Worth Winning

by Tricia Johnson

  “Yes, same style of riding.” She shivered at his breath against her skin and pointed to one of the bays doing a flying change of lead in the center of the ring. “That one is closer to what level Todd does at his events.”

  “And you?”

  She frowned. Did he really have no concept of what she did? Maybe that was the problem. If he knew what Prima could do, that she was just shy of what he would consider Olympic level, even though she still had a ways to go to perfect it… Maybe he’d be more sympathetic to what she needed instead of trying to get a foal out of the deal.

  But modesty kept her in check. “Prima is doing a bit more,” she offered lamely.

  “Could you have come here, if she were sound?”

  “I guess.” But being in the spotlight like this wasn’t her dream. She wanted to make her horse dance for the sheer joy of it. She wanted to teach other people how to make their horses dance, too. Because it was the only thing she was good enough to do in her life. If someone wanted to watch, fine. She didn’t need much more to be happy.

  Except Drew.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered, unable to stand there any longer, with him pressed against her back. She glanced at her watch—almost time to go see the real reason why they were here.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure you’re bored, and it’s almost three. Let’s go see Festivo.”

  ****

  Drew and Sarah made their way to the pavilion that housed Festivo’s breed demonstration. They found the area at the back of the building, another small sand arena surrounded by metal temporary fencing. There was already a crowd gathered, and Festivo was being walked outside of the area. Sarah found a spot against the fence, and Drew was able to stand beside her this time, which was a relief. Except he was again too close, his forearm against hers. Not that it was his fault. Ringside was crowded. Still, his nearness unsettled her.

  And then Festivo entered the ring at a ground-covering trot, and Sarah sucked in a breath. She didn’t want to fall in love with this horse, any more than she had fallen for the man beside her. But how could she not, when Festivo commanded the ring as if he owned the place. His rider took him through his paces, his lengthened stride at the trot breathtaking, the collected trot elegant. His canter was magical, and Sarah felt that pang again. Jealousy at being on the ground.

  “He’s a big horse. Isn’t he as big as Prima?” Drew whispered.

  “He’s an inch bigger,” she whispered back. “Is that your friend riding him?”

  “Yes.”

  “She does a lovely job with him.”

  The announcer ran though his bloodlines—impeccable. His international record outstanding—a bronze at the European PRE championships, Best Movement winner in three Spanish A championships. Exceptional. Every inch of him stunning.

  Sarah sighed.

  Drew rubbed her back and said, “I told you he was amazing.”

  “You were right, as usual.”

  “Does that mean you’ll breed Prima to him?”

  “Drew—”

  “Drew!” A voice called.

  They looked up. The announcer had finished speaking, the crowd was dispersing, and Festivo’s cheerful rider grinned down at them from her lofty and regal perch.

  “Doreen, this is Sarah Ames. Sarah, Doreen Kula, Festivo’s mistress.”

  Doreen laughed. “I think he’s my master more than I’m his mistress. Thanks for coming, Drew, and bringing your girlfriend. Did you enjoy his performance?”

  Girlfriend? Ugh, Doreen thought she was Gina. “Yes, he’s lovely. You’re so lucky.”

  “And so will you be, when your foal arrives. Drew has already started the process. I wanted to let you know we received your check. Congrats!”

  “Thanks, Doreen.” Drew had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “We have to get going.”

  “It was nice meeting you both.” Doreen and Festivo left, and Sarah turned from the ring.

  Paperwork? Check? Silent partner, indeed. “So much for not playing the dominant card,” she muttered. She expected to be hurt, or angry, but instead felt like the balloon that was her life finally deflated. “I thought this weekend was to give me a chance to think about this, and for us to discuss it rationally.”

  “I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. They only breed so many mares, you know. We will discuss this later tonight, or tomorrow. I’m not trying to pressure you.”

