Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1

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Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1 Page 3

by Amy J. Hawthorn


  But now, in a friend’s private bedroom, being fussed over as if she were royalty, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She’d already reminded herself six times that Carol’s heart was as big as the ocean, and she meant well. If she had the slightest hint that Kate wasn’t happy, she’d immediately stop Operation Dress Up and call a halt to the auction altogether.

  While the last thing Kate wanted was stand and smile and wave at the crowd—which would end with her suffering through a date likely fraught with groping and sleazy advances—she wanted the animal shelter to get its donation more. With that in mind, Kate plastered on her brightest smile when Carol held up a lovely ivory colored sheath.

  “What do you think of this one? I think it will flatter that gorgeous tan of yours and you can wear your own shoes. Try it on.”

  Kate accepted the offered gown and stepped into it. In moments, Carol zipped her into the satin and sparkles.

  “Look at that. It’s perfect. I mean, you’re a little bigger up top than me, so you actually have a little cleavage. Your hips are a little narrower, but the gathers at the side take care of that. What do you think? I think it’s stunning. Here, let’s freshen up your makeup, and you’ll knock their socks off. I dare say, we may raise more money with you taking Susie’s place. She’s pretty, but she’s too young and a bit of an airhead, if you ask me. With your combination of beauty and class, you’ll have these men throwing money at you. You look like a supermodel meets first lady. Why, I dare say Jacqueline Kennedy might have been envious.”

  The decision as to whether or not she would actually wear the dress had been taken out of her hands. As if she’d slipped back in time—when she’d sat or stood like a doll and done what she was told—she allowed Carol to take over. In no time, she’d been polished and fluffed to Carol’s idea of perfection.

  They headed down to the ballroom arm in arm. Carol beamed as she took Kate around the room, making introductions along the way. Kate smiled her best smile and played the social game, feeling more like an actor filling a role she’d outgrown than the woman she’d worked to become in the past year.

  Then she heard it. “Dove?”

  How could one word spoken by one particular voice instantly fill her with a sense of dread so concentrated that she shook with it? As always, a little too loud and a little too cheerful, the sound rang false. How had she lived so many years with him and not noticed how …empty his voice had been?

  “I didn’t know you’d be here. You look stunning as always. Farm life must be treating you well.” Preston likely meant his last few words as an insult, his tone revealing clearly that farm life wasn’t fit living for anyone other than the poor by his estimation.

  He was the last person she’d expected or hoped to see. Though he fit right in with the crowd in his designer slacks, pale blue button up and classic blueblood looks, to her he stood out like a beacon. Just the sight of him made alarms go off in her mind.

  The group of men he stood with were ones she hadn’t yet been introduced to. She wished she could go back to her oblivious little bubble and forget he was there altogether.

  She forced herself to smile brighter, a mask to hide her distress from the room. “It is. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. If you’ll excuse me?” The chatter in the room around them dimmed to near silence as everyone scented potential drama in the air.

  Stephen appeared and grasped her hand gently. “Kate, if you’ll come with me? We have a few things to finalize before the auction, if you’ll excuse us.”

  “Of course.” She allowed her old friend to pull her into the kitchen once more. The moment the door closed behind them, he nudged her into a barstool at the long sparkling counter.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why he’s here. I—” Her words tumbled out at a rapid, jumbled pace.

  “Stop right now. You do not apologize for anything to do with that man. I’ll find out how he got in and make sure it never happens again. I suspect he rode in on the coattails of Phillip Bailey. They’ve been seen together a lot lately. Why he’d do it, I don’t have a clue. You’d think that with Bailey up for reelection, he’d want to keep better company. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I’ll make him leave.”

  “No. Don’t make a fuss. I just need a few minutes to myself. He caught me off guard. After a few minutes of quiet, I’ll be good as new.”

  “You’re sure?” His kind eyes held a wealth of doubt.

