Her Tycoon to Tame (15 page)

He capped the bottles. “Sam lived for two things—his horse farm and Triple Crown Distillery. My mother took the first. I took the second. The least I can do is assume responsibility for his care.”

“Doesn't Sam have any other family who could help?”

“No. He and his first wife never had children.”

“You have alternatives to letting him live with you.”

Anger flared in his eyes. “He deserves better than to be shoved in a facility and ignored.”

“I wasn't suggesting you do that.”

“Others have.”

“Tell me, Wyatt, what would have happened to Triple Crown if you hadn't taken control of the company?”

“That's irrelevant. I didn't allow that to happen.”

But it was relevant. It proved Wyatt was capable of seeing beyond the bottom line to the people involved. “If you were the heartless bastard I initially believed you to be, you would have institutionalized Sam and walked away without a second thought.”

“Is that what you'd do?”

“No. I'd take care of him as long as I could. And I'd keep
his dream alive the same way I'm keeping my mother's alive by continuing to rescue horses.”

Their gazes held in a connection that wasn't in the least bit sexual but was satisfying nonetheless. It went deeper and filled Hannah with the hope that they could work through their awkward situation. Then he blinked, and the distrustful expression she'd come to associate with him returned.

“My mother left Sam the moment he was diagnosed. She said she wasn't wasting her life playing nursemaid to a man who was regressing to childhood. My last girlfriend ended our three-year relationship when I told her I'd be assuming responsibility for Sam. She didn't want to be saddled with his care, either.”

Hannah wanted to hug him more than anything at that moment. And she knew the gesture wouldn't be welcome. “Not every woman bails when the going gets tough.”

“It's not just women, Hannah, it's human nature to look out for number one.
Love
only lasts as long as it's convenient. When it no longer serves a purpose or becomes a burden, love and the people involved in it are discarded like three-day-old fish. That's why there will never be another woman in my life other than the temporary kind. If you can handle that, fine. But don't try to plant a white picket fence around me.”

She flinched. And then it was as if a light bulb went off in her brain. Wyatt had a lot in common with her rescue horses. He snarled and bit because he'd been hurt before. If he pushed her away with his verbal attacks, it was only because he was afraid to trust, afraid to love. Afraid to be let down. Again.

But if anyone needed his trust restored in people, it was Wyatt. With a little TLC, he could become a decent human being.

But was she woman enough for the task? Or was this rescue beyond even her capabilities?

There was only one way to find out. She'd have to save Wyatt from himself, and doing so would be her biggest—her riskiest—rescue challenge to date.

S
ummonses to the house were nothing new, but today the butterflies in Hannah's stomach multiplied with each step. Given the explosive chemistry between her and Wyatt, the course she'd chosen was a risky one strewn with emotional pitfalls.

Rather than face Nellie, who could read her like a book, Hannah crossed the patio to Wyatt's office. She spotted him through the French doors sitting behind his desk, his attention focused on his laptop computer. Then he looked up and the impact of his gaze hit her, scattering the butterflies.

He looked every inch the successful millionaire in his white silk dress shirt with the neck unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms and his platinum Breitling watch. She struggled to fill her lungs without looking like a gaping guppy.

He closed the computer, rose and crossed the room to open the door. “It's about time you got here.”

Textbook case of growling to warn her to keep her distance.
But she didn't scare so easily. “I was working with the studs. That's not something I can interrupt without throwing off everyone's schedule.”

“Come in.” He stalked away, leaving Hannah to follow.

She studied his broad back and the black trousers outlining his firm buttocks—buttocks she'd dug her nails into when she'd pulled him deeper into her body. Her heart banged faster and her mouth watered.

Wyatt stabbed a finger at the visitor chair, then sat behind his wide desk and rocked back in his seat. His gaze rolled over her in that knee-weakening way of his.

She sat. “Why the urgency?”

“Your visitor from Dubai called Nellie and informed her he'd be arriving in two days. When I told her I'd be out of town and asked that the sales staff handle him, she insisted I talk to you.”

“Didn't she explain that Mr. Shakkar is too important to pawn off on the sales staff?”

“When I bought the farm I was assured the staff could handle day-to-day operations. Why not this?”

“Mr. Shakkar is a long-term customer who has spent millions on Sutherland horses in the past, and he's likely to buy more on this trip. He's very influential both stateside and on the European circuit, and he's sent a lot of business our way. My father always—”

“I'm not your father.”

