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  Presley stepped uncomfortably close, lowering her voice. “Not something you have an unlimited amount of anymore. And if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll do everything in my power to have Grant break Father’s will. Do you understand me?”

  “He couldn’t.”

  “He’s a great lawyer. I’m sure he could manage it for me.”

  Something in her expression must have scared Marjorie, because she focused on Presley’s face and remained silent for a long moment. Finally she gave a stiff nod, then blinked, and the flighty society lady was back in action. “No need to be so serious, dear. This is a fun night. For you more than most, am I right?”

  It was no use. All the anger and frustration flooding Presley’s veins had nowhere to go, no way out. Some days she thought running around in endless circles with her stepmother would never end. Why her father had subjected her to this particular hell, she’d never know.

  And despite the threat she’d just made, she had little expectation of any change. The next shiny diamond to cross Marjorie’s path would catch her attention and block out all reason.

  Leaving Presley with another six-foot-four-inch problem to solve—a magnitude totally out of her league.

  Kane’s response didn’t exactly put her fears to rest. “I assure you, Ms. Macarthur, Presley and I have gotten off to a very good start. And we will be seeing a great deal of each other in the future.”

  His words should have heaped another helping onto her pile of worry. Instead anticipation tingled in her stomach, warming her from the inside out. This was wrong. All wrong.

  Presley preferred situations she could control.

  “That settles that, then,” her stepmother offered with a toothy grin.

  Marjorie’s problems always disappeared. Presley’s merely grew. And she had a feeling she was way out of her depth on this one.

  Four

  Kane wasn’t sure he was surprised when the woman who answered the Macarthurs’ front door told him, “Miss Presley is almost always in the barn.” The Presley he’d met the night before certainly wasn’t a Miss Kentucky pageant type. But he had to admit he didn’t have a lot of experience with daughters of bigwigs who were willing to get their hands dirty.

  He was used to the daughters of fellow laborers, who loved animals and worked just as hard as any of the men.

  He certainly hadn’t expected to hear Presley’s raised voice as he closed the stable door behind him. Several hands at the far end of the aisle kept their heads down and focused intently on their work, pointedly ignoring the noise. A lone man stood in the aisle closer to Kane, stance rigid, arms crossed over his chest, gaze trained tightly on the open stall in front of him until Kane walked into his peripheral vision.

  Their eyes met as Presley’s hardened voice continued to boom out from inside a nearby stall. She was scolding someone Kane couldn’t see. “I realize she doesn’t like her hooves cleaned. First of all, if you can’t work around that, you aren’t good enough or experienced enough to be employed here. Second of all, if you ever lay a hand on any of my horses like that again, it’s the last horse you’ll touch in this barn. Do I make myself clear?”

  There was a silence, and Kane saw the man in front of him tense up even more, if that was possible. From within the stall, the employee being reprimanded replied with a tight “yes, ma’am.”

  Then Kane’s companion in the aisle relaxed.

  “Now,” Presley said, her voice turning indulgent as though she was trying to teach something to a particularly hardheaded child, “I’ll do one hoof for you, then you can do the others while I watch.”

  No argument was forthcoming. Kane grinned, imagining the grown stable hand being taken back to Hoof Cleaning 101 and the ribbing he would get from his coworkers later today. Sounded like he deserved it, though.

  The man who stood before Kane in the aisle finally held a hand out to him. “Hello there. I’m Bennett, the Macarthurs’ stable manager.”

  Kane shook, introducing himself in turn. He jerked his head in the direction of the stall. “Shouldn’t you be dealing with that?”

  Bennett shrugged. “Usually I do, but Miss Presley is a very hands-on owner. Has been since her daddy first brought her into the stables.” He turned his gaze back to the stall door as if checking progress. “There are certain things she will always handle herself. Mistreatment, no matter how small, is something she’s adamant about being informed of immediately. We have a zero-tolerance policy here.”

  “But she didn’t throw him out on his ass at the first sign?”

  “Depends on what happens. She’s also a fair employer. She understands that many of these men have families to support or are just learning their trade.” Bennett’s craggy face softened with approval. “The men know it, too. They don’t cross her. We rarely have problems, but she’s quick to handle whatever comes along.”

  So she had experience along with her degree in equine management. No wonder she was well respected. Kane had done a little digging before showing up this morning, just to double-check the information he’d gathered from the grapevine. But he hadn’t just been after her business credentials—EvaMarie had known a lot more about Presley personally, piquing Kane’s interest on a totally different topic.

  Her reluctance to make personal appearances at parties had been well noted throughout the years, often leaving her open to ridicule from other women in their social circle. While her business reputation had been solid long before her father’s death, her social reputation had often floundered. After watching Presley for those few moments with Marjorie the night before, he could easily guess why.

  She’d never been allowed to find her true footing. To be herself in the face of peer pressure from society’s little darlings. Kane’s sudden desire to help her set off alarm bells in his head. The last thing he should do was attempt to fix anyone. He’d been down that road before, and he simply wasn’t built for it.

