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.

He shook his head, ignoring her question while he worked out the puzzle in his head, well aware his silence would be intimidating in and of itself. What was happening to him? First his earlier anger. Now he was contemplating...what?

Blackmail?

Sure, that would get him a long way toward acting on this attraction, toward finding out what was beneath Presley’s loose dress. Not. The sudden idea that popped full-blown into his head was very naughty. As if reading his thoughts, Presley leveled a suspicious gaze squarely in his direction. Kane relied on his instincts, but he wasn’t usually quick to act. He thought things through, weighed the consequences, made plans. Impulsiveness was more Mason’s style.

Not tonight.

This was too delicious an opportunity. “I’ll need you to fix this for me—”

“I would think good and hard before you try to force me into anything inappropriate,” she interrupted.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that.” Kane let his deceptively soothing tone confuse her while he, too, slipped beneath the horse’s neck to invade her safe spot. She stiffened even more.

Apparently she didn’t like that at all...

Or did she? This close, he couldn’t miss the uptick in her pulse at the base of her delicate throat or the way her tongue peeked out and slid slowly over her parted pink lips. He also caught the dip of her gaze to his fitted dress pants and button-down shirt before quickly returning to his face with a flash of guilt darkening her eyes.

Surely it wasn’t terrible to use that interest to his every advantage? Selfish, maybe. He wouldn’t let that sway him. “But I do think we will be getting to know each other very, very well.”

“What?” The squeak in her voice and the hot blush that rushed into her cheeks told Kane he’d struck a nerve.

“Macarthur.” He stepped closer, herding her toward the wall. “I recognize your name, Presley. Your stables, your family.” He had a feeling his grin was not putting her at ease. “So does everyone else in the state, and beyond.”

“So?”

Ah, he loved that breathless tone. “So, if we were together, it would put your seal of approval on Harrington stables.”

“Together?”

Her voice was high and nervous. He propped one of his hands on the slatted wall above her shoulder. Had he reduced her to a one-word wonder? The thought made him grin even more. His proximity threw her off, and she seemed to squirm under his direct attention. And not in fear, which made the knowledge a delicious treat.

“Presumably together,” he qualified. “As in, give the impression that we have a thing going.” At her frown, he pushed farther. “Let everyone think we’re lovers.”

Suddenly, the beauty before him shut down. “Um, no.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m pretty sure I can think of another way to endorse your stables.”

But that wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. “Without sounding like you’re being forced to?”

“Better than I could pretend to be your...ugh...”

“Lover?” Kane was getting the feeling that personal topics made Miss Macarthur very uncomfortable.

“Absolutely not.”

Kane stepped back, palms out in a hands-off gesture. “Okay. We can simply tell them the real story instead. How your stepmother tried to swindle me out of an incredible amount of money—”

“She did not.” Presley planted her fists on her hips, with the unintended effect of pulling her dress tighter over her body, giving him a glimpse of firm curves that set off interesting sparks in his brain.

Presley was oblivious. “She simply...well...”

“What?” Kane challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Made a mistake with a million-dollar horse that didn’t belong to her?”

The expressions of indecision and ultimate acceptance that played out on Presley’s face in that moment told Kane a hell of a lot about the woman before him. He knew plenty of men and women alike who would have thrown their hands up and declared the situation not of their making, so they weren’t taking any responsibility. Not Presley. She could have thrown her stepmother to the fishes, but instead she tilted her chin and asked, “Exactly what expectations are we talking about here?”

Well, since he’d just thought this up on the fly, he wasn’t sure. “We can discuss that.”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” She moved to mimic his stance, crossing her arms beneath a surprisingly abundant chest.

He was beginning to see that this was a woman of contradictions. Soft woman. Smart woman. Hard worker. Astute business manager. Timid on an interpersonal level. Which of these was the truest part of Presley Macarthur? The puzzle had his full attention, and it was the first time he’d been drawn away from his goals since—he didn’t want to think about that.

“I already planned to spend a substantial amount of time making the social rounds over the next racing season,” Kane said, softening his tone. He could afford to ease up when his instincts told him he was about to get what he wanted. “You could accompany me—”

“As in a date?”

He quickly suppressed a smirk. It wouldn’t help to appear pompous. “Quite a few dates, actually. You can introduce me around, engage me in conversations that help showcase my business—”

“All while making you look like a stud yourself.”

“If you underestimate the value of personal connections, you haven’t been in this business long enough.”

Despite being much younger than him—he’d guess almost ten years—he could see she understood. She knew how this industry operated. Potential customers wanted to work with people they knew, people who had already been vetted and accepted.

“We will attend together, and if I’m satisfied at the end of the season, all will be forgiven.”

“No,” she said, to his surprise, as she caught him in that narrow gaze once more. “Seems to me you’d be getting a lot of value for very little effort on your part.”

“Is there something else you’d like me to...offer?”