“I know that.” Boy, did she ever. “But as I was saying, my father always gave repeat customers the VIP treatment. It encourages them to be loyal to us.

“Don't worry about it. I'll take care of Rashed. He's been interested in opening up a therapeutic riding clinic for a while. I'll walk him through FYC's practices, then cook dinner for him at my place afterward.”

Wyatt's expression turned thundercloud dark. “I've experienced one of your business dinners. I wouldn't want
him to get the wrong impression. Unless, of course, that is your plan.”

She stiffened at the accusation, then forced her fingers to relax.
He's only snarling as a defense mechanism because he's afraid to trust.
She couldn't blame him. The attraction between them was scarily powerful.

“Just because you misunderstood my intentions doesn't mean he will.”

He shot to his feet and paced to the window, hands on hips, spine stiff. “You take care of the client during the day. I'll get back in time for dinner
here.
You'll act as my hostess for the evening as Nellie tells me you did for your father. But business is as far as it goes, Hannah.”

The harder he fought, the sweeter the success of winning him over would be. She bit the inside of her lip to stop an anticipatory smile. For now, she had to work on getting him to lower the drawbridge he kept closed tightly around the fortress of his heart. Only then could he heal.

“You don't need to warn me off again, Wyatt. You've done an excellent job of that already. I'm well aware you regret our…encounter. I'll talk to Nellie about the menu on my way out.”

“I'll handle it. Sutherland Farm is now a Triple Crown property. From now on we do things my way.”

 

Where in the hell was Hannah?

Wyatt checked his watch as the limo he'd hired to pick up their guest approached the house. As his hostess, she should have been beside him to greet Shakkar. But she'd failed to make an appearance, and she wasn't responding to his text messages or calls. He'd managed to make it back from Chicago on time, but she hadn't made it a half mile up the driveway punctually.

Did she believe sex with him gave her permission to be irresponsible? If so, she'd learn differently.

Triple Crown ran a first-class operation and international
visitors were common. He knew his way around entertaining, but he'd been counting on Hannah's familiarity with the guest and horse lingo to facilitate the evening. He'd obviously misplaced his trust, which only reinforced his belief that women used sex to bend the rules to suit them.

Masking his irritation, he descended the stairs to meet the limo at the end of the sidewalk. The rear door opened before he could reach it. Instead of a suit-clad middle-aged man emerging, a drop-dead sexy black do-me stiletto attached to a shapely feminine limb emerged from the dim interior. Even while he appreciated the sight, Wyatt mentally adjusted to the change in head count. Shakkar hadn't mentioned bringing a guest, but Nellie could make it work. Nellie could make anything work—as he'd discovered through her calm handling of several of Sam's crises.

Wyatt forced his gaze upward over the shiny black fabric outlining curvy hips, a narrow waist and sweet breasts, then he encountered Hannah's sexy, smoky eyes. Surprise stopped him in his tracks.

She looked beautiful with her ruby red lips and short, form-fitting strapless dress. Lust hit him like a bullet train. Her gaze ran over him in a slow visual caress and her pupils expanded. Reciprocal embers of desire ignited in his groin, despite his decision to avoid any future entanglements with her.

She turned her attention to someone in the car behind her, snapping the connection. Wyatt attributed the oddly deflated sensation sweeping him to relief that she hadn't stood him up but had been seeing to their guest.

While she was distracted, he took in the rest of her. She'd pinned up her dark hair, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. Kissably bare. Silver earrings dangled from her lobes, dancing against her neck with each movement. His mouth watered for a taste of her pale nape. He crushed the thought, but acknowledged the surplus of creamy skin on display would
be a distraction tonight and a test of his control. Digging deep for composure, he took a slow, measured breath and released it.

A man with olive skin and black hair graying at the temples exited the car. The older guy eyed Hannah with a lap-her-up appreciation that set Wyatt's teeth on edge.

Hannah said something in a language Wyatt couldn't identify, but the familiarity and warmth in her tone scalded him like acid. Their guest caught her hand and carried it to his smiling lips. “Hannah, you are a true blessing. A feast for the eyes as well as the soul.”

Wyatt's molars gnashed at the effusive flattery. “Good evening.”

