High Stakes Chattel (13 page)

“Well, good for you,” she sa
id. The mood between them was strained.

Nico asked about Samantha’s mother and they talked a few minutes about her condition before he excused himself to go back to work.

As Samantha watched him leave, her heart literally hurt. If felt like a weight sat upon her chest. Would she always be a spectator in life? On the outside looking in.

She pinched herself. “Come on. Stop it. He is happy in his world with his work and you need to be happy with this opportunity to keep things afloat. Stop being a spoiled brat.”

Sam threw herself into her work for the next week, hoping to prove to both John and Nico that she was the best assistant groom they could have hired.

“That’s Lady Morgan,” John said, indicating the grand black lacquered coach that had just turned up the drive pulled by half a dozen matching bays.

Samantha stared at the coach, jealousy rising within her. She’d been back working for Nico for a week now, and this was the first time his…Lady Morgan…had come to visit.

“I
can take care of it,” she told John confidently. “You can go ahead and go out into the preserve as you were planning.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving her a speculative look. “If so, you’d best put on the rest of your costume.”

Samantha nodded and hurried to the tack room, where she’d left her vest, coat and hat. She rubbed a tad bit of dirt along her chin. Since her hair was still short, and she wore trousers anyway when working in the stable, no one would be able to tell she was a girl from a distance, but fooling Lady Morgan up close would take the entire outfit.

By the time the coach pulled up in front of the barn, Sam was standing outside waiting, hoping she looked like the capable young groom and not a
woman masquerading as a boy. She hurried forward to assist the coachman, but he shook his head.

“I’ll handle the horses myself,” he said, opening the coach door. “Lady Morgan is very particular about her horses.”

As he spoke, a voluptuous, blue-eyed blonde alighted gracefully from the coach. “Thank you, George,” she told the coachman. “You know me well.” She turned to Sam, frowning. “You’re new here. Did you replace the other groom?”

“No
, milady,” Sam said, staring at the ground so that Lady Morgan wouldn’t see the jealousy and hatred in her eyes. This woman was elegant and ladylike, everything Sam knew she could never be. “I’m John’s assistant, Sam. Lord Chattel acquired several new horses so John needed more help.”

“Really?” Lady Morgan asked with obvious interest.
“I would very much like to see them. Do you mind showing me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”
Sam was curious to know more about the woman, but had never thought she would have this opportunity. “After you, milady.” She indicated the direction of the barn.

They walk
ed into the barn together, and Sam took Lady Morgan to the back stalls where four beautiful new horses resided.

“Oh, they’re lovely,” Lady Morgan exclaimed. She was obviously a horsewoman, truly interested in the animals instead of merely pretending to be.

“Yes,” Sam admitted, thawing somewhat. Anyone who loved horses so much couldn’t be all bad. “Lord Chattel managed to find a perfectly matched team. They’re all three-years-olds, and have excellent strength, speed and temperament.”

“They’re all so beautifully matched,” Lady Morgan murmured, rubbing the nearest one between the ears. “How do you get their coats to shimmer this way? I must know so I can
tell my own groomsman.”

“I use seaweed,” Sam replied, happy to be able to share something the woman didn’t already know.

They talked for a while about the horses with Sam describing their virtues and the things they still had left to learn. Lady Morgan focused mostly on the beauty of the new horses.

“Lord Chattel has done a fine job c
hoosing these horses,” Lady Morgan said with a level of pride that made Sam want to scream. The woman obviously already viewed Nico as another beautiful possession. A shiny black stallion to tame.

“Yes, Lord Chattel is very good at choosing beauties,” S
am said absently, lost in the fantasy of shoving Lady Morgan into the water trough.

“My
, you are a fresh one,” Lady Morgan said, giving Sam a suggestive look. “Are you sure you’re big enough to take on this kind of job?”

Too late, Sam realized that the woman had taken her words as a
personal compliment about herself. Lady Morgan was actually flirting with her! Sam didn’t know whether to be amused or angry on Nico’s behalf. How dare she flirt with a groom when she was supposed to be in a relationship with a man like Nico? No matter how distanced she might be from him at the moment, she could not stand the thought of this woman taking advantage or hurting him in any way.

“Oh, I’m bi
g enough where it counts,” Sam said, with a cocky grin, deciding to see just how far the woman was willing to go.

Lady Morgan smiled and stepped closer, her gaze traveling down Sam’s slim body.
Luckily, she wore a jacket and the light inside the barn was fairly dark.

“In my experience
, grooms usually talk big but are short on delivery,” Lady Morgan purred and reached out to caress Sam’s arm. Sam wondered just how much experience with grooms the woman had.

“Would you like me to give yo
u a sample of my delivery?” Sam asked, lowering her voice in an imitation of Nico’s husky growl.

“Mmmhmm,” Lady Morgan said,
licking her lips and closing her eyes.

Samantha stared at the woman, torn between laughter and exasperation. This had to be
the strangest predicament in the world. What did she do now? She had no idea how to kiss like a man. She decided to pretend she was John. Strong and sturdy.

She leaned in
, and gave Lady Morgan a short but fairly rough kiss.