  It was the only thing he’d ever failed at in his life.

  But Presley was a whole different ball game from Emily. The last thing she needed was taking care of—as her management skills attested. If Kane could help her tweak her public persona while they were together, it would simply be an added bonus of their arrangement. He was way more interested in what would happen in private when their time in the spotlight was done.

  “See, you just have to know how to handle her. Now go help Arden get the water tank fixed,” he heard Presley command.

  Something about her confidence made Kane smile—and his body come to attention. Presley wouldn’t be a limp, lazy princess who expected someone to make her happy in bed. Oh, no, this woman would be a full participant.

  Not that he should be considering that so soon...

  As a shamefaced man came out the stall door with his thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, Bennett directed him down the aisle with a jerk of his head. He glanced as Kane. “That could have ended very badly, with fussin’ and fightin’. But not with Miss Presley. Somehow she can take ’em to task, put ’em on the right path and get everyone movin’ forward without a knock-down-drag-out.” He winked. “But I’m always nearby, just in case.”

  Bennett followed his employee down the aisle, leaving Kane to approach the stall door all alone.

  Presley’s murmured words to the mare soothed Kane’s nerves, which he now realized had been standing at attention from the first moment he’d heard her raised voice. Unfortunately, the sight of her as she bent over and carefully inspected each of the horse’s hooves had other things coming to attention, too.

  Last night, Presley’s flowy dress had been hiding some serious curves. Today she wore a very soft-looking T-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. Rounded hips blossomed from a tiny waist hugged by denim. When she stood to pat the horse’s back, he saw that the cotton of her shirt clung just as faithfully in all th
e right places.

  Holy hell. He was in trouble...so why was he grinning like an idiot?

  He forced his gaze upward, only to encounter a glare directed his way. Funny, it didn’t dampen his excitement. “Hello, Presley.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, narrowing her gaze on him.

  “Watching you in action,” he replied, fully understanding how much that would aggravate her. “I’m impressed.”

  To his surprise, she had quite a sarcastic mouth on her. “I’m so glad you liked what you saw.”

  But her bravado didn’t stop a flush spreading over her cheeks. Perhaps as a gentleman, he should clarify his previous comment. “There’s a difference between appreciating a woman and disrespecting her—my mama taught me that.”

  “So you’re respectfully blackmailing me?”

  “Considering the concessions I’ve made, isn’t it more of a mutual agreement than blackmail?”

  “An agreement I’m forced to enter into if I don’t want my family and business reputation ruined... I think that does qualify as blackmail.”

  That bossy tone should not be so arousing. And he couldn’t deny her logic. “Maybe I wanted to spend time with you.”

  “A woman you didn’t know?” She scoffed. “You’d be the first.”

  With just those few words, she confirmed EvaMarie’s story from this morning. Kane kept silent.

  Sticking to his stance might take away his gentleman card, but he wouldn’t miss what was coming for the world.

  Presley skirted around the horse’s rump, making her way to a clipboard on top of a cupboard by the door. “Most men are only hoping for one thing when they spend time with me,” she said, studying the papers with unnecessary intensity. “My expertise with horses.”

  Kane nodded, even though she pretended she wasn’t watching him. But he saw the quick sideways glance, no matter how brief.

  She continued, “Not frilly dresses and small talk.”

  Deciding she’d had enough time to spout nonsense, he crossed the threshold of the stall. To her credit, she didn’t retreat as he neared. He didn’t box her in but got close enough that he could smell her shampoo. “There are things a lot sexier than social niceties.”

  It was too soon, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to sample some of the thick blond strands of hair in her ponytail. Silky—just as he’d imagined.

  “Why are you touching me?” she asked.

  Her tone wasn’t quite as breathless as he’d have liked. He sensed just a hint of excitement.

  “You’re right,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m simply fascinated by the color, texture.”

  She smoothed her hands over her hair. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  That’s what her mouth said, but as soon as he looked up to catch her eyes, she glanced away. Avoidance. At least it confirmed what he suspected was happening here. Time for a different approach: honesty. “Look, Presley. I know that this might be uncomfortable. I’m simply trying to make things more natural between us.”

  “I don’t think I like it.”

  “But you aren’t sure?”

  She stiffened, her look transforming into a glare. “That’s incredibly sexist.”

  “Or incredibly honest.” He pushed on, leaving the inference of his own interest behind for the moment. There was another way to get her riled up, which he enjoyed far too much. “I told you, touching is expected. Would you rather we practice in public?”

  “I’d rather not practice at all.”

  “But practice makes perfect. Besides, I find I enjoy touching you. It’s okay if you like it, too. It doesn’t have to go any further than, well, public displays of affection.”

  Presley opened her mouth to speak, then paused. She studied him for a moment, but he had the feeling she wasn’t really looking at him. “Why do I feel like we’ve covered this before?”

  He let his amusement mold his mouth...just a little. “Guess it’s something we’ll have to keep doing until we get it right between us.”