  And suddenly she was seventeen again, just months from her eighteenth birthday. Her parents had passed, and Drew had moved in to help Todd shuffle through the mountains of paperwork, the struggle of running the business side of a successful farm when he’d only done the training side. At first, it had been her only glimmer of light in darkness—Drew being so close. Until she realized he was there to lay down the law. And she went from having no parents to having the equivalent of two very young, stern dads, and they weren’t a couple.

  Only then, she’d been angry and foolhardy. She had taken chances she shouldn’t have, made all the wrong decisions. Looking back, she understood why Todd and Drew had been firm. She was a train wreck waiting to happen. And if Drew hadn’t stepped in to help his best friend, she would have wrecked. Big time.

  But now…she was on track, damn him. She had a dream that came from that dark time, and it had been a brighter light than Drew ever was. Dressage. Horses that dance, spin, and trot in place with what seemed like the blink of an eye for effort. It was hard work, and it had kept her sane and safe. Now she was finally at the end of the tunnel, ready to reap the rewards, only to find he had sold her dream.

  They walked back toward the car, Drew silent and not touching her for a change. Thank goodness, because she didn’t think she could take any of it. She had to come up with a plan. She glanced at him—he was deep in thought, his brow furrowed and shoulders tense, and damn her for feeling a little sorry for him. Why? Why did she feel sorry when he held the keys to everything? Her dreams, her horse, her heart. The car, damn that, too, since she was stuck here with him, like it or not.

  Drew opened the door for her, and she sank down into the leather seat. He grinned at her as he went to his side, leaping a puddle on his way around. Somehow, she had to get him to see her side. He wasn’t cruel or mean. She loved him for a reason. But she understood too well that sometimes fate had a way of making bad things happen, things that good people had no control over. She sighed and slid into the car when he opened the door.

  She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. As heavy as her heart felt, she’d remain optimistic. If one had to have a foal, one from half of Festivo’s gene pool was a blessing. She still had horses in her life that needed training, and Prima would be sound soon. She’d start her rehabilitation from the injury, and hopefully…

  Drew started driving, and she glanced at him, then looked away with no clue as to how to show him that her dream was worth winning, too. Somehow, she’d figure it out.

  ****

  After seeing Festivo, they’d found a restaurant to eat at. Sarah was able to remain civil and Drew didn’t bring up anything horse-related, as if he knew he skated on really thin ice. It was hard to remain angry, though, when being alone with Drew in a restaurant was a big part of one of her dreams.

  They headed back to the hotel to check in and dump their shopping bags. Sarah tried to quell her nervousness. She’d spent many a night with him in the same room. In the same house. She’d seen him in underwear on many occasions. He said he’d tried for separate rooms, but the hotel was full with visitors from the Symposium. She could do this. She could be brave, and she wasn’t exactly happy with him, so her hormones were much quieter.

  They found their room and went in. Two double beds were draped in cranberry-and-gold comforters. There was a small sitting area, a nice TV, and the usual for a bathroom.

  Sarah started removing a few things from her bag and came across the box that held the earrings Drew had given her for her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to wear them tonigh
t, if they went out to dinner. A memory nagged at her, probably dredged up from Drew tossing his dominant card into the fray earlier. One that nagged and then bit at her subconscious until she couldn’t stand it and finally asked, “That summer you lived at the house…”

  “Yeah?”

  How to continue… She didn’t want to remind him of that night she’d had way too much to drink, had been underage. It had been one-thirty in the morning, and he’d been fast asleep. She also didn’t want to remember that she’d let Rob Stone grope her in a back bedroom. He’d wanted to go all the way, but she hadn’t been that inebriated. Her mind always went back to Drew—always Drew—and she’d shoved Rob away instead. “You came and picked me up, once. When I called for a ride.”

  Memories of that night were foggy, and she had been too angry and ashamed to ask. But a part of her wondered if , and her heart hammered.

  He looked wary. “Yeah?”

  “I think I tried to kiss you.”

  “Yes, you did.” Her cheeks grew hot, and he sighed. “Water under the bridge, Sarah.”

  “Why didn’t you…” She didn’t want to ask what she wanted to ask. She would have gladly put out for him. Even if she didn’t remember events of the evening, she remembered how she felt.

