Unforgettable: A Loveswept Classic Romance (12 page)

“Bull.” He began pacing again. “I saw that schedule, remember? I might be inexperienced about breeding techniques, but even I could see you were giving him enough time to recover his potency between matings.”

She refused to blush at his bluntness. It was about time she acted like a mature adult around him. Having made that decision, she knew she had to confess her attempted finagling with Battle Cry. James should know she had been ready to pull a dirty trick with Lollipop’s Rainbow. He should know just how much integrity she lacked. She owed him that.

“You know the saying ‘what goes around, comes around’?” she asked.

“Yes, but what—”

“I … I was greedy with him, James.”

Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat again to cover it. To her horror, tears she couldn’t control trickled down her cheeks. She whipped around so her back was to him.

“Greedy?”

He walked up behind her. She moved away to the window, knowing she’d never calm herself unless she put distance between them.

“I had planned to breed him to Lollipop and tell you after the fact.”

“But you did tell me,” he said. “When I took the tour that morning. We talked about the custom of the breeder getting a place instead of charging a fee, and you got a place.”

“I lied about that!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with her frustration.

“You mean it’s not customary?”

“It’s just one of the ways a breeder and horse owner can cover costs. But it’s not a hard and fast custom!”

“It sounds like a good deal to me.” Chuckling, he approached her again. “Why shouldn’t the breeder share in the profits? She’s doing all the work and taking as much of a risk with her reputation as the owner is with his money.”

She turned to face him, not caring that he was so close. She was determined to get everything out in the open. “Dammit, James! I tried a dirty trick, and now it’s come back on me … and on you.”

He frowned in puzzlement. “But you just said getting a place is one of the ways of covering costs. As an owner who doesn’t have to pay breeders’ fees, I think it sounds like a damn good way.”

“You don’t understand.” She sighed. “I thought you were using my farm only as a temporary hideaway for Battle Cry—”

“Why the hell would you think that?” he demanded.

“Because you said so that night at the dance!” she replied, indignant. “You said you hadn’t inquired about placing him at the big farms in California or Kentucky, that you didn’t want them leaking the news.”

“I said I thought of you!” He sliced the air with his hand. “I didn’t consider any of them because I wanted to place him with you.”

“I …” She turned around and sniffled back a second set of threatening tears. “I figured that out eventually. But don’t you see, I was going to mate Lollipop without consulting you first because I was angry. That was unethical. And now Battle Cry is … It’s all my fault.”

He uttered a low curse, and she closed her eyes, feeling the condemnation. Then his hand touched
her hair, his fingers gently sweeping tendrils back from her face.

“You’re crying.”

“No, I’m trying to refill the river so we don’t have another drought this year,” she said sarcastically, her survival defenses surfacing at his touch.

He pulled her to him. She knew she should be fighting his embrace, but it felt good to be held by him. She even admitted that she needed it. He rubbed her back in comfort, and she snuggled closer, her tears trickling off. Her cheek was against his shoulder, and she could hear his heart beating faintly but steadily. His long absence seemed almost unreal now.

James held her tightly, blaming himself for not being there sooner to take some of the burden off her. That stupid business trip had been an exercise in selfishness. He had never seen her cry before, not for anything? But seeing the single track of a teardrop on each cheek nearly broke him.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” he whispered. “I wish I’d never bought that damn horse.”

She managed a chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he parroted, smiling. It was heartening that she could make a joke. And she was right. He didn’t really regret buying Battle Cry; he was only frustrated at the moment.

He realized the former awkwardness between them had vanished, thanks to this problem with Battle Cry. Hell, he was almost grateful for it. Almost. Still, if it wound up Battle Cry had developed a sterility condition, then he’d just swallow his pride and let the horse enjoy a real retirement. He doubted that Battle Cry could generate the same prestige and purses if he were put back into
racing. He’d just have to make more deals than Donald Trump to get back his investment.

