DRIVEN

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Lori Sjoberg

Copyright © 2016 by Lori Sjoberg

Lori Sjoberg (2016-04-14). Driven: Southern Alphas ~ Book One

First Electronic Edition: April 2016

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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This is a work of fiction. To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

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First Electronic Edition: April 2016

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Contents

Driven

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

More books by Lori Sjoberg:

Chapter One

MASON FALCO DROVE down the rutted dirt road, cringing every time his sleek Maserati ran over a water-filled pothole.

Normally, he wouldn’t dare take his car on a street in such terrible condition, but it was the only way to reach the Whispering Oaks Equestrian Farm. His attorneys had been trying to get in touch with the owner for weeks, and he’d finally decided to take matters into his own hands and contact the woman himself.

Open fields banked each side of the tree-lined road, with one side sectioned off into what he assumed were paddocks for horses. The Phillips family had owned the property for close to a century, one of the last farms of its kind in the area. All of the other landowners sold out long ago, accepting generous cash payoffs in exchange for the deeds to their properties. Only one remained, and he couldn’t move forward with his development plans until he secured the forty-five acres currently deeded to Kayla Marie Phillips.

He’d skimmed over her profile before he left his office in downtown Orlando. Single white female. Age twenty-nine. She looked petite in the picture provided by his staff, with long brown hair and delicate features. Before she’d taken over the family business, she’d been a competitive show jumper. One of the articles he’d read listed her as an Olympic hopeful, but that was almost a decade ago and he saw no other mentions.

Probably couldn’t make the cut, he mused. So many people gave up when the going got tough, and he held no respect for quitters. He took pride in the knowledge that he’d clawed his way from nothing to the top of his field. At thirty-two, he’d yet to reach his peak, turning rundown properties into multimillion dollar ventures across the globe. He’d never been on the losing end of a deal, and he wasn’t about to let Ms. Phillips break his streak.

Gradually, the road curved to the right and the gates of the farm came into view. It wasn’t fancy by any means, just a simple wrought-iron gate that slowly swung open when his car tripped the motion sensors. The Maserati hit yet another pothole, this one filled with enough muddy water to splash the front quarter panel of his car. Once through the gate, he swung into a spot in front of what he assumed was the stable.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, he was hit with a blast of heat and humidity. Not surprising for Florida in July. Sweat formed on his brow as he rolled up his shirtsleeves and strode toward the entrance to the building. A handwritten note taped to the door warned visitors to watch out for the kittens in the tack room. He opened the door, and sure enough, two pure black kittens made a dash for freedom. Though he caught one, its littermate slipped between his feet and darted outside.

He swore under his breath. The last thing he needed was a deal going south because he lost one of the owner’s kittens. Grumbling, he stomped back outside in search of the runt. It took nearly ten minutes to corner the little beast and grab it by the scruff of its neck.

He ignored the kitten’s meows of protest as he carried it back to the tack room. This time, he carefully opened the door and nudged back its playmate with his shoe before he entered. But instead of backing off, the kitten climbed up his leg. Its tiny sharp claws pierced the fabric of his dress pants and dug into his skin. Biting back a curse, he set the first kitten on the ground, peeled the other off his leg, and placed it on one of the trunks that lined the front wall.

The room was no larger than ten by twenty feet and smelled strongly of oil and leather. The far wall was lined with four rows of large wooden pegs that held at least two dozen saddles. On the opposite wall, hooks held bridles and long strips of what looked like heavy cotton with metal buckles on each end. Pictures adorned the space above the pegs, mostly of riders on their horses.

Mason stepped closer and studied each picture until he found one with what appeared to be a young Kayla Phillips. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. The young woman rode a huge brown horse, her body perched slightly above the saddle as her mount leaped over an obstacle built to resemble a red brick wall. The planes of her face were etched tight with concentration, and he admired her competitive spirit.

Had her fire burned out, or was she still as iron-willed as she was when the photograph was taken? There was only one way to find out. Careful not to let the kittens escape, he slipped out the door at the other side of the room that led into the stable.

Two giant fans blew air around the building but did little to make the heat more tolerable. Mason paused for a moment; his gaze took in the rows of stalls that lined each side of the building. Half of them were empty, which made sense, considering the number of horses he’d seen grazing in the paddocks. To his right, a guy in his late teens pushed a wheelbarrow filled with pine shavings down the walkway between stalls, and Mason strode in his direction.

“Excuse me,” he said, and the kid skidded to a halt.

The teen’s eyes narrowed as he took in Mason’s appearance. Obviously, they didn’t have many business types running around the farm. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Kayla Phillips. Do you know where I can find her?”

Hands full, the kid jerked his head to the left. “She’s out in the arena with a student.”

Before Mason had the chance to say thank you, the kid ambled off in the opposite direction and disappeared into one of the stalls.

Whatever. Her employee wasn’t his problem. With renewed determination, he strode down the length of the stable. When he reached the end, the riding arena came into view. It was far from impressive: just a large, fenced-in area of dirt with a dozen or so obstacles scattered about. A teenage girl rode a dappled horse around the perimeter, and in the center stood a woman he presumed to be Kayla Phillips.

She was shorter than he expected, no more than five two, with the kind of body that made a man want to settle in and stay for a while. The faded jeans she wore clung to her curves, as did her simple white T-shirt. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a braid and hung halfway down her back. Toned, tanned arms hinted at the hard work she put in to keep the farm afloat.

A floppy straw hat and sunglasses obscured her face as she barked out commands like a drill sergeant. “Shoulders back, Courtney! Keep your chin up!”

Immediately, the girl followed Kayla’s instructions as the horse continued to trot.

“Looking good, looking good. Okay, I want to see you take the outside line, cut left to the red gate, and then circle around to the opposite line. Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Kayla.” The girl kicked her heels into the horse’s side, and the animal shot into a canter. It rounded the curve, gathering speed before it cleared one jump and then another. The girl said something he couldn’t make out as she steered the horse to the left and over what he assumed was the red gate. Then it was off to the opposite side of the ring, where she guided the beast over two more jumps before slowing its pace to a walk.

“Great job!” Kayla clapped enthusiastically. “Let him walk for a bit and then bring him in for a wash-down.”

She turned away from the girl and strode toward the stables, and when she pulled off her hat and sunglasses, it finally gave him the chance to get a good view of her face.

The picture didn’t do her justice. She was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and full, lush lips. Kissable lips. Her deep-brown eyes sparked with intelligence as she walked in his direction. When she drew close, she looked him over, and confusion crinkled her forehead.

“Something I can help you with?” Now that she wasn’t shouting commands, her voice carried a husky Southern accent.

“I hope so.” He flashed her the smile he always used when warming up difficult clients. “I’m Mason Falco of—”

“Falco Enterprises,” she finished for him, not shaking the hand he offered. The planes of her face sharpened with irritation as she cocked one hand on her hip. “You wasted your time coming out here. I’m not selling.” In obvious dismissal, she turned on her heel and headed toward the stable.

Stubborn woman. He took off after her, catching up at the entrance, and fell in line with her long, quick strides. “You haven’t even heard my latest offer.”

“Don’t care. I’m still not selling.” She hung the straw hat on a hook as she passed and walked into a small room that housed a washing machine, dryer, and stacks of supplies. A bathroom was off to the right and she stepped in, leaving the door wide open.

Mason followed her into the supply room, stopping short at the entrance to the bathroom. She paid him no mind while she washed her hands, and his temper simmered beneath the surface.

“The offer would make you a rich woman. You’d never have to work another day in your life.”

Farm life wasn’t easy; he knew that much. County records showed her being late with the property taxes for the last two years in a row. She didn’t strike him as the type to dodge her responsibilities, leading him to believe she suffered from a serious cash flow problem.

After turning off the spigot, she grabbed a towel to dry her hands and wipe the sweat from her brow. Her skin was flushed from the summer heat, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She peered up, and those beautiful brown eyes locked with his.

“In that case, why are you still working, Mr. Falco? Last time I heard, you were worth over a billion.”

Score one for the horse whisperer. “One point one eight, if you want to be exact.” And damn proud of it. He’d clawed his way from nothing to the top through hard work, good instincts, and sheer determination.

“I stand corrected,” she said, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

Feisty little thing, wasn’t she? He liked that in a woman. Not to mention he’d always enjoyed a good challenge, and this was shaping up to be one of them. “I like what I do, Ms. Phillips. It’s what makes me successful. You, on the other hand, have been struggling for years to keep this farm in the black. Why continue to scrape by when you don’t have to?”

She frowned, and the lines between her eyes deepened. “My business is my business, Mr. Falco. It may not rake in millions of dollars, but I sleep well at night after an honest day’s work. Do you?”

Now it was his turn to scowl. How dare she make that kind of insinuation? Sure, he could be ruthless when the situation called for it, but business was business, and he’d never done anything illegal. “Of course.”

“Figures.” She smirked. “Your type usually does.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets so she wouldn’t see them balled into fists. In less than five minutes, the woman had managed to push every one of his buttons. Part of him wanted to kiss her senseless while the other part wanted to take her over his knee. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart man. I’m sure you can figure it out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a business to run.”

And with that, she turned her back to him and walked out of the room. She strode over to the girl who was busy at work removing the saddle from the horse she’d been riding.

This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Mason fumed as he exited the building and stalked to his car. While he was gone, a bird had shit on the windshield, making his visit complete. He turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life, and he slowly eased the vehicle out of the spot while he watched for more potholes. He’d go back to his office to refocus and regroup, and then he’d plan his next move.

*

KAYLA WATCHED AS Falco’s sporty red car rolled down the narrow dirt road and chuckled under her breath every time it ran over a pothole. It served him right for trying to talk her into selling her home. The farm meant everything to her, and before he’d died, she’d promised her grandfather that she’d do everything in her power to keep the property in the family.

Her younger sister Louise walked up alongside her and leaned against the doorway. “Was that who I thought it was?”

“Yep. Pompous ass.” Although she had to admit, he was easy on the eyes. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome, the man looked as if he was better suited for a magazine cover than a boardroom. But then he’d opened his mouth, and she’d recognized the predator that lurked beneath the surface. Now that she knew, she’d never forget it. He was the kind of guy who’d use any means at his disposal, and that included the fine art of sweet-talking.

Kayla slanted a glance in her sister’s direction. “How’d you get so dirty?”

“Echo threw me.” She said it casually, as if getting tossed from a horse was an everyday occurrence. Well, actually, it was for her. Over the years, she’d built a reputation for being able to train even the most ill-mannered horse. The woman was absolutely fearless, but one of these days it was going to rear up and bite her right on the butt. She brushed at the dirt that stained the side of her jeans. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“This time. You’ve got to be more careful. Please tell me you were wearing a helmet.” If the answer was no, she was stapling the damn thing to Louise’s head. She, of all people, should know better. It was hard to enforce the helmet rule when the owner’s sister broke it on a daily basis. Not to mention the insurance company had been adamant about it when she renewed the liability policy for the farm. Any infractions and their coverage was toast.

“Of course I wore it, after the hissy fit you threw last time.”

Well, at least that was one less thing to worry about. “Thank you.”

“So how much did he offer this time?” Louise pulled out the elastic band that held her long blonde hair in a ponytail. “It must have been a lot if he came all the way out here to present it.”

“I don’t know.” Kayla shrugged. “I cut him off before he started talking figures.”

Louise’s blue eyes got all big and wide. “Are you crazy? The last offer was for over four million.”

Four million two hundred thousand, to be exact. She had to admit, when she first read the proposal, she’d been tempted by the sheer number of zeroes. But then she’d done the math and the offer lost a lot of its appeal. Taxes and the outstanding mortgage balance would eat over a million dollars of the proceeds. Then there was the cost of purchasing a suitable property to relocate the farm, one large enough, dry enough, and zoned for agricultural purposes. The closest one she’d found was located in Chuluota, and it came with a price tag of a million three. And when she factored in the cost of building the house, stable, equipment shed, arena, paddocks, and pastures to the required county codes and specifications, they’d be left with just under a million dollars to live on while they rebuilt their clientele. Which sounded like a lot, but with little or no money coming in, the monthly expenses would eat it up in no time.

Besides, this was their home, and she refused to be bought. Four generations had lived and worked on the farm, and she’d promised her grandfather that she’d keep the tradition alive. Everywhere she looked, she saw a part of her family’s history, of what shaped her into who she was. And when the mortgage refinancing finally went through, they’d have a little wiggle room in the budget.

As she turned her gaze away from the road, she took in the paddocks on the other side of the arena, each one occupied by one or two horses. Altogether, there were thirty-four horses on the farm. Nineteen she owned, and the rest of them were boarded by people who either didn’t have enough room for a horse on their property or their land wasn’t zone for large animals. The rental income was enough to pay the mortgage and insurance, leaving her to scrape and scrounge for the funds necessary to cover the other expenses.

Like taxes. Electric. Feed and vet bills. Not to mention water, gas, wages, and food. Stud fees covered some of the expenses, while Louise trained horses and Kayla gave riding lessons to boost the bottom line. Even then, it sometimes wasn’t enough to make ends meet. To cover the difference, Kayla tended bar three or four nights a week at one of the clubs downtown.

“Excuse me, Kayla?” It was Ashley, one of the interns from the university’s pre-veterinary club. Each semester, two students worked ten hours a week at the farm in exchange for three credit hours. The first couple of weeks ate a lot of Kayla’s time, but after that the kids were worth the investment. The students gained valuable experience they could put on their applications for vet school, and in exchange the farm got free labor. Which was great, because good farmhands were hard to find; it was tough, physical work, and a lot of folks didn’t want to get their hands dirty.

Kayla turned, and the look on the girl’s face made her nervous. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“It’s Harlan. He won’t let me in his stall.”

Kayla let out a mental sigh of relief. Harlan was her prize stallion. With his champion bloodlines and award-winning offspring, he was by far the farm’s most valuable asset. Last year alone he brought in almost three quarters of the farm’s stud fees, and this year looked to be about the same. But the stallion could be a bit temperamental, and when he got into one of his moods, she and Louise were the only ones who could handle him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she told the intern. “Is his feed bucket outside the stall?”

The young woman nodded, and her purple-tipped bangs fell over one of her eyebrows. “Every time I get close, he slams against the gate.”

Typical. For a horse, he could really be a jerk. “I’ll take care of it. Louise, is there anything else you need Ashley to do before she leaves for the day?”

Louise met her gaze for a long moment before she focused her attention on Ashley. “Yeah, why don’t you come along with me? I was about to put a shoe back on Zenith.”

The pair took off toward Zenith’s stall, leaving Kayla free to deal with Harlan. She boarded him at the end of the stable, with a Friesian gelding in the adjacent stall that seemed to keep the stallion calm. As she drew close, she heard him pawing the ground and letting out snorts of impatience.

“Hungry, are you? Well, it serves you right for being such a butthead to Ashley.”

She picked up the bucket and approached the stall. The stallion stopped pawing when he caught a whiff of the food, letting out a soft snuffle as he backed up far enough to let her inside. She threw back the bolt and slid the door open.

God, he was beautiful, all eleven hundred pounds of him. He was tall, a hair under seventeen hands, with a coat the color of rich mahogany. He hadn’t competitively jumped in almost nine years, but she kept him in excellent condition. At least four times a week, after the stable hands left, she tacked him up and gave him a workout in the arena. He still jumped like a champion, attacking each line with the same level of energy and enthusiasm as he did during his first year on the circuit.

Harlan nudged her with his big head, his teeth playing with the bottom hem of her shirt.

“Knock it off.” She gave his head a playful shove. Undeterred, the stallion nudged her again, impatient for his late afternoon meal. She placed the bucket a few feet away from his water. A smile warmed her face as he bolted down his food as though he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Greedy bugger.” She ran a hand over his big, powerful body, and his muscles rippled beneath her fingers. He got two meals a day, a roof over his head, and he earned his keep by playing stud for some of the premier thoroughbred mares in the area. Considering how most other horses spent their days, he’d certainly hit the jackpot.

But breeding fees alone couldn’t keep the farm in the black. She’d have to either increase the stud fees for Harlan or sell at least two of the colts. She planned on saddle training Dusty in a week or two, but Jigsaw and Prescott probably wouldn’t be ready for at least another six months. If she trained them well, she could fetch a higher price when she put them on the market.

She exited the stall and slid the door shut behind her, making sure the bolt was securely in place before she left the building. One of the stable cats brushed against her leg, and she bent down to give it a quick pet. Every muscle in her body ached with fatigue, and no wonder: she’d been at it since a little before sunrise. But now that every horse was fed, watered, and safe in their stalls, she could finally go to the house, shower the sweat and dirt from her body, and eat dinner. Then it was off to her second job tending bar, where she’d put in a five-hour shift before she returned home and crawled into bed.

As she locked up the stable, thoughts of Mason Falco crept back into her head. She scowled. It amazed her, how such a handsome man could be such a pompous ass. Really, it shouldn’t surprise her. Over the years, she’d run into his type plenty of times. Hell, she’d even dated one, and what a mistake that had been.

The crack about her business ability stung, most likely because it was true. Try as she might, she never managed to get ahead. It seemed like every time she got her head above water, the well pump broke, or one of the horses got sick, or something else happened to suck all of the money from her bank account. There were days when it all wore her down to the bone, and sometimes she wondered whether she’d ever get the farm back to the level it was before her accident.

As she stood on the porch, she stared out at the property and resolved herself to find a way. Come hell or high water, she’d make it work. She shoved the worries aside as she strode into the house, pulling her boots off in the mudroom before washing her hands in the kitchen sink. She’d figure a way to make the farm profitable again if it was the last thing she ever did.

Chapter Two

STILL FUMING, MASON rode the glass elevator to the twenty-second floor of the Falco Building.

The nerve of that woman. He bristled at the memory of being dismissed like some sort of flunky. He’d put months of hard work and a small fortune into this project, and she was sadly mistaken if she thought he’d give up so easily.

Stepping out of the elevator, Mason stalked down the long corridor that led to his corner office. One of the CPAs from accounting strode past, and he wiped the anger from his face long enough to give her a cordial greeting in passing. A sharp left at the end of the hall, and the glossy black desk where his assistant worked came into view. He gave a quick nod to the ever-pleasant Ms. Booth, and she offered a warm smile in return.

“Hold my calls,” he told her before he walked into his office and closed the door behind him.

Much to his chagrin, his younger brother was waiting for him inside.

“Turned you down cold, didn’t she?” Shane had a shit-eating grin on his face. He looked totally at ease, with his feet propped up on the corner of Mason’s desk and his long legs crossed at the ankles. And why shouldn’t he? He wasn’t the one busting his balls to put the finishing touches on a hundred-plus million-dollar project.

Mason shot his brother a withering glare. He wasn’t in the mood for this shit. As he moved past, he shoved Shane’s feet off his desk. “I want to know everything about her. Everything. Friends, family, what she eats, where she sleeps, who she fucks.”

“I already sent you the report.”

“When?”

“About an hour ago.” Shane’s grin widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I told you she was going to shoot you down.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I was right, wasn’t I? It’s what I get paid the big bucks for.”

His brother barked out a laugh when Mason made a rude gesture with his middle finger. Without a doubt, Shane Falco was the best intelligence gatherer in the business, and he made damn sure everybody knew it. Once, on a bet, the cocky bastard hacked into the server of the Chinese military.

Shane leaned back against his chair and crossed his hands behind his head. “If you want to know anything that’s not in the report, let me know. And to answer one of your questions, she isn’t fucking anyone at the moment.”

Mason snorted. “That explains a lot.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to fall back on the frigid bitch defense.”

“No, I don’t think she’s frigid at all.” Quite the contrary. He’d seen fire in her eyes. Real fire. And the lucky bastard who tapped into that was in for one hell of a ride. In spite of his anger, there was something about Kayla Phillips that caught and held his interest. Maybe, after he talked her into selling the farm, he’d find a way to talk her into his bed. He couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate the completion of his largest project to date.

Mason settled into his black leather chair and powered up his tablet. Sure enough, Shane’s email was waiting in his Inbox. “Any word on the zoning changes?”

“The motion passed last night, seven to two.”

“Excellent.” He’d have to thank Ethan and his legal staff for navigating the miles of red tape needed to amend the zoning laws in the area to include large-scale residential housing and commercial development. Now the only thing standing in their way was a certain stubborn brunette.

*****

ONCE HE FINISHED his work at the office, Mason rode the elevator up to his penthouse suite and pored over the details of Kayla Phillips’s life.

It never ceased to amaze him how much information Shane was capable of collecting in such a short period of time. He’d uncovered everything from the grades she received in high school to how much income the farm produced last quarter. She was walking the razor’s edge of liquidity, using her additional income from tending bar to keep the business afloat.

It didn’t make sense to him. Why bother, when she could be financially independent with the simple stroke of a pen?

Must be some kind of family thing, he decided, something he had a difficult time relating to considering he and his brother had spent most of their childhoods in foster homes. The farm dated back four generations, when Alfred Phillips and his wife, Emily, purchased the property from the state of Florida. Kayla’s parents had died in an auto accident when she was fourteen, forcing the ownership of the property to skip a generation, going directly from her grandfather, Matthew Phillips, to Kayla, the oldest grandchild. There were two younger siblings: Carter, age twenty-five and currently serving his third tour of duty in Afghanistan, and Louise, age twenty-three, still working at the farm while taking pre-veterinary classes at the University of Central Florida.

With a stifled yawn, Mason leaned back in his recliner and rubbed his tired eyes. There had to be a way of convincing her to sell, but how? If money were a factor, she would have signed weeks ago, so he needed to find a different angle. Perhaps he could tap into her sense of responsibility. Yeah, that might work. Stress the benefits the money could bring to both her and her siblings. Vet school cost a small fortune these days, and her brother would probably need help acclimating to civilian life once he left the Marines.

After scrolling back a few pages in the report, he switched on his phone and dialed.

“Yes, I’m hoping you can help me,” he said when a young woman answered his call. “Is Kayla Phillips working tonight? She is? Excellent. Thank you very much.”

A sly smile crept over his face once he disconnected. No time like the present, he thought as he headed toward his bedroom to change.

*****

FOR A THURSDAY night, the Ancient Mariner was busy, with nearly every table filled and half of the seats taken at the bar. Kayla prepared four Jägerbombs for table five, her body working on autopilot while her brain worked overtime.

“I’m sorry, but your loan-to-value exceeds the maximum amount allowed for this type of financing.”

The mortgage broker’s words replayed in her brain for what had to be the millionth time. She’d gotten the bad news about an hour after she’d sent Mason Falco packing. The refinancing of her mortgage at a lower interest rate would have saved her over five hundred dollars a month. Without it, she was officially screwed. Not now, and maybe not for another few months, but it was only a matter of time before she ran out of funds and foreclosure claimed the farm.

Which left her with only one option: suck it up and accept Falco’s offer. The thought left an awful taste in her mouth, but it beat losing the farm altogether and getting absolutely nothing in return. At least this way, she’d have enough money to start over someplace else. She’d call him tomorrow, after she’d mustered the mental fortitude to go through with the sale.

As she pushed the unpleasant reality from her mind, she turned her attention to the two young guys who’d just stepped up to the bar. To her, they barely looked old enough to drive, but the bouncer carded everyone at the door, so she knew they had to be at least twenty-one.

She projected her voice to be heard over the bar chatter. “What can I get you boys tonight?”

“Two Hopsecutioners,” the taller one said.

“You got it.” She ignored their leers as she poured from the tap. If she had her way, she’d wear a regular shirt instead of the deep v-neck that was part of the bar’s uniform. On the bright side, at least she got to wear pants instead of the shiny short shorts that were mandatory for the waitresses.

Finished, she set the pint glasses on coasters and rang up the sale, stuffing the two-dollar tip into the jar by the lemon slices. So far, she’d made about thirty bucks in tips, and with the evening crowd just starting to shuffle in, she might clear a hundred by the time her shift was over.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a new customer approach the bar. She turned, and her breath caught in her throat when she recognized the man. Mason Falco. He appeared much more relaxed than the last time she saw him. Black jeans hugged him in all the right places and a red Henley shirt had the sleeves pushed up past his elbows. He claimed an empty stool by the taps and leaned his forearms against the polished wood.

Why was he here? Had he heard about the loan? It wouldn’t surprise her. Knowledge was power, and he struck her as the kind of guy who wielded it like a club. No matter the reason, it annoyed her that he had the nerve to harass her at work.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tightly clipped.

He had the gall to act surprised. “Why, Ms. Phillips, I didn’t know you worked here.”

She rolled her eyes so far back in her head it was a wonder she didn’t see her own brain. “Seriously? You want me to believe this is a coincidence?”

“You’re free to believe whatever you want.” His gaze raked over her, lingering at the tops of her breasts before moving back up to her eyes. “Nice uniform.”

She shot him a look of disdain. Just because she was going to sell him the farm didn’t mean she had to put up with his crap.

One of the waitresses, Dana, leaned up against the bar and rattled off a long list of drinks. Kayla got busy, grabbing glasses, mixing cocktails, and drawing several beers from the taps. Once she finished, she set all of the drinks on the tray, and Dana uttered a quick “thanks” before scurrying off to deliver the order.

“Is there something I can get you?” Kayla asked Mason once the waitress was gone. “Or were you just planning to loiter?”

The arrogant bastard had the nerve to act amused. “How’s the Blackwater Stout?”

“It’s one of my best sellers.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Is it any good?”

She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t drink stouts, so I can’t give you my personal opinion. For what it’s worth, my regulars seem to like it quite a bit.”

He arched one eyebrow. “And what do you like?”

“IPAs.”

He tipped his head up in acknowledgment. “Ah. A hophead.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. I enjoy a good IPA as much as the next guy. But tonight I’m in the mood for a stout, so let’s give the Blackwater a try.”

“You got it.” She grabbed a pint glass and poured his beer from the tap, pausing for a few moments until the foam settled. While she waited, she slanted a glance in Falco’s direction, and her pulse kicked up a notch. Nope, not going there. She gave a firm mental shake of her head. It was bad enough she had to sell the farm to this asshole. She refused to demean herself any further by becoming a notch on his bedpost.

“Thanks,” he said when she set the glass in front of him. After he paid, he took a sip and nodded in approval. “This is good. So how long have you worked here?”

“Two years, give or take. But I’m sure you knew that already.” Impatient and edgy, she flipped the bar towel over her shoulder. “As you can see, I’m kind of busy, so could you do me a favor and cut to the chase? Why are you here and what do you want?”

A wicked grin curved his full lips. While he watched her over the rim of his glass, he took another swig of his beer. “Very well. I want you to reconsider my offer. It doesn’t make sense for you to work yourself to death when it isn’t necessary.”

If he was asking her to reconsider, then he hadn’t caught wind of the loan rejection. It wasn’t much, but at this point she’d take her victories any which way she could get them. “Has it ever occurred to you that I like my life the way it is?”

“Doing this?” His upper lip peeled back. “You can’t be serious.”

The flippant tone in his voice raised her hackles. “Where I work or how I live is none of your damn business.”

“It is when you’re holding up a project that affects the lives of thousands of people.”

She huffed. “Give me a break. The only thing you care about is your bottom line.”

A man approached the bar and ordered a Jack and Coke, flirting with Kayla while she mixed his drink and gave him change for a twenty. He gave her five bucks for a tip, along with his business card, and she stuffed both into the jar.

“Look, the offer is well above the fair market value,” Mason said as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “Imagine how much you could help your family with that money. And you’d still have enough left over to buy another farm. You could spend every day playing with your ponies instead of working a job like this.”

“Playing with my ponies?” Okay, that one pissed her off. “It takes a lot of work to keep up with my ponies. Real work. Honest work.” She looked him up and down in a way that was meant to be dismissive. Judging by his appearance, he knew his way around an air-conditioned gym. Hell, he probably even had a personal trainer. But working all day in the blazing Florida sun was a whole other animal entirely. “I doubt a pretty boy like you could handle getting dirt under your nails.”

He laughed, which pissed her off even more. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Another waitress came up to the bar, and Kayla broke off from their conversation long enough to put together another drink order: two hurricanes, a bucket of Bud Lights, and three shots of tequila.

Once the waitress hurried off with her drinks, Kayla flashed Mason a saccharine smile. “I didn’t say you were afraid of hard work. I said you couldn’t handle it. Big difference.”

There, that wiped the smirk off his face.

He tossed back the last of his stout and set the empty pint glass on the bar with a thump. “I can take anything you throw my way, princess.”

She scoffed. “You wouldn’t last a day.”

Clearly agitated, Mason propped his forearms against the bar and leaned forward. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

She arched one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll bet I could handle a day—no, let’s make it a week for good measure—working on your pretty little farm. Make me do every menial job you can imagine. I’m a big boy; I can take it. And if I win, you’ll agree to sell your property to Falco Enterprises per the terms of the most recent proposal.”

Considering her dire financial position, selling the farm was a foregone conclusion. But she didn’t see the point of grinding him into the ground unless she got something out of it. “When you lose, what’s in it for me?”

He hesitated, as if thinking it over. “If I lose, I’ll abandon all plans for the development. Better yet, I’ll also pay off your mortgage.”

Was he serious? It sounded too good to be true. For the first time in months, she felt a sliver of hope, and she fought hard to conceal her excitement.

“Yes or no, princess? Do we have a bet, or are you too afraid of losing?”

“Those are mighty high stakes,” she said at last. Normally, she wasn’t a betting woman. She’d never been to Vegas, never played a slot machine. Hell, she only bought Powerball tickets when the jackpot got ridiculously high. But the possibility of keeping the farm and getting the monster mortgage off her back was too enticing to pass up. “Make it two weeks, and you have yourself a bet.”

With a smile, Mason extended his right hand. “Deal. When do you want me to start?”

Chapter Three

THE NEXT MORNING, at the end of his meeting with Shane and Ethan in his office, Mason broke the news about his wager with Kayla. It went over as well as he’d expected.

