MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance (29 page)

She wouldn’t need hours though, she thought, as she settled down beside his prone head. Santiago would talk some sense into Rachel, and the woman would put away the gun and think a little more about Alex’s offer. And there’d be no more crazy threats about killing people.

Although Alex really needed to hear Rachel’s true feelings about Grace.

Cassie pulled her phone from her back pocket, pressed ‘record’ and held it close to the stall mesh. Maybe it would pick up the conversation in the office. She’d certainly been wrong about Santiago. She should have know Alex would have a man in place, watching over Grace. No doubt Santiago was relaying everything to Alex, protecting his interests, watching over his daughter. And Alex had mentioned a safeguard—

Pop.
The sound was foreign in the serene barn. For a moment, Cassie couldn’t process what she’d heard.

Then the phone dropped from her nerveless fingers, her throat so dry it was impossible to breathe. She stared in terror at Freckles, at his soft and trusting eyes. He lifted his head as if questioning whether he should get up.

Oh, God
. Fear galvanized her and she pressed his head back in the straw. He gave a resigned sigh that sounded horrifyingly loud. She crouched by the horse, every nerve taut, praying she’d hear Santiago’s voice again. But it was silent.

She plucked her fallen phone from the straw and sent a frantic message to Alex.
I think Rachel just shot Santiago.

Somehow the words made it seem unbearably real, and she pressed the cell phone against her chest, the sound of her heartbeat thrashing in her ears.

Freckles’ nostrils flared, picking up on her distress. He raised his head again but she pushed it back. This was no longer a game, with a verbal whiplashing from Rachel the only penalty. This was terrifyingly real. She was alone in the enemy’s barn, hiding thirty feet from a mad woman.

The minutes crawled past. Cassie pulled in another shallow breath, her hand pressed against Freckles’ neck, warning him to remain flat in the straw. She didn’t know if Rachel had left the office or how much time had passed since the gunshot. But it felt interminable.

She couldn’t hear any sounds although thick aisle rubber would muffle footsteps, making it impossible to guess Rachel’s location. It felt like the woman was close though, judging from the goose bumps chilling Cassie’s neck. No way was she leaving the stall. She and Freckles would be fine if they just remained low.

And then Freckles swished his tail, the rustle of straw startlingly loud. For a second Cassie quit breathing. She stared at the top of the door, expecting to see Rachel’s face loom over the stall. But everything remained silent. There was still no noise from the aisle. Or the office.

Her phone vibrated. She jerked her head back down and scanned Alex’s newest message:
Santiago is fine. He just sent me a text. Wants to meet in the office. Rachel has agreed to sign.

Relief swept her, so warm and welcome her shoulders relaxed against the thick boards. So the popping noise hadn’t been a gunshot. It seemed Santiago had convinced Rachel to accept the offer. Maybe they’d been opening champagne. Perhaps they were kissing now and that would explain why it was so quiet…although it was odd he’d embrace a woman who’d just threatened to shoot him. And Rachel had sounded deadly serious. There’d been no mistaking her rage when she accused Santiago of betrayal.

Cassie typed another message to Alex.
Does Santiago give you private reports about Grace and the stable? If so, I think Rachel found out. She sounded furious.

Damn
, Alex wrote.
I better call him. Stay hidden
.

She edged closer to Freckles’ solid presence, stroking his neck while she absorbed this new information. Alex hadn’t denied that Santiago worked for him. Which explained why he’d trusted the man with Grace’s safety. An elite polo player who doubled as a pseudo protector would be expensive, but she should have guessed Alex would have security in place. Little wonder Rachel was enraged. She’d thought Santiago was her man. Everyone had.

A phone blared from the office. Cassie tilted her head, listening for the deep rumble of Santiago’s voice. But the phone rang six times, unanswered. The noise was replaced with tomblike silence.

She rocked forward, staggered by the realization that Santiago had really been shot. Rachel must have sent Alex that message.

Freckles was eyeing her with a look of concern. She flattened her hand back over his neck, drawing comfort from his presence but needing him to be quiet, now more than ever.