***

Nico had heard Anna’s coach arrive, so he’d gone outside, hoping to avoid a confrontation between Anna and Samantha. He certainly didn’t need those two women to meet. The last thing he’d expected was to enter the barn and find them…kissing?

Anger and reluctant arousal pulsed through him as he watched Samantha, in her ridiculous boy’s outfit, locked in a fairly passionate embrace with Anna Morgan. What the hell? He couldn’t fathom how such a thing had come to pass. Though he’d been seeing Anna for
some time, she wasn’t the one who roused his jealousy. He didn’t like to see Samantha kissing anyone but him.

“Excuse me,”
Nico said, his voice fairly dripping with sarcasm. “Am I interrupting something?”

The two women startled apart, but Anna composed herself quickly, too quickly, as though such a thing had happened to her a million times before. “N
othing you need to concern yourself with, dear. I have news.” She confidently strode over to him, leaving Sam behind without a glance.

“
Let’s go get some of those wonderful cakes your cook makes and I will tell you all about it. You will soon be getting your time with the Countess of Warwick—one step away from Prince Edward—to discuss your science.” She breezily took his hand, dragging him out of the barn, while chatting on about the Countess.

Nico
fought the urge to look back at Samantha, but decided he would take care of her later.

For the next hour,
Nico struggled to contain his frustration and annoyance. He’d accepted a relationship with this woman for her political connections, not her company, but her personality made the association nearly unbearable this afternoon. She babbled on about the party they were invited to and the people who would be there, and he couldn’t help but compare her vapid conversation with the funny, interesting talks he’d had with Samantha.

He had the feeling she was babbling so much because she was trying to keep him too occupied to ask her about the kiss. Fortunately for her, he didn’t care about her end of what had happened
. What he really wanted to hear was Samantha’s version of events.

Thankfully, her visit didn’t last long, since she’d merely stopped by during her rounds of afternoon calls.

The moment
her carriage departed, Nico stormed out to the barn. He found Sam in the back, mucking out a stall at a furious speed. She had removed her hat, coat and vest and was only wearing a white shirt with the sleeves pushed up and those damned trousers. He paused outside the stall, taking in the sight of her, anger and arousal pulsing through him as he thought about her kissing Anna. She had no right to look so gorgeous and feminine, when she was sweaty and working so hard. She obviously was not wearing a corset today, which he supposed would be difficult to work in. The thin lawn of her shirt molded to her lovely round breasts, the point of her nipples clearly visible.

“We need to talk,” he said
briskly.

“What about?” she asked in a defiant tone. She didn’t even look up at him, continuing to rake out the stall as though she were going for a record.

He tried to stifle his frustration. “About your behavior with Lady Morgan.”

“My behavior? Did
n’t you notice her behavior?” she asked furiously, still raking.

“Put down that r
ake and come over here,” he ordered.

She ignored him, still not bothering to so much as grace him with a glance.
How dare she ignore him? She should be apologizing or at least giving him an explanation for her actions.

Pushed beyond his limits, he picked up a bucket of water
that sat on the ground near his feet and upended it over her head, drenching her from head to toe. She dropped the rake, and gazed up at him in shocked horror, looking like a drowned rat.

“What did you do that for?”
she sputtered.

“O
bviously you needed cooling off,” he told her grimly.

If anything, the water made her even more arousing. The white shirt really clung to her breasts now, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Beautiful, pink nipples were pressed up against the wet fabric. Her wet hair dripped into her angry eyes as she glared at him.

She picked up the bucket, stomped
over to the trough to refill it, and threw it at him, surprising him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You're the one w
ho needed cooling off,” she said, fairly pulsing with anger. “Can't you handle it that your lover is attracted to me? Your kisses must pale in comparison to mine.”

“She’s not my lover.”
In two quick strides, he closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and pulled her to him. “You are so damn frustrating.”

He leaned down and kissed her passionately, letting his hands roam across the wet fabric, toying with her hard nipples.

After several long moments, she broke the kiss and stared up at him, desire and amusement dancing in her lovely green eyes. “Here, let me get that wet shirt off you, my lord.”

He help
ed her peel the wet fabric from his chest and stood there, shivering a bit as she ran her hands appreciatively across his skin.

“You don't really like women instead of men
, do you?” he asked, still confused and needing answers.

She laughed. “If you only knew how much I am enjoying the sight of your bare chest, you would not ask me that.”

Smiling, he leaned down and kissed the slender column of her throat, reaching behind her to cup her delicious bottom through her trousers. He groaned, desperate to make love to her. It seemed as though he’d wanted her forever, but he’d been so good, so much a bloody gentleman it made him want to shout.

Sliding his hands from
her bottom up to her chest, he unbuttoned her shirt and parted the two halves, gazing upon her beautiful breasts for a moment before lowering his head and kissing first one, and then the other. She sighed and threaded her hands through his hair, giving him complete access.

Enflamed, he continued to kiss and suckle her nipples while his hands slid down her sides, pushing the trousers down her slim hips until they pooled on the floor at her feet. He put his knee between
her thighs, nudging them apart, then touched her cleft, moaning when he realized how wet she was for him.