“You did what?” Jaw dropped, Ethan leaned forward in his plush leather chair.

“You heard me,” Mason replied, as though this kind of wager was something he did all the time. “We made a bet on whether I could handle two weeks on her farm. If I win, she’ll sell us the property, and if she wins, I’ll abandon the project.” He omitted the part about paying off her mortgage. If he lost, those funds would come from his personal account, so they didn’t need to know that minor detail.

“That’s insane. And it might be illegal.” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, something he did whenever he got stressed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He hadn’t been, and that was the problem. Every time he came close to the woman, his hormones hijacked his brain. As he leaned back in his chair, Mason shrugged and slapped on his best poker face. “It just kind of happened. I tried talking some sense into her, but the woman’s too stubborn for her own good. She pushed my buttons, I pushed hers, and the next thing I knew I was throwing down the gauntlet.”

Shane shook his head while he tapped something into his tablet. “We can’t just abandon the project. Do you have any idea how much time and—”

“I know exactly what’s at stake.” And he had no intention of losing. His business partners, on the other hand, didn’t seem so confident in his abilities, and it royally pissed him off. After all these years, they should know better. “What, do you honestly think I’ll lose? It’s only a couple weeks on a damn horse farm. How hard can it possibly be?”

He’d spent a few hours last night rearranging his schedule to accommodate his time away from the office. Fortunately, a man in his position could dictate when, where, and how his business was conducted. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was only for two weeks, so he’d deal with the inconvenience of having to perform two jobs at once.

“Famous last words.” Shane blew out a frustrated breath as he dragged a hand through his short brown hair. He shifted in his chair, leaning toward Ethan, not bothering to lower his voice. “I bet he nails her before this is over.”

A slow grin formed on Ethan’s face, making him look more like a surfer boy than the cutthroat lawyer he really was. “You think?”

“She has ovaries and a pulse, doesn’t she?” Shane chuckled.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Mason said, sarcasm thick in his voice. Although it was true that he’d had his fair share of women over the years, he knew how to control his baser urges when business was on the line.

“Come on,” Shane said. “We know how you are. She’s an attractive woman. Don’t tell us the thought never crossed your mind.”

Mason opened his mouth to object but then closed it without saying a thing. Because the thought had certainly crossed his mind—repeatedly, and in great detail.

Ethan laughed and glanced over at Shane. “The usual amount?”

“Sure, why not?” Shane said as the two men stood and started toward the door. “Be ready to pay up in two weeks, if it even takes that long.”

“No bets,” Mason called out after them, but either they didn’t hear him or they simply ignored what he’d said. Ever since college, they’d been wagering on all kinds of crazy shit. Why should this be any different?

Because she was different, said the little voice inside his head. Ruthlessly, he brushed the thought aside and turned his attention to the day’s calendar. He’d take care of business, and then he’d take care of one Kayla Marie Phillips.

*****

ON THE OTHER side of town, Kayla was telling her sister about the wager while they hauled bales of hay out of the barn and onto a trailer hooked up to a small tractor. From there, they’d bring them into the stable and store them in the unoccupied stall.

As they hefted the last bale onto the trailer, Louise shook her head in disbelief. “At what point did this seem like a good idea?”

“Honestly, it never did.” Kayla wiped sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. Nine o’clock and temperatures were already in the mid-eighties, with the forecast high expected to reach ninety-six. If they didn’t get rain, she’d have no choice but to move her afternoon training sessions to early evening to avoid any of her students getting heatstroke. “He was acting so arrogant and condescending. It pissed me off. I called him on it, and the next thing I knew, I was telling him he couldn’t last a day on the farm, and it kind of went downhill from there.”

Louise pressed her lips together as they climbed onto the tractor. She twisted the key in the ignition and the engine reluctantly rumbled to life. “It’s not legally binding. You don’t have to go through with this, you know.”

“I know. But if we win, he’ll back off the development plans, and he’ll also pay off the mortgage. It’s our only chance at saving the farm.” If it weren’t for her riding accident, the farm wouldn’t be in debt to begin with. Insurance had covered only a portion of her medical bills and physical therapy. To pay for the rest, Grandpa had taken out the loan, using the farm as collateral.

The monthly payment was a huge money drain, and without it she could finally take care of some much-needed improvements, like new floor padding in all of the stalls and better insulation against bad weather. Not to mention, both the house and the stable would need new roofs soon, and the stove was starting to act funny.

And eventually, Louise would graduate and leave for vet school, forcing Kayla to hire a person or two to take up the slack. The looming reality never failed to make her stomach drop. She loved her sister, and even though she wanted Louise to chase after her dream, she’d miss having her around every day.

Louise drove the tractor into the stable and stopped in front of the unoccupied stall. After cutting the engine, she twisted in her seat to face Kayla. “Is it safe to assume there’s no talking you out of this?”

“Nope. Not a chance.”

“Shit.”

Kayla nudged her sister with her elbow. “Come on, you worry too much. A desk jockey like him won’t be able to handle such a physical job. I’d be surprised if he makes it more than three days before tucking his tail between his legs and slinking back to his cushy office.”

Her sister sighed. “When does this insanity start?”

“He’s bringing his things over Sunday night so he can start bright and early Monday morning.”

Kayla braced for her sister’s reaction. In hindsight, she realized she should have asked Louise first whether she was okay with Mason bunking at their home. Their grandfather used to offer room and board to the farmhands as part of their salaries, but after he died and Carter enlisted in the Marines, they’d put an end to the practice. Two women living alone couldn’t afford to let their guards down.

A pair of deep lines creased the space between Louise’s eyebrows. Her voice went up half an octave. “He’s staying at the house?”

Kayla inwardly cringed, but she refused to let it show. The last thing she needed was dissent from her sister, especially with this much at stake. “If he goes back to his cozy home at the end of the day, he’ll treat this like some kind of game. And if he does, he’ll hang on for the full two weeks, and then we’ll lose the farm.” She rubbed at the growing ache in her temples. Four aspirins hadn’t put a dent in her headache. “This is our only chance, Louise. I promised Grandpa that I’d keep it in the family, and I’m not about to break my word if I can help it. Don’t you want your children to grow up here like we did?”

Louise didn’t say anything right away. She stared straight ahead and chewed her bottom lip, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she asked, “So how are we going to win?”

Kayla blew out a sigh of relief. The weight on her chest lifted now that she knew her sister was on board. “That’s easy. We work him into the dirt.”

Chapter Four

DAYLIGHT WAS GIVING way to dusk when a sporty red Maserati pulled into the driveway in front of the farmhouse.

Kayla frowned. Part of her had been hoping Mason would show up late, or better yet, not show at all. But there he was, all six foot two inches of infuriating masculinity.

He climbed out of the car, dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt that stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. The trunk popped open, and when he bent down to reach inside, she noticed how well he filled out a pair of pants.

Boxers or briefs? She couldn’t help but wonder.

He pulled out one large suitcase, a garment bag, and what appeared to be a laptop briefcase. He slung the strap for the briefcase over his shoulder, closed the trunk, and started toward the house.

Louise stepped back from the window, her arms folded over her chest and a mulish expression plastered on her face. “If he kills us in our sleep, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Kayla scoffed. “Knock it off; he’s not going to murder us. Besides, if he does, he’s not getting the property. The will specifically states that if both of us are dead, everything goes directly to Carter.”

“You have a will?” Louise slanted a glance in her direction. “Since when?”

Since about two days after she’d agreed to the wager, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Okay, so she was also a little nervous about a stranger sleeping in their home. She honestly didn’t think he’d try to harm them, but it never hurt to be careful. And while she was in town, she’d also bought another box of ammo for the Winchester. If Mason Falco so much as laid a finger on either one of them, she’d pump his ass full of buckshot.

With a resigned exhale, Kayla opened the front door. Mason was halfway up the porch steps, his arms loaded with luggage. His eyes met hers, and he flashed her a smile so brazen and confident she nearly slammed the door in his face. But for the sake of civility, she opened the door a little wider and stepped back to give him room to enter.

“Good evening, Ms. Phillips.” After wiping his feet on the mat, Mason walked inside, and the spicy scent of his aftershave tickled her senses. His focus shifted from Kayla to Louise. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Louise cut him off. “You’re the rich guy who wants to turn our farm into a strip mall.” Ignoring his extended right hand, she gave him a smirk and a finger wave. “Nice to meet you. Stay out of my room.”

Kayla gawked at her sister. “Louise!”

Before Mason could say anything, Louise spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

Kayla considered apologizing for her sister’s behavior, but what was the point? It wasn’t like she wanted to be friends with the guy either.

Movement caught the corner of her eye, and she glanced to her right in time to see their dog running across the living room. The Great Dane-Mastiff mix bounded toward Mason, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he buried his nose in Falco’s crotch. A sharp, strangled noise erupted from Mason as he shifted his groin away from the canine’s cold, wet nose.

Fighting a laugh, Kayla grabbed the dog by the collar and dragged him back a couple of feet. The mutt outweighed her by a good sixty pounds, making him difficult to control when he got excited. “Knock it off, Spanky. Louise, will you call him?”

For once, her sister actually did what she asked, and the dog trotted into the kitchen.

Mason’s lips twitched with amusement. “Spanky?”

“My brother named him. He thought it was funny.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. It’s only for a few days, she repeated in her mind. Only a few days, and it’ll all be over with. He’ll be gone, the mortgage would be paid, and she’d be able to breathe a lot easier. “Follow me. I’ll show you where to put your stuff.”

With Mason’s footsteps close behind, she strode past the threadbare couch and the recliner that didn’t recline any longer. Past the kitchen, where Louise sat at the large wooden table their late father had built. Down the long, narrow hallway and its walls decorated with four generations of family pictures. She finally stopped at the end of the hall, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

“It’s not big, but it has a connecting bathroom with a shower stall.”

The room was small, with sage green walls and worn beige carpeting. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space, and there was a four-drawer dresser by the window. The room had been added to the back of the house right before Carter was born. Dad and Grandpa had done all of the work, toiling day and night to finish the addition before Mom went into labor.

It didn’t feel right, letting a stranger sleep in Carter’s bed, but where else was she supposed to put him? The spare room by the kitchen had been converted into an office, and the other open room was used for storage. What would her brother think of this situation? She hadn’t told him, and she’d made Louise promise not to tell him either. All his life, he’d been a bit of a hothead. The last thing he needed was more stress on top of his overseas deployment.

“This is fine.” Mason walked across the room and set his bags on the bed. His gaze wandered about the room before it settled on Kayla, and his eyes seemed to bore right through her. “Your sister doesn’t want me here.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”

He moved closer, less than a foot away, and suddenly the room felt way too small, the air too thick and heavy. Even with the frown on his face, the man was ridiculously handsome. And even though she despised him and everything he stood for, she felt the undeniable pull of attraction. It didn’t make sense, and she couldn’t explain it, but there was something about him that called out to her like a siren’s song. She’d sensed it the first time she laid eyes on him, but that didn’t mean she intended to act upon it. He was the enemy, plain and simple. And she’d never let herself forget it.

After coughing to clear her throat, she stepped back to put space between them. “Work starts at five tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to breakfast, but don’t expect anything fancy. And remember to wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

Chapter Five

KAYLA WOKE UP a little after four in the morning, shutting off the alarm a few minutes before it was set to buzz.

Thankfully, she hadn’t worked her second job the night before and had gone to bed around eight thirty. But she hadn’t slept well, probably because her brain wouldn’t stop dwelling on the man sleeping a few doors down the hall. Tired and grumpy, she flipped back the covers and got out of bed. No one else was awake and the house was silent, save for the sound of the air conditioner humming. Quickly, she dressed and braided her hair before padding down the long hallway to the kitchen.

After so many years of working on the farm, she had her morning routine down to a science. It allowed her to get as much sleep as possible and still be out the door before five. While the coffee brewed, she tugged on her boots and wolfed down a cinnamon bagel. When the pot was ready, she filled a tall travel mug and headed outside to start the day.

A three-quarter moon hung high in the sky and illuminated the dirt path between buildings. Stifling a yawn, Kayla unlocked the stable door. Years ago they hadn’t bothered with a lock, but all that changed when they caught a group of teenagers drinking beer and smoking pot in one of the stalls.

The wheels squeaked as she rolled back the door and stepped inside. She flipped the switch, and her eyes squinted against the sudden glare of the overhead lights. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour or so, but there were too many things that needed to be done to wait around for Mother Nature.

Like turn out the horses, muck the stalls, feed and water the animals, grade the arena, repair two of the roll top fences, and give lessons to three of her students. She also needed to keep a close eye on Ginger, the pregnant mare, and administer the annual vaccinations to all of the other horses. The medication had arrived late Saturday afternoon but she’d been too busy with lessons to fit it into her schedule. Doing the injections herself instead of having the vet make a house call saved the farm a good chunk of money. Once she finished the morning chores, she’d call Louise over to keep each horse steady while she administered the shots. If she worked quickly enough, she could get them all done before lunch.

Her boot steps echoed against the walls of the building when she entered. The smells of horses and wood shavings lingered in the air, and she breathed deeply, drawing the scent into her lungs. A few of the horses were still asleep in their stalls, but most of them were already awake and making soft shuffling sounds.

She checked on Ginger first, finding the pregnant mare standing in her stall, her belly distended with the weight of her foal. The muscles on each side of her pelvic bone were sunken in, a sure sign she’d be giving birth soon. When exactly was anyone’s guess. The foaling process worked differently for each dam, and with this being Ginger’s first foal, all bets were off.

Leaving the mare within the confines of her stall, Kayla crossed to the opposite end of the building where the foal’s sire was stabled. Although they had farmhands, she still made a point of mucking Harlan’s stall herself. It kept her grounded, and it let the employees know she wasn’t asking them to do anything she wasn’t willing to do herself. As she approached, Harlan let out an impatient snort.

“Hey, brat.” Kayla set her coffee mug on the nearby stool. She grabbed Harlan’s halter from the hook outside the stall and slid open the gate. All his life, he’d been on the temperamental side. He’d left her a smelly present just inside the stall, one of his nightly rituals. But what struck her as odd was the way he’d crammed his massive body into the corner, as if something had spooked him.

His strange behavior put her on edge, and she cautiously approached the big stallion.

“It’s okay, baby.” She kept her voice calm and low. She reached out to stroke his velvety muzzle, and a shiver rippled through his muscles. The stallion let out a soft snuffle as he licked the palm of her hand.

Some of the tension left her when Harlan dipped his head down to sniff her pockets. The big mooch was checking to see whether she had any peppermints tucked in her jeans. Of course, she did, but he wasn’t getting any until he was out in his paddock. She slipped the halter over his head, and just as she was about to fasten the snap, she noticed something dark on the underside of his neck.

“What the—?”

Eyes narrowed, she leaned closer to get a better view. When her fingers brushed against the mark, Harlan jerked his head back and let out a sharp whinny. The area felt warm and sticky, and when she drew her hand away, she found blood on her fingers.

“Oh, honey, what happened?”

It wasn’t uncommon for horses to get strange cuts. Just last week, Mingo got a bite on his flank from another gelding, and Tamarack ran into the barbed wire a couple of months ago. But she’d never seen a cut this high on Harlan’s neck before. Or one this straight. It was neat, almost a little too neat, as if someone—

A loud thudding sound from the other side of the building had her nearly jumping straight out of her boots. Quickly, she finished fastening Harlan’s halter before she craned her neck toward the noise.

“Sorry.” It was Elliot, one of her employees. He’d worked on the farm since Kayla was sixteen. Her grandfather had given him a job when no one else would, and ever since then, he’d been a hard worker, fiercely loyal, and he had a good rapport with the horses.

“Everything okay?” Kayla called out.

“Yeah, I just accidentally slammed the lid on the washer.”

Satisfied with his answer, Kayla shifted her attention back to Harlan. The bleeding had stopped, and the cut was shallow, which might explain why there wasn’t much blood. At least he wouldn’t need any stitches.

Leaving the stall, she retrieved the first-aid kit from the tack room. It didn’t take long to clean the cut and apply a thick layer of antibiotic ointment. She’d keep a close eye on the wound and watch for infection until it fully healed.

She attached a lead to the halter and led Harlan out of the stall. The big horse let out a soft nicker as she turned him out in the paddock closest to the house. During the heat of the day, she preferred to keep him outside, where the huge oak trees would give him plenty of shade when temperatures soared into the nineties. In the meantime, she’d clean out his stall and bring him some fresh hay for breakfast.

Before she headed back to the stable, she dug a peppermint out of her pants pocket and held it out to the stallion. His soft lips tickled her skin as he snatched it from her open palm.

As she wiped her hand against the side of her pants, she glanced toward the house. A light shone in Mason’s room. She scowled. He was supposed to meet her inside the barn at five, where she’d give him a list of tasks to complete. And oh, what a list she’d prepared. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize that farm life wasn’t a walk in the park. And if that didn’t force him to admit defeat, she had a few more tricks up her sleeve. One way or another, she was winning this bet. The future of the farm depended on it.

*****

WHEN MASON’S ALARM went off at four thirty, he almost slept right through it. Normally, he woke up at six and was in his office by seven at the latest.

Groggy, he dragged his head off the pillow, needing a few beats to gain his bearings and to remember where he was and why he was there. The ranch. The bet.

Aw, hell.

With a groan, he got out of bed. There was something seriously wrong with getting up at the butt crack of nothing. In the dark, he stumbled to the bathroom and into the shower, his body jerking awake at the shock of cool water. He grabbed for the shampoo, and by the time he finished washing his hair, he could almost pass for human.

A few minutes before five, he was showered, shaved, dressed, and on his way to the kitchen. The lights were on, and Louise sat at the table by herself, drinking coffee and reading something on her phone.

“Pot’s by the fridge,” she said when he entered, not bothering to look up. She wore low-slung jeans and a simple black T-shirt that had “Rock Star” scrawled across the front in what appeared to be rhinestones. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face, and her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail.

“Thanks.” Grateful, he poured half a cup and took a sip. Nice and strong, just the way he liked it. After filling the cup the rest of the way, he grabbed a bagel from the plate on the counter and sat at the table across from Louise.

Peering up, she shot him a funny look. “You showered?”

The question caught him off guard. “Uh, yeah. Why, is that a problem?”

“No, but it’s a waste of water. I usually wait until after I get filthy.”

“Point taken.” He bit into his bagel. “Where’s Kayla?”

“In the stable. She always goes there first thing to check on the horses.” Finished with her coffee, she rinsed her mug and loaded it into the dishwasher. At the door, she paused with her hand on the knob and twisted her neck to look back at him. “When you’re ready, meet her in there. She’ll let you know what needs to be done.”

Oh, goody. He couldn’t wait to see what she had planned for him. Whatever it was, he’d handle it just like he handled everything else life threw his way: quickly, efficiently, and with as little bullshit as possible.

After he swallowed the last bite of his breakfast, he washed it down with the rest of his coffee and rinsed out the empty mug. He stepped outside and paused on the front step for a second or two while his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. During the night the clouds had cleared, leaving an unobstructed view of the moon and stars. The sun wouldn’t rise for a while, but on the bright side, the darkness kept the summer heat down to a tolerable level. By noon, temperatures would soar to the mid-nineties with humidity that clung to your clothes.

Light shined through the open stable door, and a soft whinny broke the silence. Might as well get this over with, Mason thought as he crossed the distance and walked inside.

The gate for one of the stalls was open. A wheelbarrow was parked outside, filled halfway with wood shavings and manure. Inside the stall, he spotted Kayla holding what resembled a rake with really long teeth. Her hair hung between her shoulder blades in a long, neat braid, and he couldn’t help but notice how nicely her jeans showed off the juicy curve of her ass. As if sensing his presence, she whirled around and gave him a long appraising look.

“Nice boots. They probably put you back at least a grand. It’s a shame they’re going to get covered in shit.” The corners of her mouth lifted as she handed him the rake. “Here, take this. It’s a shavings fork. Elliot’s going to show you how to turn out the horses and muck a stall. Once you’ve finished all the stalls in the stable, let me know and I’ll show you how to tack up a mount.”

It was almost noon by the time Mason mucked every stall and hauled the soiled wood shavings and manure to the compost heap. In spite of the work gloves Elliot gave him to wear, his fingers stung with blisters. His back was absolutely killing him. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, convinced that he’d never get the stench of manure out of his nostrils.

Mouth dry and muscles sore, he stripped off the work gloves and went to the tack room for something to drink. After working in the stable all morning, the cold blast of air conditioning felt like a slice of pure heaven. There was a mini refrigerator in the back of the room, and he grabbed a bottle of water from the top shelf and chugged half of it in one long swallow.

Never in his life had water tasted so good. He drank the rest and was going for a second bottle when he heard the door open behind him.

“Ah, there you are.” It was Kayla, sounding way too damn happy. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

He turned to face her, taking in her dirt-stained jeans and rumpled red top. Strands of brown hair stuck out of her braid, and on some level, it made him feel better to know she’d been working her ass off as well. “Just getting a drink. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

“Of course. The last thing I want is to drag your butt to the hospital because you came down with heatstroke.”

She brushed past him to get to the fridge, and the feel of her body against his sent a hot bolt of awareness right through him. He backed up a step, giving her room, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her.

“I’m done with the stalls. What do you want me to do next?”

Her gaze moved over him while she unscrewed the cap, and there was something in her eyes he couldn’t decipher. Concern? No, impossible. She’d like nothing better than to see him fall flat on his ass.

“Go up to the house and eat lunch,” she finally said before she took a sip. “When you’re done, come back to the stable and I’ll show you what else needs to be done.”

*****

KAYLA LEANED ONE shoulder against the stable door and watched Mason as he headed toward the house. The blisters on his hands looked painful and raw, and his shirt was soaked with sweat. And the purposeful air to his stride was long gone, replaced with a gait weighed down with heat and fatigue.

Not so easy, is it? She had a sick sense of satisfaction at the thought. After lunch, she’d teach him how to tack up a mount before sending him off to rinse out and refill the water troughs in the paddocks and repair the fence along the eastern border of the property. Then she’d help him bring the horses in for the night, showing him which animal went into which stall and how much to feed each one.

She heard the soft thud of boots come up behind her. “How’s it going with Monty?” she asked Louise without looking back.

“The usual, but he’s coming around.” Standing to Kayla’s left, Louise tracked her line of vision. “Did you finish with the vaccinations?”

“Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago.”

Ashley, the intern, had held each horse steady while Kayla delivered the injection to the neck. Normally, her sister provided the assist, but she’d spent the morning trying to get Monty ready for a saddle. The chestnut Hanoverian was proving to be spirited, which was exactly why his owner hired Louise. Bar none, she was the best horse trainer in the area; if she couldn’t get the troublesome colt to behave, it simply couldn’t be done.

Louise rubbed a spot on her arm where a bruise had deepened overnight to a dark shade of purple. “How’s the city boy doing?”

“About as well as can be expected. I just sent him to the house for some lunch.”

“Think he’ll last?”

“He won’t if I have anything to say about it.” She pressed her fingers against her temples, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. Yes, he seemed tired, but she couldn’t say for sure whether he’d last the entire two weeks. In the end, she supposed it all came down to which one of them was more stubborn.

Her gaze tracked over to the riding arena, where Mom and Dad’s ashes had been spread out. The farm had been their life, just like it had been for Grandma and Grandpa. Just like it was for her. A shudder ran through her at the thought of a shopping center being built over what was left of them. One way or another, she’d find a way to win this damn bet and secure her family’s future.

Louise glanced down at her watch. “What do you have planned for him this afternoon?”

“I’m going to show him how to put on tack. Then he’s on trough duty. If he has enough time after that, he can fix the fence in Tamarack’s paddock before bringing in the horses for the night.”

“Do you want me to get their food ready before I leave for class?”

Louise was halfway through her senior year at the University of Central Florida. A biology major, she’d already started to apply for admission to veterinary schools across the country. Competition was fierce, but with her grades and experience, she stood a good chance of getting accepted. The possibility left Kayla with mixed emotions. Things were tough enough with their brother serving overseas. To lose Louise on top of that would be a blow to the farm, but it was her dream, just as the farm was Kayla’s dream, and it would be selfish to deny her the opportunity.

“No, it’s okay. Mason can do it.”

“That’s a lot for one person to do.”

“He’s a big boy. He said he could handle anything I dish out.” And she had every intention of finding his limits and pushing well beyond them. “I’m thinking about putting him on a horse tomorrow.”

“Which one?” Louise’s eyes widened. “You’re not putting him on Harlan, are you?”

Kayla huffed out a breath. “I wouldn’t do that to poor Harlan.” Besides, no one rode the stallion but her. The last time she allowed another person in the saddle, the temperamental brat had thrown the poor woman before making it into the arena. “I’ll probably put him on Mingo. Or maybe Aspen.”

“Considering his size, Fleetwood might be better. Does he have any riding experience?”

Kayla shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess I’ll ask him tonight.”

“Yeah, well, have fun with that. If there isn’t anything else you need me to do, I’m going inside for a quick change and shower.”

“Nah, I’m good. Have fun with class.”

Chapter Six

REFRESHED, RECHARGED, AND ready for more, Mason left the house and went to the stable in search of Kayla.

She was sadly mistaken if she thought he was going to fold after one fucking day. The more she dumped on him, the more determined he became to win this godforsaken wager. So he’d clean the stalls, and shovel the shit, and do anything else she had planned for him. And after he’d won, and he’d finalized the plans for the development of the property, he’d figure a way to get her naked and sweaty.

He found her in the wash stall with one of her teenage students, taking the saddle off a dark-brown horse. Something flashed in her eyes when she caught sight of him, but then she blinked, and it was gone. She held the saddle out toward him.

“Put this in the tack room, will you? First row of pegs, third to the left.”

“Yes ma’am.” He put the saddle away, and when he returned, the student was busy washing the horse. Kayla was nowhere in sight.

“She said she’d be right back,” the girl informed him.

Sure enough, Kayla appeared less than a minute later, leading a spotted horse into the barn. She maneuvered the horse into the second wash stall and clipped a pair of crossties to his halter.

“Usually, the students tack up their own mounts, but the girl coming in this afternoon for a lesson has special needs.” She gestured to the items in the basket attached to the side of the stall. “It’s important to always groom a horse before putting on their tack. If the horse isn’t clean, he might suffer from chafing. It also helps to form a relationship between the horse and its handler. And, most important, it gives the handler a chance to check the horse’s health. Any questions?”

“Not yet, but I’ll let you know when I have one.”

“Fair enough.” She gave him a curt nod and gestured to the items in the basket. One by one, she went over each tool and gave a brief demonstration of how each was used and in what order. Currycomb. Brushes. Mane comb and hoof pick.

“All set?” she asked once she finished.

“Yeah, it seems simple enough.”

“All right, then. Why don’t you go ahead and groom Mingo? When you’re finished, give me a holler and I’ll show you how to put on his tack.”

“I already know how to put it on,” he said as she started to walk away. “I watched Ashley tack up Lenox this morning.”

Kayla arched a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Just let me know which saddle is his.”

Judging by the expression on her face, she wasn’t convinced. “Last time I checked, it was on the top row of pegs, second to the right. There’s a crack in the leather along the knee roll. If you can’t find it, let me know.”

“You got it.”

This is pretty easy, Mason thought as he combed and brushed the horse. Mingo didn’t act as if he minded being groomed, letting out the occasional snort and shifting his weight from one side to the other. Mason picked up the hoof pick, with its short metal hook on one side and a small, stiff brush on the other. Facing the rear of the horse, he ran his hand down the length of Mingo’s back leg, just as he’d seen Ashley do. But instead of raising his leg like the other horse had done for Ashley, Mingo’s hoof remained firmly planted against the concrete. Mason tried again. Same result.

“Come on, buddy,” he muttered as he attempted to pry the horse’s hoof off the ground.

“Need help?”

The sound of Ashley’s voice was like music to his ears. If she could show him how to do it, he wouldn’t have to ask Kayla. “Yeah. I’m trying to clean Mingo’s hooves, but he’s not being very cooperative.”

“He gets that way sometimes.” She stepped into the stall. “Here, let me show you a trick.”

Mason moved back to allow Ashley to take his place by Mingo’s side. She ran her hand down the back of the gelding’s leg, stopping a few inches below the knee.

“If you give the tendon back here a light squeeze, most horses will automatically pick their hooves up. Like this.” Her fingers flexed, and sure enough, Mingo raised his back leg. “Now you try it.”

He did. It worked. “I’ll be damned. Thanks a million.”

“No problem.” The young woman blushed and averted her eyes. “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the arena.”

He made quick work of cleaning Mingo’s hooves, scraping and brushing out all of the dirt, shit, and God knew what else the horse had managed to pack in there. When he finished, he went to the tack room and collected everything he needed to get the horse ready for his rider. He was cinching the saddle when Kayla walked past.

She stopped and backed up a few steps. “Where’s the saddle pad?”

Shit, he knew he’d forgotten something. Cursing under his breath, he unfastened the girth, yanked off the saddle, and stalked into the laundry room for a saddle pad. He grabbed a blue quilted one off the top of the stack and trudged back to Mingo. He could have sworn the damn horse was laughing at him.

Saddle pad. Saddle. Girth.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he wiped his hands against his pants.

Kayla came back by a couple of minutes later and gave the tack a close inspection. “Good job. Don’t forget to tighten the girth after you bring him out of the barn.”

“Why?”

“He likes to hold his breath. Trust me, you’ll get at least one more notch.” She brushed one hand down Mingo’s side. “All right, let me show you how to put his bridle on.”

She made it look easy, but he had a funny feeling it wouldn’t be so easy for him. From what he understood, horses weren’t too keen on having bits in their mouths. After she looped the reins over Mingo’s head, she fastened a thick leather strap around his neck.

“What’s that for?” Mason asked.

“I use it with newer riders to help them learn the proper jump position.”

She grabbed a floppy straw hat off the hook by the door, and together, they walked Mingo out of the barn. When they stopped at a block of steps by the fence, she asked him to check the girth again, and he was able to tighten it by two more notches.