  His attention turned back to his bag as took out a few items, bathroom stuff. “Isn’t it obvious why? You were eighteen, drunk, and mad at the world. Give me some credit.”

  “If I hadn’t been drunk?” Had she really said that aloud?

  Her heart hammered as he looked up, surprised. His mouth opened, closed, and finally he sighed. “It wasn’t the right time.”

  She wanted to ask about now. Was now the right time? Would she finally get her shot at one dream? But he looked at his watch, and then back at her. “We should head back.”

  ****

  They found their seats for the Gala. The arena was crowded, every seat filled with excited horse people of all ages, young and old, all disciplines of riding. Sarah took the plastic cup of wine Drew offered as she sat. “What, none for you?”

  “I have to drive.” He grinned. “I have a bottle of the good stuff at the hotel. We can celebrate.”

  Celebrate? He was so sure she wanted to breed Prima after seeing Festivo in person. She wanted to snort but instead sipped at her wine. It was bitter, but she needed the liquid courage to somehow get Drew to see this from her point of view. Of course, he’d know what the good stuff was. Sarah only indulged in the boxed variety from the fridge now and then. She wasn’t much of a drinker.

  The Gala started, and they watched several acts. Every time she peeked at Drew, it was like watching a child’s reaction to the circus. “I didn’t know horses could be so amusing,” he said over the applause after one comedy act involving a cowboy and a horse that played dead.

  “Horses are all sorts of fun.”

  He took her hand in his as the lights darkened again, and her breath quickened. She wanted to ask if he was afraid of the dark now, too, but the announcer introduced a rider and horse that made her sit upright and perch to the edge of her seat. Damn it, the evening couldn’t get any worse.

  “You know these two?” Drew asked in her ear.

  She sank back into her seat, dread weighing down her stomach. Great. He’d see her nemesis and realize what she did in the saddle, but she doubted she’d see it as she saw it. It’d be just another interesting bag of tricks one did on a horse. “Yes. She’s my competition.”

  Amanda Lacegrove entered the ring on her gray gelding, decked out in formal attire, the white breeches a stark contrast against the black of her coat. Every blonde hair in place under her top hat. Amanda was actually very nice, gracious, and richer than Midas. Sarah sat back and sighed in defeat. She could no longer beat her, so she might as well join her.

  Sarah forced herself to relax and enjoy the show. Amanda was talented, the horse gifted. And this was as close to her dream as she could get right now.

  The horse danced into a perfect piaffe, every step in time to the music, and her heart ached in a new way. This was what she had been missing since Prima’s injury. The beauty of the movements, the feel of the horse under her as it executed her commands flawlessly, seemingly without direction, though there was a whole lot of direction going on. This was a variation of the kur Amanda had competed with this summer, and as usual, it was divine to watch.

  Drew leaned over again and whispered, “The music we listened to this morning—that was for something like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can do this? Prima can do this?” Drew turned to stare at her, and it was as if he’d finally opened his eyes and saw her differently. Saw the real her, the real Sarah. Too bad it was, once again, the wrong time.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re amazing,” he said softly and leaned in closer. His lips brushed hers, a gentle, brief touch that lasted a heartbeat. Before she could register what had happened, he pulled away, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment. Then he sat back in his chair and watched the rest of Amanda’s performance.

  Any lingering jealousy she’d felt for Amanda and her horse vanished as Sarah fought the urge to put her fingers to her lips. He’d kissed her. Granted, a brief thing, and actually, he’d kissed her before, now that she thought about it. Under the mistletoe, a quick hello after not seeing him for eons. But this felt…different. Like maybe there was hope behind the look he’d given her.

  The rest of the performances flew by, but they all paled in comparison to the fact that Drew had kissed her. Intermission came and went, and Drew shoved another cup of wine in her hands and she drank, wanting to be just a little numb. Or maybe just a little brave. Finally, the house lights came up and it was over. He stood and pulled her up by the hand, and she followed, not really sure what to say.