  “Absolutely. Which stable is the new girl in?” Changing the topic and her surroundings would no doubt do a world of good for her swirling and panicked thoughts.

  “She’s in the smaller barn, in the last stall. We’ve got her next to Charley.”

  “That makes sense. Charley’s almost as big of a softie as you. Tell Carol I’m fine, and that I promise not to get her dress dirty.”

  To bypass the party crowd spilling off the back patio, she exited through the mudroom that led off the house’s side. She found a pair of Carol’s old boots near the door and swapped them out for her heels. They were a little big, but it would be far safer than walking through the fields and stables in heels or barefoot. Both options spelled disaster and, the way things were going, she didn’t need to tempt fate.

  The moment she stepped foot onto green grass, she breathed easier. The more distance between her and the house, the lighter she felt. She took a deep breath and focused on the gently rolling meadows lined with white fencing. The sun sat low and heavy in the evening sky, as if the long day had sapped its energy and it couldn’t hold up its head any longer.

  She walked to the nearest stable and into open double doors. The soft rustle of animals in their stalls greeted her. Just as Stephen promised, she fell in love with the horse on the spot.

  She huddled in the back corner of her stall, but she turned her head as Kate approached.

  “Hey there, gorgeous. Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” She was. The chocolate brown little filly walked up, eager for affection, and eased her head over the gate. Kate offered her hand for the little girl to sniff.

  Fathomless brown eyes looked back at her. With a little nod of her head, she seemed to give Kate permission to touch. Who could resist such a sweet offer? She reached out and ran a hand over the soft hair.

  “There’s my dove. I knew she’d be out here with the animals. Boots with evening wear? I don’t know why I’m surprised. ” With her heart pounding, Kate snatched her hand back in shock. She recognized his snide tone as well as she knew her own face.

  Startled, the sweet little filly backed away, returning to her corner. Kate couldn’t say she blamed the animal, as she wished she could do the same thing.

  Without a single hope that he’d actually listen, she turned to face Preston and found him posed in the open door with Senator Phillip Bailey. A jagged fingernail of dread scraped from her nape all the way down her spine. She’d never stood up to him before, but she could now.

  She could have fought him before, too, but hated confrontations. Standing up to him was more for herself than it was to tell Preston off. When faced with old habits, she needed the reminder that she answered to no one. That was why she’d made the leap and filed for divorce. She hadn’t once regretted her decision. She wouldn’t start now. One of the horses behind her shook its head and the ripple of ears and mane helped ground her. She lived in her own world now, not Preston’s.

  “I couldn’t wear heels in the grass, now could I? We don’t have anything to say to each other, Preston. Please go away. Contact my attorney if you think differently.” Her instincts told her to make a hasty retreat, to go back to the house, but the two men blocked the doorway.

  Intentional or not, they’d trapped her.

  Preston sneered as he came nearer, practically tiptoeing across the ground, minding each step. Though it’d been a couple years since they’d last met, she recognized Senator Bailey as he captured her with his piercing gaze. Somehow he looked both the same and different. He’d covered his
gray hair with a milk chocolate brown shade. And…he’d had a facelift or some other type of surgery? She’d bet her farm that he had. Plastic, almost stiff features replaced his former classically handsome face. She imagined his skin would feel like rubber.

  Creepy.

  Preston closed in. Her confidence faltered with the shrinking distance. The scent of his signature cologne reached her, the all-too-familiar smell carrying bad memories.

  Trent had left Molly for a few minutes to check on the Mitchell’s stallion, housed in a separate stable. It had been over a year since he’d seen the cocky beast. He knew Caesar couldn’t be in better hands than the Mitchell’s, but he couldn’t resist a quick visit. He’d been there the day the big chestnut entered the world then delivered him to their farm three years ago.

  The conceited horse preened and greeted him as if they were old friends and, in a way, he guessed they were. He’d stayed longer than he’d planned, which meant Stephen and Carol especially would expect him to stop by and at least grab a plate of food before he left. He’d rather dodge the party altogether, but when Carol gave a man the look that said “eat, or else,” a man ate.