A little girl no older than eight sat with her mother on the old wooden bleachers by the arena. She looked cute in her little riding outfit and helmet, a miniature version of the other riders he’d seen earlier in the day. When she caught sight of Mingo, her entire face brightened, and she bolted up from her seat.

“No running, remember?” Kayla said in a friendly yet authoritative tone.

“Sorry.” The girl complied, dropping to a walk as she bridged the short distance between them. Still, she nearly vibrated with excitement. Although she didn’t limp, something was wrong with her gait, as if she favored one leg over the other. Reaching out, she petted Mingo’s nose and the horse let out a soft nicker.

“Jenna, this is Mason. He’s helping out on the farm for a little while.”

The little girl gave him a shy wave before she climbed the block of steps. He was about to help her get up on the horse when she slipped one foot into the left stirrup and hoisted herself onto the saddle. Kayla adjusted the stirrups to fit the length of Jenna’s legs, and then they were off to the arena.

As he leaned back against the side of the building, Mason watched while Kayla worked with the little girl. Jenna acted nervous at first but relaxed after a few minutes, and when she did, Kayla asked her to make Mingo trot. She pressed her heels into the horse’s sides, and when Mingo started to trot, she rose from the saddle in perfect sync with the horse’s gait. After three or four times around the arena, Kayla called out, “Okay, now I want to see you get into jump position.”

Jenna grabbed a hunk of the horse’s mane with both hands before she rose out of the saddle. Her eyes widened, and she sank back down onto the seat; her little body bounced up and down with Mingo’s trot.

“Use the neck strap instead of the mane,” Kayla told her. “It’ll help you find your balance.”

“O-okay.” Jenna followed Kayla’s instructions and grabbed the thick leather strap with both hands as she once again rose from the saddle. She stayed up this time, adjusting her posture according to Kayla’s directions until her back was straight, her heels were tilted downward, and her body was bent slightly toward the horse’s neck.

“Good job, good job!” Kayla clapped her hands. “All right, let him walk for a bit.”

She walked to the center of the arena and picked up a bottle of water on the ground next to one of the jumps. He watched her throat muscles move while she drank, and his own mouth suddenly felt dry. What was it about her that made him yearn for things that simply weren’t part of the big picture? He didn’t know, and for the life of him, he couldn’t explain it. He’d never experienced anything like it, and it left him completely unnerved.

As if she could feel the weight of his stare, Kayla looked in his direction. Their eyes locked. He stopped breathing. For a second, he could have sworn she did too. Then her gaze narrowed beneath the floppy straw hat. “The troughs in the paddocks need to be cleaned and refilled,” she called out before turning back to Jenna.

*****

THE WORKDAY DIDN’T end until quarter to six, when all of the horses were back in their stalls and the stable door was closed and padlocked.

Mason stood beneath the showerhead with both hands propped against the wall. The cool water ran over his shoulders and down his knotted back. After thirteen hours of working on the farm, every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. A dull throb pounded in his temples, and the blisters on both hands stung.

And he still had a lot of work to do.

A mountain of emails waited in his Inbox and he had a conference call in less than an hour. The real world hadn’t stopped because he made a stupid bet. He had projects to run and an empire to maintain. If he didn’t keep up, the wheels of competition would crush him.

One day down, thirteen to go, he thought as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair. On the bright side, he was exercising muscles he never did at the gym. He made a point of keeping his mind and body fit, and he wasn’t about to let a little hard work defeat him. One way or another, he’d make it through the next two weeks and claim his prize—and maybe more.

In his mind, he pictured Kayla as he imagined how she’d look completely naked. Lean muscles. Soft curves. Full breasts. His mouth watered. He wanted to taste every inch of her body, wanted to learn what made her whimper and moan. A few scenarios popped into his mind, heating his blood and tightening his balls.

Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a few long pumps. Then he closed his eyes and imagined Kayla’s hand stroking him, cupping his balls, faster and faster, just a little more pressure, a little more friction, the surge mounting from deep in his shaft until his mind went blank in an explosion of pleasure that left him weak at the knees.

Breathing heavy, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Normally, an orgasm left him relaxed and at ease, but this one left him wanting more. Wanting her. He toweled his body dry and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, feeling better now that he was clean and a little less achy. As he combed his hair, he checked his reflection, deciding to go ahead and shave tonight so he wouldn’t have to screw with it in the morning.

He cut his neck twice, and his stomach was audibly growling by the time he walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. The spicy scent of marinara sauce filled the air, making him even hungrier. A loaf of French bread was on the table, along with two place settings.

Kayla stood in front of the stove, wearing a formfitting red tank top and a pair of black shorts that hugged her ass. Her hair was wet and her feet were bare, and she was holding a long wooden spoon. One of his earlier fantasies flashed through his mind, and it took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself in check.

“What do you want to drink with dinner?” She tossed him a glance over her shoulder. “Beer, milk, juice, water?”

“A beer would be nice.”

“Good. There’s a six-pack on the top shelf in the fridge. You want to get one for me while you’re at it? Pint glasses are in the cabinet to your left.” Her tone wasn’t friendly—more matter-of-fact—but at least she wasn’t openly hostile, so Mason decided to go with the flow.

“You got it, boss lady.” He opened the cabinet and took out two glasses. “Why are there only two plates on the table?”

“Louise said she’d pick up something on her way home from class, so it’s just you and me for dinner. I hope you like pasta.” She slid her hands into a pair of oversized oven mitts and picked up the larger pot. A plume of steam billowed up from the sink when she dumped the rigatoni into a strainer.

“Pasta’s fine.” Hell, at this point, he was just happy to be fed. He hadn’t expected her to provide dinner, so this was a pleasant surprise. Although he wasn’t sure how much she expected him to eat. She’d cooked enough to feed a frigging army. “That’s an awful lot of food.”

The observation didn’t seem to faze her. “I don’t cook often, but when I do, I make a lot so there’s plenty of leftovers.”

She loaded two plates before dumping the remaining rigatoni in a large bowl and mixing in the sauce. After placing the empty pots in the sink to soak, she set the plates on the table.

“If you want more, you’re welcome to it,” she said as she picked up her fork.

Awkward silence stretched between them while they ate, the only sound coming from the clinking of silverware and the ticking of a clock on the wall. The rigatoni was tender, cooked to perfection, and the sauce tasted spicy and rich. It didn’t take long before Mason cleaned his plate, and he went to the bowl for seconds.

And then thirds.

“If you like, I could pour the rest into a feed bag and strap it to your head,” Kayla offered when he sat back down. A ghost of a smile creased the corners of her mouth.

Was she teasing him? It struck him as out of character, but maybe after a hard day’s work she felt more relaxed. He smiled in return. “Maybe I wouldn’t eat so much if you hadn’t worked me half to death.”

She made a dismissive sound. “Are you kidding? That was just a warm-up. Wait until you see what I have planned for you tomorrow.”

“Oh? What’ll it be this time? Paint the stables? Scrub the stalls with a toothbrush? Circumcise the stallions?”

The last one made her laugh so hard she nearly choked on her beer. A crimson blush stained her cheeks as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “We only have two stallions on the farm, and I doubt either one of them would let you get close enough.”

“Can’t say that I blame them.” Yawning, Mason picked up his empty plate and carried it to the sink. He felt beat, and now that his stomach was full, his eyes were starting to droop. And he still had hours of work ahead of him. There were contracts to read and sign, audits to review, and a conference call in less than ten minutes.

He considered asking for a cup of coffee, but the caffeine would probably leave him too wired to sleep later on. It was probably better to suffer through the fatigue than to risk losing a minute of rest. God only knew what Kayla had planned for him tomorrow, and he needed to be mentally and physically prepared if he wanted to take it in stride.

“Just set it on the counter,” she told him. “I’ll take care of it when I’m finished.”

Fine by him. The quicker he completed his work, the sooner he could get some rest.

“Thanks for dinner. What time are we starting tomorrow?”

“Same as today.” She flashed him a big toothy smile, clearly enjoying his exhaustion. “Get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

Chapter Seven

BY THE TIME Mason powered down his laptop, it was almost two in the morning.

There’d been a problem with one of his projects in Dubai, and he’d spent over three hours on the phone and computer getting all of the details ironed out. Bleary-eyed and mentally drained, he brushed his teeth, stripped off his clothes, and crawled beneath the covers.

But even though his body was exhausted, his brain refused to sleep. Images from the day clicked through his mind as though they were on some kind of feedback loop. The stables. The horses. But mostly, it was Kayla. Out in the ring. Cooking dinner. Bent over as she picked up a saddle. The last one triggered all sorts of filthy fantasies, and he ruthlessly shoved them aside before he got any bright ideas about going to her room.

He tossed and turned. Stared at the ceiling. Thought of the ocean. Nothing worked. At ten past four, with a frustrated growl, he whipped back the covers and climbed out of bed. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well do something productive. Besides, the alarm was set to go off in twenty minutes, and even if he fell asleep that instant, it wouldn’t be enough rest to do him any good.

When he pulled all-nighters at the age of nineteen, he’d considered it a victory, as if he’d beaten the night. But at thirty-two, he felt like death warmed over.

Desperate for caffeine, he tugged on some clothes and ventured down the hallway toward the kitchen. The lights were already on, and the aroma of coffee was so thick and rich he could practically taste it.

When he entered, he saw Kayla at the table, dressed in blue jeans and a gray v-neck shirt. Her long brown hair was tied back in its usual braid that trailed down the center of her back. She was drinking coffee and eating a huge bowl of cereal. And even though the sight wasn’t erotic in the least, something deep inside him growled, mine.

She glanced up, the spoon halfway to her mouth, and gave him a questioning look. “You don’t have to start work for almost an hour.”

“I know. Couldn’t sleep.” Ignoring the ache in his muscles, he grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and filled it with coffee. He took a long sip and—damn, that tasted amazing. He nearly groaned out loud. Mug in hand, he pulled out a chair and sat.

“You better get yourself something to eat,” Kayla said between spoonfuls of cereal. “It’s going to be a busy day.”

“I hope so.” Otherwise, he wouldn’t stay awake. Heeding her advice, he toasted a bagel and slathered it with so much cream cheese it oozed out the sides with every bite. As soon as he finished, he toasted another and washed it down with a second cup of coffee. The caffeine in his system beat back the exhaustion, giving him the energy boost he’d need to make it through the morning without face-planting in one of the stalls. When he finally crashed, it wouldn’t be pretty, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He studied Kayla over the rim of his mug, noticing for the first time the dark circles under her eyes. Guess he wasn’t the only one who didn’t get much sleep. “Rough night?”

She jerked, as if startled by the question. “Huh? No, I got stuck working late. One of the other bartenders called out sick so I stayed until one to cover her shift.”

She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn as she got up to load her bowl and mug in the dishwasher.

The sight stirred something primal and protective inside him. It hit him then, with a bit of shock, how much he disliked seeing her so tired. And the part that aggravated him even more was that she didn’t need to run herself ragged. If she only gave in and accepted his offer, she’d have everything she could possibly want without having to work herself half to death.

“What do you want me to do today?” Mason asked when she started toward the door.

She twisted her neck to peer back at him. “Turn out the horses, then muck out the stalls. When you’re finished, get Fleetwood from his paddock and tack him up.”

Fleetwood, Fleetwood, which one was Fleetwood? It was hard to keep all of the horses straight. Then the image of a huge black gelding popped into his head. “I didn’t think you used him for lessons.”

“Yeah, we do. But because of his size, we only use him with certain riders.” The grin she flashed him was wicked. “Like you.”

*****

KAYLA HAD SPENT nearly two hours with her clients, doing everything she could possibly think of to persuade Joe Hoffman and his granddaughter, Abigail, into purchasing one of the farm’s colts.

Three years ago, they’d bought an eight-year-old mare from the farm, and now they wanted a horse for Abigail to ride in competition. They’d narrowed the choices down to Ripley, a four-year-old thoroughbred, and Echo, a three-year-old thoroughbred-quarter horse mix. Both horses were in the northeast paddock so the Hoffmans could inspect the animals together.

“He’s a beauty, all right.” The older man ran a hand along Ripley’s back. He walked around to the horse’s head and checked Ripley’s teeth and eyes again. “You say he’s already saddle trained?”

“Yes, sir,” Kayla replied, hoping they’d choose the young thoroughbred. His champion pedigree commanded a higher price than Echo, enough to pay off the truck loan. “Ripley took to the saddle pretty quickly. He loves to run, and with his bloodlines, he’d be perfect for racing, jumping, or dressage.”

“How about polo?” Abigail’s short red hair ruffled in the breeze. Up to this point, the young woman hadn’t said very much, her focus more directed on inspecting every inch of both horses with a fine-toothed comb.

“Honestly, I couldn’t say. It’s not my area of expertise. But considering how easy he’s been to train, I don’t see it posing a problem.”

Joe bent his head and said something to Abigail in a voice that was too low for Kayla to hear. Abigail nodded, and Joe smiled.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Abby would like to take Ripley for a ride,” he said.

“Of course.” Kayla smiled. She’d sold enough horses to know that a prospective buyer didn’t ask to ride one unless they were extremely interested in buying it. “Why don’t you wait by the arena while I bring him to the barn and get his tack on?”

After clipping a lead to the halter, she led Ripley into the barn and secured him in one of the stalls. Quickly, she went to the tack room and gathered everything she needed. She was on her way out when she heard one of the horses let out a sharp whinny. Usually, they were all out in the paddocks by now. But the farrier was coming at ten to trim the hooves on six of the horses, and she’d told the guys to leave those ones in their stalls. The horse whinnied again, and she could have sworn it sounded a lot like Ginger.

Concerned, she set the tack on the bench and hurried toward the mare’s stall. It wasn’t normal for a horse to make that kind of noise unless it was in distress. It could mean the mare was going into labor or having complications with her pregnancy. The possibility of the latter scenario made her blood run cold.

As she drew closer, she noticed the stall door was open. The horse let out another whinny, this time followed by the grumbling of a man’s deep voice saying, “Stupid fucking animal.”

Kayla’s temper spiked. She recognized the voice. It was Pat, one of the farmhands, and she’d already warned him once about being rough with the horses. She’d also caught him smoking in the building last week, which meant this was his third strike.

She peered into the stall in time to see him grab Ginger by the head and yank down hard. He was a tall, rangy guy, dressed as always in a worn T-shirt and faded jeans. A nylon halter was in his other hand, and he roughly shoved it over Ginger’s muzzle. The pregnant mare’s ears were pinned back against her skull, and her hooves were pawing the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kayla demanded as she stepped inside the stall.

Pat’s head whipped back in her direction, his eyes widening for an instant when he saw her. He recovered quickly, and the bastard had the balls to flash a smile as he gave the mare a pat on the neck. “Oh, I’m just putting her halter on so I can take her out of the stall while I muck it.”

Kayla wasn’t sure what pissed her off more: the way he’d treated Ginger, or his blatant attempt to pretend the abuse never happened. She reached for the halter and gently led Ginger to the opposite side of the stall. The mare was still skittish but relaxed a bit once she wasn’t standing right next to Pat.

“I saw the way you were treating her.” Kayla tried but failed to keep the anger from her voice. “We’ve talked about this before.”

Pat frowned, the action causing deep lines to spread across his tanned forehead. He raked a hand through his thinning blond hair. “It’s no big deal. She was being a pain.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve warned you about being rough with the animals. That’s your third strike. You’re out of here.”

“I’m fired? For that?” His weathered face reddened with anger. “Oh, that’s bullshit.”

“Call it what you want. I’ll send your last check in the mail.”

His eyes narrowed, and the vein on his forehead looked like it was about to explode. “No fucking way. You’ll pay me right now.”

“Sorry, it doesn’t work that way.”

He stepped toward her, blocking her only way out of the stall and moving deep within her personal space. This close, she could smell the sweat on his skin and the foul tang of cigarettes on his breath. “I’m not leaving until I get a check. Better yet, I want cash.”

A sliver of fear snaked down her spine, but she refused to let it show. All her life, she’d never given in to a bully. She wasn’t about to start now. “I said no. Now get off my farm.”

His upper lip peeled back in a sneer, his hands balled into fists. “Make me.”

He was at least four inches taller and outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. Heart racing, she tried to think of a way out of this mess that didn’t involve kicking him in the nuts. Not that she was totally against the idea, but she’d rather avoid a physical altercation.

A flash of movement outside the stall caught Kayla’s eye. Her gaze flicked up in time to see Mason grab Pat by the back of his shirt and haul him out of the stall.

“The lady told you to leave,” Mason snarled. He slammed Pat against one of the stall doors, and the impact echoed through the barn. “That means you’ve got two choices: either leave on your own, or get taken away by an ambulance.”

Pat glared at Mason with a look of pure hatred. He cocked back one arm as though he might take a swing, but then he must have thought better of the idea. “This ain’t your fight, man.”

“It is now. Leave before you get hurt.”

Cautiously, Kayla stepped out of Ginger’s stall and rolled the gate closed. From where she stood, she couldn’t see Mason’s face, but the tone of his voice sounded lethal and tension rolled off him in waves. His broad shoulders were squared and his legs were slightly parted, as if he expected Pat to start a fight at any moment.

Instead, her now-former employee twisted his neck and spat on the ground. “Fine. Mail me the fucking check. I didn’t want to work in this shit hole anyway.” Turning on his heel, he stormed into the tack room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Mason glanced over his shoulder at Kayla, his piercing blue eyes filled with a savage intensity that made her shiver. And damn if it also made her kind of hot.

“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll watch him collect his things and make sure he doesn’t cause any damage.”

Kayla let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

She hugged her arms around her waist while she watched Mason step inside the tack room. She strained to listen for any signs of trouble but only heard the sound of the fan and the shuffling of horses inside their stalls. Minutes later, an engine rumbled to life, and when she looked through one of the open stall windows, she saw Pat’s black pickup truck peel down the long driveway that led out to the main road.

Seconds later, Mason emerged from the tack room, his posture rigid and his face unreadable. He approached her slowly, as if she were a skittish filly ready to bolt.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his deep voice low and guarded. Slowly, he reached out and touched her arm, and the simple contact made her pulse jump.

“I’m fine. He just scared me a little.” She rubbed the knot of tension at the base of her skull. All her life, she’d hated to admit weakness, and it bothered her even more to admit it to a man she considered her enemy. “I’ve fired plenty of people over the years, but I’ve never had one threaten me before.”

A frown still creased Mason’s brow, but his eyes turned soft and gentle. “I hate bullies. My younger brother used to get beat up in school by a couple of bigger kids. I didn’t learn about it for almost a year because Shane thought I’d call him a sissy.”

“How’d you find out?”

“He came home one day after school with ripped pants and a black eye.”

Poor kid. “What did you do?”

“Beat the living shit out of both of the assholes and threatened to rip their balls off if they ever touched my brother again.” He said it casually, as though anyone would act the same way to defend a sibling.

It sounded barbaric, but she admired his willingness to stand up for his younger brother. “Did it work?”

He shrugged. “For a while. In the meantime, I taught him how to fight, and the next time someone tried to pick on him, he took care of it on his own.”

None of the articles she’d read about him mentioned his childhood, and this glimpse into his formative years fascinated her. “How much younger is he?”

“A little over three years.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgment. Louise was six years younger than her, but she’d always been so much of a tomboy no one ever dared to bully her in school. As for Carter—well, even at a young age, he’d always been able to take care of himself. “And how old were you when this happened?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Eleven. Maybe twelve.”

She couldn’t stop from smiling. “Little Mason, defender of the playground.”

“Hey, somebody had to do it. Our foster parents sure as hell weren’t going to lift a finger to help him.”

“You were foster children?” That surprised her. She’d assumed he was the product of wealth, not a broken home. It made his rise to the top even more improbable, and in spite of their wager she admired his determination to succeed.

And just like that, Mason’s face shuttered, as if he hadn’t meant to share those details of his childhood and instantly regretted it. “Yeah. For a while.”

He didn’t elaborate, and considering the subject obviously bothered him, she didn’t push for more details.

Her eyes met his, and a strange and unwelcome flash of heat pulsed through her. No. Not him. Not ever. Unwilling to acknowledge the sensation, she stepped back to put space between them. “Thanks again for your help. If you weren’t here, things could have ended a lot worse.”

The muscle along his jaw flexed. “I know. If he comes back around, call me and then call the police. You have my number in your phone, right?”

She hesitated before answering. “No, but I have it written down at the house.”

“That won’t do you any good out here.” He held his hand out. “Give me your phone.”

Reaching into her back pocket, she retrieved her phone and placed it in his open palm. For a guy with such big hands, he typed pretty fast, and before long he handed the phone back to her.

“Call me if he so much as sets foot on the property.”

Without another word, he turned around and disappeared inside one of the stalls.

Chapter Eight

PAT’S FIRING LEFT the farm shorthanded, and with Ashley in class and Elliot tied up with jury duty, all of the stable tasks rolled down to Mason. Kayla and Louise pitched in whenever they could, but they had horses to train and riders to instruct, and that kept them out of the stable for most of the day.

Mason’s blood still boiled at the memory of Pat threatening Kayla. What would have happened to her if he hadn’t been around? A few possible outcomes flashed through his mind, kicking all of his protective instincts into overdrive. Bet or no bet, he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe. If that asshole so much as set foot on the farm again, he’d tear his fucking head off.

By the time they brought all of the horses in for the night, it was almost five o’clock. Every muscle in Mason’s body throbbed with fatigue, and a headache pounded his temples.

“Thanks for taking up the slack,” Louise said as they walked out of the barn. She tugged off her work gloves and stuffed them into her back pocket.

“No problem. Is there anything else you need me to do?” If not, he planned to chug a few aspirins, take a hot shower, grab a quick bite, and then start his other work for the evening. Shane had left him a message a couple hours ago, something about another problem with the Dubai project. He needed to call back and get all of the information so he could figure out a way to fix it.

“No.” Louise shook her head. “I think you’re good for the night.” She stopped walking and glanced to her right, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Mason followed her gaze and spotted Kayla in the arena by one of the jumps, lifting the wood beam at the top. “What’s she doing?”

“Adjusting the heights on the fences. Must be getting ready to ride Harlan.” With a sigh, Louise gestured to the small section of bleacher seats outside the arena. “You might as well sit down and enjoy the show.”

Kayla disappeared inside the barn and emerged a short time later, leading Harlan by the reins. She’d put on a black riding helmet and a pair of half chaps, and a riding crop was in her right hand. After she tightened the girth, she mounted the stallion and rode him into the arena. If she noticed them watching, she didn’t let it show, her eyes fierce and focused straight ahead as she rose from the saddle in perfect time with the horse’s trot.

Mason tilted his head toward Louise, but his eyes never left Kayla. “Does she ride him often?”

“Four or five times a week. Sometimes more if she’s stressed out.” A shadow crossed Louise’s face. “She’s really not supposed to be jumping anymore, but try telling that to her.”

“Why not?”

“Spinal injury. She took a bad spill once during a competition. It was almost a year before she could walk. If she falls the wrong way again, she could end up paralyzed.”

“That’s crazy. Why risk it?” The report he’d read about Kayla mentioned a riding injury, but it hadn’t delved into the details. He couldn’t imagine getting back in the saddle after suffering an accident that severe.

“I don’t know, because she loves it?” Louise shrugged in the same way her older sister often did. “I suppose it’s in her blood. Like the farm.”

Mason slanted a glance in her direction. “You could have a much nicer farm outside the city, one with all the latest amenities. And there’d still be enough money left over to send you to vet school and make Kayla’s life a lot more comfortable.”

Louise shook her head while she blew out a tired sigh. “You don’t get it, Falco. This farm is a part of our family. See that tree over there?” She pointed to a large laurel oak at the opposite end of the arena.

“What about it?”

“My dad planted it the day I was born. The one on the right was planted for Kayla, and the one next to it is Carter’s. And the cluster of magnolias out by the main gate was planted for Dad and his brothers. Almost every single tree on the property marks a moment in our family’s history.” She leaned back and rested her elbows against the bleacher seat behind her. “It may just be the two of us right now, but we’re never really alone.”

Mason was startled—not to mention annoyed—at the sharp stab of jealousy he felt. He and Shane had bounced from one foster home to another until he reached the age of eighteen. Then he’d been on his own, biting and clawing his way to a position where the state would grant him custody of his younger brother. And even though he was proud of his accomplishments, a part of him yearned for a sense of belonging that had always eluded him.

As he shook the thought from his mind, he shifted his attention back to the arena. Kayla had brought Harlan up to a canter, her legs locked against the animal’s sides as she circled the arena three or four times. The horse gathered speed as she steered the animal toward the first set of crossrails. Chin up, heels down, and narrowed eyes staring straight forward, she lifted slightly out of the saddle as Harlan leaped over the jump. He landed smoothly, his strides long and fluid as he barreled toward the next fence.

They moved together, horse and rider, sailing over a series of obstacles until Kayla straightened in the saddle and slowed Harlan to a walk. She was breathing heavy, just like the horse. An elated expression lit up her face, so brilliant it made Mason’s chest tight. Reaching down, she patted Harlan’s thick neck and murmured a genuine-sounding, “Good boy, good boy.”

Louise rose from her seat. “If you’re going to hang around and watch her ride, I’ll head back to the house and start dinner.”

“Do you need any help?” Mason started to get up, but Louise motioned for him to stay put.

“No, thanks. You stay here. I don’t like her riding without anyone nearby.”

Her statement surprised him. “You worry about her.”

“Of course I worry. She’s my sister.” She smiled. “Catch her if she falls, will you?”

“I’ll do my best.”

As soon as Louise left, Mason powered up his phone and sent a quick text to Shane: Send me everything you can find about Kayla Phillips’s riding accident. Include all medical records. When he finished, he slid the phone back in his pocket and redirected his attention to the arena.

He watched, transfixed, while Kayla rode Harlan through the course two more times. Horse and rider seemed to become one as they flew through the air and over each set of obstacles. His heart leaped into his throat when Harlan refused to take a jump, coming to an abrupt halt inches away from the wood fence. Hands gripping the mane, Kayla held on tight, somehow staying in the saddle. She cut the reins to the left and brought the horse back around at a canter, her heels pressed against his sides, and this time Harlan leaped over the fence without any signs of hesitation.

They completed the rest of the course without incident, and when they finished, she allowed the horse time to cool down before she walked him out of the arena. She swung out of the saddle and hopped to the ground, her eyes glinting for the briefest of moments when she saw Mason approach.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were still around. Where’s Louise?”

“Back at the house getting dinner ready.” He ran a hand over Harlan’s side, and the horse let out a snort. “You looked really good out there.”

A hint of a smile warmed her face, as though she were genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thank you.”

He followed her inside the barn, where she led Harlan into a wash stall and removed his bridle and the rest of his tack.

“Need any help?”

“No, I got this. You’ve done enough work for the day.”

He watched her wash Harlan, using a scraper in the shape of a half-moon to remove the excess water from his thick, mahogany coat. Finished, she gave the horse a couple of mints and put him in his stall for the night.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mason said as he pulled the stable door closed.

“Sure, fire away.”

He turned to face her. “Do you ever worry about falling?”

She nodded. “Right before every jump.”

“Then why do it?”

Her features hardened—just a fraction, but enough to be noticeable. “Because I refuse to let fear destroy something I love.”

“But Louise said you could end up paralyzed if you fall.”

Judging by the look on her face, she’d heard that argument before. “Yeah, and if I drive, I could die in an accident. Or the plane I fly in might crash. Or someone might cough on me at the supermarket and give me some horrible, incurable disease. Sooner or later, something’s going to kill me, but in the meantime, I might as well enjoy my life.”

In spite of his concerns, he appreciated her attitude. It was the same way he tackled every challenge he faced: fearless and without hesitation. He saw her now with a new appreciation, and desire curled low in his belly.

“What?” A pair of lines formed between her eyebrows. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He grinned. “Because I’m going to kiss you. Right here. Right now.”

Her eyes went all big and wide. Shaking her head, she backed up a step, and her ass bumped against the stable door. “No. Oh, no, you’re not.”

“Oh, yes I am. And believe me, it’s going to be good.” With his gaze locked on hers, he braced one hand against the rough wood and leaned toward her. She smelled incredible, like vanilla and leather, and he paused to breathe her in. “Come on, just one.”

If she wanted to, she could walk away. In all his life, he’d never forced himself on a woman, and he wasn’t about to start now. But all of his instincts told him that she wanted this as much as he did.

Kayla licked her lips; her breasts brushed against his shirt with each rise and fall of her chest. Every muscle in Mason’s body tightened, and his hunger deepened to a craving. Slowly, so he could savor the moment, he bent his head and kissed her.

God, she tasted even better than he imagined. Sweet. Wild. Intoxicating. Her lips parted on a moan and he took the kiss deeper, darker, his fingers tangling into her hair to hold her head in place. She moaned again, her tongue teasing his, her fists grabbing onto his shoulders as if she needed help to keep standing.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop. He wanted more. Wanted everything. Heat flared, pulsing through his body, making him burn with the need to bury himself balls-deep inside her. He placed a hand on her hip and skimmed upward, not stopping until he cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her shirt. She arched her back, his name on her lips. Her body trembled with arousal.

Heart pounding, he nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between her hips. The feel of her pressed against the front of his pants made him just about lose his mind. Needing more, he moved his hand from her breast and popped the fly of her jeans. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband, and she let out a needy whimper that made his cock ache with anticipation.

In the corner of his mind, his reaction to Kayla registered as too intense. This wasn’t normal, not for him anyway. Everything inside him screamed to take her, to make love to her and claim her as his own. Holy shit, what the hell was happening to him? He’d never experienced anything like it before, and it totally rocked his world.

“Kayla! Mason! Supper’s ready in ten minutes!” Louise called out from the back porch.

With a gasp, Kayla shoved Mason so hard he stumbled back a couple of steps. Eyes wide, jaw slack, she pressed her fingers against her swollen lips, as if shocked by her own actions.