It was just like Anne, though, to confess a “sin.” He had tried hard not to laugh. He doubted she would have appreciated it. He had so many things he needed to say to her, but now she needed comforting. And companionship. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted her to feel for him, but it would do very well for a beginning. “You’ve done a great job with Battle Cry—”

She interrupted him. “Someone else could do much better. If you want to move him to another farm, I’ll understand.”

“Battle Cry and I are happy right here,” he said firmly. “You’re a top breeder, Anne, with a top reputation.”

“Not for too much longer.” The break in her voice was clear.

He held her more tightly and said the words he prayed would come true. “Battle Cry will be fine, you’ll see.”

She didn’t answer, content just to be held. And he was quite willing to accommodate her. Minutes passed, and he wasn’t exactly sure when the comfort changed to something different. Maybe it was when she began absently toying with the buttons on his shirt. Maybe it was when she pressed her body more snugly to his.

Whatever, he was all too aware of her breasts teasing his chest, her hips aligned with his. One of his legs was almost trapped between her thighs as he kept himself braced to carry her slight weight. His hands were at her slender waist. All he had to do was smooth his fingers down a few inches and he would be cupping her derriere. It would just take one movement to lift her farther into him.
He told himself this was not the time to indulge primitive urges. Definitely not the time.

She looked up at him, and he was lost the moment he gazed into her blue-green eyes. He took her mouth fiercely, the kiss flaming to open passion in the blink of an eye. Her tongue swirled with his, fencing and teasing, and his blood flamed to a volcanic heat. Her immediate response surprised and delighted him. He lifted her to him, his hips crowding against hers. Her fingers dug into his shoulders almost painfully, not to force him away but to pull him closer. She wanted him just as she had the other night by the breeding shed. He’d be damned before he walked away from her again. Not this time …

This time, though, she was the one to break the embrace.

She pulled out of his arms and straightened. “I’m not one of your fluttering women, James, who collapses at your feet the moment you kiss them.”

He stared at her. “What fluttering women? What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” she said, waving a hand. “Don’t kiss me again, okay?”

“Why not?” he asked, knowing she was attempting to erect walls between them. That was another thing he wouldn’t allow to happen again. “Are you going to tell me you don’t like it?”

“I like it too well,” she said honestly. “That’s the problem.”

“Not from my side of it.”

“James, I have a policy of not involving myself personally with my owners.”

“You’re about to make an exception.”

“No, I’m not. And I have a child’s feelings to consider. I won’t ‘indulge’ myself at his expense.”

“Anne.” He took her arm as she began to walk around him toward the front door.

She shook him off. “I’ll call you when I get Battle Cry’s test results.”

As she left the room, he decided he might have a few more obstacles with her than he’d first thought. Still, the thaw was on. All he needed now was a plan.

He was still staring at the open door when Lettice appeared.

“My granddaughter is stomping through the house again. It’s nice to see her back to normal.” She smiled when he laughed. “I’m glad you’re back, James.”

“So am I.” He walked over to Lettice and took her arm to escort her from the room. “I suppose I should go see that trouble-making horse of mine.”

“Did Anne remember her manners for once and ask you to stay for dinner?”

James grinned. “She was … busy.”

Lettice’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Doing what?”

“Kissing me.”

Lettice smiled, and James realized he had an ally in Anne’s grandmother. Somehow that didn’t surprise him. He remembered years before their families used to joke about him and Anne. No joke now, he thought.

“Ahh. Then I take it you’ll stay for dinner?” Lettice asked.

“Oh, absolutely.”

He had a feeling Anne wasn’t going to like it. But she better get used to it. He planned to be around a long time.

All he had to do was convince her of that.

•    •    •

Anne wasn’t pleased to see him at the dinner table that evening, but he figured it was a major step in the right direction when she didn’t get up and walk out.

In fact, she was almost congenial by the time they reached the lemon sponge cake. But the way she glanced at him with such wariness, or the frown that appeared whenever he talked to Philip, told him things wouldn’t be as easy as he might hope. And truthfully, he wasn’t quite ready to tell her
all
about himself.

Taking things slow seemed to be the best way to deal with Anne. He’d have to control his reaction to her. The thought was depressing. Still, restraint made sense only until they’d worked through these little bumps.