  At least a smart one did.

  He’d been up since four a.m. and gone nonstop since. He wanted nothing more than a shower and his bed, but neither would do him any good until he checked on Molly one last time. When he approached the barn’s corner and heard the low sound of unfamiliar voices, he stopped. These weren’t his stables, but the hushed tones were all wrong nonetheless.

  “Trust me, she’ll be out here with the animals. She never could get of enough of them. Telling her I had an allergy was the only way I kept her from filling the house with mutts and alley cats. If you pursue her, you may want to develop the same allergy.”

  “I don’t have time for a wild goose chase. What makes you think she’ll cooperate if you haven’t spoken to each other in months?”

  “She’s a doormat and a do-gooder down to her very core. She won’t be happy about seeing me, but even if the sight of me makes her sick, she won’t want to be rude to you. Politeness is in her DNA.”

  “I need her… cooperation. I looked over your photos. I need her. No one else will do.” There was an odd, flat tone to the man’s words that made Trent’s senses go on alert.

  “You’ll have it. Remember, she’s a doormat and charity is the way to her heart.” Their voices dimmed and Trent guessed they’d probably entered the stable.

  Assholes, the both of them. But who did they expect to find in the stable? As far as he knew, there weren’t any female stable hands in the Mitchell’s employ. No matter, he’d had enough. They could take their shit somewhere else.

  He’d get rid of the trouble, say goodbye to Molly, then the Mitchells, grab a bite to eat and head home to end his long day. That’s it.

  He rounded the corner and stopped in the barn’s open doors.

  Several things hit him at once.

  A stunning brunette with hair halfway to her ass stood near Molly’s stall in a dress that displayed a body capable of making grown men cry. The boots, though a smart choice for the barn, were the last thing he’d ever expect to see on such a beautiful woman. Her classical good looks spelled trophy wife.

  The slightly taller man in a blue button-up and city shoes had moved into her personal space and, though he seemed to know her well, the look on her face made it clear she was anything but happy to see him.

  The second, slightly older man stood back a bit and watched with interest. He’d honed in on the brunette, fixated to a point that left Trent doubting a bomb blast could break his focus. Like the first man, he wore expensive shoes that shouted boardroom or…shit—politician.

  Maybe he couldn’t toss the two pricks out with the trash, but he could put an end to their harassment.

  “Preston, I divorced you, remember? Please leave me alone.” Her voice reminded him of honeyed bourbon. The warm, smooth tones whispered through him, making every cell take notice and reach for more.

  “Kate, this will only take a minute of your time. We have a proposition for you…” The first man stepped even closer before he reached out to grasp her arm. She shrank back, pressed against the stall door. When Trent saw the golden tan of her arm turn white beneath the man’s brutal grip, he saw red.

  She winced and tried to yank her arm free, but the man held fast. “I just need you to listen to me. Damn you, always so stubborn,” the man said through gritted teeth, as if ready to lose his temper.

  Trent had heard and seen enough.

  “Kate? There you are. I’m sorry I was late.” He slid in beside her and asshole number one immediately released her arm and stepped back. Figured. Trent couldn’t think of much worse than a coward who’d lay a hand on a woman, but didn’t have the balls to stand up to another man.

  “Can I help you? I promised to introduce my…Kate… to pretty little Molly, here.” Trent’s smile filled with pure menace and let the men wonder about his relationship with the brunette. He turned his back to the men, dismissing them.

  He glanced at her face to verify that she understood and would cooperate. Light brown eyes met his, full of equal parts shock, wariness and relief. He could work with that. Once the tension in her heart-shaped face eased, her beauty jabbed him in the gut. Something deep and primal took root, an unbreakable leash holding him fast to his course.

  Heaven help the man who tried to sway him.