“I, uh...we...no.” She blinked twice and then shook her head. “Just no.”

Like a scalded cat, she darted around him and hurried toward the house.

*****

WHAT ON EARTH had gotten into her? Kayla berated herself as she slammed the door shut, stopping in the entryway long enough to peel off her half chaps and boots.

It wasn’t as if she were some stupid hormonal teenager. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake. One who knew a thing or two about relationships and how they could go horribly wrong. The last thing she needed right now was to get involved with the man intent on taking her property.

And yet her body still hummed from the memory of his kiss: so hot, and bold, and aggressive. Damn it, she could still feel his hand on her breast, sending liquid heat down to her core. If Louise hadn’t interrupted them, who knew how far things would have progressed?

She knew damn well what would have happened. Sparks of desire flashed through her body and goose bumps rose on her skin. Clearly, it had been too long since she’d last gotten laid if she reacted to Mason this strongly. He was so wrong for her on so many levels she didn’t even know where to begin. Besides, she had a farm to run and a sister to get through vet school, not to mention a wager to win.

With a shake of her head, she forced all thoughts of kissing Mason from her mind. A mouth-watering aroma lured her to the kitchen, where she found Louise bent in front of the stove, pulling a large ceramic-covered dish out of the oven.

“I hope you don’t mind chicken. It was the only thing thawed out.” Louise removed the lid, and the tangy scent of barbeque sauce wafted through the air. “I made macaroni and cheese to go with it.”

Mm. Comfort food. Just what she needed after a day like today. Kayla’s stomach rumbled, a reminder she hadn’t eaten in almost eight hours. She glanced down at her clothes, which were rumpled and dirt-stained. “Do I have time for a shower first?”

“Sure, as long as you make it quick. The chicken’s just about ready, but I can hold it off for a little while longer.” Louise covered the dish and put it back in the oven. When she turned to face Kayla, she frowned. “What’s wrong? Did Harlan throw you?”

The question caught her off guard. “Huh? No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look flustered.”

She wasn’t about to tell her sister that Mason had just kissed her senseless. “No, it’s just been a long day.” Which was true. She’d been up since four and had only stopped once to grab a quick bite to eat. And then there was the whole sordid mess of having to fire Pat. It was one of the reasons she’d taken Harlan out for a ride. Nothing settled her nerves and centered her mind like a good, long workout with the stallion.

Speaking of stallions, the back door swung open and Mason stepped inside. He must have left his boots on the porch because he only had socks on his feet. Tension rolled off his body in waves, and his hair stuck up in several directions as if he’d been running his hands through it. Guess she wasn’t the only one knocked off-balance by their encounter.

As he peered up, his dark gaze locked with hers, and her mouth went completely dry. There was no mistaking the wicked intent gleaming deep within his predatory eyes. One corner of his mouth tipped up—just a little, but it was enough to make him resemble a pirate who wanted to pillage and plunder. The sight sent a decadent shimmer through her body as slick heat pooled between her thighs.

“I was wondering where you went off to,” Louise said, and his head jerked in her direction. “Dinner will be on the table in ten if you want to clean up first.”

“Yeah.” He sounded distracted. “A shower sounds good right about now.” He blinked several times, as if he were coming out of a daze, but his focus remained riveted on Kayla. He dragged a hand through his tousled hair, making it appear even more disheveled.

Kayla coughed to clear her throat. “I, uh...I better go grab one as well.”

“Need any help?” Mason asked as she walked past him, the question loaded with so much innuendo it made her face flame and other parts tingle.

“No, I think I can manage.” She glanced in Louise’s direction to see whether she’d overheard the exchange. Luckily, she didn’t, too busy getting plates and glasses out of the kitchen cabinet to pay attention to their conversation.

Before Mason had the chance to say anything else, Kayla retreated to the safety of her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

*****

AFTER BOLTING DOWN dinner, Kayla drove straight to her bartending job at the Ancient Mariner. She was distracted all evening, screwing up several orders, and for once she’d been glad that business was slow so she could clock out a half hour early. By the time she got home, it was just after midnight, and her body felt heavy with exhaustion.

The house was pitch dark, with the exception of a crack of light under Mason’s door. Shoes in hand, she padded barefoot down the hallway, avoiding the spot by the bathroom door that creaked if you put any weight on it. If he knew she was home, he might want to talk, or worse, he might want to pick up where they’d left off. The notion filled her with a surprising longing, but she ruthlessly tamped it back down. No way was she letting that happen. She’d had her moment of insanity at the stable, but now she was firmly in control.

At the end of the hall, a shadow rippled underneath Mason’s door. Had he heard her come home? She froze where she stood. Not moving, not breathing, heart pounding, she watched the door until the shadow disappeared.

Quietly, she tiptoed into her bedroom and locked the door behind her. She flipped on the lights, and the sight of her queen-sized bed sent a wave of fatigue shuddering through her. After being awake for nearly twenty hours, she was running on nothing but fumes. Thankfully, she wasn’t scheduled to tend bar for the next two nights, and she couldn’t wait to catch up on her sleep.

And how sad was that? Twenty-nine years old, and getting a good night’s rest was the only thing she looked forward to.

Yawning, she crossed to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Work-eat-sleep-repeat. She’d been keeping this schedule for longer than she cared to admit, and with no end in sight, she was starting to feel like a hamster trapped on a wheel. If she could just win this bet, the mortgage would be paid, and she could finally afford to quit her bartending job.

The possibility lifted her spirits. Now all she had to do was make Mason miserable enough to throw in the towel.

Already, she saw lines of exhaustion etched into his handsome features. He obviously kept his body in great shape, but he wasn’t accustomed to working long hours of physical labor in the scorching Florida sun. Maybe, if she worked him a little bit harder, he’d give up by the end of the week.

Eyelids drooping, Kayla switched off the lights and stripped down to her T-shirt and panties. She crawled beneath the covers with hope in her heart, but when she drifted to sleep she dreamed of Mason touching her, tasting her, taking her, setting her body on fire with his mouth and his hands. Caressing her breasts, kissing her passionately, soothing the throbbing ache between her legs that grew more insistent with each passing moment.

When she awoke the next morning, she was drenched in sweat and even more determined to win their wager.

Chapter Nine

THE REST OF the week zipped by in a blur. Mason spent most of the time stripping, sanitizing, and re-bedding all of the stalls, hauling the old shavings out to the compost heap before putting fresh layers down. When he finished, Kayla had him inspect all of the fences and replace any boards that were weak or rotting.

With one job wearing him down physically and the other draining him mentally, he didn’t know how much longer he’d last. He was getting three or four hours of sleep each night, and it was only a matter of time before his body gave in to the crush of exhaustion.

The only time he felt truly energized was whenever Kayla was near. Something about her made his blood burn and brought all of his senses to life. It didn’t matter how tired he felt; just the sound of her voice was enough to keep him going for a few more hours.

And then there were times when he’d catch her watching him with what appeared to be interest in her eyes. Of course, when caught, she’d scowl and give him another long list of shit to take care of.

For the life of him, he didn’t know what to make of the feelings she stirred inside him. Deep. Hot. Unspeakably intense. In all his years, he’d never experienced anything quite like it. So until he finally figured it all out, he did whatever she told him to do and kept his focus on winning their wager.

He’d just finished cleaning and refilling the water troughs when he spotted Kayla walk into the stable. She led Fleetwood, a large black gelding, into the stall reserved for tacking up mounts.

Up to this point he’d never seen anyone riding the gelding. Maybe his owner was coming to visit and had asked Kayla to get the horse ready. No matter the reason, it wasn’t his business. But then he remembered something Kayla had said a few days ago, and a sense of dread snaked down his spine.

“Hey, Mason!” Kayla shouted as she clipped the gelding’s halter to the crossties. “I need Fleetwood’s saddle. It’s the black one on the bottom row of pegs, first one on the left. And while you’re at it, you might as well get his bridle. It’s under his nameplate on the rack.”

Following instructions, he set down the water bucket and went to the tack room. The saddle and bridle were exactly where she said they’d be, and he also picked out one of the larger girths because she’d probably send him back for one anyway.

When he reached the stall, Kayla had finished brushing Fleetwood and was in the process of cleaning his hooves. She was bent at the waist with her ass in the air, and the sight spurred all kinds of filthy scenarios in his mind.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Thanks. You can put those on the bench by the door. Don’t go anywhere, though. I’m going to need you in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” His suspicion mounted. “I was about to get the feed buckets ready.”

“Elliot’s taking care of that.” Mischief gleamed in her eyes as she grabbed a dark-blue saddle blanket and draped it over Fleetwood’s back. “Why don’t you put on his saddle? With him being so tall, I have a hard time doing it without a stool.”

Funny, she never had trouble getting a saddle on Harlan, and the thoroughbred was almost as tall as Fleetwood. Warily, he picked up the saddle and set it on the gelding’s back.

“Do you need help with the girth, or do you think you can handle it on your own?”

She snorted. “Well, since you’re offering, why don’t you take care of it while I put on his bridle?”

While he fastened the girth, she drew Fleetwood’s head down, removed the halter, and looped the reins over his head. In one swift motion, she slipped the bit into the horse’s mouth and slid the bridle over his head.

“Still working on the girth?” A little extra smart-ass crept into her voice.

Ignoring the question, he tugged a little harder, tightening the girth one final notch to make sure the saddle stayed in place. “Got it.”

“Good. Come with me.” She grinned. “My two thirty riding lesson called and canceled, so you get to take her place.”

Yep, that’s exactly what he thought she had in mind.

Resigned to his fate, Mason led the gelding out of the barn and over to the block of steps. The black horse was huge and powerfully built, with a muscular body and strong, sloping shoulders and hindquarters. His mane and tail were thick and wavy, with the tail nearly touching the ground. Kayla walked along the other side, looking way too eager for him to climb up onto the big behemoth. When they stopped, he checked the girth but wasn’t able to get it any tighter.

“He doesn’t hold his breath like Mingo does.” Kayla stood near Fleetwood’s head and held the reins. “Go ahead and get on the saddle.”

Mason glanced in her direction. “This probably isn’t a good idea. It’s been a long day, and I’m feeling kind of tired.”

She eyed him with open suspicion. “You aren’t afraid of riding a horse, are you?”

“Of course not.” Okay, maybe a little, but he’d rather die than admit it. He’d watched Louise get thrown just the other day, and if an experienced rider could get tossed off a horse, he didn’t think the odds were in his favor.

“Then mount up, Falco. Every person who works here has to ride at least once.”

Determined not to show any signs of weakness, he climbed the block steps and hoisted himself onto the saddle as if he actually knew what he was doing.

There, that wasn’t so bad. Fleetwood stood completely still, as if two hundred and fifteen pounds hadn’t just climbed onto his back. As Mason peered down, he slipped his feet into the stirrups so Kayla could adjust the length. From where he sat, he could see straight down her shirt, and the view of her cleavage left him a little lightheaded.

“How does that feel?” she asked.

How the hell should I know? he thought, but instead he just nodded and said, “Fine.”

“Okay, let’s see you hold the reins the way I showed you.”

“Like this?”

She made a face. “Close, but not quite. Remember, thumbs up.”

Oh, yeah. That’s right. He shifted his grip and she gave him a smile that warmed him from the inside out.

“Very good. Okay, let’s go to the ring.”

Walking alongside, she led them into the arena. For such a large animal, Fleetwood was surprisingly graceful, his gait so smooth Mason barely felt each shift in the horse’s muscles. As they circled the ring, Kayla instructed him on the proper posture, making sure his back was straight, his heels were down, and the balls of his feet were on the stirrup irons.

Now that he’d gotten used to being in the saddle, he started to enjoy the ride. He liked the feel of the wind on his face and the feel of the horse moving beneath him. In a way, it was like flying without wings. And, most important, it gave him an understanding as to why Kayla wouldn’t give up riding in spite of the damage to her spine.

“How old is Fleetwood?” Mason asked while he practiced how to post.

“Twenty-two, give or take, which is a little old for a Friesian.”

“Really? He doesn’t move like an old geezer.”

She smiled. “Well, we do our best to keep him active and healthy. We’ve had him here for about eight years, ever since his owner abandoned him.”

Her statement stunned him. “Someone just dumped him? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish I was.” Disgust crossed over her face. “His owner paid us for three months’ boarding and never came back. We tried calling, but her phone was disconnected, and the address she listed on the boarding app was bogus.”

He couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to an animal. Then again, his parents had done something similar to him and Shane, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Still, it pissed him off to think of anyone being so goddamn callous. “What a bitch.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” Reaching up, she patted the horse’s thick neck. “How do you feel up there? Comfortable?”

“I guess.”

She raised one brow, the challenge clear in her eyes. “You guess, or you know?”

“I know.”

“All right then, go ahead and ask him to trot. And don’t forget about posting.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out. Here goes nothing. Following the instructions that Kayla had given him earlier, he lightly squeezed his thighs against Fleetwood’s sides.

The horse took off at a brisk trot, and even though his gait was smooth, the movement caught Mason by surprise. Flying upward, he came back down hard against the saddle and landed smack on his groin. With a groan, he slumped toward the pommel as bolts of pain shot through his crotch.

“Whoa, Fleetwood!” he heard Kayla shout, and a few seconds later, he saw her staring up at him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Just dandy,” he said, his voice strained. He shifted in the saddle, but the change in position did nothing to ease his discomfort.

“You forgot to post.” Her face looked serious, but her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

He glared at her. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny. Really. It’s just—” She let out a sharp snort of laughter. “I can’t help it. Women are genetically programmed to laugh when we see that happen to a guy.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the sound of her phone’s ringtone cut her off. When she pulled it out of her pocket to check the number, anxiety strained her features. “Excuse me, I need to answer this.”

The pain in his groin gradually subsided while Kayla spoke on the phone. He tried not to eavesdrop on her conversation, but he couldn’t help it when he heard her exclaim, “That’s wonderful news! Would you like to pick them up, or would you prefer it if I brought them over?”

She shifted, turning toward him, and her face was alight with excitement. “Uh-huh. Yes. Yes, of course, we can do that, but it’ll cost an extra thousand plus boarding. Okay, great, we’ll start on it right away. I’ll check with Louise about a time frame and let you know. Do you have my email information? Excellent. Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow around eleven. Have a great evening.” As soon as she ended the call, she did a little fist pump. “Yes!”

“Good news, I assume?”

She practically vibrated with happiness as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “The Hoffmans decided to buy both horses. They want Ripley delivered to their stables Monday morning and Echo as soon as he’s fully saddle trained.”

He smiled. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t ask for better buyers. The Hoffmans take excellent care of their horses, and they’re willing to let Echo stay here at the farm until he’s completely comfortable with the saddle.”

“How long will that take?”

“I’m not sure. Louise has been working with him for the past couple weeks so I’ll have to check with her on his progress.”

Mason swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted. Together, they led Fleetwood into the stable and tethered him in one of the grooming stalls. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

Kayla shook her head as she unfastened the girth and slung it over her right shoulder. “I never celebrate until after the check clears.”

“Why not celebrate then as well?” Mason hoisted the saddle from Fleetwood’s back and followed Kayla into the tack room. As soon as he put the saddle back on its peg, he bridged the short distance between them. The need to kiss her rose in his blood, and he had no intention of letting the moment pass by. “Life’s too short not to enjoy the little things.”

Her lips parted, and she sucked in a breath as if she knew what he had in mind. “No. We can’t.”

“Why not? It’s real easy. Let me show you.” He dipped two fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. There was desire in her eyes, a hot, genuine hunger that made him hard in an instant. Anticipation thundered in his veins, his heart hammering like an eager teenager. Then her eyelids fluttered shut, and all thoughts evaporated from his mind as his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss.

*****

KAYLA CLUTCHED THE front of his shirt and twisted it tightly in her fist as his tongue stroked hers in a way that reminded her of raw sex. Something unleashed inside her, carnal and wild, and a needy sound rose up in her throat as she met him stroke for stroke.

His taste was addicting.

Erotic.

And everything she’d been missing for so damn long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had turned her on so fast. Actually, she wasn’t sure it had ever happened at all. Sure, she’d been with other guys before, but she couldn’t think of another instance where a man had affected her so strongly.

The world around her melted away, and for that glorious moment all she felt were his lips, his hands. His desire. She let out a moan of surrender as his mouth ravaged hers with an intensity that left her breathless. It triggered a need, and the need sparked a hunger as spears of lust tore through her body and burned away the last shreds of her inhibition.

He slipped one hand under her shirt, skimmed over her bare stomach, and cupped her lace-covered breast. In an instant, he pulled down one of the cups and brushed his thumb across her sensitive nipple. A jolt of heat shot straight to her core, and she instinctively arched against him.

Mason growled; his mouth worked magic on her neck while his fingers set her on fire. She whimpered, her head falling back against the wall as his touch turned her brain into mush. His arm tightened around her, pulling her lower body against him, and the feel of his erection pressed against her belly made it obvious what he wanted. And at that moment, she wanted it too, wanted to feel his cock pounding deep inside her, driving them both to oblivion.

But in a flash, her pleasure turned into panic at the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot. It was enough to snap her back to her senses, reminding her why this was wrong. Why they were wrong. How could she possibly think about giving herself to a man who wanted to bulldoze her family’s farm?

“No. Stop!”

Eyes heavy-lidded, he pulled his head back and shot her a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer. Mortified by her actions, she shoved him away and tugged her clothes back into place. Unable to meet his gaze, she rushed out of the tack room and into the stable.

Mason’s footsteps thudded close behind. “Wait. Talk to me, Kayla. What’s wrong?”

Quickly, she scanned the area to make sure they were completely alone. Once she was certain they had privacy, she whirled around to face him. “I can’t do this.”

The confusion on his face gave way to irritation. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. A few heartbeats passed while she stared up at him, desperately trying to untangle the knot of conflicting emotions inside her. When she finally forced the words from her mouth, her voice sounded small and unsure to her own ears. “How can I know you’re not just doing this as some kind of end game for winning the bet?”

His frown tightened to a scowl. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, is that what you think this is? Some kind of diversionary tactic?”

She squared her shoulders, even though uncertainty gnawed at her insides. “Is it?”

“Of course not.” In two long strides, he closed the distance between them, moving deep within her personal space. The masculine scent of him wrapped around her, invaded her senses, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he demanded. “From the moment we met, I’ve been in a constant state of arousal. If I don’t have you soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

The shock of his words rendered her momentarily speechless. Not because they surprised her, but because she felt the exact same way. When she finally found her voice, she asked, “What do you want from me?”

The smoldering heat in his eyes nearly set her on fire. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Is there a problem?” a man asked from the entrance of the tack room.

Kayla froze. She knew that voice. She twisted her neck toward the sound, and for a moment, her heart stopped beating.

Chapter Ten

MASON STARED AT the guy who stood in the doorway, trying to remember where he’d seen him before and wondering how much of their conversation he’d overheard.

He was taller than Mason, around six foot four, and built like a fucking bulldozer. He wore scuffed, brown combat boots, low-slung jeans, and a dark-green T-shirt that did absolutely nothing to conceal his muscular frame. Dark stubble framed his square jaw. His skin was tanned, as if he’d spent a lot of time in the sun, and his brown hair was buzzed close to his head in a cut that screamed military. But it wasn’t just the haircut that gave him away. There was a ruggedness about him that commanded respect and probably intimidated the hell out of most people.

“Carter!” Kayla rushed past Mason and practically launched herself into her brother’s arms.

He lifted her off the ground and spun her in a circle, the hard planes of his face softening into an expression of absolute joy.

There was a photo of Carter in Mason’s file, but the middle child of the Phillips family had changed a lot in the five years since the picture was taken. For starters, he’d packed on a hell of a lot of muscle. And gone were the chubby cheeks and long hair, replaced with an edge that most likely came from seeing too much while on active duty.

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe you’re here.” Kayla’s voice shot up about an octave. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

Carter shrugged after setting her down, a smile still lighting his mouth. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” His deep voice carried a smooth Southern drawl that probably went over well with the ladies.

“Well, mission accomplished, you big lug.” She playfully swatted his shoulder. “How long are you here for?”

The smile on her brother’s face dimmed. “My flight leaves at eight tomorrow night. I wasn’t supposed to have leave at all, but...well, it’s kind of complicated.”

“It’s okay. The only thing that matters is you’re here.” If she was disappointed, she didn’t let it show. Still grinning like she’d just won the lottery, she pulled back a little and looked him over. “Good Lord, you’ve gotten huge. What are they feeding you over there?”

“The same crap they feed everyone else. By the way, thanks again for all those care packages. The guys in my unit wanted me to thank you as well.” His gaze slanted in Mason’s direction, the question plain on his face.

Kayla turned toward Mason. A flash of nerves skittered over her features, but she quickly covered them up. “Carter, this is Mason Falco. He started here about a week ago.”

Interesting, how she didn’t mention the bet or what would happen when she lost. Although he couldn’t blame her—it would take a hell of a lot of explaining, and the guy was probably under enough stress already.

“Nice to meet you.” Carter extended his hand.

“Likewise.” They shook, and if Mason didn’t know better, he’d swear Carter was trying to break his fingers. Mason returned the favor, squeezing just as hard, and earned a nod of acknowledgment from Carter.

“If y’all don’t mind,” Carter said after releasing his grip, “I’m going to head up to the house. My flight was over fourteen hours long, and I’m dying for a shave and a shower.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “Um...Mason’s staying in your room. Why don’t you go ahead and take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch tonight?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mason cut in. “I can’t take the man’s room while he’s here. I’ll move out to the couch.”

Carter made a dismissive gesture. “I’m not tossing anyone out of their beds. It’s just for one night. I’ll be fine.”

“But I’m a lot smaller—”

“I’m not arguing with you, sis. Trust me, after eight months in the rough, the couch will feel like heaven.” Bending down, he picked up his overstuffed rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. His gaze connected with Mason’s for a long moment before it returned to Kayla. “Don’t tell Louise I’m here. I want to surprise her too.”

*****

“IF I’D KNOWN you were coming, I could have planned something better for dinner,” Kayla said for what had to be the hundredth time. There were so many things she wanted to talk to her brother about, but with him being here for barely a day, she’d decided not to bring any of them up for fear of ruining the visit. She slathered the hamburger buns with butter and toasted them on a skillet. “I could have gone to Publix and picked up some steaks to grill, or maybe some salmon—”

“Will you stop it?” Carter set the beans and corn bread on the table before going to the fridge for a beer. With his free hand, he scratched Spanky behind the ears, and the big dog’s tail thumped against the kitchen cabinet. “I’ve been living on nothing but field rations for months. Besides, I love the way you make pulled pork.”

It was their grandmother’s recipe, but over the years she’d made a few adjustments here and there. She omitted the thyme, and added extra brown sugar and a few more cloves of garlic. She’d popped it in the slow cooker first thing that morning, and by late afternoon the entire house had filled with the mouth-watering aroma.

Once she finished shredding the pork, she placed the plate at the center of the table and did a quick inventory to make sure she hadn’t missed anything: meat, buns, coleslaw, corn bread, baked beans, and BBQ sauce. Yep, all set.

“Louise, Mason, supper’s ready!” she called out and then smiled at Carter. “She still doesn’t know you’re here, right?”

“Right.” He’d hidden his rucksack in Kayla’s room and stayed out of sight when Louise came in at the end of the day. Beer in hand, he rested an elbow against the counter, excitement plain on his face.

“Damn, that smells good.” Louise’s footsteps sounded down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I hope you made at least ten pounds of that, because I’m so frigging hungry—” She stopped dead in her tracks at the entryway and let out a shriek when she caught sight of her brother. Eyes wide and unblinking, she covered her mouth with both hands and burst into tears.

“Aw, hell. Don’t cry.” Carter crossed the room and gathered her into his arms. “I only wanted to surprise you.”

“Yeah...well...ya big jerk.” Laughing and crying at the same time, Louise wrapped her arms around Carter’s torso and buried her face in her chest.

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and a second or two later, Mason charged into the room. He looked delicious in a pair of fresh Levi’s and a white T-shirt, and his hair was wet from the shower. “Is everything all right? I heard a scream.”

Ignoring the sharp, insistent pull of attraction, Kayla jerked a thumb in Carter’s direction. “Jarhead thought it would be funny to shave a few years off Louise’s life.”

Carter’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, watch it, Short Stack. That’s Sergeant Jarhead to you.”

“Short Stack?” Brows raised, Mason looked as if he was fighting hard to hold back a laugh.

Heat crept up Kayla’s neck and into her cheeks. If her brother were closer, she would have cuffed the back of his head for embarrassing her in front of company. “It’s an old nickname from when we were kids. He’s the only one who gets away with calling me that, so don’t get any bright ideas.”

Carter glanced down at Louise, whose arms were still wrapped around his waist. “You better not be blowing your nose on my shirt.”

Still sniffling, Louise swiped at the tears on her cheeks as she pushed back far enough to peer up at him. “It serves you right for making me cry.”

Kayla clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, now that the excitement’s over, let’s eat before everything gets cold.”

It had been a long time since they’d last had this many people at the house for dinner, and the sight made Kayla’s heart swell with happiness. She missed having a noisy house with all of its loosely contained chaos. Everyone took a seat at the table and before long, the room was filled with chatter and laughter as they dug into the feast she’d made.

“Oh, God,” Carter moaned between bites of his pulled pork sandwich. The dog was lying behind his chair, waiting for a scrap to hit the floor. “It’s even better than I remembered. The guys in my unit are going to be jealous when I tell them all about it.”

Kayla grinned from ear to ear. It felt so good, so right, to have him home, even if it was just for a day. She didn’t want to think about him going back into danger, so she shoved the unpleasant reality aside. “Well, don’t be shy about going back for more. We don’t have long to fatten you up.”

“What do you mean?” Louise’s pale eyebrows scrunched together. “When are you leaving?”

A flicker of panic crossed Carter’s face. It was funny how the big, bad Marine shrank at the prospect of upsetting his baby sister. He’d been that way ever since they were kids, and it tickled Kayla to see that some things never changed.

Ignoring the question, Carter focused his attention on Mason. “So how’d you end up working at the farm?”

“They didn’t tell you about the bet?” Louise blurted out before Mason had a chance to answer the question.

Carter’s tanned forehead wrinkled with confusion. “What bet?”

Oh, shit. Kayla kicked Louise beneath the table while she spared a glance in Mason’s direction. Their gazes met, the question clear in his eyes, and she replied with a quick shake of her head before turning her attention back to her brother.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she told Carter, hoping to avoid a family blowup. She picked up the breadbasket and held it out toward him. “Would you like some more corn bread?”

“No, I want to hear about this bet.”

“I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.”

The planes of Carter’s face hardened into a scowl that was surely meant to intimidate. “You’ll tell me all about it right now.”

An uneasy silence fell over the room, broken only by the persistent ticking of the clock on the wall by the door. Carter and Kayla glared at each other, each waiting for the other to blink.

Slowly, Kayla rose from her seat, her hands braced against the table. No way was she letting her little brother push her around. This was her house now, and if he wanted to stay here, he was going to respect her rules. Keeping her voice low and even, she said, “You might get away with that tone in the Marines, but I won’t stand for it in this house.”

Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty.

Averting his eyes, Carter slumped back in his chair. At least he had the good grace to act sheepish. “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. But I’m still a member of this family, and I have a right to know what’s going on.”

Mason opened his mouth to say something but Kayla cut him off.

“Eat your dinner. We’ll talk later.”

*****

“WHAT THE HELL were you thinking?” Carter snapped the second Kayla finished speaking.

She’d taken her brother for a walk through the paddocks after dinner, where she told him all about Falco Enterprise’s offers to buy the farm, her repeated refusals, and the events leading up to her wager with Mason.

And after a long, hard day of busting her ass, she wasn’t in the mood for her brother’s second-guessing. She jerked up her chin and met Carter’s steely glare. “Don’t you get it? The loan fell through. If I don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before we end up in foreclosure. This is our only chance of saving the farm.”

Carter’s posture was stiff, the lines of his face set in a mulish expression. Spanky trotted close to his side, and he reached down to give the dog a quick scratch behind the ears. “I don’t like this, Kayla. I don’t like it one fucking bit. Who’s to say he’ll even keep his end of the bargain if he loses? Just say the word; I’ll get rid of him tonight.”

“No, please don’t do that.” Kayla rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’m a big girl, Carter. I can handle it.”

With his lips pressed tight in disapproval, Carter made a rude noise that said exactly what he thought of her abilities. “Oh, yeah? And what if you lose? Are you prepared to give up the farm?”

The possibility made her cringe inside. And considering Mason had already lasted a week, the prospect was closer to becoming a reality. Still, she bristled at her brother’s critical tone. How dare he pass judgment on her when he’d joined the Marines and hadn’t bothered to tell anyone until the day before he left for basic training?

Her emotions boiled over as she rounded on him. “Why do you even care? You’ve been gone for over four years! The only time we know you’re alive is when you send a goddamn email. Four years! You packed your bags and bailed on us without so much as an explanation.”

His nostrils flared as he folded his arms over his chest. “Just because I love my country doesn’t mean I don’t love my family.”

“Then why’d you leave like that? You barely gave us enough time to say good-bye.” Tears blurred her vision. Tears of frustration, and worry, and a million other things she refused to even think about. She blinked them back and dug her fingers into her palms, determined not to break down in front of her brother.

Face flushed, he looked everywhere but at her. He bent down to pick up a stick and tossed it across the paddock for Spanky to fetch. “I...I had my reasons.”

“Yeah, same here.”

A warm breeze ruffled Kayla’s hair. Turning away, she leaned against the wood fence and propped one dirt-scuffed boot on the bottom slat. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, willing her nerves to settle. The sun had just dipped below the tree line, painting the sky in a vivid burst of pinks and oranges. She heard Carter’s boot steps come up behind her, and a second later he laid his large, callused hand on top of her shoulder.

