Cowboy Country (64 page)

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Authors: Sandy Sullivan,Deb Julienne,Lilly Christine,RaeAnne Hadley,D'Ann Lindun

BOOK: Cowboy Country
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“Of course. I’m here to tell you anything you need to know.” she grinned back, thrilled that he was interested in her riding.

“Anything?” The suggestive tone in his voice caught her off guard and she felt her body tense and her face flush. “Relax, Rebecca. I’m teasing you.” he laughed.

She tittered lightly and looked away, nervously avoiding his eyes which caused her to lose focus too easily.

“Ah, here we are.” he chuckled, knowing he had her on edge.

She watched in awe as large, iron gates swung in towards the property. The driveway wound and disappeared into a forest of gigantic leafy trees. As they continued up the drive, the trees ended and acres of lush, green manicured lawn took their place. A large lake on the left side had a spouting fountain and a pair of swans and several ducks played and splashed in the waterfall. A rainbow formed by the falling water created a postcard picture, including a pair of white stone benches that lined the water’s edge. The cement drive turned into reddish cobblestone and around the next bend, a large mansion came into view. The driveway circled around a second pond, with an equally impressive water feature, that sat in front of the house.

The house was huge, similar to those featured in Megan’s celebrity magazines. The stone exterior was grayish white and large, floor to ceiling windows reflected the California sun. The flowerbeds along the walkway created a colorful pattern that was as visually appealing as the rest of the property.

The car stopped and Grayson climbed out of the car and held his hand out for her. She accepted it and gingerly stepped out, her knee protesting at the weight she put on it. When she stumbled slightly, he quickly wrapped his arms around her and she found herself dangerously close to him. His scent was intoxicating and an inferno of heat exploded in her body. She ignored the pain and pushed herself away from him.

“I’m alright, just a little stiff.” she tried to explain but again avoided meeting his eyes.

“Of course. Let’s get you cleaned up and something for the pain. Will you be okay going up the stairs?” He tenderly placed his hand at the base of her waist and the scent of lilacs filled his nose. He realized it was coming from her hair, most likely her shampoo and he found it alluring.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” she began up the stairs in her haste to move from his touch then realized her knee wouldn’t cooperate. She paused and allowed him to help her up the stairs, then waited for him to unlock the door.

He quickly moved past her and pushed the buttons into the security pad. He opened the door and stepped aside, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture. “Home sweet home.”

She stepped into a marble-floored entryway and felt her heart jump. The foyer was almost as large as her home and was open to the second level above. Two grand staircases swept up on both sides and a large waterfall gracefully flowed down the wall in between them. Large hallways flanked either side of the foyer; beautiful paintings hung the walls, with floor to ceiling windows lined in between.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous.” she whispered.

“I like it.” he replied, and then moved towards the hallway to the left. “Do you want to go to my office or take a tour first?”

Fighting her desire to see the incredible home, she knew she should stay focused. “I’d love to see your home and I thank you for your hospitality but maybe we should just focus on the business.” She heard him sigh and became instantly worried that she had insulted him. Here he was, meeting with her in person and he obviously wanted to show her his home and she snubbed him. God, could she screw this up anymore? She had to try and fix this.

“Um, if you have the time, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take the time…” she tried to amend her rudeness.

“No, you’re right. We’ll get down to business.” He answered slightly short.

He heard the shortness in his tone and cursed himself for it but he couldn’t help himself. Any other woman he brought home had been in awe, barely able to contain themselves, racing from one room to another. Obviously she wasn’t impressed with it at all. She didn’t care for material things and that made her more of a mystery. He led her to his office and escorted her to a chair before he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth and ointment for her wounds.

He came out and handed her the wet washcloth to clean her knee and turned with a grunt to pour them a drink. Oh, what he would give to kneel down in front of those legs and gently clean her injury, slowing kissing away the pain and…cripes! He had to get himself under control!

“Is white wine alright? It will help numb the pain.” he heard himself ask as he tried to put out the flames of his desire.

