Something to Talk About

“He’s starting to get underfoot? I can—”

“No. Nothing like that.” He put a hand on top of her fluttering one, a reflex reaction to her concern that suddenly drop-kicked him in the libido. The feel of her soft skin under his palm sent a surge of heat clean through him, the awareness a palpable thing between them.

She stilled, frozen, her hand in midair beneath his. He would have moved away faster if he could have sent the proper set of messages along his neurons, but his body didn’t seem to obey. He stood there for a long moment, absorbing the silken texture of her and breathing her scent.

She recovered first, snatching her hand away quickly even if the reaction had been delayed.

“Then what is it?” Her words were a little breathless, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

“Kiefer wants to learn how to ride.” He was grateful for the words once he got them past his lips. They gave him something new to think about.

“I know he does, but honestly, I can’t afford—”

“Amanda, you haven’t gotten to know the Prestons well enough yet if you think we would want you to pay for outside lessons when you work at the biggest horse-training facility in the Commonwealth of Kentucky.”

“Really, I couldn’t ask for any special favors.” Her words were firm, her posture perfectly straight. She had “good girl” written on her so clearly he couldn’t help but smile, although he didn’t find her ethics half so amusing as he found his attraction to someone so sweetly upstanding. His sketchy track record with women ran more to the hell-raising variety, but there was no denying his physical response to Amanda.

“It’s not a special favor.” He gestured to the house behind her. “You’re already standing in my mother’s foyer, having cocktails with the neighbors. Trust me when I tell you, we want you to feel like family here.” He might not agree with all the family’s decisions, but Robbie was proud of the way they treated their staff. The corporate culture was decidedly down-home here. “And I just wanted your blessing that Kiefer has permission to ride before I let him on a horse. But I hope you’d never consider outsourcing riding lessons when you live here. We tend to know our horses around Quest Stables.”

She grinned. “I guess you have a point there.”

“As long as you don’t mind, I can send Kiefer back to school with enough horse knowledge to set the other kids back a few steps.” His knowledge might not impress the old man, but it could knock the socks off fourth graders.

“That would be really generous of you.” She pulled the thin lace shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the fabric hard as if she could ward off the attraction zinging around the room. “But if he gets to be any trouble, I hope you’ll let me know.”

“I can do that. Although the traditional way to straighten out any troublemaking in a stable is to present the offender with a pitchfork and a stall for mucking.”

“I see you know kids better than I realized.”

“I’ve had a bit of a history with troublemaking myself.”

“And your days with a pitchfork successfully reformed you?”

“I’m going to have to plead the Fifth on that one.”

Behind Amanda, the voices from the veranda grew louder as two men disputed the racing odds at an upcoming meet. A door slammed and the violin stopped playing.

“They must be coming in for dinner.” Amanda turned toward the sound before glancing back at him. “I’m not staying for the meal, but I should go in and make my goodbyes before they sit down.”

He nodded, not wanting to cross paths with his family yet.

“Fine. I’ll wait for you and walk you to your car.” He didn’t know why he offered.

No, he knew why he offered. He wished he had a little more restraint since she was clearly reluctant where he was concerned.

“That’s not necessary. Thank you for the offer of lessons for Kiefer.” She stepped away, eager to please his parents and play the proper guest.

“Not a problem.” He smiled genially, but stood his ground and waited for her return.

She might think they had settled matters between them now that they’d agreed on Kiefer riding. But in Robbie’s mind, they’d only succeeded in uncovering a bigger issue. And like any elephant in a room, the attraction between them wouldn’t go away just because they ignored it.

These had to be some of the warmest people Amanda had ever met.

She shook hands with several of the Prestons’ friends and said her goodbyes, surprised to feel such easy acceptance after a short amount of time at Quest Stables. The unquestioning welcome, the gracious attempts to make her feel at home, helped ease the transition from her friends and family back in L.A.