“Yes. A ten percent discount on your refund.”

Kane waited, almost amused at the vibration of energy holding her taut. What would that much emotion feel like? Taste like?

“Attending a bunch of events is going to cost me a good bit—of time and money. I think it’s only fair to be compensated since you are the one getting the positive publicity.”

Kane nodded slowly as he thought. He could afford to be generous at this point. “I think a consultation fee would be even more than that. Let’s make it forty percent.”

Those green eyes widened, which made Kane want to chuckle. Obviously she hadn’t expected him to be so generous, but the facts were: he had more money than he knew what to do with and he wanted to spend more time with this woman. No matter what it cost him.

“But you will pretend to be my lover.”

This time her protest was clear in her expression. He cut her off before she could speak. “No one is going to care about your endorsement if they know you’ve been paid to give one. And lovers touch. So this is part of the deal. Take it or leave it.”

“Then one other condition,” she said, holding her finger up in warning—as if that would ever hold him back. “You keep your hands to yourself.”

“I’ll keep my hands to myself, except when necessary.”

“You mean when you think it’s necessary?” Her disgusted tone told him just how she felt about his caveat.

She was a smart one. Considering the volatile extremes of this encounter, Kane wondered just how long that condition would last.

Or how long he’d be able to talk himself into obeying it. “But Presley, you are welcome to touch me any time you see fit.”

* * *

“Since I’m being so generous,” Kane said before Presley had a chance in hell of processing everything that had happened in the last half hour, “I propose we go into the house and get started.”

“What?” Yeah, processing was not her strong suit at the moment. Which she didn’t like. Being in control meant a lot to her.

“If you want to take Sun home tonight, there’s no time like the present.”

Why did his arrogant expression make her want to both smack him and rub the pad of her thumb along the arch of his raised eyebrow?

“Once we’ve made an appearance, I’ll even make sure he gets properly loaded myself.”

He gave her clothes a once-over. She’d come dressed to fit in with the party crowd, even though she had no intention of setting foot in the house. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Kane thought he’d gained a sidekick who would give him an entrée into the tightest circles of racing society.

What would happen when he found out Presley was far from a social butterfly?

Large groups of people made her break out in hives. She’d only attended parties when her father insisted and usually spent the time doing her best wallflower impression. The men who constantly called her for advice and dropped by the stables to ask about their mares’ latest ailments seemed to grow blinders the minute she slipped into a dress.

Not that she could blame them. Formal clothes looked bad on her and made her uncomfortable. Still, she was well enough known now that plenty of people would drop by her corner to talk business. But the endless conversations about horses dried up when prettier women entered the picture, making parties a minefield Presley had no ability or desire to navigate.

Maybe Kane wouldn’t realize that until she had Sun safely home...

“Shall we?”

Kane graciously waved a hand to indicate she should precede him out of the stall. But Presley had now had an up-close encounter with the power and stubbornness behind the manners. They might have an agreement, but one look into his dark eyes told her he’d release the information about her stepmother and ruin her if she didn’t cooperate.

A wolf tended to hide behind the good ol’ boy facade here in the South.

She picked her way out of the stall, taking care not to dirty her sandals. The soothing cocoon of familiarity she always felt in the presence of animals immediately disappeared as she slipped into the wide alley that cut through the stables. As she passed Kane, she was once more impressed with his height; she barely reached his chest.

What little she knew of the Harrington brothers had come from local gossip after they had taken over the manor, and then it had mostly covered Mason. Kane hadn’t moved here full-time until very recently, and lived in his own home in the historic district downtown. According to the gossip mill, he had yet to hook up with anyone, but that wasn’t for lack of trying on the ladies’ parts. More than a few were eager to take Kane for a test drive.

Which meant Presley would not be their favorite person. Her steps slowed as she came back to the major flaw in his plan: she was not the best person to help Kane gain acceptance. And though she’d never admit it in a million years, the thought of this virile, astute man seeing just how inadequate she was in this situation had her cheeks burning already.

But she also couldn’t let her reputation be ruined because of her stepmother’s greed and ineptitude.

When she got close to the main door of the stables, Presley let her trepidation bring her to a full halt. Kane got a little ahead of her, then paused. He threw a look over his shoulder that seemed to ask what the problem was. How could he say so much with just a look? She had the feeling time spent with Kane Harrington would not be filled with idle chitchat.

Which would be a welcome prospect after endless hours of it with her stepmother.

Shoot! She’d forgotten her stepmother had spent all week expounding on what an event the Harrington’s open house would be, which meant Marjorie would be a witness to this command performance. And she was a woman who was more than aware of Presley’s faults and not shy about bringing them up when she had the chance. Not vindictively—it just never occurred to her flighty little self that what she was saying embarrassed Presley to no end.

Presley just couldn’t do this. She’d end up falling flat on her face, literally and probably physically, too.

“What is it, Presley?”

