Unbridled Billionaire

A Cinderella moment...with an untamable billionaire

Presley Macarthur was always a plain Jane, a fact her stepmother pointed out at every turn. But Presley’s passion is horses, and when a bad business deal leaves her at the mercy of newly wealthy stable owner Kane Harrington, Presley finds herself on the brink of a sensual transformation she never saw coming.

Kane has a use for Presley—to make him legitimate in the exclusive world of high-dollar horse breeding. But there’s nothing useful about his growing feelings for her. After losing it all before, is he willing to take the ultimate risk again, and make this woman’s passionate transformation complete?

Without warning, Kane’s long fingers found her chin.

She glanced up but the shadows over his face didn’t give her any clues to his thoughts. He simply covered her lips with his.

This simple touch sent her over the top.

He didn’t grope or force his tongue into her mouth. No, Kane wasn’t an overeager boy looking for an easy in. Instead, he rested against her mouth for a moment. Just long enough for her to anticipate the next move.

When it came, it left her gasping. He brushed his lips lightly across hers, back and forth until hers parted. Still he didn’t force himself in. Instead he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue...and everything inside Presley tightened in response. One quick flick against her parted teeth, then he was gone.

Only then did Presley realize that her entire awareness had narrowed to the man touching her. The man she should have been scolding. But no—

She clutched the lapels of his suit jacket, wrinkling the fabric. She strained to draw air into her lungs like a horse bellowing after a race.

And the man before her stood with his hands loose at his side, appearing completely unmoved.

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

Unbridled Billionaire

Dani Wade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DANI WADE astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the Southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.

To my beautiful baby sister ~ Following our dreams

runs in the family...never give up on yours!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

One

“You can take me on a stroll through the gardens...”

Kane Harrington glanced toward the large arched windows along the back hall of Harrington House, darkening from gray to black as the sun disappeared. “I don’t think there’s quite enough light for that.”

The little imp—Joan was her name, if he remembered correctly—sidled a little closer. “I don’t mind.”

I do. And so did all the eligible women and their mothers who had hoped for a few minutes of his time. After all, he was the only Harrington man who was still single. That made him the center of attention at this open house for the new estate and stables he and his brother, Mason, were holding for prominent local families. Suddenly the four hours he’d already endured started to wear on Kane.

“I’m sorry, hon,” he said, trying to infuse his normally stern expression with a sincere regret. “I just remembered I need to make a business call tonight. I’ll be right back.”

He quickly escaped down the hall to the large office they had marked off-limits during the earlier tours. Though Kane had his own desk and computer to work from in the office, he didn’t live at the estate with Mason and his fiancée, EvaMarie.

Thankful for the heavily carved door that kept out unwanted visitors, he dropped into his desk chair with a squeak of leather and a sigh. His sudden exhaustion reminded him of why he had been avoiding social events over the last few years. To his eternal consternation, his dark, brooding looks seemed to attract the attention of more women than he wanted. And as soon as word spread that he and his brother had inherited enough money to be labeled billionaires, the number of potential wives chasing him had become obscene.

He’d agreed to take one for the team if his mixing and mingling got their newly established stables noticed by pretty girls and their families. Money wasn’t the only thing they needed to keep building—although his father had ensured that they had plenty of that. No, they needed to build a reputation among the movers and shakers of racing society here in Kentucky bluegrass country. Kane would do whatever he had to in order to ensure their names were on every pair of lips at this year’s biggest events surrounding the race to the Triple Crown.

After he’d had a few minutes to himself...

What surprised him was how utterly boring he found the women here today. The newly minted billionaire was looking for a bit of a challenge, a sassy remark or, hell, anything outside the cookie-cutter norm...but he hadn’t found that yet.

And the fake helpless act...he shuddered. Kane had more protective instincts than most men, but he could see right through to the calculating performances that did nothing more than turn his stomach.

Idly, he clicked on his email icon and glanced over the notifications. The usual mix of ads, business replies and such filled the screen. Geesh—it didn’t matter how often he checked his inbox; the thing just kept filling up.

Suddenly the name Vanessa Gentry caught his eye, and his world went still for long, long seconds.

He recognized it, of course, even after several years. Kinda hard to forget the woman who would have been your mother-in-law. Immediately his mind’s eye filled with a picture of her with her daughter, both of them laughing, heads close together. They’d looked so much alike, only Vanessa’s dark hair had gone silver gray at an early age. Her daughter Emily’s had still been black as night. Just the thought saddened Kane.

Though he probably shouldn’t, he clicked on the email and read it while a photo began downloading.