“One of these days, I’ll explain why I left, but I’m not ready to do it just yet.” He sighed, suddenly sounding exhausted. “It’s your decision, and even though I don’t like it, I’ll respect whatever you choose to do. But keep in mind, if you want, I’ll rip his lungs out for you.”

She couldn’t help it; she laughed. She placed her hand on top of his, and the simple connection melted some of the tension that knotted her muscles. “Thanks, but I don’t think it’s going to come to that.”

“Just putting it out there.” He hesitated for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

She rolled her eyes while her stomach lurched. “Oh, and how’s that?”

“Like he’s starving, and you’re his next meal.”

Everything inside her clenched at the thought, and she fought hard not to let it show on her face. “Relax. I can handle it.”

“I hope so. You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right.” He pulled her back against his chest and gave her a quick hug. “Be careful around him. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

If it happened, he wouldn’t be around to see it, but she didn’t bother pointing the fact out. “I will. Thanks, little brother.”

“No problem.” Standing beside her, Carter leaned against the fence and together they watched the sky gradually darken. They stayed that way for the longest time, until he nudged her with his elbow and bent his head down toward her. “I love you, sis.”

Her heart warmed. “I love you too.”

Chapter Eleven

AFTER DINNER, MASON holed up in his room and reviewed the documents for a deal in San Diego that could be even more lucrative than the project in Dubai. From down the hall, he heard the sound of chatter and laughter as Kayla and Louise shared quality time with their brother for the first time since he’d left for the Marines.

Guilt nipped at Mason’s conscience, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the sensation. Why should he feel bad when the family would be richly compensated for the deed to their property?

Because the farm is like a member of their family, said the nagging voice inside his head.

He tried again but couldn’t force the thought from his mind. A week on the farm had shown him just how much it meant to Kayla. This was more than just a piece of property to her. It was her life, her memories, and her family’s history. And while money could buy another plot of land, maybe even a better one, she’d be losing a piece of what had shaped her into the woman she’d become.

Around eleven, after finally finishing his work, he powered up his phone and called his brother.

“Kind of late to be calling, Farmer Falco,” Shane said when he answered.

Mason ignored the dig. He wouldn’t have called if he thought it was too late, and experience had taught him that Shane never went to bed until at least two in the morning. “I need you to run a cost analysis.”

“Sure. What for?”

“The Whispering Oaks project. I want to know the estimated profitability if we revise the plans to exclude the Phillips property.”

Silence. “You can’t be serious.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t,” Mason replied, putting a little extra don’t-fuck-with-me into his voice. “How soon can you get me the results?”

Shane huffed on the other end of the line. Even as a kid, he’d never been the type to handle change very well. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to switch gears this late in the game? I can tell you right now it won’t be profitable. That parcel was earmarked for commercial development. If we make any changes to the blueprints at this point, we risk defaulting on the contracts we’ve already signed.”

He had a feeling Shane was going to say that. But he’d run into this type of situation in the past, most recently with a Baptist church who refused to relocate their parish. To play hardball would have invited a ton of bad press, and in the end, they’d worked around the parcel and still managed to keep the project in the black.

“In that case, factor renegotiations into the costs. I’ve done business with most of the companies involved, so we shouldn’t have to make too many concessions. Tell the designers to shift the commercial parcels to the eastern side and make the residential lots a little smaller to compensate for the loss of acreage.”

The sound of keyboard typing came over the line. “I take it this means things aren’t going well on the farm?”

“They’re going fine. I’m just trying to figure a way to make everyone happy. Now how soon can you get me the numbers?”

“You? Make everyone happy?” Shane barked out a laugh. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me country living made you soft. What’s the real reason? Is it because of the Phillips woman? What’s her name again? Kimmy? Kaley?”

“Kayla.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you nail her already? Please say yes. I’ve got a few bills riding on it.”

Mason’s temper flared. “Will you two knock it off with the bets already? You’re professionals, for Christ’s sake. Start acting like it.”

He should have put an end to the wagers a long time ago, but it hadn’t really bothered him until now. Maybe he finally realized how damn ridiculous it was, or maybe it was because he found it insulting to treat Kayla like nothing more than an object to be conquered. Either way, he intended to stop the practice, right here, right now.

Shane let out a low whistle. “Damn, you’re getting cranky in your old age. Maybe you’re not getting lucky after all.”

Patience exhausted, Mason gripped his phone so tightly it was a wonder the casing didn’t crack. “Just run the numbers and send me the results. I want them by tomorrow afternoon. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Not a problem, boss man. I’ll send the report by the end of the day.”

*****

THE NEXT MORNING, the alarm clock sounded more like a buzz saw, and Mason drank damn near a whole pot of coffee before he finally made it out the door.

Elliot called in sick and Ashley had class, leaving Mason to complete the stable chores alone. Thankfully, Carter helped him turn out the horses before going off with Louise to work on saddle training Echo.

In a way, he appreciated the solitude that came with working by himself in the stables. Contrary to the hectic pace of his office, the farm gave him time to think things through and contemplate the consequences of his actions.

And to be honest, some of those consequences were starting to gnaw at him. He didn’t rise to the top through kindness and generosity, but the thought of what his actions might do to Kayla didn’t sit well with his conscience.

It was just past one when Mason returned from the house for a quick bite to eat. Already, his back ached and his fingers were sore from mucking so many stalls. But the afternoon chores wouldn’t be as physically demanding, and after work he could review the cost analysis Shane had sent him about an hour ago.

As he passed one of the empty stalls, a pair of hands reached out, grabbed his left arm, jerked him inside the stall, and slammed him against the boards hard enough to make his teeth rattle. Before he had the chance to gain his bearings, he found himself staring into the battle-hardened eyes of Carter Phillips.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with Kayla?” he growled.

“Nothing that’s any of your damn business.”

“Wrong answer.” Carter dragged him a few inches away from the wall and smacked him back against the boards. “It’s my goddamned business when my sister’s involved. Now start talking before I lose my patience and show you how hard I can hit.”

Judging by Carter’s steely expression, he had every intention of carrying out the threat. And although Mason knew how to take care of himself, he doubted he’d be able to hold his own against a man with extensive military training. That said, he wasn’t about to be bullied. He jerked free of the other man’s grip.

Hands clenched at his sides, Mason met the Marine’s furious glare. “I like your sister, okay? I like her a lot. And I’m pretty sure she feels the same way. If you want to know more, you’re going to have to ask her.”

Carter’s lips peeled back in a snarl. “How can you pretend to care about her while you’re trying to force her to sell the farm? Do you have any idea how much this place means to her?”

“I didn’t know when I made the bet, but I do now.” Irritated and frustrated, Mason raked his hands through his hair. “Believe me when I say I’m doing everything I can to do right by her.”

Carter studied him like an insect pinned to a corkboard, a cool, calculated expression playing over his chiseled features. There was something in his eyes, something dark and haunted, like he’d already seen too much in his short life and knew he’d be seeing a lot more. Finally, he gave a curt nod and his posture relaxed a fraction.

“We’re good, as long as you treat her well. But if I find out you’ve hurt her in any way...” His voice trailed off. His eyes narrowed. “Hire the best bodyguards money can buy. It won’t matter. I’ll tear you apart, and they’ll never find what’s left of you.”

*****

THE DAY SEEMED to go by in the blink of an eye, and before Kayla knew it, it was time to drive Carter to the airport. Her heart clenched as she watched him say good-bye to Louise, lifting her clear off the ground when he hugged her.

“Behave yourself, brat,” he said as he set her down.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Louise laughed, but her eyes were red and puffy, and everyone pretended not to notice.

Carter looked at Mason, and something wordless passed between them that Kayla didn’t know how to interpret. They shook hands briefly, and Mason nodded before the two men broke contact.

“You ready?” Even though she didn’t want to, Kayla opened the door of the pickup and slid behind the wheel. Carter’s flight was scheduled to depart at eight fifteen. He’d need at least an hour to get through the security nightmare at the airport, and they couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

After petting Spanky and giving Louise one final hug, Carter climbed into the truck. Face blank, he fastened his seat belt as Kayla steered them away from the house. He was quiet—too quiet, as if something was bothering him but he didn’t know how to voice his concerns.

She had a pretty good idea what they were.

“You might as well spit it out,” Kayla said as she merged onto the expressway. With traffic, the drive to the airport would take close to an hour, plenty of time to clear the air between them.

Carter stared down at the floorboards for nearly a full minute before he spoke. “What are your feelings for Falco?”

The question didn’t surprise her. He’d been giving Mason the big hairy eyeball ever since the moment they met. But the last thing Carter needed was to worry about her, so she lied and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “God, you’ve always been such a lousy liar. Tell me the truth, sis. I can’t afford to be worrying about this shit while I’m gone.”

Wow, talk about a guilt trip. With her grip tight around the wheel, she darted a glance in his direction. “Why do you think the truth will make you worry less?”

He shrugged. “It probably won’t, but at least my imagination won’t get the best of me.”

Kayla slowed to a stop at the toll plaza and tossed a few quarters into the bucket. The light turned green, and she picked up speed to merge back into traffic. Another ten or so miles and they’d reach the airport, and who knew how long it would be before she saw her brother again. There was always the chance he wouldn’t come home alive, and the chilling possibility never failed to make her sick to her stomach.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between us,” she finally said. She’d never had this kind of conversation with her brother, and it made her extremely uncomfortable. Eyes on the road, she shifted gears and passed a slow-moving Honda. “I—he makes me feel things I haven’t felt for anyone in a really long time.”

Now that she’d actually put words to the way she was feeling, it was a relief to get them off her chest.

Carter made a low noise in his throat. “I hope he isn’t anything like Joshua.”

She could have sworn her heart stopped for an instant, and she damn near drove off the road. “You know about Joshua?”

“Who do you think broke his jaw?”

Kayla felt the blood drain from her face. “Holy shit, that was you?”

Carter laughed, but the sound lacked humor. “Bastard had it coming for what he did.”

That might explain why the asshole withdrew from classes and transferred to a university clear across state. For a few short months in her junior year, she’d thought he truly cared about her. It had hurt to learn that his affections were only a ploy to get her into bed.

But then she’d found out about the hidden video recorder in his room, and how he’d shared their most intimate moments with his fraternity brothers, who in turn shared it with all their friends. The betrayal had stung, leaving her feeling so cheap and humiliated she’d withdrawn from her classes that semester. Her sense of trust had been damaged, if not completely destroyed, and ever since then she’d made a point of never giving a man enough power to hurt her.

After checking for vehicles, she eased to the right and took the exit for the Orlando International Airport. Traffic was heavy, but she managed to angle the truck into the lane for Terminal B.

“Any idea when we’ll see you again?” she asked.

Carter didn’t answer right away, as if debating whether to let her change the subject. “You know I can’t give out time frames,” he said at last. “I’ll shoot you an email when I get settled in, but I don’t know how soon that’ll be.”

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. “Fair enough.”

Heart heavy, she pulled into the lane reserved for dropping off passengers. If given the choice, she would have parked the truck and walked with him to the security checkpoint, but Carter insisted on doing it this way. It might be quicker, but it didn’t make his departure any less painful.

She put the truck into neutral and engaged the emergency brake. When she twisted in her seat to face Carter, her vision blurred. Crap, no stopping it now. The dam had broken, and tears spilled out in a noisy snuffle.

“Aw, shit.” Carter leaned across the console and gathered her into his arms. The faint scent of soap and aftershave enveloped her senses as he rubbed circles up and down her back. “Don’t get all mushy on me now. You’re the strong one, remember?”

It was hard to be strong when she had no idea where he was going, what he’d be doing, or when—if—she’d see him again. And it would always be like this until he either left the Marines voluntarily or came home in a wooden box.

“I’m not as strong as you think.” She tried to say more, but it came out as a blubbering sob.

“Are you kidding me? You fought your way out of a fucking wheelchair. I know Marines who can’t pull that shit off.”

“That was a long time ago.” She pulled herself together with a sniff. “I’m sorry. I can’t help worrying about you. Promise you’ll come back in one piece?”

“I’ll do my best, but you know I can’t make any promises.” He sighed, his arms squeezing her so tightly she thought her ribs might crack. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, all right?”

She nodded and leaned back far enough to see his face. “Stay safe. I love you, little brother.”

“I love you, too, Short Stack.”

She swatted his arm, and he laughed.

The smile dropped from his face as he bent to pick his rucksack off the floor. Darkness flickered in his deep-brown eyes, but then he blinked and it was gone. “Don’t let him break your heart, sis. It’s a pain you’ll never forget.”

He saluted her before he got out of the truck, and then he strode through the automatic double doors and disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter Twelve

YOU COULD LEARN a lot about a man’s true nature by watching him interact with animals.

Kayla stood on the back porch, drinking a can of Pepsi. From there, she could see almost all of the paddocks and the main entrance to the stable. The view also afforded her the opportunity to study Mason while he brought in the horses for the night.

Even with the cloud cover, temperatures hovered in the mid-nineties, and his dark-brown hair was soaked with sweat. Dressed in low-slung jeans, a hunter green shirt, and filthy cowboy boots, he looked the same as he did every day.

Hot. Masculine. And sexy as hell.

One by one, he walked each animal out of the paddocks and down the dirt path that led to the stable. He never got angry if they shied away from their halters or resisted leaving the freedom of their paddocks. Instead, he surprised her by exercising infinite patience, never making sudden movements or loud, angry noises, but carefully coaxing each one to bend to his will.

He was especially gentle with Ginger, the young pregnant mare, who was becoming more temperamental by the minute. When he approached the horse, he rubbed a hand along her shoulder and murmured something Kayla couldn’t make out. Deftly, he slid the halter over Ginger’s nose and placed the crownpiece behind her ears. Ginger nickered, and he rubbed the mare’s muzzle before he led her through the open paddock gate.

A week ago, she never would have imagined him being so good with the animals. She’d considered him cold, calculating, and ruthless. And although she still viewed him that way when it came to business, he’d proved her wrong on the farm. Sure, he’d been pretty awkward at first, but with each passing day he’d grown more accustomed to his surroundings, and a different side of him rose to the surface that warmed something deep inside her.

The back door creaked open, and Louise stepped outside and crossed to where Kayla stood. She was dressed to kill in a skintight red mini dress and a matching pair of impossibly high heels. Her long blonde hair fell down her back in loose curls, and for once, her short nails were painted.

“Heading out with the girls?” Kayla asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Yeah, they should be here in a few. I’ll give you a call if I decide to crash at Crystal’s.”

Louise and a few of her fellow students were celebrating the end of the grueling summer semester. From what Kayla had seen and heard, they’d busted their butts to make it through animal physiology with their sanity intact. Just one more semester, and her baby sister would graduate with a bachelor’s degree in biology. It made Kayla proud, but it also made her a little sad. If things went according to Louise’s plans, she’d start veterinary school soon afterward, leaving Kayla alone at the farm.

Mason walked past with Ginger, giving them a slight nod as he moved toward the stable. Usually, his long strides were much faster, but he’d slowed them to accommodate the mare’s lumbering gait. His eyes caught hers for an instant, and her pulse kicked up a notch.

“You two aren’t going to kill each other while I’m gone, are you?” Louise asked.

Kayla snorted, a part of her happy to know that Louise hadn’t picked up on her attraction to Mason the way Carter had. “Don’t worry. If it’s like every other night, he’ll shut himself up in his room while I go to bed before ten o’clock.” Actually, it might be closer to eleven. With Ginger so close to birthing her foal, Kayla planned to check the stable every hour or two before finally calling it a night.

A horn honked out front, and Louise grinned. “There’s my ride. Gotta run. I’ll see you later.”

“All right, have fun. Call me if you need a ride or bail money.”

After watching her sister hurry into the house, she shifted her attention back to the stable. Ominous dark clouds rumbled overhead, promising rain before the evening was over. A short time later, Mason exited through the large rolling door. He pulled it shut and snapped on the lock before heading toward the back porch. The boards creaked under his weight as he walked up the old wooden steps. He stopped less than a foot from where she stood, so close she could see the pulse beating at his throat and the smudges of fatigue under his eyes.

“Anything else you need me to do?” he asked, the deep resonance of his voice pouring over her like a caress.

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the way her heart pounded whenever he was near. “No, you’re good for the night. There’s stew in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Like there was any question about that. The man just worked a twelve-hour shift with only a short break for lunch. He was probably hungry enough to eat cardboard.

Mason’s mouth curved up on one side. He hadn’t shaved since the night before, and a day’s growth shadowed his jaw. A different kind of hunger filled his blue eyes, so intense it made her knees weak. “I’m starving. Do I get dessert too?”

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. For the past couple of days, she’d been using Louise as a buffer. But with her sister out of the house, she’d have to find another way to resist the urge to tear off his clothes and ride him like a bucking bronco. Steeling her resolve, she cocked a hand on her hip and forced an edge into her voice.

“Snacks are in the pantry. You’re welcome to whatever’s in there.” Pivoting on her heel, she strode toward the kitchen door, afraid she’d lose control if she didn’t put some distance between them. With her hand on the knob, she shot him a glance over her shoulder. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office catching up on paperwork.”

*****

THE STORM FINALLY broke around eight, unleashing sheets of rain and thunder so loud it shook the walls of the house. Cracks of lightning illuminated the sky, and by some miracle, they never lost power. When the rain finally slowed a couple of hours later, Kayla ventured outside to check the horses.

Dodging puddles, she ran from the house to the stable and unlocked the rolling door. Once inside, she pulled back the hood of her raincoat and flicked on the overhead lights. This late, most of the horses were asleep in their stalls, and the building was eerily quiet. Not that she blamed them. She was exhausted as well, but she wanted to check on things one last time before she crawled beneath the covers and called it a night.

Her boot heels thudded against the concrete as she walked between the rows of stalls. A puddle had formed outside the wash stalls, reminding her that she still needed to fix the leak in the roof. Maybe tomorrow, if she had enough time, she’d climb up there and assess the damage. Hopefully it would be an easy fix and she wouldn’t have to call the handyman.

She glanced inside each stall as she passed, and as she neared the far end of the barn, she heard an anxious whinny from Ginger. Concerned, Kayla pulled the stall door open to give the pregnant mare a closer inspection.

Ginger was pacing, pawing the ground, her huge belly swaying with every step. Her entire body was covered in sweat. Eyes wide, she let out a long, shuddering nicker, and then twisted her neck around and stared back at her protruding belly.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Kayla murmured as she brushed a hand along the mare’s warm flank. The muscles contracted beneath her fingertips, and the mare made a sound of discomfort. “Looks like it’s time for your baby to meet the world.”

For her, the imminent arrival of a foal was both an exciting and nerve-racking time. Most mares gave birth without any complications, but there was always the chance of something going wrong, and the possibility twisted her stomach in knots.

Leaving the stall, she went to the washroom and gathered the supplies needed to assist in the birthing process. She’d prepared the kit a few weeks ahead of time so she wouldn’t have to run around like a maniac when the moment arrived. Kit in hand, she returned to the stall to find Ginger still pacing. Quickly and carefully, she taped up the mare’s tail and cleaned the vulva and udders. Thankfully, the mare didn’t try to bite or kick, as if realizing that Kayla was trying to help her.

As soon as she finished, Kayla powered up her phone and called Louise. When the call went directly to voice mail, she left a quick message, telling Louise that Ginger was in labor and asking her to come home right away.

Shit, what now? She needed someone to assist her if complications arose. Normally, her sister filled that role, but knowing Louise, she wouldn’t bother checking her messages until one or two in the morning. Not to mention, she’d probably downed a few drinks already, and a tipsy Louise wouldn’t be helpful.

That left only one other person who could help. With a sigh, she exited the stall and ran to the house. As she expected, she found Mason in his room, stretched out on the bed with his back against the headboard, typing away on his laptop. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and his feet were bare. His jaw was freshly shaved.

With the earbuds in, he probably couldn’t hear a damn thing, but he must have caught her movements because his gaze flicked up over the laptop screen to where she stood. Reaching up, he pulled the buds from his ears. “What’s up?”

“I need your help in the stable. Right now.”

A questioning expression narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”

“Ginger’s in labor. I need an extra set of hands in case something goes wrong with the foal.”

All the color drained from his face. “Um, I don’t know anything about—”

“It’s not rocket science.” Straining for patience, she blew out a sigh and rubbed a hand along the back of her neck. “Look, I don’t have time to argue. I need help, and since Louise isn’t around, that leaves you. Now will you help me or what?”

He studied her for a moment or two, his lips pressed tight together. But then he folded his laptop shut, got up, and grabbed his phone from the dresser. “What do you need me to do?”

“Follow me.”

After he shoved his bare feet into a pair of running shoes, they hurried back to the barn, where Ginger was still pacing in her stall. The mare stopped long enough to kick at her abdomen before she resumed her restless shuffling.

“What happened to her tail?” Mason asked.

“Nothing. I bandaged it to keep the foal from picking up any dirt on the way out the birth canal.”

With a snort, the mare pawed at the deep layer of straw put down to keep mother and foal comfortable. The sides above her flanks appeared to have caved in a little more, a sign that the foal was shifting position in order to slide through the birth canal. But it could be minutes, or maybe even hours, before the foal finally introduced itself to the world.

“What do we do now?” Mason asked, still looking a little pale.

“Not much we can do but watch and wait. She’ll do all the hard work. We’re just here to help in case there’s a problem.” She ushered him out of the stall but left the gate partly open. “But don’t be obvious about it or you might agitate her.”

They stood outside the stall, glancing inside every minute or two to check the mare’s progress.

Minutes passed.

An hour.

Somewhere in between, Mason jogged back to the house and returned with two cans of soda. They drank in silence, taking turns checking on Ginger.

“She’s lying on her side,” Mason said, a hint of alarm in his voice.

“It’s okay. Some mares prefer to lie down when they give birth.” Kayla peeked inside, and sure enough, Ginger was on her left side, sweaty and with hay sticking to her body. With each contraction, the mare let out a grunt, but she seemed more impatient than distressed. She rocked her big body from side to side, her awkward legs moving like pistons until she heaved herself into a standing position. Then she paced the length of the stall for a while before she lay back down on the straw.

Kayla checked her watch. The mare should have given birth by now. Was the foal breech? None of the signs were there, but she couldn’t say with absolute certainty. In all her years on the farm, she’d never dealt with that sort of problem, and she hoped to keep it that way. Ten more minutes, and she’d have to insert her arm into the birth canal to see whether the foal was positioned properly. If it wasn’t, then she’d call the vet for an emergency visit.

Suddenly, Ginger let out a sharp whinny. Every muscle in the mare’s body shuddered, and an amber-colored sac emerged from beneath her tail. One skinny little leg poked out, and then the other. Before long, the mare gave another soft grunt, and the head appeared, resting on its outstretched legs. With each contraction, more of the newborn became visible. Shoulders. Back. Hips. Then the rest of the foal slid out of its mother and landed onto the straw: a mahogany-brown colt, tiny and wet, still draped in the placenta, looking thoroughly dazed and confused. The mare nickered, twisting around to lick her newborn son.

“Holy shit.” Mason’s voice was filled with awe.

A relieved laugh bubbled up Kayla’s throat. No matter how many times she witnessed a birth, it always left her feeling elated. And to share the experience with somebody else made it all feel a little more magical.

The colt began to thrash, breaking his spindly body free of the sac. Kayla stepped into the stall, using a suction bulb to clear mucus from the newborn’s nose. Once she was certain that the colt was breathing on his own, she toweled him dry and dipped the navel stump in a Betadine solution to prevent bacteria from getting into the foal’s abdomen. Then she dealt with the afterbirth, making sure it appeared healthy and normal. All the while, she felt Mason’s eyes on her, watching her every move.

“What do we do now?” he asked, his voice low when she stepped outside the stall.

“Nothing. The rest is up to Ginger.”

They watched as the colt clumsily made his way to his mother’s udder. The mare looked tired, drenched in sweat, but that didn’t stop her from twisting her head around to nuzzle her tiny son.

Kayla lost track of how long they stood there, bearing witness to the miracle of life. Even though it was well past midnight, she didn’t feel tired, but she knew they both needed to sleep. Morning would come all too fast, and they both had a busy day ahead of them.

“Come on,” she said to Mason, nodding toward the exit. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

*****

AND HERE MASON had thought his night was going to be boring.

He was still in awe of what he’d just witnessed, and how Kayla had taken such good care of the mare and her newborn. “How many times have you done that?” he asked as he followed her inside the house.

Kayla shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t kept track.” She pressed her lips together, as if thinking it over, while they pulled off their shoes and left them in the mudroom. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred.”

“Does it give you the same rush every time?”

She smiled, and it lit up her entire face as they padded barefoot into the kitchen. “Yeah, it does. Is it really that obvious?”

“Yeah.” Because he felt the exact same way. Giving in to the urge, he slung one arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head.

She tilted her head to peer up at him, and desire flooded her eyes. His body responded, heating his blood, filling him with a dark, delicious craving. Everything in him screamed to take her, to claim her, to lose himself in her beautiful body until the sun came up tomorrow morning.

“When’s Louise coming back?” His voice sounded husky to his own ears.

“I can’t say for sure. Knowing her, she’ll be out with her friends until the bars close.”

He glanced down at his watch. It was a little after twelve thirty. The bars didn’t close until two. “Good. That gives us plenty of time.”

Throwing caution to the wind, he bent his head and claimed her mouth in a no-holds-barred kiss. He thrust his tongue deeply, penetrating her mouth, and he groaned at the decadent taste of her. Hunger and greed ripped through him, but he kept them in check, wanting to savor the moment for as long as humanly possible. Who knew how far she’d let things go, but if she didn’t say no, he sure as hell wasn’t stopping until he was balls-deep inside her.

Instead of slapping him, she moaned against his mouth, the sound desperate and needy. Her fingers tunneled through his hair, her short fingernails scraping against his scalp.

Everything seemed to melt away until nothing existed but them. Right here, right now, there was no farm, no wager, no past or future—only this flicker of passion between them.

Still kissing her, he slipped one hand between their bodies. He wasn’t rough, but he also wasn’t gentle as he caressed the sweet fullness of her breast. A soft, sexy noise rose from her throat, and then she broke the kiss long enough to grab the hem of her shirt and peel it over her head.

Heart pounding, he kissed her again, intoxicated by the taste of her, feeling as if he’d lose his mind if he didn’t take her. Now. He reached around her back, unhooked the clasp of her bra, and before the garment hit the floor he was palming one breast and sucking the other, his teeth lightly scraping her sensitive nipple.

“Oh, God.” She clutched the back of his head with one hand.

For an instant, he thought about stripping her naked and taking her right there on the kitchen table. But knowing his luck, Louise would come home early and scar them all for life.

“My room or yours?” he murmured against the pale, soft skin of her breast.

“Mine. The bed’s bigger.”

With one arm, he picked her up around the waist, his mouth still sucking her nipple. His entire body felt as though it were on fire, throbbing with need, as if he’d die if he didn’t get inside her soon.

After a dozen long strides down the narrow hallway, he pushed open the door to her bedroom. With a flip of the switch, the room filled with light as he kicked the door shut behind them. He set her down on the bed, whipped off his shirt, and reached for the fly of his jeans.

“Protection,” she breathed as she unzipped her own pants. “Do you have any?”

He froze, his pants halfway down his ass. “Aw, shit.”

She chuckled. “Believe it or not, I actually feel better knowing you weren’t planning any of this.”

Mason let out a growl, a primitive sound to express his growing frustration. He was so fucking hard it was painful. “Where’s the closest twenty-four-hour drugstore?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ve got some.”

Thank God. “Where?”

“Bathroom. Top drawer on the left.”

Aching and desperate, he rushed to the attached bathroom. Not bothering with the light, he yanked open the drawer and rummaged around for a condom. At last, he found what he was searching for, grabbing the foil-wrapped square and turning back to the bedroom.

His breath caught at the sight of Kayla lying on the bed, completely and gloriously naked. All that smooth, soft skin and luscious curves. Mine. All mine. What little blood he had left in his brain shot straight to his groin.

“Sweet Jesus,” he murmured. “You’re a goddess.”

A blush rose in her cheeks. She grinned, her gaze moving brazenly over his body. “You’re not so bad yourself. But you’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Taking the hint, he shucked off his jeans and boxer briefs and joined her on the bed. He reached for her, and there she was, in his arms, soft and warm, pressed against him, kissing him as hungrily as he kissed her. His hand slid down her side, past her hips, between her legs, finding her more than ready. She moaned when he stroked her, arching her back, rocking her hips in invitation.

Soon, he thought, but not yet. He wanted to ensure she was thoroughly satisfied before finding his own release.

Taking his time, he explored her beautiful body, using his mouth and his hands to learn what made her moan, and whimper, and squirm against the sheets. If he got creative, he could probably find a few more, but by the time she climaxed he was nearly shaking with the need to bury himself in her wet, slick heat.

Quickly, he rolled the condom over his aching shaft and positioned his body above her. Eyes glazed, she hooked her legs around his waist, and his control went right out the window. He kissed her hard, his tongue stroking hers, and with one powerful thrust, he entered her.

His guttural groan mixed with hers. Pleasure swamped him, and for a few seconds he simply stared down at her—not moving, not breathing. Slowly, he pulled halfway out of her and pushed back in. Hard.

“More,” she moaned. Her nails bit into his back, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

“Like this?” This time, he pulled almost all the way out before he thrust hard and deep.

She gasped and then made a soft purring sound. “Oh, yeah. Like that.”

With a smile, he began to move, his hips finding a rhythm that drove them both crazy. She moved beneath him, matching his thrusts with an abandon that took his breath away. When his gaze locked with hers, he saw passion in her eyes, and he realized that what they were sharing was more than pleasure, more than just sex. The connection ran so deep it pierced his soul, and he knew he’d never be the same.

Mindless, breathless, still thrusting inside her, he bent his head and kissed her mouth, her chin, the base of her throat, relishing the salty-sweet taste of her skin. She strained against him, her head thrown back against the pillow. A low keening sound pushed past her lips.