As she walked toward the foyer and the front door to leave for the night, she realized that if she wasn’t so scared of the past following her, she would be throwing herself into her new life. She might even have explored the source of that steady regard in Robbie Preston’s eyes every time she was around….

But that was foolish.

As her high heels clicked down the polished hardwood, she chided herself for thinking like that about a man who was not only a decade younger than her but also her employer’s son. And besides that, since when did she think about the “regard” in any man’s eyes? She’d barely looked at a carrier of the Y chromosome since—

“I tried to leave,” Robbie announced, his long, lean frame unfolding from where he’d been sitting on a chair in the foyer. “But with the sun setting earlier and you being new in town, I couldn’t let you navigate your way to your car on your own.”

Shrugging, he offered her his arm and she stared at it for a moment, knowing this contact with him could be dangerous.

Then she gave herself a mental shake. Dangerous for her maybe. A gorgeous, wealthy male like Robbie Preston surely didn’t feel the same pulse of awareness when they were together that she did. He probably had women falling all over themselves to give him a lot more than a little company for a stroll across the grass.

She was being silly.

Reaching out to him, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

“Is this part of that legendary Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” She kept her tone light, reminding herself that he probably viewed her as nothing more than a nice older woman. A mother. An employee.

He held the door for her and they stepped out onto the wide front porch. The stars were popping out as the cooler air greeted them. She pulled her shawl closer and warded off a sudden shiver.

“Actually, there are plenty of people who would argue that Kentucky isn’t part of either the south or the north.” He slowed his pace as she prepared to step down onto the front walk. “Southerners think this is the north and Northerners consider this the south, so we’re in the unique position of not being claimed by either one.”

Her heel hitched on a high spot as they stepped out onto the grass and she had no choice but to squeeze his arm to steady herself. Just for a moment.

Solid muscle lurked beneath his soft chambray work shirt. And yes, she only noticed that as a matter of curiosity. Robbie was a handsome man with a compelling presence and powerful physique—all things that any woman would notice, she hoped.

Then again, perhaps the cocktail she’d had with Jenna Preston’s friends accounted for a hyper awareness that felt both embarrassing and uncomfortable.

“Well maybe it’s not a north-south issue, but a Kentucky trait. I’ve been the recipient of amazing kindness since I moved here.” She peered around the lawn looking for her car. There were many more people parked along either side of the driveway than when she’d first arrived.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Robbie pointed out her compact car parked behind an exotic foreign number. “Is this you over here?”

“Is it that easy to pick out the hired help’s cars?” She was definitely out of her element here. Although she’d been pleased enough with the outfit she’d pulled together from her closet tonight, she knew a converted bridesmaid’s dress and a bargain warehouse lace shawl didn’t give her the same style points as the women who moved in the racing world. At least she wore the same size she had in college and she favored classic pieces, so she had a few old dresses in her wardrobe.

The dresses she’d seen on guests tonight had been the kind women ordered off runways or—at the very least—snapped up in tony boutiques.

Robbie paused to peer down at her in the night now gone almost fully dark.

“I remembered seeing a car like this with California plates, so I figured it must belong to our only west-coast transplant.” His forehead scrunched and she realized he was disappointed or perhaps upset that she had misinterpreted his words. “And I want you to know that an abundance of money has never been an indicator of anyone’s character in my eyes.”

His words soothed her even if she didn’t want to admit she’d been a smidge intimidated tonight.

“Of course.” She nodded quickly, all too aware of his presence beneath the rising luminescent moon. With the cool night air blowing around her skirt hem and brushing her shawl along her arms like a lover’s fingers, she could almost get caught up in a moment she had no business being in. And sweet stars in heaven, what was the matter with her? “I couldn’t help but notice every car but mine cost more than my last house. I hadn’t counted on so much…glamour when I came to work at a Kentucky horse farm. It doesn’t sound like such a sophisticated job on paper, but now that I’m here, I can’t help but see a really different lifestyle than what I’d expected.”

She released his arm, determined to extricate herself from whatever moonlight madness had taken hold of her tonight. Pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders, she moved toward the car.