She chastised herself as she heard the harsh tone in his voice and cursed herself again for being such a klutz. He was obviously irritated with her for being so inflexible and task driven. “Yes, that would be nice. My knee actually isn’t that bad, I’m fine, really.”

He turned and she saw his eyes darken, his frustration so discernible that so she tried to lighten the mood. She smiled coyly and giggled. “I walked around for two weeks with a broken foot before I finally went to the doctor.” She saw his face soften as he handed her the glass of wine and she continued. “Another stupid mistake. I wore tennis shoes down to the barn and my stallion stepped on it, crushing the bones.”

She knew she was babbling and couldn’t stop herself so she took a sip of wine, allowing the heat of the alcohol to slowly fill her body.

He sat down in the chair next to her instead of the chair behind his desk and took a drink. “Didn’t that hurt?”

“Oh, yeah. But horses don’t know and don’t care if you’re hurt. Plus, I didn’t know I had broken anything, I figured my foot was bruised and I could just walk it off. Kip was the one who made me go into the doctor.” she trailed off as she remembered that day. He had berated her until she finally agreed to go in, then when it had turned out that most of the bones had been broken, had called her an idiot for letting it go for so long. He proceeded to go into a speech of how dangerous horses were and she should just get rid of them all and find a safer career. He ended up making her so angry that she refused to speak to him for two weeks.

Grayson heard the bitterness in her voice and knew her relationship with her husband wasn’t a good one. He also realized that they had one important thing in common, their fervor and love for their careers. And that justified the sacrifices that had to be made for them. Obviously her husband didn’t appreciate that kind of desire or need. To be the best doing something you loved. But Luke understood that all too well. From a young age, he felt misplaced and separated from his peers. He didn’t know his biological father and had nothing to do with his mother. She had married six times, given up her children twice, coming back for them after about ten months and both times with a new husband.

His childhood taught him that family was fickle, would abandon you in the blink of an eye. He hadn’t even been ten when he knew he needed to secure his own future and not depend on others. He had always found solace in music and taught himself how to play the guitar. He collected aluminum cans and did odd jobs to save the money for his first guitar and joined his first band in junior high. By high school, he’d failed most of his studies and dropped out to pursue his music career. Through determination and being blessed with a natural talent, he was able to play for several local clubs and his name quickly spread through the business. Soon he didn’t have to contact the clubs, they contacted him, and he was booked for weeks in advance.

It was at one of these clubs that an agent from Halo records saw him perform and offered him a contract. He was only nineteen-years old but knew this was exactly what he wanted to do with his life and his passion drove him to succeed, there was no other option. He signed with Halo and within the first five years, he had nine number one songs, two platinum albums and sold out concerts.

Patrick Johnson, a new manager in the business, had approached Grayson while he was relaxing in a pub in Ireland. Over a couple of pints and sharing some stories, Patrick convinced Grayson that he would be the best manager he could have. Grayson, feeling generous and a little buzzed, verbally agreed to hire Patrick as his manager and hadn’t regretted it. They made a great team, each one balancing out the other’s weaknesses and enhancing their strengths. They were more like brothers than business partners, often arguing, rarely coming to blows, but always worked things out and thus keeping their relationship strong. Patrick was the only one who understood his intensity, his desire and his drive to be the best.

Luke believed Rebecca felt the same way about her horses, he recognized the same determined look in her eyes. Nothing and no one would stop her from achieving her dream.

He knew then that without a doubt, he would allow her to use his music. There was no way that he would be the reason she wouldn’t fulfill her dream. He wanted to be able to help her, no matter how small a part he played. As he looked at her now and thought of their day together, he realized that he would like to be a bigger part in her life, not only to help her on her path to success but to be the one she could lean on.

Maybe the way he could help would be revealed during her business proposal. As the idea sparked, he became anxious to sit down and hear about her business life. “So, tell me about what you do, what this riding style is and about your horse. It is so beautiful.”