If he had demanded, she might have lied. Instead his coaxing tone brought the most unexpected words to her lips. “How can I possibly pretend to be the—” she choked a little “—lover of a virtual stranger?”

Kane didn’t seem the least bit fazed by her naive question. Instead he retraced his steps until he was all too close and her body was a jumble of sparks she didn’t recognize.

“Would you like to practice first?” he asked, his husky tone sending a singular shiver down her spine.

Yes. “No! I just need time—”

“And I need everyone to talk about something else besides why the prize stud horse won’t be making an appearance in my stables. The surest way to distract people from that is if we have a captive audience.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

His unexpected chuckle had her stomach doing somersaults. What was wrong with her tonight?

Without warning, Kane brushed her chin with his long fingers. Startled at the warm contact, 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.

Sensations immediately assaulted Presley, as if her body weren’t already on overload. 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. Most of her experience had been like that. Instead, he rested against her mouth for a few moments. 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 she opened to him. 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 like a chaste maid from the seventeenth century. But no—

“How dare you?” she breathed.

He glanced down. Her gaze followed his and her cheeks started to burn.

Her hands clutched the lapels of his suit jacket, wrinkling the fabric. Her lungs strained for air as though she were a horse bellowing after a race. Her heart beat hard in her chest, the pounding of her pulse finding an embarrassing echo lower in her body.

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

Mortification that she could be overwhelmingly affected while he was completely cool hardened her attitude. “I told you to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I wasn’t using my hands,” he said, holding them out to his sides. “See? No harm, no foul.”

Despite herself, the deep tone of his voice gave her just a smidgen of satisfaction, even when he was lying through his teeth.

Three

“Sir, there’s a trailer out—”

The words barely registering, Kane turned to find his stable manager, Jim Harvey, standing in the doorway of the barn. Jim’s gaze moved from Kane’s face to Presley.

His eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—”

“No problem,” Kane cut him off quickly. He had a feeling Presley was on the edge of bolting at any moment. He needed this to be short and simple to set her at ease.

“Jim, this is Presley Macarthur.”

Jim nodded. Recognition softened his expression, and he slipped off his cowboy hat. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

He looked back and forth between the two of them, obviously curious about what he’d walked in on but smart enough to know when something wasn’t his business.

“Give us about an hour, if you don’t mind,” Kane went on, “then load Sun up for Miss Macarthur in the trailer so she can take him home.”

Despite his confused look, Jim didn’t question Kane in front of Presley. “Yes, sir.” He turned to the woman who hadn’t spoken a word. “I’ll be right nearby, ma’am. We’ll inspect the trailer when you get back.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

Ah, they were back to the confident, businesslike voice now. Probably for the best, though the off-guard squeaky one was Kane’s favorite so far. What would she sound like if he kissed her again? Touched her more intimately? Cutting off the interesting train of thought, he offered Presley his arm and escorted her out of the stables.

They had barely stepped into the night air when she paused. “I don’t understand. You’re just gonna hand him back over to me?” She waved toward the brightly lit house. “Don’t you want to test the goods before you make that decision?”

Kane couldn’t help smirking. “I believe I already have.”

Feeling the wave of shock shoot through her, he patted her hand in a benign gesture and continued on. As they crossed the drive back to the house, Kane found himself hyperaware of the woman at his side. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, which made her taller than the average woman. She would fit right into the crook where his chest met his arm. The faint scent of honeysuckle teased his nose, an unusual perfume and one that reminded him of some of his happiest times on a horse in the countryside near his childhood home.

Honeysuckle had also grown on the edge of the yard at the house where he’d grown up before his mother died. He could still vividly remember her first attempts to teach him the gentle force needed to get the liquid from the honeysuckle flowers—and the tiny burst of sweetness on his tongue when he succeeded.

“Besides,” he continued on, “I never go back on my word. Sun will be home tonight.” They’d reached the covered side entry, and Kane paused with his hand on the doorknob. “This situation is tricky, but I know you’ll do what’s best for your family and your business.”

Blackmail wasn’t a sexy subject, but before they stepped onto the stage, Kane wanted Presley to remember exactly what was at stake here. The stiffness of her body told him more about her state of mind than her simple nod of acquiescence.

He ushered her inside with a hand at the small of her back, and the lights from the Swarovski crystal chandeliers left her blinking. In fact, her whole demeanor changed the minute they walked through the door. If someone had told him a person could become invisible, he wouldn’t have believed them—until he saw Presley practically pull off the impossible.

They’d barely made it halfway down the back breezeway when Mason and EvaMarie stepped out of the office. “Kane,” his brother called.

Only as he stopped and registered the concern on Mason’s face did Kane remember that he hadn’t taken the time to shut down his computer before storming out the door. The knowledge sat between them like a lead brick. Mason knew exactly what that email from Vanessa Gentry would have done to Kane—he’d been there when Emily had left him behind, and watched as Kane systematically let everything disappear from his life except their shared goal.