“Amanda?”

His voice halted her, the smoky warmth of it sliding down her spine and making her shiver.

If she didn’t work for him—for his family—she would have damned the consequences of being rude and simply hurried away. She prayed the feelings he stirred up tonight were merely a weird by-product of all the changes in her life, the new faces and places, and being caught up in an evening where she was just a woman and not a mother. Her dress made her feel vulnerable, too aware of herself in a way that her chinos and polo shirts never did.

And what if this attraction was all one-sided? Maybe she imagined the response she felt in him. For all she knew, he could be silently laughing at her—or be totally shocked—because of their age difference.

Pausing, she dug for her keys in a tiny evening bag and waited for him to speak, her heels sinking into the soft bluegrass the longer she stood still. Would she sink into this place—this lifestyle—just as surely?

The Prestons’ home glittered with lights as it sprawled across the lawn behind Robbie, and Amanda suspected it would be all too easy to find new happiness here. If only she didn’t have to worry about bringing trouble with her wherever she went.

“If you need any help settling in, I wish you’d give me a call.” His dark-blue eyes held hers in the moonlight—and damn it, why did she have to remember his eyes were the exact shade of the Pacific right before a storm blew in?

Giving into a childish impulse, she squeezed her eyes tight for a moment to break the connection. Or maybe she needed to shut out the dark charm of this charismatic horse trainer who’d already won over her son.

Wrenching open her lids, she forced herself to smile. Nod. Tug her heels out of the earth so she could back up another step.

“Thank you, Robbie.” His name felt too personal as she wrapped her lips around the word. “We’re already feeling at home here, but I appreciate that.”

Fumbling with her keys, she found the right one and inserted it into the lock.

“Thanks for letting me work with Kiefer on his riding. He’s a great kid.”

Amanda’s maternal heart glowed with the small stroke of praise even as she hoped he wouldn’t say more. It was bad enough she already felt an uneasy feminine response to this man. If he could appeal to the more fierce side of her—her motherly sensibilities—she’d be toast.

“It’s me who should be grateful.” One more nod. Smile. She sank into the driver’s seat and lifted a cheery wave. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

He probably returned the nicety, but Amanda lost herself in a whirlwind of activity inside the car. She shut the door, jangled her keys into place in the ignition and turned the engine over. She had mirrors to check and windows to look out—so long as all her focus was on backing up and not on backing away from Robbie Preston. Only when she was safely out on the driveway and ready to take off did she brave a quick glance at the man who had her wound so tight.

Sure enough his eyes were on her.

And just like that a jolt of pure, unadulterated feminine pleasure pulsed through her veins, making her feel more alive than she had in…a long time. Heaven help her.

Within the next second, she made the decision to stay as far away from Robbie Preston as possible.

Chapter Four

Amanda Emory should not have been on his mind.

Robbie waved to the exercise rider currently working with a claiming horse on the Polytrack outside the paddock. Nodding, the rider pressed the horse harder while Robbie forced himself to concentrate on his job. Normally, he prided himself on offering the lower-quality claiming horses and the allowance horses the same thorough attention he gave to the stakes horses that ran in the major races. But today, despite the strong workout from the focused filly, Robbie found himself remembering the worry in Amanda’s eyes the week before when he’d walked her to her car. Tapping his pencil against his clipboard, he jotted some notes about the filly’s increased weight and muscle definition. The new maturity really showed in her gait and confidence as she aced the breezing workout.

And why did Amanda seem more nervous than a yearling with a new trainer?

Jabbing his pencil back into the clip along the top of the board, he waved off the exercise rider and moved on to the next horse. A few fall leaves stirred around his feet despite the lingering warm weather. He’d been thinking about Amanda all week, unable to concentrate on his training programs with the same insight he normally brought to the exercise yard. A cranky owner had groused at him about something the day before—a confrontation that would have set him off at any other time, since this particular owner never put his horses’ needs first—but Robbie had shrugged off the complaints easily since he’d been ruminating about why Amanda would be uncomfortable around him.