There was no irritation left in Grayson’s voice and she heard genuine attentiveness. She knew when people faked interest, just to be polite, Kip’s mother used to pretend curiosity. There was no falseness in Grayson’s voice. She took a sip of her wine, breathed in deep and cleared her throat. This is what she’d spent countless hours practicing and rehearsing.
Showtime,
she thought to herself.

“I started my ranch back in two-thousand and two with three mares and a gelding. After a couple of years working with a world grand championship dressage trainer, I was able…”

“No, I don’t want to hear your speech, though I’m sure it’s very good. I want to hear about you, about your passion and what you want your future to be. What are your dreams? What do you see for yourself?”

She was silent for a moment, her mouth still open slightly, trying to figure out what exactly what he wanted to hear. Her business proposition covered all of those things. She cleared her throat and started again. “Well, after winning standard dressage competitions two years in a row, I was able to breed my mare…”

“No, Rebecca, I don’t want your resume. You’re not getting what I’m asking. Let’s try this a different way. What’s the breed of horse I watched on your DVD?”

“He’s a Friesen stallion, they come from…”

“What’s his name?” he cut her off.

“His name is Othello.” she answered.

“And how many hours a day do you spend with him or the other horses and how many days a week.” He pushed, knowing that his next question was going to be dangerous.

“About ten to twelve hours a day, sometimes more, seven days a week.”

“Good, now, if you and your husband get a divorce, do you lose everything you’ve built? Is he entitled to half?”  

Because the thought had been nagging at the back of her mind since she had seen Kip with that other woman and the question had been unexpected, she blurted her answer out without thinking. “He doesn’t get a dime! We have a prenup, his stuff is his and my ranch and horses are mine! I’ll be damned if he and that bimbo get
anything
that I’ve worked so hard for!”

They were both silent at her outburst, him because her explosion spoke volumes of her relationship with her husband and her because it solidified what she thought of her marriage. It was over. No do-over’s, no going back, no saving what was dead. With the new insight, she burst into tears, feeling like a failure. Believing she had just blown the business proposition, she stumbled out of the chair to make her way towards the door and flee, hoping she could find her way out.

Before she could make her way to the door, she felt warm arms around her, enveloping her in strength and comfort. She tried to fight them off, embarrassed at what she perceived as weakness, trying to be her own hero but when his arms wouldn’t yield, when his scent filled her senses, she found herself weaken and lean against his warm body.

He knew all of her defenses were crushed, exhausted at trying to keep up the pretense that her life was perfect and that nothing bothered her. He felt the fight flow out of her and he tightened his arms around her, wondering if she would let him in or continue trying to hold up the hard exterior she fought so hard to keep in place. He knew about trying to hold up an image, to believe in your dreams and your hopes and ignore the reality. It was those images he held onto until they became a reality but he also knew how hard it was and at times, completely exhausting. He guessed she must be exhausted. He felt her soften and he squeezed his arms gently and rested his chin on the top of her head, smelling the wonderful lilac scent again.

“God, what have you gotten yourself into?”
he thought to himself as he felt her yield in his arms. Here was a woman who knew what she wanted to do with her life, regardless of her personal issues, and fighting to make her dreams come true. Here he was, messing in her private issues so he could get her in the sack. What a jerk he could be.

But was it really just to get her into the sack? He was beginning to wonder. Any other model or actress, he could see their game a mile away and became bored with them within minutes of their first date. Sometimes, to change things up, he would go along with it and play their game. He knew Rebecca wasn’t playing any game, her emotions that were on display right now we’re real. Yet, he still wanted her, emotionally, physically, he didn’t know why but there it was. Now he had to convince her that he was sincere and not just some playboy. As he stood there trying to figure out how to show her that he was being straightforward with her, he enjoyed the feel of her body pressed against his. She felt warm and vibrant; he could hold her like this for hours. He was the first to pull away but couldn’t resist placing a kiss on her forehead.

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