He felt it then, the beginning of her orgasm. She cried out, her inner walls flexing around him as pleasure swamped her senses. Teeth gritted, he tried his best to hold out, but the feel of her pulsing and shattering around him was too much. He came apart, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest as release blanked his mind and flooded his body.

Physically spent, emotionally exhausted, he lowered himself on top of her and buried his face against her throat. His entire body felt as though it were made of Jell-O, and his feet hung off the edge of the bed. Kayla held him tight, sliding her hands down the slope of his spine and over the curve of his ass.

“Am I crushing you?” he murmured into her neck.

“No. Don’t move. I like the feel of you on top of me.” She made a soft humming sound of contentment that touched something primal inside him.

Outside, a car door slammed.

Kayla stiffened. “Shit. Louise is home.”

“So? What’s wrong with her being home?”

“I left the kitchen light on. My light’s on.”

He pushed himself up a little higher so he had a better view of her glorious breasts. Thank God she hadn’t objected to making love with the lights on. It would have been a damn shame to miss one second of her naked. “What’s the big deal?”

Kayla glared up at him as if the answer was obvious. “Louise will assume I’m awake and want to tell me about her evening. Did you lock the bedroom door?”

“No. Why would I?”

She cursed under her breath.

The front door opened and closed.

“Kayla, I’m home,” Louise called out, her voice slightly slurred, and her sister’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Get up,” Kayla hissed, shoving at his chest. “She can’t catch you in here.”

“Why not? We’re adults. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I don’t want her seeing us like this.” When Mason’s eyes narrowed, she added, “It’s not you. I just—would you want your brother catching you naked with a woman?”

Personally, he didn’t give a shit about who saw him naked, but he understood where she was coming from. “What do you want me to do? There’s no way I can get to my room without her seeing me.”

She paused for a moment as if thinking it over. “Could you turn the light off and lock the door? She might not have noticed it yet.”

Reluctantly, he climbed out of bed. After doing what she asked, he took care of the condom and slipped back under the covers. A shiver ran through her and he pulled her close, shifting them both so he could cover their bodies with the sheet. She was so soft, so warm, so everything in his arms. He’d never felt this content with a woman.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, coming closer, followed by a light knock on the door.

“Kayla, you awake?” It was Louise. The doorknob rattled. “Kayla, why’s your door locked?”

“You better answer her,” Mason whispered in her ear. “Otherwise, she might think something’s wrong.”

Kayla sighed. “Louise?” she called out, doing a convincing job of sounding half-awake. “Why are you banging on the door? It’s late.”

The doorknob rattled again. “Your door’s locked. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I must have accidentally hit the lock when I came in.” Kayla rubbed a hand over her face. “Ginger had her foal tonight. A colt. I left you a message.”

“That’s great! How’s Ginger? Were there any problems?”

“Ginger’s fine. The colt’s fine. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

“Oh. All right. I’ll let you get some sleep. Good night.”

“Good night, Louise.”

“Oh, and Kayla?”

Kayla let out a frustrated huff as her head thumped back against the pillow. “What?”

“You left your shirt and bra on the kitchen floor.” Pause. “Good night, Mason.”

Mason’s chest shook with silent laughter. “Good night.”

Chapter Thirteen

IN ALL HER life, Kayla never imagined doing the walk of shame in her own damn house.

Fresh from the shower and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she drew in a deep, steadying breath before she opened the door to her bedroom. Mason had left the room a half hour ago. She could hear him talking with Louise in the kitchen, his deep, rumbling voice reminding her of the wicked things he’d whispered in her ear as they’d made love—no, had sex—earlier that morning.

It’s not a big deal, she repeated in her mind like a mantra. It was just sex. Nothing more.

Only it didn’t feel like just sex, at least not to her anyway. Even now, Mason’s touch lingered on her skin, firing her blood and making her want to do it all over again.

But then the memory of their wager crashed into her consciousness, reminding her of all the reasons it was such a horrible idea. Like it or not, he was still the enemy, the one who wanted to tear down everything her family had worked for and turn it into a strip mall. Not to mention, they had absolutely nothing in common aside from mind-blowing sex. They were two different people from two very different worlds, and the sooner she won this stupid bet and got him out of her life, the better.

After squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and strode down the long, narrow hallway leading to the living room and kitchen. The smell of bacon and coffee was thick in the air, and her stomach growled in response. She’d deal with the ribbing from Louise, and then she’d move on with her life as if she’d never lost her mind and slept with Mason.

“Good morning.” Louise handed her a mug of steaming hot coffee. The faint outline of a nightclub stamp marked her left hand, but she didn’t appear hungover. “I already checked on Ginger. She and the colt are doing just fine.”

“Thanks.” She’d call Dr. Vaughn in an hour or two and make an appointment for him to come out and examine Ginger and the newborn. Once the vet gave the all-clear, she’d move them both to the paddock closest to the house. It had a lean-to shelter, and it would also give the colt room to move and the opportunity to start nibbling grass.

Coffee in hand, she filled her plate with eggs and bacon before stepping over the dog to get to the kitchen table. She sat across from Mason, trying hard not to look at him but failing miserably. He looked delicious in Levi’s and a black short-sleeve shirt that fit snugly across his biceps and pecs. His eyes caught hers, and memories of the things they’d done crackled in the air between them. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips to moisten them.

His eyes followed the movement with a predatory intensity. “What would you like me to do today?” His words dripped with innuendo.

Strip me down, push me up against a wall, and fuck me until I’m a screaming, hot, sticky mess, she thought but managed to hold the words back.

“The usual,” she said instead, struggling to keep her voice from going husky. “Turn out the horses and muck the stalls. When you’re finished, bring a dozen bales of hay to the stable and put them in the empty stall near the washroom.”

“You got it, boss lady.” He stood, moving to the sink to rinse his plate and mug before he loaded them into the dishwasher. As he walked toward the door, his fingers brushed across her shoulder and sent a shiver of awareness through her body. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Louise plopped down on Mason’s vacant seat. “All right, spill it. I want all the details, and don’t even try playing dumb.”

Kayla stared at her sister while she chewed a piece of bacon, struggling for the right words to explain how she’d lost her sanity last night. “What can I say? I made a mistake.”

“A sexy mistake.” Louise grinned from ear to ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before. And I’ve never seen that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“Like you’ve just been epically laid.”

Kayla scowled. “It’s not funny.”

“I never said it was.”

Closing her eyes, Kayla pinched the bridge of her nose. All of the things she’d done with Mason flashed through her mind and sent a pulse of heat straight to her core. And even though she’d sworn not to repeat her mistakes, in her heart she wanted to do them all over again.

“It’s just that...oh, God. What am I going to do?”

Louise laid a hand over Kayla’s, her expression sympathetic. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know. You’re both consenting adults. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying each other for a little while.”

Kayla shook her head. Sometimes she wished she were as carefree as her sister, but there were just some things she couldn’t change about herself no matter how hard she tried. “You know I’m not wired that way. Besides, it would never work out. And if I don’t get him to quit by the end of this week...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“You’ll have enough money to buy another piece of land and build a stable with a roof that doesn’t leak,” Louise said, her tone matter-of-fact. “You won’t have any debts, and you’ll have money left over—”

“All for the price of selling out our family.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

“Not all of it.” Louise rapped her knuckles against the top of the kitchen table their father had built. “We’ll have this, Momma’s afghan, Grandpa’s tools, and all the other things that have been passed down over the years. They’ll just be inside a different house.”

“It’s not the same.”

Louise sighed. “I love this farm—you know I do. But let’s be brutally honest. You’re going to need more than winning a bet to keep this place from falling apart.”

The comment raised Kayla’s hackles. “It’s not that bad.”

“Oh really?” Louise held up her hand and rattled off items from Kayla’s never-ending list of things that would drain her bank account. “The stable roof leaks, we need new plumbing, the stalls need all new flooring pads, the truck has over two hundred thousand miles on it, and the brakes are going out on the tractor. Should I keep going, or do you get the point?”

Kayla shook her head. A sinking feeling took root in the pit of her stomach. “No, I get it.” Whenever she thought about everything that needed to be done, she felt an almost overwhelming sense of despair. Usually, she tried not to think about it too much, instead running around like a crazy woman while trying to keep ahead of the next emergency.

“And what are you going to do after I leave?” Louise pressed. “Someone has to break the horses, and no offense, but you sure as hell can’t do it with your back the way it is.”

“I know. I’ll have to make adjustments.” The fact had been nagging her for months. Breaking a horse was hard work; it could also be dangerous. And with the existing damage to her spine, she could end up back in a wheelchair. She’d have to hire somebody to do the job, and qualified people were tough to find.

If she bought a smaller farm, she could narrow the scope of the business to stud fees, boarding fees, and riding instruction. Then she’d only have to employ a few farmhands to tend to the horses and maintain the stable. It would lessen the workload tremendously while leaving her in a stronger financial position.

Damn, it was tempting. The other day she’d gone so far as to check out a few online real estate listings for vacant land and properties with existing stables.

Still, she felt like a traitor to her family for considering the possibility of selling out. Grandpa had trusted her to keep the farm in the family, not sell it to some faceless corporation that would bulldoze everything he’d worked so hard to build.

Turning her gaze, Kayla peered through the kitchen window. The lights were on inside the stable, and she could just make out Mason’s muscular form as he led one of the horses toward the paddocks. Her heart skipped, and it wasn’t just because of the things they’d done in the bedroom. Like it or not, she felt a connection with him that ran a lot deeper than anything she’d ever experienced. The knowledge both thrilled and terrified her, and she honestly had no idea what to do about it.

Sure, he was physically attracted to her, but did he feel the same emotional connection? Or was he just like Joshua, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, doing and saying whatever it took until he finally got what he wanted? Not knowing the answer made her head hurt and gnawed a hole in her stomach.

Until she got her head screwed back on straight, Mason Falco was officially off-limits. As far as she was concerned, it was business as usual until the wager was over.

*****

MASON SLIPPED A halter over Mingo’s head and walked the dappled gelding out of his paddock. A student was scheduled for a lesson at eleven thirty, and Louise had asked him to put the horse’s tack on before the girl arrived.

As he walked past the arena, he caught sight of Kayla teaching one of her classes. Dressed in a pale yellow blouse, jeans, and knee-high black boots, she stood next to one of the jumps by the bleachers. When a black mare cantered past, she shouted instructions for the rider to keep her heels down and her chin up.

It was the first time he’d seen her since this morning in the kitchen, and his body immediately responded. Every muscle tightened with awareness, while his pulse kicked into high gear. Only a few hours had passed since they’d last made love, and he already wanted her again.

Clearly, she’d been avoiding him, but he wasn’t sure of the reason. What they’d shared was incredible, and he was pretty confident she felt the exact same way. So why was she acting as if he were contagious? Was she embarrassed, or was it because of their bet? Or maybe another man had burned her. He didn’t know how many lovers she’d had in her life, and he honestly didn’t care. Whatever the reason, he’d give her room to breathe, but he wasn’t about to let her go.

She turned in his direction, and their gazes met. He froze. So did she. From where he stood, it was impossible to gauge her reaction, but after a few heartbeats she turned away and resumed giving instructions to her student.

When he reached the barn, he tethered Mingo to the crossties inside one of the open stalls. As he slid the currycomb onto his hand, he heard Louise cursing a few stalls over. Curious, he walked over to see what was wrong.

“Got a new leak in the roof,” Louise said when she noticed him by the sliding gate. So far, she hadn’t said anything to him about sleeping with Kayla, but he figured it was just a matter of time. “Ruined the bedding. When you’re finished with Mingo, could you do me a favor and haul the shavings out to the compost heap?”

“Sure, no problem. It’s a good thing we’re not supposed to get any more rain today. Do you want me to fix the leak?” It had been a long time since he’d done that kind of work, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Louise shook her head. “No offense, but the last thing we need is you falling off the roof.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome.” She cracked a faint smile. “Look, I really appreciate the offer, but it opens up all kinds of liability. Kayla can take care of it later this week. When you bring Lenox in tonight, go ahead and move him to the stall across from Ginger. I don’t see any point in laying down new bedding until the leak is fixed.”

“You got it.”

The sound of Kayla shouting orders to one of her students caught his attention, and he instinctively twisted his head toward the sound. Judging from her voice, she was still in the arena, and she didn’t sound happy at all.

“Give her time,” Louise said, as if reading his mind. “She’s got a lot going on, and you’re not making it easy.”

“I know. That’s why I want to help.” It killed him to see her working so fucking hard while barely scraping by. She deserved more. Deserved better. He wanted to take the heavy load off her shoulders, so she could actually slow down long enough to enjoy everything she was working for.

Louise watched him over the space of a few heartbeats, her eyes narrowed as if she were mentally debating whether he was sincere or full of shit. At last she nodded.

“When you have time, go out to the shed. You’ll find what you need in there.” She started to leave but then stopped in her tracks and looked in his direction. “I’m trusting you to do the right thing. Screw it up, and I’ll geld you. Understood?”

Judging by her expression, she had no qualms about carrying out the threat. In some perverse way, he appreciated the fact she wanted to protect her older sister. But that didn’t mean he’d allow her to intimidate him.

“I’m not going to hurt her, but even if I did, you’d have to get in line behind Carter.”

She snorted. “Fat chance. God only knows when he’ll be around again.”

She disappeared inside the tack room, coming back out seconds later with a leather halter and a lunge line used for training.

As soon as she left, Mason tacked up Mingo and then went to the shed behind the house. Sure enough, he found an open pack of shingles in the corner, along with a bucket of tar and a coffee can full of nails. An assortment of tools hung from a pegboard along the front wall. Everything he needed to fix a leaky roof.

There were a few more tasks he needed to complete, but as soon as he finished, he was scratching one item off Kayla’s list of things to do.

*****

THERE WERE DAYS when Kayla’s students performed so well it nearly brought tears to her eyes. And then there were days like today.

“Sweetheart, are you all right?” she asked as she helped Courtney into a sitting position.

The teen had given Mingo the wrong signals, and the horse had responded by putting on the brakes and veering around the jump at the last second. The shift in momentum had flung the girl right out of the saddle. Luckily, she’d landed flat on her back, and the only damage appeared to be to her pride.

“I—I’m okay,” Courtney replied, eyes wide and still breathing heavy. The corners of her mouth twitched when Mingo walked up beside her and nuzzled her with his nose. Taking the hand Kayla offered, she climbed to her feet and brushed the dirt off the back of her riding pants.

Theresa, the girl’s mother, hovered a few feet away, looking as if she was one step away from a full-blown meltdown.

Relieved that the girl wasn’t hurt, Kayla led Courtney to where Mingo stood. “Okay, let’s get you back up. I want to see you go over that jump one more time before we call it a day.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” her mother said.

Staring at the ground, Kayla gritted her teeth and slowly counted to ten. She understood Theresa’s concerns, but the woman clearly didn’t understand the psychology behind getting a rider immediately back into the saddle after a fall.

“Sweetheart, could you hold Mingo’s reins while I talk to your mom?”

Courtney nodded, and as soon as she had a grip on the reins, Kayla led the girl’s mother to the far side of the arena.

“Do you want your daughter to continue lessons here?”

Theresa pursed her lips. She’d been coming to the farm with Courtney for about a year and a half, watching from the bleachers while her daughter developed from a kid with a passing interest in horses to a rider with serious potential. To her credit, she was watching out for her daughter’s best interests, but sometimes she became overly protective. “Well, yes,” she said, her chin jutting up. “Of course I do. I just don’t think—”

“Then let me do my job. The sooner she climbs back in the saddle, the sooner she’ll get over the fall. Leaving now will chip away at her confidence and make it that much harder for her to get on the next time.” Kayla paused to let the message sink in. “Your daughter has talent, but fear could ruin it. Do you understand?”

Theresa nodded, but she obviously wasn’t happy about it. “Okay.”

While Theresa ducked under the rail and reclaimed her seat on the bleachers, Kayla walked over to Courtney.

“Do you know why that happened?” Kayla asked the girl, keeping her voice calm and even.

Courtney pressed her lips together in a way that reminded Kayla of the girl’s mother. “I steered with the wrong leg?”

Kayla smiled and nodded. “Yes, very good. He thought you wanted him to go to the left, so he did. Now we’re going to show him the correct way to do it.”

She hoisted Courtney back onto the saddle and had her trot Mingo around the arena a few times until the teen felt comfortable again.

“Ready?” Kayla called out.

The girl nodded but still looked a bit nervous.

“Okay. Let’s try it again. Ask him to canter, and then take him right back over the fence.”

Courtney kicked in her heels, her young face a mask of complete concentration as Mingo shot into a canter. She rounded the arena, gathering speed as she steered the dappled gelding toward the red gate.

“Left leg, Courtney, left leg!” Kayla shouted as they approached the jump.

The girl followed Kayla’s instructions, and Mingo sailed over the little red gate without a moment’s hesitation.

“Yeah! Good girl!” Kayla clapped enthusiastically. Watching one of her students learn from a mistake never failed to fill her with pride. She slanted a glance toward the girl’s mother, who seemed a lot more relaxed than she did before. “Give him a few laps and then take him in for a wash.”

She wasn’t kidding when she’d told Courtney’s mother that the girl had talent. Already, she’d medaled in a handful of competitions, and if she kept at it, she stood a good chance of making a name for herself on the national circuit.

While Courtney walked Mingo, Kayla talked with Theresa and scheduled her daughter’s next lesson. She was entering the information into the calendar on her phone when she heard a loud pounding sound coming from the other side of the stable.

What the hell? She excused herself to investigate the noise, only to find a ladder propped up against the side of the barn and Mason kneeling on the roof. He was holding a hammer, and a tool belt was wrapped around his waist. A gallon of tar was off to his left, right next to a pack of shingles.

Her first thought was she wanted to see him wearing nothing but the tool belt, but then reality reared its ugly head and reminded her of what might happen if he took a header from twelve feet up. “What the hell are you doing?”

He peered down at her and grinned. “What does it look like? I’m fixing your roof.”

“Get down from there before you break your neck!”

He had the nerve to act offended. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, and since when is fixing roofs part of your daily routine?”

“Well, it’s not part of my routine now, but I worked on a roofing crew for six months after I graduated from high school.”

That so wasn’t the response she’d been expecting. She opened her mouth to speak but had to wait until he finished hammering a shingle to the roof. “You did?”

He gave her a wry look. “I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, princess. I started from the bottom and worked my way up.”

After he attached a few more shingles, he tossed what was left of the pack to the ground. Then he gathered the remaining supplies and climbed down the ladder. From where Kayla stood, she had a great view of his ass, and she gave herself a moment to enjoy the scenery.

“All set,” he said when he reached the ground. He held the tar and nails out to her. “Hold that, will you?” Once she accepted both items, he bent to pick up the shingles and started toward the shed, leaving her no choice but to follow.

“Thank you, but it really wasn’t necessary.” She fell in line with his long, fast strides. “I was planning on fixing it in a few days.”

“You already work an insane amount of hours.” He pushed open the door to the shed. Once inside, he put the shingles back where they belonged. “I’d rather see you well-rested so I can wear you out when we’re alone.”

Memories of the things they’d done the last time they were alone flashed through her mind. His touch. His kiss. The feel of him inside her. The sounds he made when he came. He stood so close she felt the heat from his body, and it took everything she had not to touch him.

His gaze moved over her like a caress, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. “You showered this morning.”

“Is that a problem?” Her words came out a little breathy. Usually, she showered at the end of the day, but she wouldn’t have been able to face her sister while she reeked of sweat and sex.

“Not at all. It’s your choice.” He placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer. “I didn’t. Know why?”

She swallowed hard. “I have no idea,” she said once she trusted her voice not to waver.

“Because I wanted your scent on my skin.” Slowly, his fingers skimmed up her sides, slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt. His touch was gentle, but when she tried to pull away, his grip tightened and prevented her escape. “Every time I catch a whiff of your scent, I think of how hot you looked beneath me. On top of me. How fucking perfect it felt to be inside you.”

A decadent heat shimmered across her skin. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”

“I disagree.” He nuzzled her neck, and it felt so damn good, a soft moan slipped past her lips. “Never regret anything that makes you smile. Or come.”

It was hard to regret anything when he was doing that thing with his teeth. She moistened her lips, her heart thudding so loudly she wondered if Mason could hear it.

His thumb brushed the underside of her breast and a hot bolt of lust shot through her. If he kept it up, she’d let him take her right here in the shed. Knowing her luck, Louise—or even worse, a student—would walk in on them, and she’d never live it down.

“Knock it off,” she said, but didn’t try to move away. “Unless you want to concede the bet right here and now.”

His hand stilled but didn’t move away. “I don’t see why this would end our wager.”

“Seriously? This is so many shades of inappropriate I don’t even know where to begin.” Exasperated, she shoved his hands away and jerked her shirt back into place. “Can’t you see how this blurs the line between personal and professional?”

He hesitated before answering. “I can differentiate between the two.”

“Yeah, well, good for you. I can’t.”

“And I can’t forget how good we are together.” With a gentle nudge, he turned her toward him and bent his head to look directly into her eyes. The intensity of his gaze kept her riveted in place, and her steely resolve began to crumble.

“You do things to me that I don’t even know how to explain.” The husky resonance of his voice filled the room. One of his hands cupped the side of her face, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “How can you expect me to just forget?”

It was hard to think straight when his touch ignited feelings she was just plain terrified of acknowledging. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, he was still staring at her with a look of such hunger it sucked the air from her lungs.

“Find a way,” she whispered. “I can’t blur the lines like this.”

He stared into her eyes, not blinking, not speaking, for what seemed like an eternity. For a moment or two, she thought he might kiss her, but then he nodded and pulled his hand away. The loss of contact left her feeling adrift, and she fought back the urge to reach out for him.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready, but don’t take too long. When push comes to shove, I’m not a patient man, and now that I know what I want, I won’t be satisfied until I get it.” The corners of his mouth hitched up a fraction. “Besides, I know you want me too. I saw the way you were checking out my ass while I climbed down the ladder.”

Busted. Her face flamed. Although honestly, who could blame her? The man had a magnificent ass. But before she could come up with a smart-ass reply, he’d moved around her and walked out of the shed.

Chapter Fourteen

TRUE TO HIS word, Mason kept his distance, busting his butt every day on the farm without uttering a word of complaint.

And once he completed his daily responsibilities, he scratched items off Kayla’s to-do list that had been on there for months. The day before, he’d cleaned and oiled all of the tack, and today he was busy repainting the jumps that had started to appear dull and dingy. He was a tremendous help, and with each passing day Kayla’s defenses crumbled a little more.

Only three days were left before she lost their wager, and even though she was desperate to win, a growing part of her was resigned to losing. She’d ramped up her search for a replacement property, finding one that might fit their needs in Geneva, about a thirty-minute drive away.

She’d just finished her last riding lesson of the day when Mason walked into the stable. He looked sweaty and dirty, with his shirt plastered against his chest in a way that accentuated every single muscle. Smears of red paint marked his clothes and body, and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He arched a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” she replied, unable to hold back a snicker. “I think you got as much paint on yourself as you did the fences.”

He glanced down at his body and shrugged. “It’ll come out in the wash.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Laughing, she walked into the tack room and hung Tamarack’s bridle on its hook. Mason followed her in, and she could tell by the look on his face that something was on his mind.

“Listen.” He closed the door behind him. “I’m going to a charity function tonight, and I’d like you to come as my guest.”

Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. “What, like as a date?”

“Unless you want to call it something else.”

“I can’t,” she said automatically, with a shake of her head. “I’m scheduled to work at the bar.”

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t afford to.”

Mason shot her a pained look. “Sure you can. One way or another, your financial problems will be over in just a few days.”

Well, he kind of had a point there, which made it even harder to say no. She hated calling in sick, but maybe she could sweet-talk another bartender into covering her shift. “What type of charity function are we talking about?”

“It’s a gala and silent auction to benefit Harbor House. Are you familiar with their work?”

She nodded. One of her favorite local radio stations did a fundraiser for them a year or two ago. The organization worked with domestic abuse survivors, providing emergency shelter and resources to help them get back on their feet.

“Then you know it’s a worthy cause.”

“Of course.”

“Great.” He smiled. “It starts at eight, so we’ll need to leave around seven.”

When he started to leave, she said, “Whoa, hold up. I didn’t say I was going.”

He gave her a confused look. “Why not? Don’t you want to help victims of domestic abuse?”

Like there was any question about that. “Of course I do.”

“Then it’s settled.”

With a huff of annoyance, Kayla folded her arms over her chest. “You’re going to be a pain in the ass about this, aren’t you?”

He leaned one muscled shoulder against the doorframe. A cocky smile parted his lips. “Tenacity’s one of my finer qualities.”

“That depends on whom you ask,” she grumbled beneath her breath. “Where’s this thing being held?”

“The Citrus Gallery.”

Her stomach sank. From what she’d heard, the Citrus Gallery was one of those exclusive places where rich people went to rub elbows. “I don’t have anything fancy enough to wear for something like that.” Which was the truth. There were only two dresses in her closet: the hideous bridesmaid gown she’d endured for her cousin Maggie’s wedding, and the black sheath dress she’d worn at her grandfather’s funeral.

“Not a problem.” Unfazed by her objection, Mason pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He winked as he held the phone up to his ear. “Ms. Booth, it’s Mason. I’m bringing Ms. Phillips to the Harbor House benefit tonight and she requires a gown. Can you arrange for Wentworth to come over here and take care of it? Wonderful, thanks so much. Uh-huh, uh-huh. Yes, if you could handle that as well, I’d appreciate it. I’ll expect to see her here no later than five.” He held the phone out to Kayla. “She needs to ask you a few questions.”

Kayla reluctantly accepted the phone and for the next couple of minutes, she answered the woman’s questions about her dress size, shoe size, hair and eye color, and skin tone.

“Thanks so much,” the woman said on the other end of the line. “Please let Mr. Falco know that Ms. Wentworth will be there shortly.”

“Okay. Thanks.” After she ended the call, she handed the phone back to Mason. “She wanted me to tell you that Ms. Wentworth is on her way.”

“Excellent.” He gave her a smile that melted her insides and reminded her of the many sinful things he could do with that mouth. Before leaving, he shoved the phone into his pocket. “I better bring the horses in now so we’ll have plenty of time to get ready.”

Kayla bit her bottom lip as she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’d been trying on dresses for the better part of an hour, and at this point her eyes had started to glaze over.

“What do you think?” She glanced at Louise through the reflection in the mirror. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

“Stop it—you look fantastic,” her sister said. “But the back dips a little low.”

That’s what she’d been afraid of. As a rule, she shied away from clothes that put her surgical scars on display. The last thing she wanted was to spend the entire evening explaining them to complete strangers. She turned to face Jane Wentworth, the buxom redhead who’d been patiently helping her choose an outfit for the charity event. “Could I try the red one on again?”

“The one with the cap sleeves or the halter?”

“Uh, the cap sleeves, I think.”

With the patience of a saint, Jane riffled through the racks of dresses until she found the one Kayla requested. Quickly, Kayla changed gowns and did a little twirl in front of Louise.

“Much better.” Her sister gave a nod of approval.

Kayla craned her neck to check the view of her backside in the mirror. The fabric hugged her ass like a second skin. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “You don’t think it’s too clingy?”

“Oh, hell no. You’ve got a great body. It’s about damn time you showed it off.” Louise crossed to where Kayla stood and slung her arm over her sister’s shoulders. “Mason’s going to lose his mind when he gets a load of you in that dress. Are there heels to go with it?”

“Of course,” Jane replied. “You can go with either nude or red, but considering the length of the gown, I think you’d be better off with the red.”

“You know better than I do. Red it is.”

Kayla slipped her feet into a pair of red three-inch heels. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore dress shoes, and she felt a little unsteady. “I’m going to break my neck in these.”

“You’ll be fine once you get used to them,” Jane assured her. “Now for your hair and makeup.”

She had a feeling this was coming. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Jane and Louise answered in unison.

“Come on, sis. If you’re going to wear the fancy dress, you’ve got to take all the bells and whistles that go with it. It’ll be like Cinderella but without the midnight curfew.”

Kayla let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But only a little makeup. I don’t want to end up looking like a hooker.”

Jane’s lips twitched as if she was trying to hold back a laugh. “I’ll do my best. And if you don’t like it, you can take it off. Deal?”

“Deal.”

*****

IT HAD BEEN a few months since Mason had worn a tuxedo, and it was just as uncomfortable as he remembered.

Impatient, he tugged on the cuffs of his shirt as he paced the length of the living room. Spanky was curled up by the couch, still moping over Carter’s departure. Mason paused long enough to pet the dog’s head before he paced the room once again.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven twenty. What was taking her so long? If they left now, they’d only be twenty minutes late. Not a big deal with these types of events, but the sooner they got there, the sooner they could leave, and the sooner he could get her alone.

Which was his primary goal of the evening. Sure, he wanted the Harbor House to raise a ton of money, but he also wanted private time with Kayla. She deserved to be pampered and he intended to do just that, catering to her every whim while showing her how much she meant to him.

He heard the sound of a door opening down the hall, followed by the distinct sound of heels clicking. Seconds later, Kayla walked into the room, and Mason just about swallowed his tongue.

To say she looked stunning would have been an understatement. The red lace dress clung to her curves and gave a mouth-watering view of her cleavage. A slit went up the left side that showed a glimpse of her taut, tanned leg. Her hair fell past her shoulders in elegant waves, while a light touch of makeup accentuated her smoldering brown eyes and elegant cheekbones. A bold splash of crimson covered her lips, completing the ensemble and transforming her into a walking wet dream.

She stopped a few feet from where he stood, a little wobbly in her heels. Her brows drew together in a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong? Is the makeup too much? I told Louise to lay off with the lipstick, but she insisted—”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured her. “You...holy shit, you look incredible.”

“Thanks.” Color rose in her cheeks. She smiled at the compliment as her eyes moved over him with unmasked appreciation. “I could say the same for you.”