Because life was easier that way.

Hoping to ward off any questions from his impulsive sibling, Kane preempted the conversation. “Mason, this is Presley Macarthur.”

His brother blinked, then focused on the woman on Kane’s arm. “Oh, from Macarthur Haven?”

Presley’s hand tightened on Kane’s elbow. But she relaxed a touch when EvaMarie nodded and smiled. “Hello, Presley.”

“Congratulations, EvaMarie.”

The lovely woman, who had been Mason’s first love and had been the epitome of a woman defeated by life when they’d returned to Kentucky, now practically glowed. “Thank you.”

As the women chatted for a moment about the engagement, Mason looked at Kane with a raised brow.

“There’s been a change of plans,” Kane murmured, keeping his voice low though he’d moved slightly away from Presley.

“As in?”

Kane turned to face his brother. “It appears Ms. Macarthur didn’t have the proper authority to sell Sun.”

Mason cursed. “That’s a helluva mistake to make.”

An understatement if ever there was one. But then, Kane was being generous when he labeled Marjorie Macarthur’s actions a mistake.

“What are we gonna do now? Our plan going forward hinged on having a celebrated stud for the stables.” Mason’s worry practically vibrated in his voice.

“Never fear,” Kane assured him, as he had many times in the last two years. They’d been through a lifetime of ups and downs together. Kane wasn’t about to let them fail. “I’ve got a new plan that will work just fine.”

His brother’s gaze followed him as he turned back to the women and slipped his arm around Presley’s shoulders. The muscles beneath his palm tightened and her smile faltered for a moment, but he didn’t move away. The sooner she became used to his touch, the better.

The more he touched her tonight, the sooner word would start to spread. Nothing overtly sexual. He’d keep it completely casual—not that anyone would interpret it that way.

Kane wanted his name linked with hers from this moment forward...for however long this situation remained beneficial to them both.

Mason continued to watch him with interest and just a touch of shock. Not surprising, since Kane hadn’t been publicly involved with a woman since Emily left.

He hadn’t wanted to be and was actually shocked by how much he wanted it now. But then he spotted Presley’s stepmother over Mason’s shoulder. When her stepdaughter’s presence registered, Ms. Macarthur trotted their way with the grace of an overadorned poodle, and Kane had only a moment to wonder if he really knew what he’d gotten himself into.

Her loud greeting only confirmed it. “Lordy, Presley! Is that really hay in your hair?”

* * *

As her stepmother’s words echoed throughout the long, open back hall of the Harrisons’ home, Presley wished she could sink into the floor.

Not that embarrassing her was anything new for Marjorie. No, it actually seemed to be her regular pastime. But repeated experience didn’t take away the sinking feeling in Presley’s stomach or the hot flush that flooded her cheeks so quickly that she was surprised she didn’t pass out from blood loss.

Her stepmother practically shoved herself between Presley and Kane. “Look at you. Hay on your dress, dirt on your sandals. What were you doing out in the barn, you silly girl?”

“I think the answer to that might be just as embarrassing as the question.”

With that single answer, Kane caught the attention of everyone within hearing distance. Presley wished she could fade into the flowered wallpaper as his laser gaze inspected her from head to toe, no doubt noticing her lack of style and ability to attract dirt no matter how hard she tried to stay clean. But he didn’t mention it. Oh, no. Kane had embraced this pretend relationship wholeheartedly.

If he only knew what a mistake he was making—though it was beneficial for her that he didn’t. The sooner he realized she wasn’t going to be the perfect princess on his arm at all these events, the sooner she’d have to repay him in full.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured near her ear, though his voice still seemed to carry. “I didn’t mean to get you all dirty.”

Holy Moses. The heat that swept through her as she heard him talk should have been an embarrassment. She should have been wishing he would quit making a spectacle of her. Instead, she wished he would keep on talking and make her forget about their audience.

He reached out to snag the small piece of hay from the tip of her loose ponytail—the only hairstyle she could comfortably create—and then held it up as he smiled into her eyes. There was mischief in that look, and also something deeper, darker, that tempted her to join him in his game.

Only she’d never learned how to play.

Her stepmother was just as nonplussed, which was the first time Presley had ever seen that happen. Marjorie watched Kane’s actions with a kind of wide-eyed fascination, then glanced back and forth between the two of them as confusion clouded her expression.

Finally she focused solely on Presley, frowning. “Well, you should have at least told me you had a date. I could have helped you find something more appropriate to wear.”

Apparently the embarrassment wasn’t going to end any time soon. Over Marjorie’s shoulder Presley could see a group of women—the same debutantes who had haunted her existence since she was about fourteen—whispering furiously and grinning. All except one: Joan Everly. She simply stared through narrowed lids, anger slowly taking over her polite society mask.