Kane, I know it is presumptuous of me to send this to you. But after the way things ended... Well, I just wanted you to know that all is well and that Emily has been able to move on.

Kane braced himself, straightening his spine against the back of the chair. Sure enough, as he glanced down at the picture that appeared, it was as though someone had landed a blow square in his solar plexus.

There she was, the beauty he’d thought to one day call his own. Odd—he’d thought he would never stop loving her then. Now love wasn’t the emotion he felt. No, instead it was the familiar wave of weakness, the helplessness that had first plagued him during his mother’s illness and death from cancer. Then Emily had had her accident, which sent all his fix-it instincts into overdrive. But she’d wanted none of his help. She’d interpreted it all as pity.

Beside her in the photo was an average-looking man, nondescript except for the tux and boutonniere. There was a happy glow in his eyes. Over Emily’s shoulder Kane could see the handle of her wheelchair. So she was still at least partially paralyzed...

And a beautiful bride to someone who could apparently meet her needs better than Kane, no matter how hard he’d tried.

The anger hit quick and hard. Even though he didn’t want to, Kane conceded that Emily had a right to move on. But Kane had a right to be left out of it, instead of being reminded of all the ways he hadn’t measured up.

Surging to his feet, he ignored the slam of his chair against the wall behind him. Stalking across the expensive carpets without a thought, he continued out the door and down the hall without acknowledging the few guests he passed. He imagined his facial expression wasn’t particularly welcoming at the moment.

The way people fell back as if he were the beast at the ball only confirmed his thoughts—and exacerbated his anger.

But his body knew what it needed. The peace and quiet he’d always found in the stables. The acceptance of the horses. The earthy smell that grounded him in the present. And today, the realization of the dream he hadn’t been willing to give up—even after his ex-fiancée had fallen off her horse and been left paralyzed for life.

There was no one in the stables. They’d allowed tours earlier. After all, this would be the heart of their operations. Kane and Mason were rightfully proud of the building, the renovations they’d done here and the stock they’d started housing in the stalls. As soon as he entered, Kane’s steps slowed, his breath evened out, his heart rate returned to normal.

He paused, savoring the quiet shuffle of horses’ feet and their gentle calls to him as they sensed his presence. This time when he moved forward, his footfalls were almost silent. He was meditative as he strolled through the space. It was the realization of a dream he and his brother had for so long: premium-grade stables and the stock to one day race a championship horse.

He only wished his father had lived long enough to share it with them.

A sudden high-pitched squeak broke the silence. Then he heard a voice coming from the right-hand fork of the aisle. Kane wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. Had a sneaky couple decided to play some games in the stables while the party was going on? Normally he would just ignore it, but that wing had been declared off-limits to visitors earlier in the day.

Because that’s where their new breeding stud was being kept.

Sun was a very new addition, having only arrived yesterday, and Kane hadn’t wanted him disturbed by a rush of onlookers. The horse needed time to get used to his new digs.

Picking up speed, Kane rounded the corner and made his way toward the noise. The closer he got, the more his calm melted away, because the voice seemed to be coming from the stud’s stall. Singular and soft, it had to be a woman’s. Either she was talking to the horse or some man was getting an earful of sexy whispers.

The stall was about halfway down the aisle, but as Kane approached, something farther down caught his attention. The back door to this wing sat ajar, giving him a glimpse of the black night...and the glint of the stable lights off metal. A truck? A trailer?

Was this woman stealing his horse?

His big body automatically adopted stealth mode, his feet almost silent on the hard-packed earthen floor. He gave the stall door a wide berth, coming around it in the shadows across the aisle so he could see without being seen. As he paused, a sudden awareness of the pumping of his heart and an intense curiosity flooded over him.

He wasn’t bored now.

Over the half wall, Kane could see the massive stallion standing unusually still, almost as if mesmerized by the woman’s voice. She spoke continuously as she worked—from what Kane could tell since she faced away from him, she was indeed readying Sun for transport. But the whole time she touched him, steadying him with a firm hand that bespoke familiarity and authority.

She wasn’t dressed to steal a horse. Through the barely open door Kane caught a quick peek of the flat soles of the woman’s sandals. The straps across her feet were bejeweled; he could see them peeking out through the straw. A loose sundress of nondescript gray-blue material skimmed her lightly muscled body instead of hugging her curves.

Her back was to him, but from what he could tell, she was pretty but not flashy. She certainly hadn’t caught his attention earlier tonight. If she’d been present at the party—as the dress suggested—he couldn’t remember her. And he had a feeling he would have remembered the wealth of caramel-colored hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. He wanted to see what her face looked like, but first, he needed to know what she was up to.