“I have to go out again,” she announced, pushing her barely touched dessert away. “I want to che—make sure everything’s secure for the night.”

Philip nodded, unconcerned, while Lettice frowned at her. James smiled nonchalantly. Anne would have an escort, he decided. A very platonic escort this time, but one just the same.

The telephone rang, and she got up to answer it. To James’s surprise, Lettice turned her frown on him. He had no idea what he’d done to displease her, but pushed it out of his mind when he heard Anne say the word
test
His stomach crawled as he leaned forward in anticipation.

“You’re sure?” she asked grimly. “I see. Thank you for calling me directly. I really appreciate it.”

She said good-bye and hung up the phone. Her expression was angrier than he had ever seen before.

“What?” he asked. “Did they find the problem with Battle Cry?”

“They found it all right.” She was silent for a long moment, as if controlling herself. “It seems someone has been systematically feeding him steroids.”

“Steroids?”

She nodded. “They build muscles and give an animal a super-healthy look. They can also make a stallion sterile very quickly. That’s one of the side effects. One of the gentler,
temporary
ones.”

“I take it steroids are not on the vitamin and feed schedule,” James said, anger coursing through him as the implications sank in.

Anne smiled bitterly. “They are not.”

Somebody wanted to ruin Battle Cry, he thought. And Anne.

He had no idea why, but he vowed that somebody was going to pay. He’d make sure of it.

“Somebody’s tryin’ to ruin my boy. Why? Why?”

Anne almost cringed at Mac’s words. They were a lament that had run through her head over and over.

“We don’t know why,” James said gently.

Anne glanced at James, grateful for his presence this morning. She hadn’t been looking forward to telling the old man about the horse. The vet had just left after examining Battle Cry again, and Mac had been asking questions, questions she had to face answering.

Battle Cry’s sterility
was
temporary, thank goodness. She was damn glad James wasn’t blaming her. Another owner would have, she knew.

“ ’Tis a jealousy,” Mac said darkly. “There are those who are jealous of a horse like that.”

She bristled. “Are you suggesting someone on this farm would do such a thing?”

Mack gave her a blank look, then shook his head. “You’ve got good people, miss. I’ve seen that myself. But I should have taken better care of my
boy. Everybody’s had a carrot or a sugar cube for him. Other owners, their guests, even delivery men. All of them wanted a look-see at him, and I, in my pride, let everybody close.”

Guilt assailed her.
She
was the one who should have been more careful with Battle Cry and beefed-up her security measures. But who would bother with a horse put out to stud? It was the fabulous racing purses that attracted sabotage.

She laid her hand on Mac’s arm. “This was my fault, not yours—”

“Yes, it is,” Mac said, pulling his arm away. “This is a shoddy—”

“That’s enough!” James snapped, glaring at his employee.

Mac hung his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Anne. I’m just that upset over my boy.”

She forced away any anger toward the man. “I understand, Mac. Believe me, I understand.” She turned to look at Battle Cry grazing contentedly in the pasture. “The steroids should leech out of him very quickly, fortunately. But it explains why he’s been almost jumping out of his skin lately. I wish I knew how he was getting the drugs.”

“If we knew how, then we’d know who,” James said.

Anne heard the emphasized pronoun
we
, and both pleasure and resentment ran through her. She couldn’t help feeling James was being too nice about this. Her confusion about him was mounting—as was her desire. She was afraid she was already in the throes of a crush. Again.

Returning her attention to the problem of Battle Cry, she said, “Curtis and I have talked it over, and nobody, Mac, is allowed near him, especially to give him treats. Curtis will be the one to mix
his feed and bring it to him. No one else. Battle Cry’s to stay in the pasture next to the barn, where he’s visible at all times. The only owner allowed down here is James. No guests, no delivery men. The other stallions will be brought down to the house should their owners visit. They won’t like it, but that’s too bad. If anyone asks, say we just want to give Battle Cry some peace to adjust to his new life. I know I’m closing the barn door after the fact, but it’s the best I can do. At least it’ll keep Battle Cry from getting more steroids.”