“Oh,” Kane said, his amused tone warning Presley she wouldn’t like what was coming. “I think her dress suited my purposes just fine.”

Judging from the few gasps she heard out of the debs, Kane’s voice had carried. But Presley could sense the disbelief in people’s reactions. And now she was done being put on display.

She turned around and blindly grasped the nearest door handle and pushed her way through. She didn’t care where she went, as long as it was away from prying eyes. But the shuffle of feet and the click of dress shoes on the floor behind her told her she hadn’t escaped. She had company. Great. More confrontation was just what she wanted right now.

Give her a stubborn horse or an uppity ranch hand and she met the challenge like a trouper. Social settings and public displays of anything, much less affection, were definitely not her forte.

A familiar weariness seeped into her muscles. The feeling had made its first appearance as soon as her father’s funeral was over and all the guests were gone. Since then it returned regularly, but she always pushed it back. She didn’t have time to be tired, especially not with the task of taking care of her stepmother on top of her already heavy schedule managing the business.

So just as she had a hundred times in the past six months, she pushed the gray cloud back and straightened her spine. When she spun around, she saw that only their small group had followed, but it was Marjorie who spoke first.

“Presley, what is going on here?”

Confusion still reigned in Marjorie’s expression, but years of being ridiculed for not living up to Marjorie’s expectations, not being feminine enough, being too smart and serious all the time...none of that made Presley want to confide exactly what had happened in the barn earlier. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. How in the world could she possibly say out loud that the only way she could attract a man of Kane’s caliber was because her stepmother had tried to swindle the Harringtons out of a large amount of money?

Of course, given the result, Marjorie would probably see that as doing a good deed.

To Presley’s surprise, Kane spoke up. “The fact is, Presley wouldn’t even be here without your criminal lack of judgment, Ms. Macarthur.”

Shock rippled through the room, settling in Presley’s core. No one had ever stood up for her. Not even her daddy. When he’d brought Marjorie into their lives, he’d hoped that she’d teach his daughter to be a woman. Marjorie’s abject failure in that area was considered all Presley’s fault. And though he had loved her, her father hadn’t hidden his disappointment from her.

The look of shock on Mason’s face was priceless. Especially when Kane stepped closer to Presley and draped his arm around her shoulders again. But Kane ignored his brother as he said, “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m very grateful she did show up.”

Marjorie wasn’t buying it. “If you expect me to believe that my Presley snared the catch of the county in thirty minutes, in that dress, you must think I’m really stupid.”

Presley wasn’t sure what set off her normally dormant outrage. The stress of the day. Kane’s blackmail. Or everyone’s obvious disbelief even as Kane insisted they were interested in each other. If you had to sell it that hard, might as well not sell it at all.

Without thought Presley stomped forward, invading her stepmother’s personal space. “What I think is that you couldn’t care less how your actions affect me or anyone else who has to put up with your antics.”

“Well, I knew that my very smart stepdaughter would smooth everything out,” Marjorie whined.

“Excuse me?” Suddenly all the tension and upset of the night became too much and Presley was the one who couldn’t control her voice. She made a desperate attempt to contain the words but couldn’t keep them back. “You bargained with an animal you knew didn’t belong to you, but that’s okay because Presley will figure it all out?”

Marjorie blanched. “I know you love the horse, but money is—”

Presley stepped uncomfortably close, lowering her voice. “Not something you have an unlimited amount of anymore. And if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll do everything in my power to have Grant break Father’s will. Do you understand me?”

“He couldn’t.”

“He’s a great lawyer. I’m sure he could manage it for me.”

Something in her expression must have scared Marjorie, because she focused on Presley’s face and remained silent for a long moment. Finally she gave a stiff nod, then blinked, and the flighty society lady was back in action. “No need to be so serious, dear. This is a fun night. For you more than most, am I right?”

It was no use. All the anger and frustration flooding Presley’s veins had nowhere to go, no way out. Some days she thought running around in endless circles with her stepmother would never end. Why her father had subjected her to this particular hell, she’d never know.

And despite the threat she’d just made, she had little expectation of any change. The next shiny diamond to cross Marjorie’s path would catch her attention and block out all reason.

Leaving Presley with another six-foot-four-inch problem to solve—a magnitude totally out of her league.

Kane’s response didn’t exactly put her fears to rest. “I assure you, Ms. Macarthur, Presley and I have gotten off to a very good start. And we will be seeing a great deal of each other in the future.”

His words should have heaped another helping onto her pile of worry. Instead anticipation tingled in her stomach, warming her from the inside out. This was wrong. All wrong.

Presley preferred situations she could control.

“That settles that, then,” her stepmother offered with a toothy grin.

Marjorie’s problems always disappeared. Presley’s merely grew. And she had a feeling she was way out of her depth on this one.