Many people didn’t realize that behind his stoic exterior, Kane was an exceedingly patient man. He stood for a good ten minutes in silence, cataloging the woman’s movements and actions, guessing at her intentions. She had an incredible talent for soothing the giant horse they’d nicknamed the Beast, but the breakaway-style halter, blanket and leg wraps on the animal left no doubt that she planned to leave here with his horse.

As if the truck and trailer didn’t make that plain enough.

As she finished the last of her preparations, Kane decided it was time to make his move. Stepping out of the shadows, he moved to block the open stall door. The Beast caught sight of him first, lifting his head with a little jerk that conveyed his uneasiness at Kane’s appearance.

The little thief didn’t catch on as quickly. She placed her palm flat on the horse’s neck and spoke to him in a low voice. He whinnied, seeming to nod, though Kane wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or to warn her of his presence. Without a sound, Kane leaned against the door frame and let his sternest stable-manager voice boom out into the silence.

“What have we here?”

* * *

The voice jolted Presley’s system. She’d been so caught up in Sun that she’d forgotten the threat posed by the Harringtons. One look over her shoulder told her she’d been caught by one of the actual brothers rather than a stable hand.

Remembering the papers in her pocket, she raised her chin and turned to face him fully. “I’m Presley Macarthur. And you are?”

She already knew. After all, Kane Harrington had made the social pages a few times already, though his brother, Mason, had appeared many more times...and would probably garner a precious full-page spread after today’s announcement of his engagement to EvaMarie Hyatt.

She could recite the entire story of the stable hand brothers who had moved away from here after their jockey father had been blackballed, only to move back last year after inheriting a huge sum of money upon their father’s death. They were set to make a big splash in the horse racing world.

The giant of a man loomed in the doorway, letting the silence stretch, but she refused to give in with a rambling explanation of what she was doing here. That would only make him think he had power—which he didn’t in this situation.

Pushing away from the door frame, Kane stalked closer. “I would think, since you’re in my barn, stealing my horse, that you would know who I am.”

A sudden return of the heated anger and embarrassment Presley had felt when her stepmother had told her what she’d done with Sun had Presley’s sight dimming momentarily. “Actually, I’m not stealing anything. I’m simply collecting what’s rightfully mine.”

“I don’t think so, little girl,” Kane said, his chuckle skating over her nerves in an unfamiliar way. There was an undercurrent signaling more to his attitude than mere disdain. A whole lot more she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Kane went on, “You see, I have the paperwork that shows I bought this horse, fair and square.”

Presley felt Sun shift his big body next to her, as if sensing the gist of the conversation. She rested her palm against his withers. “Fair? Are you sure about that?” she asked.

Kane’s only response was to lift a darkly arched brow. Her stomach dropped, but she kept her expression as blank as possible. The intimidation she felt in the face of his stoic self-assurance was new to her. She’d been dealing with men—and their attitudes when they realized a woman was in charge—for many years now. Fear was foreign to her in a business setting. Yet this man evoked it with a simple look.

Not good.

She swallowed hard, but the fear got the better of her. “If those papers don’t list the seller as Presley Macarthur, then I’m afraid you’ve bought this horse illegally.”

Yikes. Presley immediately wished the words back. That wasn’t the tack she’d meant to take. All the calm preparation she’d done before coming here was flying out the window. “What I mean is, there seems to have been a misunderstanding—”

“I’d say so. Because I bought this horse from the home farm run by the late Mr. Macarthur’s widow, Marjorie.”

While I was out of town on a consult...

“I’m sure you did, Mr. Harrington.” Boy, that name was hard to force out from her constricted throat. “But it’s a matter of public record that Sun is owned by me, Mr. Macarthur’s only daughter. Not his widow.” She smiled as sweetly as she could fake. “Though we do own the business jointly, so I can see where such a misunderstanding could occur.”

The sudden brooding look he shot her made her want to stammer, but she fought for control. Reaching into the side pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a copy of her ownership papers. “If you need proof, I have it right here.”

To her consternation, he stalked forward. Though she knew he was coming for the papers, her heart sped up and her palms grew damp. Once more she knew it wasn’t all from the stress of this situation. This felt...personal. His long fingers brushed over hers as he took the pages, and a hot flush spread like wildfire through Presley’s limbs.

What the heck was happening here?