Louise and Ms. Wentworth emerged from the hallway, looking more than a little pleased with themselves.

“Remind me to give you a bonus,” Mason told Jane, and the woman practically beamed.

“Hey, what about me?” Louise asked.

“You’re not on my payroll. Take it up with your sister.” He laughed when Louise blew him a raspberry.

Turning his attention back to Kayla, Mason held out his elbow and she took his arm. “We should probably get going. Are you ready?”

Visibly nervous, she blew out a breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Relax. It’s going to be fun. I guarantee it.”

*****

THE CITRUS GALLERY was located along a quiet side street not too far from the Orlando Science Center. On the outside, it appeared rather plain, with slate-gray walls and mirrored windows across the front. A pair of ten-foot sculptures made from twisted metal flanked the brick walkway that led to the entrance.

Mason pulled up to the valet station and slipped the car into neutral. Within seconds, a young man wearing black pants and a red uniform jacket opened the passenger side door and offered his hand to Kayla.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she took the valet’s hand, unaccustomed to having anyone help her get out of a car. Although, to be honest, she appreciated the assistance since she still felt a bit awkward walking in heels.

After closing her door, the valet rounded the front end and Mason handed him the keys and a few bills. The guy gave him a ticket stub before he slid behind the wheel and drove off with the Maserati.

Mason crossed the short distance between them. He looked good enough to eat in a fitted tuxedo with satin accents on the lapels. His gaze heated as his eyes moved over her, from head to toe and back again. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

A blush warmed her face. “Yes. About a hundred times.”

“Then let’s make it a hundred and one.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll wait until later to smear your lipstick.”

With her arm looped through Mason’s, they strode through the entrance and into the building. The air inside was about twenty degrees cooler, making goose bumps rise on her bare arms. The light buzz of chatter filled her ears, growing louder as they approached the main gallery. She’d imagined something lavish, but what she saw exceeded her expectations.

Befitting an event of this stature, the tasteful décor oozed money and power. Artwork hung from walls painted a soft shade of ivory, while light jazz music played over the speakers. An elaborate ice sculpture was on display in the center of the room, carved in the shape of a mother holding hands with her daughter.

Along the far opposite walls, full bars were set up, and waiters and waitresses wearing black pants and white shirts circulated around the room, carrying flutes of champagne and trays of hors d’oeuvres. Every person in attendance was dressed to the nines, and Kayla suddenly felt grateful that Mason had insisted on giving her a suitable dress to wear.

“Would you like some champagne?” Mason asked. “Or would you prefer something from the bar?”

“Champagne is fine.”

He grabbed two flutes from a passing waiter and handed one to Kayla. His gaze met hers, warm and inviting, and the butterflies in her stomach settled down a bit.

“To beautiful things.” He clinked his glass lightly against hers.

She took a sip, savoring the sensation of the bubbles that tickled her tongue and throat. Wow, so that’s what real champagne tasted like. It was so much better than the cheap stuff she and Louise bought last New Year’s Eve. “So who do you know here?”

“Pretty much everyone.” He gestured with his glass toward an older gentleman by the bar. “See him? He’s the head of the city zoning board. Any changes to property zoning have to go through him. And the guy standing next to him is one of the largest general contractors in the area. I hired him for one of my developments, and if he plays his cards right, I’ll use him for the next one as well.”

She wondered if the development he was referring to was the one involving her farm. Annoyed by the thought, she pushed it aside before it had the chance to ruin their evening.

Glancing to her right, she spotted a stocky older woman who looked vaguely familiar. Where did she know her from? Kayla racked her brain. Ah, yes. Now she remembered. She sold the woman a gelding five or six years ago and gave her English riding lessons for a few months. What was her name? Matilda? Margaret? No, that wasn’t it. Then it came to her. “Mavis!”

“Excuse me?” Mason asked, understandably confused.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. See the woman over there in the dark-green dress? I sold her a horse awhile back.” Addison, if she remembered correctly. The bay quarter horse had a fondness for Jolly Rancher candies, and she’d used them as a reward when training the gelding.

“Would you like to go over and say hello?”

“Sure, why not?” She didn’t know the woman very well, but at least she was a familiar face and they shared something in common. Plus, she was curious to see how Addison was faring with his new owner.

Mason gave his empty flute to a passing waiter and held his hand out to Kayla. Lacing her fingers with his, she walked with him toward Mavis. But halfway there, he came to an abrupt halt, causing Kayla to lose her balance. Like a klutz, she tripped over her own two feet and stumbled into his side. After regaining her balance, she followed his gaze and felt a little queasy inside.

Tall and voluptuous, the statuesque blonde wore towering stilettos and a shiny blue dress that matched her eyes and flaunted her enormous chest. Diamonds dripped from her earlobes, throat, and wrists, while a huge sapphire adorned her right ring finger. She sauntered toward them, her waist-length hair swaying with every step. Every man watched her appreciatively as she passed, but her interest was focused solely on Mason, like a predator sighting prey. Beaming, she flashed him a seductive smile that made it perfectly clear how well she knew him.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you.” A hint of England echoed in her voice. The woman ignored Kayla altogether, even though her fingers were still linked with Mason’s. She raised her hand for Mason to kiss, and the bastard actually did it.

“A pleasure as always, Angelica. I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

“Yeah, I bet you weren’t,” Kayla grumbled under her breath.

Mason squeezed her hand lightly. “Kayla, I’d like you to meet Angelica Rothschild, an old...friend.”

Kayla bristled, fully aware of just what kind of friends the two of them had been. The sensual awareness between them was obvious, as well as Angelica’s intention to pick things up wherever they’d left off.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Angelica peered down her nose at Kayla while she gave one of those dead-fish handshakes. “How do you know each other?”

“From my farm.”

“Oh, really?” Angelica arched one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “And what kind of farm is that?”

“Equestrian.”

“How quaint.” She flashed a smile as fake as her breasts. “You cleaned up rather nicely for someone who works on a farm.”

“Thank you. One of these days, I’m hoping to work my way up to eating with utensils.”

Mason squeezed her hand again, a little harder this time, and she squeezed his hand right back.

“It was good to see you again,” Mason said. “We’ll have to do lunch sometime.”

“Yes, we will. I’ll be in town through the end of next week. Call me and we’ll set something up.” As Angelica sauntered away, she tossed a glance over her shoulder and blew Mason a kiss.

Despite her best efforts, Kayla’s temper boiled over. She’d never considered herself the jealous type, but apparently, she’d been wrong. Holding her anger in check by the skin of her teeth, she glared in Mason’s direction.

“So tell me, do her tits feel as fake as they look?”

“Relax. It ended a long time ago.”

“Not as far as she’s concerned.” A sinking feeling washed over her as she looked around at the tuxedoed guests, elegant gowns, and fancy artwork. This was his world, and she didn’t belong here. Never had, never would. No matter how many expensive dresses he bought her, in the eyes of these people, she’d always be beneath them.

Mason dipped two fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “If I wanted her, I’d be with her. But I’m not. I’m with you.”

“For how long?” Tonight? A week? A month? It wasn’t fair to expect anything long-term. But in her heart she knew she was falling for him and was afraid he didn’t feel the same way. Eventually, their relationship would come to an end, and she wanted to brace herself now for the inevitable heartbreak.

He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he dipped his head down and claimed her mouth in a kiss that burned every thought but him from her mind. Heat flashed through her body and pooled between her thighs, making her want so much more than she could hope for in a room full of people.

Mason pulled back a fraction, his lips a whisper from hers. A bit of her lipstick had smeared onto his mouth, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw an old couple gawking, but she honestly couldn’t care less. Let them watch. It wasn’t like she’d ever see them again anyway.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, his breath fanning across her face.

“But we just got here.”

“I don’t care. If we don’t leave now, I’m going to do something that might just get us arrested.”

She swallowed hard as her knees came close to buckling. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Fifteen

“YOU’RE GOING THE wrong way,” Kayla said when Mason hooked a right onto Mills Avenue.

“No, I’m not.” He shifted the car into fourth and hit the gas to make it through a yellow light before it turned red. “We’re going to my place.”

“But I have to—”

“You don’t have to do anything except send your sister a text to let her know you’ll be home in the morning.” A sensual grin crooked his mouth, and it warmed her from the inside out. “I want you all to myself tonight, princess, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

That was good, considering she had no intention of saying no. The seductive scent of him enveloped her, leaving her hungry for everything his smoldering eyes promised. After opening her clutch, she pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to Louise.

Settling back against the plush leather seat, she took in Mason’s profile as the passing streetlights played over the planes of his face. He really was spectacular. Her gaze lowered to his lips, and the memory of what that mouth could do sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

A short drive later, Mason steered his car into an underground parking garage in the heart of downtown Orlando. He parked in a numbered spot with a sign on the wall that warned of towing for unauthorized vehicles.

“Stay there.” He pulled the keys from the ignition. “I’ll come around.”

Following his instructions, she unfastened her seat belt and waited for Mason to open the passenger side door. When he did, she took his hand and climbed out of the car. She felt a little more confident in the heels, but they were starting to pinch her toes.

Without letting go of her hand, he led her to the elevators. After they stepped inside, he inserted a key in the control panel and pressed the button for the twenty-fourth floor.

He glanced down at her shoes. “Why don’t you take those things off? They’ve got to be killing your feet.”

“Are you kidding?” Her lips peeled back in revulsion. “God only knows what’s on this floor. I’ll take them off when we get to your place.”

Amusement crossed his face. “Suit yourself.”

A soft dinging sound marked their arrival. The elevator doors swished open, revealing tasteful art on pale beige walls and intricate trim work. The floor was marble, freshly polished, with an intricate pattern running the entire length of the hall.

“This way.”

The feel of his hand on the small of her back made her whole body tingle. At the end of the hall, he waved his key ring over a sensor and a little green light blinked twice. Once he opened the door, he ushered her inside, and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

The main living area was huge, with lots of comfortable-looking furniture and the biggest flat-screen television she’d ever seen. A long mahogany island with a granite countertop separated the living room and kitchen areas. To the left, floor-to-ceiling windows displayed a stunning view of downtown Orlando, while a pool table occupied the wide-open space nearby.

“Wow, this is amazing.” Kayla’s heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she walked toward the pool table. She skimmed her fingertips over the soft green cloth. “I didn’t know you played pool.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Oh? Like what?”

He stared at her for a long moment, as if deciding what to say next. “When I was in high school,” he finally said, “I used to shoot pool for money. It’s how I paid for my first car.”

Intrigued, she arched one eyebrow. “What kind of car was it?”

“1970 Pontiac GTO, fully restored.”

She nodded her head in appreciation. A classic muscle car like that had to cost a pretty penny, which meant he must have been one hell of a hustler. “Do you still play well?”

A playful grin tugged at his lips. “Want to find out?”

She shrugged; pretty sure she already knew the answer. “Sure, why not? Eight-ball or nine-ball?”

“Lady’s choice.”

“Let’s start with eight. It’s been awhile since I last played.”

She toed off her heels while he racked the balls, and she nearly sighed at how good it felt to finally be barefoot.

“Cue sticks are on the wall to your left.” He hung the rack on its holder beneath the table. Once he straightened, he unfastened the buttons on his jacket and shrugged the garment off. “Do you want to break?”

“No, you go ahead.”

She watched while he selected a cue stick from the rack. As he leaned over the table to pick up the cue ball, she couldn’t help but admire the way his tuxedo pants stretched across his very fine ass. As if he sensed her ogling, he twisted his head in her direction.

“Like what you see?”

Busted again, so why bother denying it? She shot him an unrepentant grin. “Yep.”

“Good.” The wicked glint in his eyes made her panties damp. Turning his attention back to the table, he made a bridge with his left hand, drew back the stick, and sent the cue ball flying across the table. The balls scattered, with three falling into the pockets.

“I’ll take the high balls,” he said as he rounded the table. “Those are the ones with the stripes.”

She knew that but didn’t bother telling him. Experience had taught her it was better for an opponent to underestimate her skill level. Besides, he’d figure it out soon enough.

With her back pressed against the wall, she watched while he began to run the table. No doubt about it, the man knew how to play. He sank four balls in quick succession before he tapped the ten with just a little too much spin and the ball missed the pocket by a hair.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

Kayla pushed off the wall and approached the table, her plan of attack already mapped out. After chalking the cue, she bent over the table and lined up her first shot.

“Nice view,” Mason said from behind her.

Feeling playful, she looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at him. Then it was back to business, and she hit the cue ball with just enough force to send the three ball rolling into the pocket. The cue ball came to a stop an inch from the far rail, giving her a perfect line on the nine.

“Nice shot.”

“Thanks.”

She made quick work of the rest of her balls, finishing up with a bank shot to sink the eight in the side pocket. Resisting the urge to do a fist pump, she gave him a saccharine-sweet smile instead. “Loser racks, right?”

Mason’s mouth fell open. “You played me.”

“No, you assumed I couldn’t play. Big difference.” Her smile widened. “I guess there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me either.”

“Where’d you learn how to play?”

“Break Shots. I dated a guy in high school who used to work there.”

Now he seemed outright intrigued. “Just how good are you?”

“Well, I never bought a car with my winnings, but one time I made enough to buy a new leather saddle.” And to this day, she still used the saddle whenever she rode Harlan.

“And now?” he asked.

She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. That’s the first game I’ve played in a couple years.”

Mason shot her a skeptical look.

“Seriously, you’ve seen my schedule. Do you honestly think I have time to hang around a pool hall?” When he nodded, as if conceding the point, Kayla picked up her cue. “Want to play again?”

“I don’t know. What are we playing for?”

“Money?”

He shook his head, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I already have money.”

“In that case, what do you have in mind?”

His eyes swept over her body, lingering at the tops of her breasts before returning to meet her gaze. “Loser of each game takes off one article of clothing.”

“Strip billiards?” It took considerable effort to keep her face blank while her pulse raced and her hormones kicked into high gear.

“You got something better in mind?”

She looked him over, performing a fast mental inventory of how much clothing he wore: shirt, tie, pants, underwear, socks, and shoes. By way of comparison, she was only dressed in her gown, bra, and panties. Not very fair, as far as she was concerned.

“You need to ditch a few items so we’re on equal footing.”

He glanced down at his body. “Like what?”

“Lose the tie, the shoes, and the socks, and we’re on. And no counting stuff like cufflinks as clothing.”

He quirked a brow. “You’re making an awful lot of rules for a simple game.”

“Those are my conditions. Take ’em or leave ’em.”

Mason blew out a heavy exhale. “Fine, fine. Have it your way.” He took off his tie and removed his shoes and socks. “Happy?”

“Very. And since I won the last game, I’ll break.”

She chalked her stick while he racked the balls, and when she broke, the seven and four balls went into the pockets. She paused to examine the placement of the remaining balls on the table before declaring which grouping she wanted.

“I’ll take stripes.” She rounded the table and lined up her first shot. One by one, she cleaned the table, methodically sinking every striped ball before sending the eight ball into the corner pocket.

“Christ, you’re a damn hustler.” A hint of appreciation seeped into Mason’s voice as he unbuttoned his tuxedo shirt. Once off, he draped it over the back of the couch, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders that Kayla couldn’t wait to run her hands over.

Because she won, she got to break again, but this time the balls didn’t scatter as well, leaving a cluster a few inches from the rail. Not good, considering it included two of her balls. She worked around it, sinking every other striped ball on the table until she was left with nothing but the grouping to contend with. Lightly, she tapped the cluster with the cue ball, not hard enough to break up the balls but close enough to give Mason little to aim for.

“Oh, that was just mean.” He walked around the table, checking the angles for several shots before he decided how he wanted to proceed. Eyes narrowed, he raised his stick at a near ninety-degree angle and made a trick shot that sent the cue ball swerving around the cluster and sank the eleven in the side pocket.

“Damn, that was good.” She could have made that kind of shot years ago, but it had been way too long since she’d even attempted something so intricate.

“Thanks.” Rounding the table, he dropped four more balls before he circled back to the cluster near the rail. If he sank the ten, he’d have a clear shot on the eight, and she’d be out of her dress.

Not that she really minded. In fact, she was looking forward to losing some clothes. But her competitive streak demanded that she get him good and naked first.

He tried another trick shot, and although it managed to sink the last of his balls, it also sank the cue ball in the corner pocket.

Kayla’s heart skipped a beat. Hot damn, she was about to get him out of his pants.

Leaning over the table, she made the next two shots, leaving only one ball between Mason and his trousers. The eight was settled against the far rail with lots of cloth between it and the cue ball. Carefully, she checked and double-checked the angle she needed. After chalking her stick, she took the shot, holding her breath while the cue ball rolled across the green cloth, tapped the eight, and sent the eight toward the corner pocket.

It came to a stop less than an inch from its intended destination.

“Yesss.” Mason wasted no time nudging the ball into the pocket.

Try as she might, she couldn’t stop from smiling. “I’m going to need help with the zipper.”

His eyes darkened with raw desire. “My pleasure.”

Turning, she gave him her back. A slow burn heated the blood in her veins as she watched his reflection in the glass. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he eased the zipper down. A shiver ran through her when he hooked his fingers beneath the lace and pushed the fabric past her shoulders. Then the gown cascaded over her curves and landed in a puddle at her feet.

Mason let out a guttural sound of approval. Much to her surprise, he made no mention of the surgical scars on her back. Lightly, his fingers trailed down her sides and came to rest on her hips.

Her fingers curled, anticipation racing through her as their gazes met in the glass.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, right before his teeth grazed the sweet spot at the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

Oh, God, that felt so good. She gave a little shudder, her eyelids growing heavy as she tilted her head a little to the right to give him better access to her neck. He caught the hint, his teeth nipping the sensitive flesh before soothing the sting with his tongue.

He kept at it, nibbling, licking, sucking, until she thought she might dissolve into a puddle right next to the pool table. If he made her feel that good with just his mouth on her neck, what would happen when he finally got inside her? At last, his hands gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. Their eyes met, and the space between them crackled with sensual energy. His fingers skimmed up the smooth column of her throat, and then his mouth covered hers in a kiss so intense it made her whole body tingle. She moaned, and his tongue stroked against hers, deepening the kiss and making her moan even louder.

With one hand, he unfastened the front clasp of her bra, and then his hand was on her, caressing her breast while his thumb teased the tightened tip.

Wanting more, needing more, Kayla reached between them and stroked his growing erection through the fabric of his pants. He growled, the sound low and primitive, and it made her even wetter.

“Too many clothes,” she murmured against his mouth while her fingers tugged at the fly of his pants.

“No, not yet.” He pulled her hand away.

Slowly, insistently, he backed her up until her butt bumped against the pool table. Hunger mounted inside her, an unyielding desire to be taken hard and fast. Her breath caught when he grabbed the backs of her thighs and hoisted her onto the table. He lowered her down on the smooth green cloth, the cue ball not far from her head. She hooked one leg around his waist and ground against his shaft, and his eyes darkened with lust.

“This is probably bad for the cloth,” she said, her mouth inches from his.

“Do you honestly think I give a shit?”

She laughed, but the sound quickly turned into a moan when he claimed her lips in a scorching kiss. He dragged his mouth down her neck to her breasts, her back bowing when he sucked one taut nipple into his mouth while his hand caressed the other breast. With lips and teeth, he drove her wild, alternating his mouth with his hands. A long steady pull, and her body shuddered, filled with a desperate need. Her fingers tangled in his hair and dug into his scalp, urging him to take more.

One of his callused hands skimmed down her body, slipping beneath the waistband of her panties, past the dark curls that covered her sex.

She gasped. He groaned.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.”

Her blood sizzled when his fingertip drew tiny circles around the bead above her folds. Staring into her eyes, he slid two broad fingers inside her, and it felt so good she almost forgot her own name. A ragged moan slipped past her lips, and when he kissed her again, his tongue mimicked what his fingers were doing inside her.

She heard the sound of fabric tearing, right before she felt cool air between her thighs. Panting, she watched as he kissed a path down her belly, and the memory of what he’d done to her the last time made her shiver with wanton excitement. The craving tightened in her core, and by the time he dropped to his knees, she ached for the hot, soothing press of his mouth. His fingers firmly gripped her hips and held her in place.

Then the feel of his tongue sweeping over her tender flesh made every thought in her head evaporate.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled, his voice rough and raspy.

Pulses of pleasure rippled through her at the sight, the sound, the feel of his mouth doing indescribable things between her legs. The muscles in her abdomen clenched and shook, the pressure inside building in intensity with each talented stroke of his tongue. Her breath caught and her hips bucked when he sucked her clit into his mouth.

Every nerve in her body felt overly sensitive, primed and ready for release. The feel of his hands on her hips, his hair rubbing her thighs, and his mouth were driving her crazy. The agony and ecstasy twisted and coiled, sizzling in her blood until it reached a frenzied peak. Then he sucked on the small tender bud once again, and her body exploded in an orgasm so intense she saw spots in front of her eyes. Her head tipped back and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. All the while, Mason continued to suck on her clit, drawing out every last exquisite drop of pleasure as the entire world dissolved around her.

Mindless, breathless, consumed by his touch, she somehow managed to prop herself up on her elbows. “I want you inside me. Now.”

He laughed, the sound rich with masculine confidence. “You’re not the boss tonight, princess.”

With his eyes never leaving hers, he reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down. In a matter of seconds, he was magnificently naked, and although she’d seen him without clothes before, the sight still left her feeling lightheaded.

God, he was gorgeous. Her gaze brazenly roamed over his broad chest, down the planes of his finely muscled stomach, not stopping until she reached the irrefutable evidence of just how much he wanted her.

Pushing herself up to sitting, she reached for him and wrapped her fingers around his thick, hard length. Satisfaction flowed through her when he sucked in a harsh breath; his eyes glazed over as her thumb stroked the smooth head of his shaft.

“Condom?” she asked.

“Of course.” He raised one hand to reveal a small foil package tucked between his fingers.

She snatched the condom and tore it open with her teeth, enjoying the way his entire body shook as she rolled it over his erection.

With his eyes locked on hers, he opened her with his fingers and eased partly in.

“More,” she panted. Impatient, she tightened around his tip and he inhaled a sharp breath in return.

He moved again—deeper, harder—until his shaft was buried to the hilt and stretched her wide.

Ah, yes. The fit was glorious, filling her completely and sending ribbons of pleasure through her body. She clenched her inner muscles and he let out a groan, right before he captured her mouth in a kiss that melted her heart.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with emotion. “Wrap your legs around me.”

After she did as he asked, he slid his hands around the backs of her thighs and lifted her off the table. The shift in position pushed him even deeper inside her, and she let out an audible groan.

“I love the noises you make. Do it again.” He lifted her slightly, only to thrust back into her tight, wet heat.

A strangled sigh rose from her throat, and he grinned.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “Less talking, more thrusting.”

His grin turned feral. “Yes, ma’am.”

The next thing she felt was cool glass against her back as he pressed her against the window. His mouth covered hers as he kissed her again, his cock slamming deep, faster and faster until they both gasped for air. Tension coiled inside her, impossibly tight, and when he adjusted his angle and ground against her clit, the world exploded around her. Waves of pleasure shook her body, and all she could do was cling to Mason, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He slowed for a few seconds before he picked up the pace, his hips thrusting like a wild animal as he came apart in her arms. A guttural sound rose up from his throat, right before his teeth sank into her shoulder, hard enough to mark but not break the skin. Another wave of pure pleasure crashed over her, wiping everything but him from her mind.

Mason buried his face against her neck, his hot breath gusting over her breast. “Are you all right?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” She let out a breathless laugh. “No, I’m fine. I just can’t believe we had sex against a window.”

His chest shook with silent laughter. “It’s mirrored glass. Besides, we’re on the twenty-fourth floor. I doubt there was anyone peeking.”

His gaze met hers, and the emotion in his eyes reflected the way she felt inside. Dipping his head, he kissed her softly, tenderly, and she melted against his mouth. With unsteady legs, he carried her into his bedroom and laid her on the king-sized bed.

“I’ll be right back.” He turned toward the door, giving her a mouth-watering view of his ass. She’d never realized she was an ass woman before, or maybe she wasn’t and he’d converted her to the cause.

In the dim light of the room, she could just make out a dresser and the outline of what she assumed was a flat-screen television mounted on the wall opposite the bed. A window to her right gave another view of the city, and when she looked closely, she could just make out the fountain lit up in the center of Lake Eola.

A minute or two later, Mason returned, a glass in his right hand.

“I brought some water, in case you were thirsty,” he explained as he set the drink on the small nightstand beside the bed. He stretched out beside her, cradling her close, his body a blanket of warmth.

She let out a satisfied sigh as she snuggled closer and softened against him. “What time is it?”

“Eleven thirty.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “What time were you scheduled to work until tonight?”

“One.” Luckily, she’d been able to call in a favor and got another bartender to cover her shift.

Mason made a noise that she didn’t know how to interpret. One of his hands skimmed along the side of her body but stopped at the swell of her hip. “Feeling tired?”

Exhausted, but she wasn’t in the mood to sleep. Not when her body was already primed and ready for him. “Why, what do you have in mind?”

His hand moved lower, slipping between her thighs, and every nerve in her body sprang to life. “I want to make love to you until we’re too tired to move, and then I want to do it all over again. Any objections?”

“Not a one.”

Chapter Sixteen

THE SUN WAS just starting to peek over the horizon when Mason hung a right onto the road that led to the farm.

He stole a sideways glance at Kayla, who was fast asleep with her arms crossed and her chin tucked against her chest. Grinning to himself, he couldn’t get over how sexy she looked even though she was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants. The sight of her wearing his clothes sent a bolt of possessiveness thundering through his veins, and not only did he recognize the emotion, he welcomed it with open arms.

She was his, and he would do whatever it took to ensure she was happy and cared for. Even if it meant he had to abandon his plans for the development.

Which was exactly what he intended to do. According to the cost analysis, building the development around the farm would result in a far greater loss than if Falco Enterprises simply aborted their plans and sold off the surrounding vacant plots of land. Ethan wouldn’t like it, and Shane would throw a fit, but if push came to shove he was the majority shareholder and he would do what he damn well pleased. And right now that meant letting Kayla keep the most important thing in her life.

Despite his best efforts, he ran over a pothole hard enough to jar the entire vehicle. Kayla moaned softly and stirred, her eyes blinking open.

“Almost home.” He reached over and gave her thigh a light squeeze.

She glanced over at the readout for the car stereo and frowned. “Shit, we’re late.”

“Don’t worry about it. Louise and Elliot are taking care of the horses, and you don’t have any lessons until nine.”

Kayla’s brows drew together. “You know my schedule?”

“I asked Louise. She said she’d take care of the morning chores if you managed to sleep in for a change.”

Judging by her expression, she couldn’t decide whether she was pleased or annoyed. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it without speaking a word.

Once through the gates, Mason drove past the stable and parked in front of the house. He opened the door and was greeted by the soft nicker of horses and the sweet smell of freshly-cut grass. To his right, in the distance, he spotted Louise leading Fleetwood toward the rear paddocks. And for the first time in his entire life, he felt as if he was truly home.

As he walked around to the passenger side, Kayla stepped out of the car, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head. Daybreak shined above the tree line, bathing her with light, and she looked so damn beautiful it was everything he could do not to drag her inside the house and make love to her until they passed out from exhaustion.

“What is it?” she asked when she noticed him staring at her.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the view.” Stepping into her space, he bent his head toward her as she arched up onto her toes. His mouth met hers; his arms locked around her as she twined hers around his neck. She tasted like the coffee they’d bought at the Starbucks outside his office building. He wanted more, but the rational part of his brain reminded him of the mile-long list of responsibilities that demanded their immediate attention.

Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and stepped back from their embrace. “We better get moving. Louise will skin me alive if I don’t feed the horses, and you still need to change.”

A shy smile cracked her mouth as she peered down at her loose-fitting outfit. “I don’t know. I kind of like wearing your clothes. It’s almost like having your hands on me when you’re not around.”

“In that case, keep them.” For a moment, he considered telling her about his plans for the development, but decided to wait until later. He’d spring the good news after everything was finalized and they could celebrate in style. Maybe tomorrow after dinner. Yeah, that might work. Tonight, he’d make the calls necessary to set everything in motion. And after all the i’s were dotted and t’s were crossed, he’d let her in on the surprise.

Feeling energized and hopeful, he dipped his head for one last kiss before he headed off toward the stables.

*****

EVEN FOR A Saturday, the farm was unusually busy, leaving Kayla with barely enough time to think about the night she’d spent with Mason.

There were moments when she caught a whiff of his scent on her skin, and her mind flashed back to the feel of him inside her, making her mindless with pleasure. More than once, she had to think of a quick excuse to explain the look on her face. And every so often, their paths would cross, and the heat in his eyes made her want to drag him someplace quiet and have her way with him. Again.

She was just winding down her two o’clock riding lesson when she spotted two men in business suits striding purposefully toward the arena. The guy to the right—a tall, slim blond—was carrying a black briefcase while the other one had his head bent down as he tapped something into his phone. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they were here to see Mason.

She shifted her gaze back to her student, who just completed her course in the arena. “Good job, Amber. Why don’t you let Lenox walk a few laps and then bring him inside for a wash-down?”

“Yes, Miss Kayla.”

She turned her attention back to the men, now standing just outside the wood railing. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” The blond flashed a million-watt smile. His voice was deep and smooth but carried no trace of an accent. “I’m Ethan Riggs, and this is my associate Shane. We’re here to see Mason Falco. Is he around by any chance?”

“He’s out in the paddocks, working on the fence. If it’s important, I can have someone go out and get him for you.”

The guy looked at her strangely, as if he’d seen her someplace before but couldn’t remember where. “You’re Kayla Phillips, correct?”

Something about the way he asked the question made her uneasy. She jerked up her chin and met his inquisitive gaze. “That’s me. Why do you ask?”

The two men glanced at each other, and the brunette grinned. He reminded her of a younger version of Mason, especially around the mouth and eyes.