Four

Kane wasn’t sure he was surprised when the woman who answered the Macarthurs’ front door told him, “Miss Presley is almost always in the barn.” The Presley he’d met the night before certainly wasn’t a Miss Kentucky pageant type. But he had to admit he didn’t have a lot of experience with daughters of bigwigs who were willing to get their hands dirty.

He was used to the daughters of fellow laborers, who loved animals and worked just as hard as any of the men.

He certainly hadn’t expected to hear Presley’s raised voice as he closed the stable door behind him. Several hands at the far end of the aisle kept their heads down and focused intently on their work, pointedly ignoring the noise. A lone man stood in the aisle closer to Kane, stance rigid, arms crossed over his chest, gaze trained tightly on the open stall in front of him until Kane walked into his peripheral vision.

Their eyes met as Presley’s hardened voice continued to boom out from inside a nearby stall. She was scolding someone Kane couldn’t see. “I realize she doesn’t like her hooves cleaned. First of all, if you can’t work around that, you aren’t good enough or experienced enough to be employed here. Second of all, if you ever lay a hand on any of my horses like that again, it’s the last horse you’ll touch in this barn. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a silence, and Kane saw the man in front of him tense up even more, if that was possible. From within the stall, the employee being reprimanded replied with a tight “yes, ma’am.”

Then Kane’s companion in the aisle relaxed.

“Now,” Presley said, her voice turning indulgent as though she was trying to teach something to a particularly hardheaded child, “I’ll do one hoof for you, then you can do the others while I watch.”

No argument was forthcoming. Kane grinned, imagining the grown stable hand being taken back to Hoof Cleaning 101 and the ribbing he would get from his coworkers later today. Sounded like he deserved it, though.

The man who stood before Kane in the aisle finally held a hand out to him. “Hello there. I’m Bennett, the Macarthurs’ stable manager.”

Kane shook, introducing himself in turn. He jerked his head in the direction of the stall. “Shouldn’t you be dealing with that?”

Bennett shrugged. “Usually I do, but Miss Presley is a very hands-on owner. Has been since her daddy first brought her into the stables.” He turned his gaze back to the stall door as if checking progress. “There are certain things she will always handle herself. Mistreatment, no matter how small, is something she’s adamant about being informed of immediately. We have a zero-tolerance policy here.”

“But she didn’t throw him out on his ass at the first sign?”

“Depends on what happens. She’s also a fair employer. She understands that many of these men have families to support or are just learning their trade.” Bennett’s craggy face softened with approval. “The men know it, too. They don’t cross her. We rarely have problems, but she’s quick to handle whatever comes along.”

So she had experience along with her degree in equine management. No wonder she was well respected. Kane had done a little digging before showing up this morning, just to double-check the information he’d gathered from the grapevine. But he hadn’t just been after her business credentials—EvaMarie had known a lot more about Presley personally, piquing Kane’s interest on a totally different topic.

Her reluctance to make personal appearances at parties had been well noted throughout the years, often leaving her open to ridicule from other women in their social circle. While her business reputation had been solid long before her father’s death, her social reputation had often floundered. After watching Presley for those few moments with Marjorie the night before, he could easily guess why.

She’d never been allowed to find her true footing. To be herself in the face of peer pressure from society’s little darlings. Kane’s sudden desire to help her set off alarm bells in his head. The last thing he should do was attempt to fix anyone. He’d been down that road before, and he simply wasn’t built for it.

It was the only thing he’d ever failed at in his life.

But Presley was a whole different ball game from Emily. The last thing she needed was taking care of—as her management skills attested. If Kane could help her tweak her public persona while they were together, it would simply be an added bonus of their arrangement. He was way more interested in what would happen in private when their time in the spotlight was done.

“See, you just have to know how to handle her. Now go help Arden get the water tank fixed,” he heard Presley command.

Something about her confidence made Kane smile—and his body come to attention. Presley wouldn’t be a limp, lazy princess who expected someone to make her happy in bed. Oh, no, this woman would be a full participant.

Not that he should be considering that so soon...

As a shamefaced man came out the stall door with his thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, Bennett directed him down the aisle with a jerk of his head. He glanced as Kane. “That could have ended very badly, with fussin’ and fightin’. But not with Miss Presley. Somehow she can take ’em to task, put ’em on the right path and get everyone movin’ forward without a knock-down-drag-out.” He winked. “But I’m always nearby, just in case.”

Bennett followed his employee down the aisle, leaving Kane to approach the stall door all alone.

Presley’s murmured words to the mare soothed Kane’s nerves, which he now realized had been standing at attention from the first moment he’d heard her raised voice. Unfortunately, the sight of her as she bent over and carefully inspected each of the horse’s hooves had other things coming to attention, too.

Last night, Presley’s flowy dress had been hiding some serious curves. Today she wore a very soft-looking T-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. Rounded hips blossomed from a tiny waist hugged by denim. When she stood to pat the horse’s back, he saw that the cotton of her shirt clung just as faithfully in all the right places.