  Her perfect bow-shaped lips twitched, lush in their natural state. He could swear she was holding in laughter. “Like, practice?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her entire face opened up, letting her enjoyment of the moment shine through her earlier irritation. Seeing Presley give in to her amusement was sexy as hell. Her smile was wide and unself-conscious, her eyes bright and seeking his. When he laughed with her, the glow increased like a power surge.

  Gorgeous.

  A noise interrupted them. Kane turned to see Bennett in the doorway. Presley’s laughter shut off instantly.

  “Miss Presley, Sun is ready.”

  Kane watched from the corner of his eye as she nodded. Bennett left, but Presley continued to stare at the doorway. She shifted. She swallowed. Kane waited her out.

  “Was there something you needed, Kane?” she finally asked.

  Did she worry about him being too close to the stud? “I did want to speak with you. Iron out a few details.”

  “Well, I have things I need to do right now.”

  As if that would stop him. “I don’t mind tagging along.”

  From the look on her face, Kane could tell she wasn’t sure what to feel. Ah, he was making progress...

  * * *

  Presley preceded Kane down the barn corridor, feeling flustered. Why in the world hadn’t she told him to hit the road? She should have. After all, the man was completely taking advantage of a situation she had no control over.

  But she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when she’d first spotted him in the doorway. He could have leered. He could have been indifferent. But the pure male appreciation wasn’t something she’d encountered before today. Oh, men had told her she was pretty, though it never rang true. But something about Kane’s gaze, unsullied by greed or arrogance, was special.

  Maybe that was why she hadn’t fought this harebrained scheme harder. Maybe she was more than a little interested to see exactly how this would all go. There was probably something very wrong with that line of thinking, but Presley was nothing if not honest with herself.

  When they got to Sun’s stall, Kane didn’t force his way in or try to take over. She’d come across a lot of men who thought they knew better than a woman in the stables...until she taught them they were wrong. It didn’t take a huge confrontation or butting of heads. She simply let them go on until they ran out of steam, then stepped in and quietly set them straight.

  Unless she needed to raise her voice. Then she did.

  Nodding to Bennett, who was already in the stall, Presley put her hand on Sun’s withers and whispered near the horse’s ear. He whipped his head around fast, and Presley heard Kane’s step behind her, but she didn’t flinch. They’d played this game before, her and Sun. The horse didn’t bite or hit her with his heavy head. Instead he corrected at the last minute and pressed the side of his muzzle against her shoulder, pushing hard. She stumbled, chuckling, then reached up to give him a rough rub behind his ears.

  “Likes to play, does he?” Kane asked.

  Bennett laughed from his position on Sun’s other side. “Believe it or not, he’s like a big kid. And she’s incredible with him.”

  Presley felt warmth creep into the pit of her stomach. No matter how often someone complimented her on her knowledge, it was this connection with the animals in her care that meant the most to her. Especially with Sun.

  She checked him over quickly, just to make sure in the daylight that there were no adverse effects from last night’s quick trip. Then she and Bennett discussed what he needed over the next week. Her big baby got a good rubbing and a piece of apple she was hiding in her pocket before they left.

  After locking Sun back down, Bennett said goodbye to them outside the stud’s stall door
and went to tend to the other horses.

  “He’s right, you know,” Kane said, “I’ve never seen anyone so in tune with horses.”

  Presley ducked her head, embarrassed by Kane’s compliment, even while that warm glow spread. “They can be sensitive creatures. It’s all about knowing them, what they need. Of course, Sun and I go way back.” Maybe that’s why the horse was the one thing her daddy had willed to her alone. “Daddy bought him for me the year my mother died,” she found herself adding.

  Wow, what a maudlin subject to introduce. But Kane didn’t hesitate before he asked, “How old?”

  Though she now regretted bringing it up, she answered, “Six.”

  “I was fifteen when my mother died after a long fight with cancer.”

  She glanced at him in surprise. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she might have remembered this about the Harrington family but had forgotten in the loads of other, more recent, gossip. His dark eyes were solemn, his gaze direct. It almost made her feel as though she could actually talk to him about things—private things she mostly kept to herself now that her daddy was gone.

  “Did your father also insist on bringing in a new mommy?” she murmured, though she did add a bit of a smirk to lighten the impact of her question.

  Kane smiled too, but his dark gaze remained serious. “Nope. From then on out, it was just us guys. Action movies and baseball games. When we were older, beer and pizza nights.”

  “That must have been nice...”

  “What must have been nice?” Marjorie’s voice was jarring, not just because it was so close and loud, but because Presley could only remember one other time her stepmother had ventured into the stables. She’d never been back.

  Presley quickly closed her gaping mouth as Marjorie appeared from behind Kane.

  Kane didn’t flinch, of course. “We were just talking about remarrying.”

  “I see,” Marjorie said, nodding as if she had all the knowledge in the world. Her bejeweled pantsuit and heels were completely out of place in her surroundings. “I’m afraid our girl has never appreciated what her father and I tried to do for her. I’m sure you were more grateful to your father...”