Her phone vibrated. She snatched it up and stared at Alex’s text:
Santiago’s not answering. Can you hear his phone?

Yes
, she typed, her fingers so numb with fear they fumbled over the tiny keys.
It’s ringing from the office. Call an ambulance. And the police. But stay away from the barn. Rachel wants to kill you.

Are you safe?
Alex wrote.

Yes. Just get Grace. Rachel is unstable. She wants to hurt you, any way she can.
Cassie stared in disbelief at the words she’d typed, hating to accept that Santiago had really been shot. No wonder Alex had always hurried home before the man left. With Santiago around, Grace had never been unprotected.

Are you still in the back stall?
Alex asked.
Can you get out?

No
. She tapped out a frantic reply.
Rachel is too close. I think she’s in the office. She’s waiting for you. But it’s a trap. Stay away.

Seconds later Alex’s text filled her screen:
I’m coming. When you hear my car, run to the poolhouse and hide with Grace. Wait for the police. They’ll be there soon, love always.

She blinked in horror. What was he planning? It was almost like he was saying goodbye. She expected he’d speed to Grace, but naturally he’d try to help Santiago. The poor man might still be alive. And Rachel could remain holed up in the office for hours, forcing the police and ambulance to remain outside…with Cassie and Freckles caught in any crossfire.

But Alex wasn’t thinking clearly. Rachel had a gun while he was unarmed. He couldn’t just stroll into the barn and ask to check on Santiago’s health.

Don’t come here!
she texted.
It’s too dangerous. She plans to kill you so Grace will inherit everything. And afterwards Grace wouldn’t be safe either.

She shivered, gripping her phone with both hands, willing him to answer. But the screen remained empty.

Clearly he didn’t understand the situation. She gave a frustrated sob, knowing she had to risk calling him. Make him understand that Rachel had turned deadly. She pressed his number, then turned her mouth closer to the wall and wet her throat, trying to gather enough saliva for a whisper. Her mouth was so dry, so parched with fear—

Straw rustled and hooves thumped as a big body shifted.

She put her phone down, realizing too late that she’d removed her hand from Freckles’ neck and he’d assumed it was time to get up. He was standing above her now, straw entwined in his mane…and her beige belt dangling oddly from his neck.

Her chest pounded so hard it hurt. She didn’t want to get up. Wanted to burrow beneath the straw and wait until the police arrived. But she had to convince Freckles to lie back down. And the belt around his neck was much too noticeable.

She rose on shaky legs. Peered up and down the empty aisle then edged to his side. His eyes turned hopeful, as if anticipating a reward for a trick well done. She gave him a silent pat and tugged downward on the belt. He blew out a sigh, reluctant to lie back down but too sweet-natured to protest. Then his ears pricked as his attention switched to something behind her.

Cassie’s hand froze over the belt. She turned, swept with a horrible feeling of dread.

Rachel stood in the doorway of the office. She didn’t move or speak. She just stared, as if in disbelief. Then her teeth bared in a smile and she raised a steel-gray gun. “Seems my plan needs some adjustment,” she said. “But this will work. I can’t wait to see
his
face when he finds out all that he lost today.”

Cassie’s heart pounded in terror. She should duck, maybe jump sideways so Freckles wouldn’t be shot too, but her frozen legs felt disconnected to her brain. She could only clutch at Freckles’ mane. And stare into the dark muzzle of the gun.

“Is that the horse you two found together?” Rachel’s nostrils flared. “Did you really think he’d be welcome here? That I would want a constant reminder?” She shook her head, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing.

“He’ll have to go too, of course,” she said. “But not today.” She gestured with her gun. “Now step out of there. Alex never realized you and Santiago were having an affair. But don’t worry. Grace and I will mourn you all…”

Her mouth was still moving but Cassie could no longer understand her words. She couldn’t hear anything but a dull roaring.

And then a silver convertible launched through the entrance. It screeched down the aisle, skidding across the rubber. Slid sideways and jerked to a stop in front of the office.