Holy hell. He was in trouble...so why was he grinning like an idiot?

He forced his gaze upward, only to encounter a glare directed his way. Funny, it didn’t dampen his excitement. “Hello, Presley.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, narrowing her gaze on him.

“Watching you in action,” he replied, fully understanding how much that would aggravate her. “I’m impressed.”

To his surprise, she had quite a sarcastic mouth on her. “I’m so glad you liked what you saw.”

But her bravado didn’t stop a flush spreading over her cheeks. Perhaps as a gentleman, he should clarify his previous comment. “There’s a difference between appreciating a woman and disrespecting her—my mama taught me that.”

“So you’re respectfully blackmailing me?”

“Considering the concessions I’ve made, isn’t it more of a mutual agreement than blackmail?”

“An agreement I’m forced to enter into if I don’t want my family and business reputation ruined... I think that does qualify as blackmail.”

That bossy tone should not be so arousing. And he couldn’t deny her logic. “Maybe I wanted to spend time with you.”

“A woman you didn’t know?” She scoffed. “You’d be the first.”

With just those few words, she confirmed EvaMarie’s story from this morning. Kane kept silent.

Sticking to his stance might take away his gentleman card, but he wouldn’t miss what was coming for the world.

Presley skirted around the horse’s rump, making her way to a clipboard on top of a cupboard by the door. “Most men are only hoping for one thing when they spend time with me,” she said, studying the papers with unnecessary intensity. “My expertise with horses.”

Kane nodded, even though she pretended she wasn’t watching him. But he saw the quick sideways glance, no matter how brief.

She continued, “Not frilly dresses and small talk.”

Deciding she’d had enough time to spout nonsense, he crossed the threshold of the stall. To her credit, she didn’t retreat as he neared. He didn’t box her in but got close enough that he could smell her shampoo. “There are things a lot sexier than social niceties.”

It was too soon, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to sample some of the thick blond strands of hair in her ponytail. Silky—just as he’d imagined.

“Why are you touching me?” she asked.

Her tone wasn’t quite as breathless as he’d have liked. He sensed just a hint of excitement.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m simply fascinated by the color, texture.”

She smoothed her hands over her hair. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

That’s what her mouth said, but as soon as he looked up to catch her eyes, she glanced away. Avoidance. At least it confirmed what he suspected was happening here. Time for a different approach: honesty. “Look, Presley. I know that this might be uncomfortable. I’m simply trying to make things more natural between us.”

“I don’t think I like it.”

“But you aren’t sure?”

She stiffened, her look transforming into a glare. “That’s incredibly sexist.”

“Or incredibly honest.” He pushed on, leaving the inference of his own interest behind for the moment. There was another way to get her riled up, which he enjoyed far too much. “I told you, touching is expected. Would you rather we practice in public?”

“I’d rather not practice at all.”

“But practice makes perfect. Besides, I find I enjoy touching you. It’s okay if you like it, too. It doesn’t have to go any further than, well, public displays of affection.”

Presley opened her mouth to speak, then paused. She studied him for a moment, but he had the feeling she wasn’t really looking at him. “Why do I feel like we’ve covered this before?”

He let his amusement mold his mouth...just a little. “Guess it’s something we’ll have to keep doing until we get it right between us.”

Her perfect bow-shaped lips twitched, lush in their natural state. He could swear she was holding in laughter. “Like, practice?”

“Maybe.”

Her entire face opened up, letting her enjoyment of the moment shine through her earlier irritation. Seeing Presley give in to her amusement was sexy as hell. Her smile was wide and unself-conscious, her eyes bright and seeking his. When he laughed with her, the glow increased like a power surge.

Gorgeous.

A noise interrupted them. Kane turned to see Bennett in the doorway. Presley’s laughter shut off instantly.

“Miss Presley, Sun is ready.”

Kane watched from the corner of his eye as she nodded. Bennett left, but Presley continued to stare at the doorway. She shifted. She swallowed. Kane waited her out.

“Was there something you needed, Kane?” she finally asked.

Did she worry about him being too close to the stud? “I did want to speak with you. Iron out a few details.”

“Well, I have things I need to do right now.”

As if that would stop him. “I don’t mind tagging along.”

From the look on her face, Kane could tell she wasn’t sure what to feel. Ah, he was making progress...

* * *

Presley preceded Kane down the barn corridor, feeling flustered. Why in the world hadn’t she told him to hit the road? She should have. After all, the man was completely taking advantage of a situation she had no control over.

But she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when she’d first spotted him in the doorway. He could have leered. He could have been indifferent. But the pure male appreciation wasn’t something she’d encountered before today. Oh, men had told her she was pretty, though it never rang true. But something about Kane’s gaze, unsullied by greed or arrogance, was special.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t fought this harebrained scheme harder. Maybe she was more than a little interested to see exactly how this would all go. There was probably something very wrong with that line of thinking, but Presley was nothing if not honest with herself.