Because it couldn’t be just about the attraction.

He knew she felt it the same way he knew she didn’t want to feel it. He could read her body language the way he could read a temperamental filly’s when she needed more exercise or a day of rest. That intuitiveness had created half the problems in his family relationships; he’d always been able to sense his father’s disappointment in him even if Thomas didn’t verbalize it, and that had made Robbie resentful from an early age.

So he didn’t doubt that the awareness he felt was fully reciprocated on her end. What he didn’t understand was the source of her worry. He guessed the emotion ran deeper than any surface resistance to being attracted to him.

Amanda Emory was a woman of complex thoughts and feelings—the kind of woman he usually left well enough alone, since his life as the black-sheep Preston had been enough of a mess on its own. But like everything else about his connection to Amanda, that didn’t make sense either.

“Are you losing your touch, boy?” a familiar voice called from behind him.

Robbie turned to see his grandfather ambling up the small rise toward the exercise yard, his worn jeans and long-sleeved plaid shirt never hinting at his multimillionaire status. Behind him, the spread of Quest Stables made a hell of a scene, the rolling hills and meadows in the distance, the bluegrass starting to dry out with autumn in the wind, the leaves starting to drop—a thousand acres of prime horse country.

At eighty-six years old, Hugh still liked to spend time around the stables—almost as much as he enjoyed checking out races around the globe with his horse-crazy cronies, guys who’d come up in the racing world along with him. But Hugh would have been as comfortable on a ranch out west as on a farm in Kentucky. As long as there were horses nearby, he was content.

Except for right now, it seemed.

“What’s the matter, Granddad?” Robbie waved to the colt’s rider to initiate the workout while Hugh joined him at the rail.

“I saw you let that filly finish her workout without talking to the rider about how she felt from his point of view.” Hugh raised a hand when Robbie started to protest. “I know you’ve got a schedule to keep, but that filly looked better than she has all summer.”

Robbie staunched an inward sigh, respecting his grandfather’s perspective. Besides, hadn’t he been chastising himself for the same thing his granddad complained about?

“You’re right.” He nodded. Took his lumps like a man. At least Granddad said what was on his mind instead of letting problems fester beneath the skin.

Like his father.

“What?” Hugh frowned as he clapped Robbie on the shoulder. “No argument from the family rabble rouser? I thought you were always spoiling for a fight?”

Hugh’s weathered face split into a grin and then the two men assumed the same position at the fence—one boot up on the bottom rail and arms folded along the top.

“How can I argue when you’re right? I should have talked to the rider. But I did make a note to call the owner and let him know the filly is showing more promise. Her sire never brought much performance to the track, but this horse could be a whole different package.”

The sun shone warm on his arms as Robbie tracked the colt now making the first easy laps of his workout. This was why he had got into training—the freedom to work outside and be his own boss. Except for the head trainer’s occasional input, there was no one to tell Robbie how to do his job out here. Horses didn’t argue. At least not in so many words.

“So, if you already know everything your old Pops came over here to say, care to explain why you’re off your stride?” Hugh stole his clipboard to look over the notes Robbie had been making on the day’s workouts.

Robbie never lied to this man. Nor did he hedge. It was a point of honor between the most outspoken men in the Preston clan that even when they were forced to control their tongues around other family members, they never bothered with such social caginess around each other.

Which left Robbie fairly tongue-tied at the moment.

“Ah!” Hugh’s head popped up from the clipboard, his gray hair lifting in the breeze. “The eloquent sound of silence says it all.”

Blue eyes twinkling, the older man gave a knowing grin.

“It’s not what you think.” Robbie didn’t want to tread down this road today, not even with one of his favorite people.

“And what do I think? Give your grandfather some credit for having eyes, son. I didn’t get as far as I did in this business reading horses without gaining a few skills in reading people, too. You’ve got the same talent as me, so you know what I say isn’t just some trackside bettor blowing smoke.” Hugh passed back the clipboard. “You should have told me you were having woman trouble and I would have understood exactly why you’re off your game today.”