Granted, Presley wasn’t one to swoon. She was too busy taking care of business. But she could honestly say she’d never reacted to a man the way she had to Kane Harrington. It felt as if a tornado had taken up residence inside her body, swirling her emotions and reactions into a maelstrom she couldn’t control—or even make sense of. As Kane read over the papers, she had a brief reprieve to compose herself before he pinned her with his gaze once more.

“Well, it seems we are at an impasse, Miss Macarthur.”

“No.” She drew the word out as if he were a child in need of instruction. “This situation is very clear-cut. I’ll be taking Sun home, where he belongs.”

“And the check I gave to Ms. Macarthur?”

Presley struggled not to wince. “I assure you, your money will be returned to you in full.” No matter how much of a hit the business took because of it. Presley had a sneaking suspicion her stepmother had spent as much as possible before Presley could get wind of what happened.

“And what about my reputation?”

She cocked her head to the side, tightening her hand around Sun’s lead rope. “Excuse me?”

Kane stepped closer, close enough to cast a shadow over her. “I bought this particular horse for a reason, Miss Macarthur. I’m sure you are fully aware of the jump start a stud of this caliber would give to our breeding program. That’s not the kind of thing I can find just anywhere.”

“I do understand, but don’t really see where that is my problem.”

But one look from Kane Harrington told her he was about to make it her problem. “I think the people around here would disagree with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know our businesses,” he said with a smooth confidence. “We know they run on reputation almost as much as the performance of our horses.”

Oh, Presley knew all about that, having experienced the struggle to keep her stepmother out of the business of running their stables since her father’s death more than six months ago. Her stepmother didn’t know the meaning of tact or, hell, even business. All she saw were dollar signs, and she wanted more and more—no matter what she hurt in the process.

They can scent a weak link better than a hound dog and will extort it worse than a lawyer. Never let them see weakness.

Her father had repeated those words to her again and again, so why had he decided that his daughter and his wife should share the business he had worked so hard to build since before Presley was born? Her stepmother was the weakest link of all—and Presley had a feeling Kane Harrington knew that all too well.

Wielding his power without noticeable effort, Kane moved closer, then had the gall to pace around her, making her temperature rise. The urge to move away became unbearable.

Just as Kane reached her back, she slipped beneath Sun’s neck, putting the horse between them to avoid the unfamiliar arousal this man evoked deep inside. Yes, as much as she hated to give the feeling a name...

Kane’s thick, dark eyebrows rose, but he didn’t call her out on her cowardice. “The way I see it, your stepmother has done something illegal. And then there’s the embarrassment of retracting the announcement that Sun would be joining the Harrington stables.” He loomed over the horse’s high back, pinning Presley with a steely-eyed glare that should have made her mad but instead sent intriguing shivers up and down her spine.

“If my reputation is gonna take a hit over this, so is yours,” he assured her.

Anyone who thought the customer was always right had never been in just this situation with just this man. One look told Presley she was about to make many concessions—whether she wanted to or not.

Two

Kane could tell the moment Presley Macarthur realized he wasn’t letting her off the hook without consequences. She was pretty good at hiding her expression—but her gorgeous, moss-green eyes gave her away.

They told him she was going to try to get out of this somehow.

“I’m really s-s-sorry about that—”

Kane shouldn’t be happy about that stammer, shouldn’t wish it was from more than just the pressure he was bringing to bear. It marked him as a bad person, surely. But it didn’t stop the satisfaction from rushing in. The curiosity.

Whoa. This game is fun.

“So you’re sorry your stepmother made a mistake. How do you plan to make it up to me?”

Only as her eyes widened did he realize how that might sound—and not just the words. An attraction, a need sparked by this woman had given his voice a husky quality. He hadn’t had this type of reaction with a single debutante since he’d moved back to Kentucky.

Hell, years before that, even.

Why this particular woman? She wasn’t flashy like the diamond-studded princesses in the main house. Her dress was pretty enough, made of a nice-quality material, but its loose style didn’t reveal a single curve. Kane was intrigued by what might be waiting underneath for him to discover. And this close, he noticed another significant difference. Whereas every woman he’d met tonight wore makeup to a greater or lesser extent, Presley Macarthur’s face was clean and clear, without so much as tinted lip gloss to highlight the sexy curves of her naked lips.

Suddenly her gaze narrowed, and she pulled herself a little taller. “What do you mean, exactly?”

The pushback intrigued him, too. The last thing he wanted was a weak woman, one who needed taking care of—that type was his kryptonite, as Emily had proven all too well. Before him was an attractive woman who obviously knew and ran her own business. If the gossip he’d heard was correct, Presley also did consulting on equine and stable management. So she was smart, not easily intimidated. Kane was going to have to get creative to recoup this loss.