When they got to Sun’s stall, Kane didn’t force his way in or try to take over. She’d come across a lot of men who thought they knew better than a woman in the stables...until she taught them they were wrong. It didn’t take a huge confrontation or butting of heads. She simply let them go on until they ran out of steam, then stepped in and quietly set them straight.

Unless she needed to raise her voice. Then she did.

Nodding to Bennett, who was already in the stall, Presley put her hand on Sun’s withers and whispered near the horse’s ear. He whipped his head around fast, and Presley heard Kane’s step behind her, but she didn’t flinch. They’d played this game before, her and Sun. The horse didn’t bite or hit her with his heavy head. Instead he corrected at the last minute and pressed the side of his muzzle against her shoulder, pushing hard. She stumbled, chuckling, then reached up to give him a rough rub behind his ears.

“Likes to play, does he?” Kane asked.

Bennett laughed from his position on Sun’s other side. “Believe it or not, he’s like a big kid. And she’s incredible with him.”

Presley felt warmth creep into the pit of her stomach. No matter how often someone complimented her on her knowledge, it was this connection with the animals in her care that meant the most to her. Especially with Sun.

She checked him over quickly, just to make sure in the daylight that there were no adverse effects from last night’s quick trip. Then she and Bennett discussed what he needed over the next week. Her big baby got a good rubbing and a piece of apple she was hiding in her pocket before they left.

After locking Sun back down, Bennett said goodbye to them outside the stud’s stall door and went to tend to the other horses.

“He’s right, you know,” Kane said, “I’ve never seen anyone so in tune with horses.”

Presley ducked her head, embarrassed by Kane’s compliment, even while that warm glow spread. “They can be sensitive creatures. It’s all about knowing them, what they need. Of course, Sun and I go way back.” Maybe that’s why the horse was the one thing her daddy had willed to her alone. “Daddy bought him for me the year my mother died,” she found herself adding.

Wow, what a maudlin subject to introduce. But Kane didn’t hesitate before he asked, “How old?”

Though she now regretted bringing it up, she answered, “Six.”

“I was fifteen when my mother died after a long fight with cancer.”

She glanced at him in surprise. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she might have remembered this about the Harrington family but had forgotten in the loads of other, more recent, gossip. His dark eyes were solemn, his gaze direct. It almost made her feel as though she could actually talk to him about things—private things she mostly kept to herself now that her daddy was gone.

“Did your father also insist on bringing in a new mommy?” she murmured, though she did add a bit of a smirk to lighten the impact of her question.

Kane smiled too, but his dark gaze remained serious. “Nope. From then on out, it was just us guys. Action movies and baseball games. When we were older, beer and pizza nights.”

“That must have been nice...”

“What must have been nice?” Marjorie’s voice was jarring, not just because it was so close and loud, but because Presley could only remember one other time her stepmother had ventured into the stables. She’d never been back.

Presley quickly closed her gaping mouth as Marjorie appeared from behind Kane.

Kane didn’t flinch, of course. “We were just talking about remarrying.”

“I see,” Marjorie said, nodding as if she had all the knowledge in the world. Her bejeweled pantsuit and heels were completely out of place in her surroundings. “I’m afraid our girl has never appreciated what her father and I tried to do for her. I’m sure you were more grateful to your father...”

“He never remarried.”

Short and sweet. No apologies. Presley was beginning to enjoy this.

The shocked look on Marjorie’s face melted into confusion, but she quickly recovered. Presley suppressed a sigh as her stepmother prattled on about her own marriage and how she couldn’t understand why Presley had never taken to her. There ya go. Tell all our dirty little secrets.

“Did you need something, Marjorie?” Presley finally cut in.

“Oh.” Marjorie blinked, obviously reorienting herself to her mission. “I saw you arrive, Kane, and wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings from last night.”

No I’m sorry for stealing your money. But why would Marjorie think she needed to apologize for that?

“I’m over the moon to have my Presley taking care of things and wouldn’t want you to think otherwise,” Marjorie said. “She keeps this place running...”

Presley raised a single brow, surprised Marjorie tore herself away from her society lunches long enough to notice, much less be grateful.

“If I could just get her to listen to me more—”

Please, stop talking.

But no, Marjorie just had to keep going. “She has so much potential, you know.”

“And she’s living up to it every day,” Kane replied.

Marjorie and Presley both focused in on Kane. Presley couldn’t tell which of them was more shocked. No one had ever defended her against Marjorie’s inane yet often hurtful prattle in this house. Her father had let it go on and never gave a clue to his own thoughts. At times, he had even reiterated Marjorie’s message in his own way.

Oh, he’d loved Presley. She had no doubt. But he’d thought she’d be better off as a prissy princess, not a tomboy, even though she could run this business better than any man here. She’d never understood that.

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