  “I enjoyed that,” Drew murmured in her ear as they waited for the crowd to file along. He was at her side, his hand around her waist, his thumb in her belt loop. “The trick horses were cool, and I loved the Canadian drill team. Your friend’s ride to music was a joy to watch. Maybe I should take up riding.”

  “You’d ride? After seeing those performances.” If she’d known that was all it would take, she would have dragged him here ages ago. But still, it seemed odd, Drew wanting to ride. He’d known them for ten years and never wanted to put his foot in the stirrup. God knew Todd had tried.

  “Why not? I’m going to have free time. I might as well learn.”

  “Are you sure you’re not crazy?”

  Drew laughed and kissed the back of her neck. “Baby, you haven’t seen crazy yet.”

  The skin at her nape burned where his lips left their mark. Sarah didn’t know if she should be thrilled or terrified. Thrilled—this was the second time his lips had touched a part of her this evening. Terrified—because God help her, if he pushed any harder in the romance department, she’d give in.

  She wasn’t stupid. That last kiss was definite seduction, and she warred with the slow burning desire pooling in her stomach, igniting her skin into a tingle when he pressed against her in the moving crowd. How many years had she waited for this? The Drew she knew was hands-off. He’d said so in the hotel. The Drew she knew watched impassively from the sidelines with a skinny model on his arm.

  Maybe this crazy Drew would be the key to her ultimate dream? Because she deserved one dream, didn’t she? If she couldn’t have horses…

  No, this was bad. Way bad. What would this, a night of passion, do to their relationship? They’d go back to silent partners come Monday. She’d be heartbroken. He’d move on to conquer the business world in the private sector, oblivious of how she felt. She’d still have a lame horse. He may think her amazing, but it didn’t settle the growing unease in her stomach. He was from a different world, plain and simple. He needed something from her world, plain and simple. Like leather oil and dirty tack-cleaning water, the two didn’t mix.

  But maybe if she let him kiss her, hold her, it would quell the need. Maybe an even
ing in Drew’s arms would release her enough to move on with another man. She’d tried—not too hard. But she’d tried as much as she was able.

  “You ready to go back?”

  “Sure.” No, she was ready to bolt. But she didn’t know which way—into Drew’s arms…or away.

  ****

  “What do you want to do now,” Drew asked when they entered the hotel room a half hour after they’d left the fairgrounds.

  Sarah knew what she wanted to do and what he probably wanted to do but figured they should avoid that at all costs. The night air had smartened her up a bit. Drew needed to be kept at arm’s length. If she could just get into bed, alone, without him kissing her again, she’d be home free.

  “A movie? More wine?”

  “Sure.” The movie would keep him occupied. She didn’t know if the wine was a good idea, but she’d lost any buzz from the two glasses she’d had over an hour ago, so one glass would be safe. “I’ll change into something more comfortable.”

  She grabbed clothes and went into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, removed her mascara and shrugged into a favorite, oversized T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. Perfect for watching a movie and not the least bit seductive.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, and Drew sucked in a breath.

  “That’s my shirt,” he whispered. “I wondered where it went.”

  She looked down at her shirt and the blood rushed from her face for the second time in twenty-four hours, pooling again in her churning stomach. But this time desire joined in, heating her skin, making her even more aware of him, if that was possible. “Is it? I didn’t realize.”

  She knew all too well it was his. She’d grabbed it from his bag the last time he visited. She’d slept with it until it no longer smelled like him, and then she had finally allowed it to be washed, only to wear it to bed every night.

  “You know it’s mine.” He closed the distance, seeming to float toward her. His hands found her hips, and he tugged her close so his chest almost brushed hers, his breath hot on her cheek. “I want it back.”

  “It’s mine now. Buy yourself a whole store full with your megabucks.” Possession was nine-tenths of the law. It was now hers, and damn him for pressing his hand against the small of her back, his chest pressing against hers. He’d taken off his sweater and heat blazed through his T-shirt. She swallowed, unable to take her eyes off his lower lip. “You can’t have it back.”