Robbie jammed the training notes under his arm.

“I’m not having trouble with a woman.” He had no business thinking about Amanda anyway. She just had a way of creeping into his thoughts when his mind was quiet.

And, if he was honest, even when it wasn’t.

“Who is she? Some gal up in Twisted River you haven’t bothered to bring around here?” Hugh pounded a fist on the fence post. “Damn it, boy, we don’t know what’s going on with you since you let your father chase you out of the house.”

Here we go.

Robbie steeled himself for the battle.

“Granddad, you know we don’t see eye-to-eye on this.” He stared out at the training yard and caught sight of Melanie coming in on Leopold’s Legacy.

Both men waved as she turned the horse in their direction.

“We should see eye-to-eye since I’ve been telling you not to let your father get under your skin since you were four years old.” Hugh grumbled, groused and then put the subject away. “So help me, I want to meet this woman you’ve been thinking about. Do you hear?”

Robbie nodded absently because his grandfather would never let it go otherwise.

“How did he do today?” Robbie called out to his sister, envious of the way her duties as a jockey allowed her to ride far from the drama that always seemed to be circulating around the main house. His new set-up, residing in one of the staff cabins, might have removed him from the continual disagreements with his father and the rift between him and his brothers, but the arrangement brought new problems.

He had the distinct feeling it made the other staffers less at ease to have a Preston in their midst. There was a guardedness around the cabins now that had never been there when he used to pass by as a visitor.

“He ran like a champion.” Melanie shook her head, her shoulders drooping. “He could be earning fat purses and the adoration of the whole racing community if it wasn’t for this mystery about his sire.”

A groom came over to take the reins from Melanie as she slid to the ground beside them.

“It’s the damnedest thing I’ve heard of,” Hugh declared, shaking his head over the issue that was never far from any Preston’s mind these days. “I’ll bet you any money it’s some computer error. Back when we used to keep information in file drawers, people knew how to access it. Now that everything is done by computer, people don’t know how to make their own damn breakfast without some bleeping machine telling them how to do it.”

Robbie watched the groom walk away with Leopold’s Legacy. Not so long ago, he and Melanie would have exchanged a wink over Granddad’s tirade. But these days, they hoped he had a point and there was some computer error behind the discrepancy in Leopold’s Legacy’s blood work.

As Melanie launched into her ideas for clearing the horse to run in Dubai next month, Robbie’s eyes snagged on a figure walking up a path from the stables toward the Quest offices.

A sweetly feminine figure he’d been seeing in his mind’s eye all day.

“Would you excuse me?” He tossed out the question as a social nicety but didn’t stick around for the answer. Plunking his training notes on a nearby bench, he stepped away from his sister and grandfather, his eyes glued to Amanda Emory and her tense body language.

With one elbow bent and her hand at her ear, she appeared to be on a cell phone. Her shoulders were rigid and her lips pulled into a taut line as she stalked past an urn of red flowers along the asphalt path that wound through much of the property.

As he neared her, she became aware of his presence and lowered her chin as if to keep her conversation private. He hadn’t meant to intrude on a talk he had no business hearing.

Which made him wonder who she might be talking to. He’d never considered there might be someone else in her life. Someone she’d turned to after her husband’s death…

And now he felt like a real jerk for barging into her personal life. He had backed up a step to leave when she pressed the off button on her phone and looked him in the eye.

“I’m sorry if I intruded—” he started.

Then he saw the expression on her face. The tense brow, the widened eyes, the skin paler than it should be.

“What is it?” He stepped closer now, automatically concerned by anything that would upset her. Their attraction aside, she seemed like a nice lady who’d been through too much.

He watched her tuck her phone into a pocket of her long skirt. She was back to work clothes today, a simple yellow blouse tucked into a red skirt with yellow tulips around the hem.