“No reason,” the blond replied. “I’ve just seen your picture on some paperwork.”

“Oh.” She had a feeling there was more to it than that, but the way they were staring made her uncomfortable, so she let the subject lie.

“If you could get him for us, we’d really appreciate it. I have a few contracts he needs to sign, and it has to be completed before the end of business today. I tried calling him earlier, but he isn’t answering his phone.”

That didn’t surprise her. Mason had forgotten to plug his phone into the charger last night, and the battery was dead this morning.

“No problem,” she said. “Mason’s working on the other side of the property, so it’s going to take a few minutes to get him. Why don’t you wait in the tack room? It’s air-conditioned. Just go into the stable, and it’s about halfway down to your right.”

As they started toward the building, Kayla headed off in the opposite direction. Mason should still be in paddock twelve, where the fence had some broken boards on the eastern side. She’d just walked past the storage shed when she heard Louise calling her name from behind.

“What is it?” she shouted to her sister.

“Courtney’s here,” Louise said when she got a bit closer. “She said you have a lesson at three.”

Crap. With everything else going on, she’d forgotten all about Courtney. Normally, the girl took her riding lessons on Mondays, but her family was flying to Vegas tomorrow so they’d rescheduled for today. “All right, I’m on my way. Could you go to paddock twelve and let Mason know there’s somebody waiting for him in the tack room?”

“Sure thing. I’m on my way.”

While Louise strode toward the paddocks, Kayla headed back to the stable. When she got there, she found Courtney leading Mingo into an open tack stall and clipping his halter to the crossties.

“Hey, Courtney. Are you ready to try a new course today?”

“I think so.” But the teen didn’t sound very certain, a common reaction after falling off a horse. The goal for today was to get the girl past any lingering fears so she could move forward with her training.

“Tell you what—we’ll go through the last course a few more times, and if you’re feeling comfortable with those, we’ll try the new one at the end. How’s that sound?”

The girl visibly brightened. “Okay.”

“Do you have everything you need to tack up?”

“Yep. Oh wait—I forgot his bridle.”

“No problem. I’ll grab it while you brush him out.”

Kayla walked the short distance to the tack room but stopped short when she heard one of the men inside say, “Yeah, but did you see the rack on her? Nice.”

She wrinkled her nose. Ew, were they talking about Courtney? There weren’t any other students in the stable. Normally, she wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but all that went right out the window when men started acting like pigs. She inched a little closer and peeked through the crack in the door.

“She looks a hell of a lot better than her picture,” one of them said, and Kayla’s eyes popped wide when she realized they were talking about her.

“Hell yeah she does. Do you think he nailed her?”

“Of course he did. It’s written all over her face.” The brunette chuckled. “Not that I blame him. I’d fuck her in a heartbeat.”

“You’d fuck anything with a pulse and a port of entry.”

“That’s beside the point. Pay up, sucker.”

The blond scoffed. “I’m not paying until we hear confirmation from Mason.”

“Fine by me, but you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

Son of a bitch. Kayla’s blood chilled to ice in her veins. In all her life, she’d never felt so humiliated, and considering what she’d been through with Joshua, that said a hell of a lot. And here she’d thought Mason cared for her. Liked her. Hell, maybe even felt something deeper. But now that she knew he’d done it all for a stupid bet, the love she felt for him twisted like a knife in her heart.

Fueled by anger, she shoved the door open and stalked inside.

“Excuse me.” She brushed past the two men and grabbed Mingo’s reins and bridle. Tack in hand, she crossed back to the door, her heart thundering so hard and fast she thought it might burst right out of her chest. She paused, her fingers wrapped around the knob, and turned back to face the two men.

“Mr. Riggs?”

“Yes?”

“Pay the man. He won your bet. Then I want you both off my property.”

She didn’t hang around long enough to see their reactions. Eyes stinging, hands shaking, she exited the room and strode back to the stall where Courtney was grooming Mingo. The teen had finished brushing the gelding and was in the process of cleaning his hooves. Kayla took a deep breath, then another and another, before she trusted herself to speak without her voice cracking.

“Here you go.” Kayla set the reins by Mingo’s saddle. “When you’re ready, go ahead and take him to the ring and warm him up. I need to take care of something real quick.”

Not waiting for an answer, she stormed out of the building in search of Mason. It didn’t take long before she spotted him walking back from the paddocks. He looked sweaty and disheveled, and it reminded her of the way he’d looked when they made love the night before. The memory churned her stomach and made the blood roar in her ears.

When he saw her, he smiled, and it made her even madder. “Hey, princess. Louise said there was someone—”

She cut him off with a slap across the face, hard enough to whip his head to the side.

“You bastard,” she hissed, barely holding back tears.

He rubbed his cheek while he stared at her as though she’d just lost her mind. “What the hell was that for?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Falco. I overheard your buddies talking about the bet.”

“So? What’s the big deal? It wasn’t like our bet was a secret.” Then realization dawned in his eyes, and he muttered, “Aw, shit. That bet.”

He didn’t even have the balls to deny it. How could she have been so stupid? Shame and anger twisted in her gut; she clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling. “Pack up your shit. You’ve got ten minutes to get the hell off my property before I start loading the shotgun.”

Shock registered on his face; whether it was genuine she had no idea. “Wait, you don’t understand. It was the guys. I didn’t make the bet.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever. Try telling that to someone who’s stupid enough to believe you.” She glanced down at her watch. “Nine minutes and forty seconds.”

“Listen to me.” His voice sounded strained as he gripped her upper arm. “I didn’t make any—”

“I don’t want to hear any more lies!” Shit, no stopping it now. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she yanked her arm free, and she hated herself for giving him the power to hurt her. Voice cracking, she snapped, “I’m not going to tell you again. Leave. Now.”

Mason’s posture went completely rigid. “I’m not going anywhere until we straighten this out. It’s not what you think. Just give me a minute to—”

“Is there a problem here?” Louise interrupted, and Kayla had never been more relieved to see her sister.

“No, no problem,” Kayla bit out, her unblinking gaze still locked on Mason. “I just learned that I’m an incurable idiot.”

“Kayla, please.” A hint of desperation crept into Mason’s voice. “It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”

She shook her head even though everything in her wanted to believe him. “I’m not making the same mistake twice. Now get the hell out. I never want to see you again.”

The lines of Louise’s face hardened. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything! It’s all a big misunderstanding.”

“Oh, really?” Kayla cocked one hand on her hip. “Is that what you call making bets with your buddies about whether you could get into my pants?”

Louise’s mouth dropped open. “You fucking prick. I say we geld him.”

Mason’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing. “I didn’t make any bets,” he snarled. “If you’d just let me explain—”

“Call the police,” Kayla told Louise before she leveled her glare back on Mason. “I’m going to the house for the shotgun. If you’re still here by the time I get back, I’m filling you full of holes.”

“Whoa, wait. This is getting way out of control.” Mason raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, even though his eyes blazed hot with anger. “I’ll go. For now. You’re obviously way too upset to talk about this rationally. But this isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

Chapter Seventeen

NO MATTER HOW hard Mason tried to focus, he couldn’t keep his mind on the job.

He missed the farm. He missed Louise and the horses. Hell, he even missed the damn dog. But most of all, he missed Kayla so much it felt as though his chest had cracked open.

For two straight weeks, he’d tried making things right. But Kayla refused to accept his calls, and his texts and emails went unanswered. She’d also made it abundantly clear what would happen if he dared to set foot on the property. He needed some way to prove his sincerity, but what? How could he prove how much he loved her when she wouldn’t give him the time of day?

A knock on the door jarred him out of his thoughts. He tilted his head up in time to see Ethan leaning a shoulder against the doorframe.

Mason scowled. “I’m busy.”

“I know.” Undeterred, Ethan entered and closed the door behind him. He looked edgy, which was understandable. After what happened at the farm, Mason had torn him and Shane a new one, and their relationship hadn’t been the same ever since. And if he lost Kayla forever because of their stupid bet, he’d never be able to forgive them.

Ethan crossed the room, his lips pressed tightly together as he approached Mason’s desk. “I just received a call from Kayla Phillips. She said she’ll agree to sell the property if we meet three conditions.”

“She what?” That couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense. He knew how much the farm meant to her and her family. After everything that happened, why would she move forward with the sale? “What were the conditions?”

“First, she wants four point five million dollars.”

“Done. What else?”

“She wants a six-month window to vacate the property, starting at the date of closing.”

“Okay, we can work around that.” They could begin construction on the other areas of the development first, saving that particular tract for the final phase. “And the third?”

Ethan hesitated. The look on his face made it perfectly clear that he knew Mason wouldn’t approve of the last condition. “She doesn’t want you at the closing.”

He had a feeling that was coming. Even so, it hit him like a punch to the gut, but he refused to let the hurt show. “When does she want to close?”

“She didn’t give an exact date, but from what I gathered she wants to move quickly.”

Mason slumped against his chair, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. Why was she selling? How could he stop it? And, most important, how could he convince her that his feelings for her were real?

An idea popped into his head. It would only take a few days to get the title search results and the payoff amount on her mortgage. But for what he had in mind, he’d need more time. Time for the documents to be drawn up, and to liquidate and transfer funds... “Tell her it’ll take two weeks for us to make the necessary arrangements.”

Ethan’s eyebrows drew close together in obvious confusion. “Why so long?”

“Because I need time to get everything in place.”

“Like what? It’s a simple transaction.”

“It won’t be by the time I’m finished with it.” Feeling revitalized for the first time in weeks, Mason pointed to one of the seats on the opposite side of his desk. “Sit down so I can lay it all out for you. Better yet, let me get Shane in here so I don’t have to repeat myself.” He picked up his phone and sent Shane a text: Get your ass in my office. Now.

Shane stalked through the door less than a minute later, looking thoroughly put out.

“This better be important,” he grumbled. He dropped into the empty chair beside Ethan’s and propped one foot on the desk.

By sheer force of will, Mason kept his temper in check. “I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t.” He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. “I lost Kayla because of you idiots. Now you’re going to help me get her back.”

Point by point, he laid out his plans. On some level, he knew what he was proposing sounded crazy, but he’d do whatever it took to win her over. After all, it was only money. He could always make more. “How quickly can you get everything in place?”

Mouth open, Shane stared at him for a full thirty seconds before he responded. “Either you’ve lost your goddamn mind, or she’s the greatest piece of ass on the planet.”

Teeth gritted, Mason gripped his chair’s armrests so tightly they creaked under the strain. He leaned forward, his eyes locking with Shane’s. His voice sounded strange to his own ears when he said, “You’re my brother, and I love you, but if you ever talk about Kayla like that again, I’m going to knock your fucking teeth out. Are we clear?”

His brother leaned back against his seat. “Crystal.”

“Good. Now how quickly can you get everything in place?”

*****

TWO WEEKS LATER, Kayla signed her name to the final document and slid the paper back across the table.

“Congratulations, Ms. Phillips.” The title clerk smiled. She was a young woman, probably a year or two out of college, and Kayla couldn’t stop from wondering if Mason had banged her on a bet as well.

The bitter thought made her mentally cringe, and she pushed it out of her mind. She forced out a smile and a polite “thank you,” but the words tasted like ash in her mouth.

In reality, she should be thrilled with the knowledge that her family would never have to worry about money again. Split three ways, the proceeds of the sale would make her and her siblings millionaires. She’d have enough money to start another farm, Louise would have enough to pay for her vet school tuition and to start up a practice once she graduated, and Carter wouldn’t have to worry about money whenever he decided to leave the Marines. But how could she possibly celebrate when she’d sold her family’s legacy?

The clerk gathered all of the papers and organized them in a neat stack. “The wire transfer should reach your bank account within the hour. If you’ll allow me a few minutes, I’ll make copies of the documents for you.”

As soon as the young woman exited the room, Kayla slumped back against the chair.

Every single time she thought about Mason, her heart broke a little bit more. She hadn’t seen him since the day she’d kicked him off the farm. Didn’t want to. She still felt like an idiot for falling in love with him, for making herself vulnerable to his charms. Maybe the memories would finally fade once she moved far enough away. She’d found several properties south of Jacksonville that might be suitable for relocating the farm. This weekend, she planned to take a road trip to see if any of them looked as promising in person.

The door opened, and the sight of Shane and Ethan walking into the room sent Kayla’s blood pressure through the roof.

“What do you want?” She straightened in her chair. “Isn’t it enough you got everything you wanted?”

At least Shane had the decency to act sheepish. “We’re here to tell you the truth.”

Yeah, right. She heaved out a breath. “I think I’ve heard enough from you two.”

A blush crept up Ethan’s neck. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and then met her furious glare. “We came to apologize about the bet. It was stupid, and immature, and—”

“Assholish?” she offered.

“That too.” Shane rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he shared with his brother. “It’s something the two of us have been doing since college. Mason had nothing to do with it.”

Like she’d believe anything these two said. “Oh, please.”

“No, it’s true,” Shane insisted. He slid back the chair across from hers and sat down. This close, he looked so much like his older brother it sent a chill down her spine. “He even told us to stop making bets, but we went ahead and did it anyway. We were just having fun; we didn’t think it would hurt anyone...” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “Now we know better.”

“You can be mad at us all you want,” Ethan said. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. What we did was lousy, and I’m not going to make any excuses. But please understand that Mason had nothing to do with it.”

Part of her still didn’t want to trust them, but her instincts told her they were speaking the truth. And though she felt relieved to learn Mason wasn’t a part of their wager, a bolt of anger made her hands curl into fists. Because if they were being honest, she’d just sold her property for all the wrong reasons. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I signed the damn papers?”

“Well...” The ghost of a smile warmed Shane’s mouth. “You didn’t exactly sell the farm.”

“What are you talking about?” Instantly, the blood drained from her face as panic squeezed the air out of her lungs. Oh, God. Why hadn’t she read the paperwork more closely? After the twentieth or twenty-fifth page of legalese, her eyes had started to glaze over and she’d just signed whatever the woman put in front of her.

“Well, technically, you sold the farm,” Ethan began. His voice lifted with enthusiasm. “To the Whispering Oaks Irrevocable Trust. It’s the same trust that owns all of the surrounding undeveloped parcels.”

“O-kay. And that means what?”

“It means the trust owns and controls all of the properties, and only the trustee can modify or terminate the trust.”

“Sounds nice. What does this have to do with me?”

Ethan hesitated before answering. “Well, you’re the designated trustee, as well as the beneficiary. For all intents and purposes, the farm’s yours, as well as the surrounding properties.”

“But—but—that’s over two hundred fifty acres. I can’t afford to maintain all that!”

Shane’s smile widened. “We got that covered. There’s an account set up in the trust’s name with enough funds to pay the projected property taxes for at least the next ten years. And with your mortgage paid, you’ll be left with only the daily operating expenses.”

The words sunk in, and Kayla felt a little dizzy. This couldn’t possibly be happening, and if it was, there had to be a catch. There was always a catch. “Why are you doing this?”

“To set things right,” Ethan replied. “Actually, this was all Mason’s doing. He said if we didn’t go along with his plans, he’d...well, I’d rather not say exactly what he said, but he made a convincing argument.”

“There’s a diplomatic way of putting it.” Shane huffed out a laugh then turned serious again. “He loves you, you know. I’ve never seen him like this about anyone before.”

Kayla opened her mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out. The room spun around her, and for a moment or two she thought she might pass out.

“Are you okay?” Shane reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

Kayla shook her head, raising one finger to indicate she needed a minute. “Where is he?” she asked when she finally trusted herself to speak.

Visible relief washed over Ethan’s face. “Wait here. We’ll get him for you.”

Both men disappeared behind the closed door, leaving Kayla alone with her thoughts. Had Mason been telling the truth all along? Why else would he go to all this trouble? Her mind raced and adrenaline surged through her veins. In her heart, she welcomed the news, but her mind was still a little skeptical.

Moments later, the door swung open, and there he was, gorgeous as always in a gunmetal gray suit that probably cost more than her truck. Stubble covered his jaw, and there were dark smudges beneath his eyes. For once, he actually seemed nervous as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

A few heartbeats passed while they simply stared at each other.

“Is it true? What they said?” she asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded. “It’s yours, every last acre. Falco Enterprises has terminated all development plans in the east Orlando area.”

“That’s not what I’m asking and you know it. The bet...”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it.” He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, something she noticed he did whenever he was stressed out. “But I knew about it, and I should have put an end to it. And because of that you got hurt. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay.” Again, he ran his hand through his hair, and a few strands stuck out along the sides. “You got hurt because of my carelessness, and I can never take that back.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, and the gentle caress of his thumb against her knuckles sent shock waves rippling through her.

“This must have cost you a fortune.”

“It doesn’t matter; it’s only money.” His warm blue eyes held a look of such longing her breath caught in her throat. “Do you forgive me?”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to forgive. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yes, I did. Even if you never wanted to see me again, I wanted to make sure you never had to worry about losing the farm.”

His words touched her in a way she couldn’t possibly put into words. Her heart swelled with emotion. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Will you give me another chance?”

A giddy laugh bubbled up her throat. “Like there was any question.”

Mason shot out of his seat and rounded the table before she even had the chance to push her chair back. The next thing she knew, she was in his strong arms, their mouths meeting in a kiss filled with heat and hunger. The last bits of tension dissolved from her body, and she tunneled her fingers into his hair, her nails lightly scraping his scalp. He let out a low growl as his tongue stroked hers in a way that made her wish they were someplace more private.

“Your place or mine?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Yours. I want to play another game of eight-ball.”

Chapter Eighteen

KAYLA SAT ON the edge of her seat in the crowded arena, waiting impatiently for her sister’s name to be announced.

“McIntyre, Jason, cum laude...Brooks, Angela...Patel, Satjit... Phillips, Louise, magna cum laude...”

Kayla stood and clapped like a maniac, so proud of her sister’s accomplishments she could barely contain herself.

She’d come to the graduation ceremony with Mason, Shane, and Ethan. From their seats in the stands, they had a great view of the stage where Louise walked up, shook the dean’s hand, and accepted her bachelor’s degree in biology. She nearly danced off the stage, waving in their direction as she returned to her seat.

In a way, for Kayla, the moment was bittersweet. Without a doubt, she was ridiculously happy for Louise. But in a few short months, her sister would leave for the University of Florida, where she’d spend the next four years earning her degree in veterinary medicine. What happened after that was anyone’s guess. Maybe she’d return to Orlando and open a general practice, or perhaps she’d specialize in something else entirely, or even work at one of the zoological parks. Whatever path she chose, Kayla would support her, but she’d miss having her sister by her side.

Mason took Kayla’s hand in his and gave it a light squeeze. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She blinked back tears of joy. Leaning toward him, she pressed her lips to his, and the simple contact centered her in a way that nothing else possibly could.

Five months had passed since they’d ended their wager. When Mason wasn’t working in his office or away on business, he was by Kayla’s side at the farm. He’d become so much more to her than just a lover: he was her partner, her soul mate, and, most importantly, her best friend.

Kayla glanced to her right, where Ethan and Shane sat. Ethan’s gaze was fixed on the stage, while Shane messed around with his phone. He’d glanced up briefly when Louise’s name had been called but then went right back to scrolling with his finger.

After the last name was read, the ceremony wound down, and thousands of people slowly made their way out of the crowded arena.

It took a bit of effort, but Kayla and the guys finally found Louise down by the escalators near the main entrance. Louise let out a squeal when she caught sight of them, winding through the sea of people and trapping Kayla in a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so proud of you, sis,” Kayla said when she could finally breathe again.

“Thanks. I still can’t believe it’s finally over.”

“For now.” That was Shane. By some miracle, he’d torn his attention away from his phone long enough to engage in an actual conversation. “Round one was the easy part. Vet school’s going to be a lot harder.”

Louise rolled her eyes at him. “Buzzkill.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Mason pulled her in for a quick hug. “You’re going to ace vet school. And once you finish, you’ll make a fantastic vet.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to know at least one of the Falco brothers has my back.”

Now it was Shane’s turn to roll his eyes.

Ethan remained silent from a few feet away, his gaze focused intently on Louise.

“So who’s coming back to the house?” Kayla asked. “The kegs are on ice, and we have enough food to feed a small army.”

To celebrate, they’d erected a huge tent behind the house to accommodate Louise’s friends and fellow graduates. The farm’s employees had also been invited, so they expected a pretty big turnout. Setting everything up had cost Kayla a bit, but what the heck, it wasn’t as if her baby sister graduated from college with honors every day. And in another four years, when Louise got out of vet school, they’d throw an even bigger party.

“I’ll be there in about an hour, maybe two,” Louise said. “I need to turn in my gown, and there’s a few people I want to see before I leave.”

A female’s voice called out Louise’s name. She twisted her head toward the sound and let out another squeal, tearing off toward a small group of men and women wearing graduation gowns. They did a group hug, laughing and chatting, before they walked together toward the eastern side of the building and disappeared around the corner.

“How about you boys?” Kayla asked Ethan and Shane. “Are you coming?”

“Can’t,” Shane said with a shake of his head. “I have a mountain of work at the office.”

Ethan shot him a funny look. “Since when?”

Shane’s eyes narrowed. “I. Have. Work.”

“All right. Whatever.” Ethan turned to Kayla and smiled. “I’ll be there after I stop by the house to change.”

Mason wrapped his arm around Kayla’s waist and pulled her close. “Great. That means I have you all to myself for a little while. Let’s get going before traffic gets crazy.”

*****

IT WAS HALF past noon by the time they reached the farm. All of the horses were out in their paddocks, while one of the boarders was riding her mare in the arena.

Mason parked his sleek sports car next to Kayla’s truck and cut the engine. One of the first things he’d done after they reconciled was grade the dirt road so his car wouldn’t suffer any more potholes. He swiveled in his seat to face her, and there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. It made her nervous, because she was usually pretty good at gauging his moods.

“Do you have time for a walk?” he asked her. “There was something I wanted to talk with you about.”

His question caught her off guard. Was something wrong? Replaying the last few hours in her mind, she couldn’t think of anything that would have upset him. “Um, sure.”

He let out a low laugh. “Relax, it’s nothing bad. At least I hope not.”

Holding hands, they strolled past the stable and around the arena, not stopping until they reached Harlan’s paddock. The stallion trotted up to the fence, most likely hoping to score peppermints. As always, she had a few tucked away in her purse. She dug one out, removed the wrapper, and placed it on her open palm. Harlan wasted no time; his lips brushed her skin as he scooped up the piece of candy.

“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked as she wiped her hand against her pants.

Mason hesitated. “You’re happy...with us, I mean. Right?”

“Yes, of course. Why would you even need to ask?”

He shrugged, a nervous gesture that looked completely out of place with a man like Mason. “I was just...aw, hell.” He dug into the left pocket of his dress slacks, pulled out a tiny round box, and held it out to her. “I got this for you.”

After a moment’s pause, she accepted the box and flipped the lid open. Inside was a pair of gold earrings shaped like stirrups with little diamond studs along the irons. “Oh, Mason, they’re beautiful. Thank you!”

“I’m glad you like them. I also got you something to match.”

He pulled out another box, this one from his right pocket. But instead of handing it to her, he bent down on one knee.

What was he—oh, God. Kayla’s jaw just about hit the ground.

Mason opened the box and held it out to her. Inside was a beautiful gold ring with a solitaire nestled between two diamond-studded stirrups. His eyes glinted with hope, his voice deeper and rougher than usual when he asked, “Kayla Marie Phillips, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“I—well—why wouldn’t I? Yes!”

Relief washed over his features, followed by an expression of absolute joy. He took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger, his lips brushing over her knuckles before letting go of her hand. Then he stood, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her with such reckless abandon her knees almost gave out.

“I love you,” he said, his lips brushing hers.

“I love you too.”

“That’s good, because you’re never getting rid of me.” He cupped her face with his hands. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her again, slowly, deliberately, as if he was savoring her. It made her dizzy, made her cling to him. Made her never want to let him go.

And now she wouldn’t have to. He was hers: mind, body, and soul.

Still riding high on a cloud of euphoria, she peered into the depths of his eyes. “I guess this means we have one more thing to celebrate. It’s a shame your brother won’t be here for the good news.”

Mason made a low sound in his throat. “Trust me, he’ll be here.”

She tilted her head. “What makes you so sure?”

“He has a thing for your sister.”

Lips pursed, Kayla shook her head. “No way. It’s Ethan who has the hots for her.”

“They both do. They just show it differently, which might make things interesting down the road.”

“Jeez, you’re not kidding.”

He shrugged. “They’ll figure it out on their own. They always do.”

Kayla glanced down at her watch. The party was set to begin in less than an hour, so they needed to start getting ready. But first, she had a question for Mason. “So what were you planning to do if I said no?”

A wicked grin spread over his face. “Throw you over my shoulder, carry you inside, and make love to you until you changed your mind.”

“Damn, I should have held out.”

She let out a yelp when he grabbed her round the waist and hoisted her into the air. In an instant, she was slung over his shoulder, staring downward at the wide dirt path.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you inside. I want to celebrate before everyone shows up.” Playfully, he slapped her ass as he started toward the house. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure to lock the bedroom door.”

Epilogue

*

CARTER PHILLIPS STARED out the side window of the taxi, taking in all the changes to the farm his family had owned for nearly a century.

His sister, Kayla, had been busy in the two years since he’d last set foot on the property. She’d acquired several tracts of land adjacent to the farm, increasing the overall size of the property to over two hundred fifty acres. In addition to the new roof on the stable, she’d also converted a large chunk of the undeveloped land into an open field for grazing.

At last count, there were thirty-eight horses on the farm, with plans to add more in the near future. To make that possible, she’d need to build an additional stable to accommodate the new arrivals.

The cab driver pulled in front of the house Carter’s great-grandfather had built. “That’ll be forty-eight sixty.”

Pretty steep, but it was worth every penny to see the look on his sister’s face when she saw him for the first time. With the exception of his brother-in-law, he hadn’t told anyone about his plans to come home: not his sisters, or his extended family, or the group of friends he used to hang out with before he enlisted in the Marines.

If it weren’t for that last mission in Mosul, he would have come home a lot sooner. But he’d been in the hospital for nearly a month, and from there it took another sixty-three days before his discharge papers were signed and processed.

After handing the driver enough money to cover the fare and a tip, Carter slung his bag over one shoulder and stepped out of the cab. Typical for Florida, it was hot and humid outside, and his sunglasses instantly fogged. Still, it was nothing compared to the scorching desert heat he’d dealt with overseas.

The trunk popped open, and he grabbed the large duffel bag that held the rest of his personal belongings. It wasn’t much, mostly clothes. He preferred traveling light and had left the rest of his things with his unit.

As the cab drove away, he could just make out the sound of Kayla’s voice in the distance. He smiled. She was barking orders, most likely to one of her students in the riding arena. Last he’d heard, one of them was preparing for the World Equestrian Games, and if horse and rider performed well enough, they had a shot at making the US Olympic team. To coach a rider at that level of competition would be a bittersweet accomplishment for Kayla, who came so close to making it to the games herself, only to have those dreams shattered by a terrible accident.

Ignoring the persistent ache in his shoulder, Carter started toward the house. Once he stowed his bags in his room, he’d cool his heels until his brother-in-law, Mason, arrived. They’d been talking via email for almost a week, planning out the details of his surprise homecoming. It was a shame his younger sister, Louise, wasn’t around, but she still had a few weeks’ worth of classes before her sophomore year of vet school came to a close.

The house was quiet when he went inside, which meant that Spanky, the family dog, was out roaming the paddocks. That wasn’t a surprise. The huge Great Dane-Mastiff mix loved romping around with the horses, even though the horses weren’t always appreciative of the attention.

He stopped for a moment as his eyes scanned the living room, each sight triggering memories from his childhood: The threadbare couch where he’d watched football every Sunday afternoon with his grandpa. The shelves that used to hold Kayla’s riding trophies but were now filled with books and knickknacks. The pale blue vase with the cracks along the sides from the time he’d accidentally knocked it off the counter. He’d done his best to glue it back together, but as soon as his grandma had taken one look at it, she knew that something wasn’t right. And although she hadn’t yelled at or punished him, just knowing he’d ruined something she loved had made him feel lower than dirt.

A thumping sound from one of the back bedrooms yanked Carter from his reminiscing. What the hell? With Mason at the office and Kayla in the arena, there shouldn’t be anyone inside the house.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

No answer.

All of his senses went on alert. The way he saw it, he could do one of two things: leave the house and call the police, or check out the source of the noise on his own. Of course, the choice was a no-brainer. He’d been trained to clear buildings, room by room, in the dark, while engaging and eliminating enemy targets. No way was he leaving his own damn house until he knew who was there and why.

He set his bags on the couch. He didn’t have any weapons in his bags, so he crossed to the kitchen and pulled a knife from the butcher’s block by the fridge. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Not making a sound, he crept down the long narrow hallway, avoiding the wood plank by the bathroom that creaked if you put any weight on it. His pulse kicked up a notch when he caught movement through a crack in the doorway to the bedroom that had once belonged to his grandparents. The last time he visited, the room was being used for storage, which meant no one had any business in there.

He was just about to shove the door open when it swung wide on its own. On the other side stood a tall young woman with shoulder-length black hair, looking almost as shocked as he was. She was beautiful, or at least that was his first impression, but he couldn’t say for sure because the next thing he knew, she screamed like a banshee and nailed him in the face with pepper spray.

THE END

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Carter’s story, Fractured, is now available! Click HERE for more info.

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I hope you enjoyed Driven: Book One in the Southern Alpha Series. If you have a moment, please consider leaving a review on your favorite online bookseller. Honest reviews from readers help authors and make it easier for people to find books they will enjoy.

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More Books by Lori Sjoberg:

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Southern Alphas (Contemporary Romance):

Driven

Fractured

Devoted

Denied (Coming Soon!)

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The Grave Series (Paranormal Romance):

Grave Intentions

Grave Destinations

Grave Vengeance

Grave Attraction