Alex leaned over the side, swinging his polo mallet in an avenging arc. The gun flew from Rachel’s hand. Freckles flinched, momentarily startled. But he didn’t move his feet, remaining rock solid as if aware Cassie needed his support.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but conversely at blazing speed. The car shivered and stalled, Rachel was kneeling and holding her wrist, and Alex held the gun.

And then he was there, running his hands over Cassie’s head, her neck, her shoulders. “Are you shot?” he asked, his face blazing with an intensity she’d never seen, the irises so dark his eyes looked black. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” she managed. “Check Santiago.”

He nodded. “Stay here.”

It was impossible to move. Tremors wracked her body and she simply clung to Freckles, even as Alex yanked a screeching Rachel into the office and out of sight. Minutes later grim-faced officers swarmed the barn followed by two men running with a white medical stretcher.

And then Alex was beside her again, carefully cocooning her in the zebra-striped cooler he pulled from the straw.

“How’s Santiago?” she asked, her tongue thick.

“Shot in the chest,” Alex said, his eyes still an odd color. “But they think he’ll make it. Thanks to you.” And then he was holding her and she could barely breathe, but maybe that was because of his viselike grip or the stink of burnt rubber or because Freckles kept tickling her neck with his whiskers.

“God, I’m sorry,” he said. “Rachel… I didn’t expect... I’m so sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “Shouldn’t have risked it.”

His arms tightened even more and she could feel the pounding of his heart, his ragged breathing, his utter agony.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, trying to ease his guilt. “But that was so brave. Coming in like that with only a polo mallet. And that was a high risk shot… Not even one you practiced.”

But despite her good intentions, her mouth wobbled. Because she knew what would have happened if he hadn’t come when he did. If he had chosen to remain at the poolhouse with Grace. If he’d been mere seconds slower.

He didn’t say anything, just wrapped his hands around her face and stared into her eyes. She could feel the shaking of his thick palms. “I was so scared,” he whispered. “When Santiago didn’t answer. He’s a good man, capable. So I knew it was bad. I pushed that car for everything it had… It almost wasn’t enough.”

And then she realized how he’d arrived so quickly. He hadn’t stopped at the poolhouse. “So you didn’t stop and check on Grace?” she said. “You came right here?”

“Of course,” he said simply. “You needed me more.”

And though the air was still acrid with the stink of rubber, somehow her chest felt lighter, the air sweeter. And despite the odd presence of a car twisted in the barn aisle, everything seemed normal again. Optimistic even.

Freckles seemed to realize the show was over and that his services were no longer required. He stepped away from Cassie’s side and resumed eating hay. Two officers lingered outside the stall, keen to take her statement but clearly loath to rush a man as important as Alex. And he needed to hurry to the poolhouse and somehow explain all the emergency vehicles to his daughter.

The guilt emanating from his taut body made her ache, and she knew there’d be challenging times ahead. However, her last reservations about making a life with Alex and Grace disappeared. Because it was obvious his arms were big enough to hold them both.

The appreciative crowd roared in delight as Alex stretched over Ginger’s shoulder and hooked Santiago’s mallet, preventing a tie-breaking goal. The two men had put on an amazing show, demonstrating a level of polo play not usually seen at the Annual Family Tournament. The winner of this game would have bragging rights for the entire year although it was fully expected that a professional like Santiago would carry his team to a last-minute victory.

Cassie still didn’t think it fair that Santiago was playing on the Jonathon Stiles team—after all, Santiago lived in the Sutherland poolhouse—but Alex had just chuckled and said Family Day was meant to be fun and a chance to encourage others to try the sport.

As if the two men weren’t both playing to win.

She gave a wry smile. She’d grown to like and respect Santiago but Alex had told him not to hold back, and the Argentinean was clearly playing for his bonus. He pressed his horse into Ginger’s shoulder, bumping the mare off the ball, and repaying Alex with a skillful maneuver of his own. The two men were the definition of aggressive, both well mounted, both undeniably talented.

It had taken almost a year for Santiago to recover from the gunshot wound, but he was back in the saddle now and clearly as good as ever. Alex confided it wasn’t the first time Santiago had been shot and in the man’s line of work he suspected it wouldn’t be the last.