Unbridled Billionaire Page 2

  “I’d say so. Because I bought this horse from the home farm run by the late Mr. Macarthur’s widow, Marjorie.”

  While I was out of town on a consult...

  “I’m sure you did, Mr. Harrington.” Boy, that name was hard to force out from her constricted throat. “But it’s a matter of public record that Sun is owned by me, Mr. Macarthur’s only daughter. Not his widow.” She smiled as sweetly as she could fake. “Though we do own the business jointly, so I can see where such a misunderstanding could occur.”

  The sudden brooding look he shot her made her want to stammer, but she fought for control. Reaching into the side pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a copy of her ownership papers. “If you need proof, I have it right here.”

  To her consternation, he stalked forward. Though she knew he was coming for the papers, her heart sped up and her palms grew damp. Once more she knew it wasn’t all from the stress of this situation. This felt...personal. His long fingers brushed over hers as he took the pages, and a hot flush spread like wildfire through Presley’s limbs.

  What the heck was happening here?

  Granted, Presley wasn’t one to swoon. She was too busy taking care of business. But she could honestly say she’d never reacted to a man the way she had to Kane Harrington. It felt as if a tornado had taken up residence inside her body, swirling her emotions and reactions into a maelstrom she couldn’t control—or even make sense of. As Kane read over the papers, she had a brief reprieve to compose herself before he pinned her with his gaze once more.

  “Well, it seems we are at an impasse, Miss Macarthur.”

  “No.” She drew the word out as if he were a child in need of instruction. “This situation is very clear-cut. I’ll be taking Sun home, where he belongs.”

  “And the check I gave to Ms. Macarthur?”

  Presley struggled not to wince. “I assure you, your money will be returned to you in full.” No matter how much of a hit the business took because of it. Presley had a sneaking suspicion her stepmother had spent as much as possible before Presley could get wind of what happened.

  “And what about my reputation?”

  She cocked her head to the side, tightening her hand around Sun’s lead rope. “Excuse me?”

  Kane stepped closer, close enough to cast a shadow over her. “I bought this particular horse for a reason, Miss Macarthur. I’m sure you are fully aware of the jump start a stud of this caliber would give to our breeding program. That’s not the kind of thing I can find just anywhere.”

  “I do understand, but don’t really see where that is my problem.”

  But one look from Kane Harrington told her he was about to make it her problem. “I think the people around here would disagree with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We both know our businesses,” he said with a smooth confidence. “We know they run on reputation almost as much as the performance of our horses.”

  Oh, Presley knew all about that, having experienced the struggle to keep her stepmother out of the business of running their stables since her father’s death more than six months ago. Her stepmother didn’t know the meaning of tact or, hell, even business. All she saw were dollar signs, and she wanted more and more—no matter what she hurt in the process.

  They can scent a weak link better than a hound dog and will extort it worse than a lawyer. Never let them see weakness.

  Her father had repeated those words to her again and again, so why had he decided that his daughter and his wife should share the business he had worked so hard to build since before Presley was born? Her stepmother was the weakest link of all—and Presley had a feeling Kane Harrington knew that all too well.

  Wielding his power without noticeable effort, Kane moved closer, then had the gall to pace around her, making her temperature rise. The urge to move away became unbearable.

  Just as Kane reached her back, she slipped beneath Sun’s neck, putting the horse between them to avoid the unfamiliar arousal this man evoked deep inside. Yes, as much as she hated to give the feeling a name...

  Kane’s thick, dark eyebrows rose, but he didn’t call her out on her cowardice. “The way I see it, your stepmother has done something illegal. And then there’s the embarrassment of retracting the announcement that Sun would be joining the Harrington stables.” He loomed over the horse’s high back, pinning Presley with a steely-eyed glare that should have made her mad but instead sent intriguing shivers up and down her spine.

  “If my reputation is gonna take a hit over this, so is yours,” he assured her.

  Anyone who thought the customer was always right had never been in just this situation with just this man. One look told Presley she was about to make many concessions—whether she wanted to or not.

  Two

  Kane could tell the moment Presley Macarthur realized he wasn’t letting her off the hook without consequences. She was pretty good at hiding her expression—but her gorgeous, moss-green eyes gave her away.

  They told him she was going to try to get out of this somehow.

  “I’m really s-s-sorry about that—”

  Kane shouldn’t be happy about that stammer, shouldn’t wish it was from more than just the pressure he was bringing to bear. It marked him as a bad person, surely. But it didn’t stop the satisfaction from rushing in. The curiosity.

  Whoa. This game is fun.

  “So you’re sorry your stepmother made a mistake. How do you plan to make it up to me?”

  Only as her eyes widened did he realize how that might sound—and not just the words. An attraction, a need sparked by this woman had given his voice a husky quality. He hadn’t had this type of reaction with a single debutante since he’d moved back to Kentucky.

  Hell, years before that, even.

  Why this particular woman? She wasn’t flashy like the diamond-studded princesses in the main house. Her dress was pretty enough, made of a nice-quality material, but its loose style didn’t reveal a single curve. Kane was intrigued by what might be waiting underneath for him to discover. And this close, he noticed another significant difference. Whereas every woman he’d met tonight wore makeup to a greater or lesser extent, Presley Macarthur’s face was clean and clear, without so much as tinted lip gloss to highlight the sexy curves of her naked lips.

  Suddenly her gaze narrowed, and she pulled herself a little taller. “What do you mean, exactly?”

  The pushback intrigued him, too. The last thing he wanted was a weak woman, one who needed taking care of—that type was his kryptonite, as Emily had proven all too well. Before him was an attractive woman who obviously knew and ran her own business. If the gossip he’d heard was correct, Presley also did consulting on equine and stable management. So she was smart, not easily intimidated. Kane was going to have to get creative to recoup this loss.

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

  Blackmail?

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

  Not tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “So?”

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

  “Together?”

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

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

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

  “Are you sure about that?”

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

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

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

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

  “Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “As in a date?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “But you will pretend to be my lover.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Shall we?”

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

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

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

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

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