  “Where’d you find the boots? I didn’t even think about your shoes when I made my offer.” He clicked at Molly, and she cautiously came to stand in the middle of the stall. Another strike against the two idiots. They’d made one of his horses nervous. Molly might belong to the Mitchells, but she’d always be one of his animals.

  “They’re Carol’s barn boots. I didn’t think she’d mind.” Her voice knocked him in his chest and slid down low beneath his belt.

  “Smart girl. A man’s gotta love a lady who knows her way around a farm.” He clicked again and murmured to his girl. He loosely caged his arms around the two legged female and did his best to focus on the four legged one. “Come see Kate. You’ll like her. Ignore those two suits. They’re leaving.” Molly came forward and allowed Kate to rub a gentle caress over her nose.

  He turned his head back to the men and didn’t bother to hide the fury from his expression. He hoped they understood they weren’t welcome and, if not for the females, he wouldn’t let them off with a verbal warning. “Gentlemen, we’ll see you later, correct?”

  “Kate, we really need to speak with you about a business matter.” The instant her ex-husband spoke, he felt tension roll off her.

  “Not now and not today you don’t. She’s mine for the evening. We have a date with Molly.” He eased in as close as he could get without touching her expensive dress. He reached a hand out to Molly and breathed in the sweet, seductive scent of the woman before him.

  Silence filled the barn for what felt like an eternity and then he heard the rustle of footsteps leaving. “They’re gone now. Do you want me to back off or wait a moment in case they come back?”

  The heavy silence was broken only by the sound of Kate’s heavy breaths and the swish of Molly’s tail. “Wait a moment, please.” Not much more than a silken whisper, her words brushed over him. She’d been so quiet that he’d almost missed the waver of anxiety. They’d really rattled her.

  He clenched his fists on top of the stall door. He breathed in her scent and pushed his anger down. “My pleasure.” And it was. So what if the polished princess before him was the polar opposite of what he wanted in a woman? She was no hardship to look at and that voice of hers went straight to his cock. He needed to keep her talking as he fought the urge to look down her cleavage.

  “How do you know Steve and Carol?” The deep voice brushed by her ear in a warm caress.

  Okay, she could do this. She could make small talk with the best of them, so one farm hand shouldn’t be a problem. “I met Stephen years ago at a charity function. We’ve be
en friends since then. You?”

  “They’re old family friends. I’ve known them for ages.”

  She concentrated on the big round eyes looking up at her with trust and resisted the need to turn and face the man behind her. She’d been too rattled by Preston’s appearance for anything other than a fleeting impression to register.

  One moment she’d been trapped alone and the next a tall, dark knight in faded jeans came through the doors. She hadn’t known whether to feel relief or fear, but it had taken about two seconds to realize that he was no friend of Preston or the Senator.

  When he’d walked over and mentioned their date, she wanted to swoon with relief. But swooning? That wasn’t her.

  “I think they’re gone for good.” His warmth left her and she turned to face him. “Wait, watch the dress.” His long arm reached around to prevent her from leaning back against the stall door and his rough palm met the bared skin of her back. Shivers of pleasure cascaded through her.

  “Oh no. I forgot I’m wearing Carol’s dress. I’ve gotten used to my old tees and jeans.”

  Dark blond hair that fell in waves almost reached his shoulders. Jeans so faded and worn they looked thin in places covered long, muscled legs that ended in old, battered boots. A faded black T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders and storm-gray eyes looked down at her.

  “What made you leave the party in a dress like that and come out to the stables?” His other hand dropped and brushed over her hair, stopping just below the first, at the small of her back. With light pressure he pushed her toward him until not much more than a breath of space separated them. The air they shared simmered, ripe with sultry intensity. His stony gray gaze held her immobile.

  He stepped back, pulling her with him and away from the stall without breaking their stare. She forgot how to breathe. Luckily for her, there was no need for air in the heavy daze they’d created.

 

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