Hannah's bright smile transformed into a tense stretching of her lips as the duo faced him on the sidewalk. “Rashed, I'd like you to meet Wyatt Jacobs, Sutherland Farm's new owner. Wyatt, Rashed Shakkar.”

Tamping down his instant hostility, Wyatt shook hands. “Welcome. I trust Hannah gave you a satisfactory tour this afternoon?”

One that didn't include a visit to her cottage, her bed or the boathouse
. The words burned like a lit fuse through Wyatt's brain.

“Hannah is a wonderful hostess. Her knowledge of horses is outshone only by her beauty.”

A ruby the exact shade of Hannah's lips twinkled on a thin chain between her breasts drawing Wyatt's gaze like a magnet. With substantial effort, he forced his attention back to his guest. “Come in. Nellie tells me she's prepared your favorites.”

“Ah. Nellie. Another Sutherland treasure. Her cooking is always one of the highlights of my visit. She is as much a magician in the kitchen as Hannah is with her horses.”

Wyatt tamped his irritation and led his guest inside. It was going to be a long night if he had to listen to this bombast all evening.

Ninety-two agonizing minutes later, Wyatt decided he had
to end this evening. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth. He ordered his taut muscles to relax as Nellie cleared the dessert plates.

Hannah had charmed their guest throughout the meal, playing Shakkar like a Stradivarius, drawing him into conversation and making him laugh at her stories. Wyatt's custom-tailored dinner jacket chaffed like a straitjacket, his tie squeezed like a noose, and the desire to get rid of Shakkar was quickly becoming a compulsion.

Shakkar laid his napkin beside his plate. “Wyatt, do you realize how fortunate you are that Hannah stayed on after her father's retirement? I assure you, I am not the only one who would like to lure her away.”

And not only for her horse-breeding skills, Wyatt concluded. The man wanted Hannah in his bed.

“I'm well aware of Hannah's value as an employee.”

And as a lover.

Wyatt set his brandy snifter aside. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in dismissing a relationship with Hannah. They had a sexual connection like no other he'd experienced. She was intelligent, worked hard and had an undeniable loyalty to the farm. She'd be a dedicated custodian of the property and would allow him to focus on Triple Crown as long as he controlled her expenditures on her rescued animals. And she treated Sam well. In fact, she might be more knowledgeable about Sam's condition than Wyatt was.

The most important selling factor of a relationship with her was that when he decided to sell, she'd insist on staying behind. There would be no emotional goodbyes or ugly scenes. She'd be nothing more than a chapter in his life—a short, passionate one—with a preset ending.

Establishing Hannah as his mistress could prove quite advantageous for each of them. He could pacify her love for material things with the gifts he could bestow upon her, and with her beauty and poise she'd be an asset to his business and an excellent hostess, not to mention sharing his bed when he
came home to visit Sam. He could even use her Grand Prix connections to ink a sponsorship deal and tap into a new market.

Decision made, Wyatt pushed away from the table and stepped behind Hannah's chair to pull it back. As soon as he dispatched their guest he'd make his proposition. With all she stood to gain, how could she refuse?

Shakkar covered Hannah's hand on the table before she could rise. “Hannah, thank you for devoting your day to me, and thank you, Wyatt, for allowing her to entertain me. I regret I cannot stay longer. Hannah, my dear, before I return to my hotel I have a small gift for your horse rescue operation.”

Shakkar reached into his jacket pocket and laid a check on the table. Hannah quickly covered the paper, but not before Wyatt saw the amount. Twenty-five thousand dollars.

Warning sirens screeched in his head. Had Hannah been charming the old goat to get money out of him? Would Shakkar expect favors in return for his gift?
Sexual
favors.

Wyatt's mother had made a career out of charming her “gentlemen friends” into supporting her after she'd dumped Sam. Was Hannah formed from the same mold as his mother? He'd begun to believe otherwise, but now… Hannah's flushed cheeks and sweet smile knotted the muscles along Wyatt's spine.

“Rashed, you're very generous. Thank you. And as I promised this morning, I'll keep an eye out for suitable horses for your rehabilitation program.”

“You could sell him some of yours,” Wyatt said to interrupt their little mutual admiration party.

Hannah stiffened, then she slowly rose and turned toward him. “I don't have qualified horses to spare at the moment.”

Shakkar stood. “Just as well. Now I have a reason to keep in touch. You have my direct line should you need to contact me for any reason.”

Hannah beamed and nodded. “I'll be in touch.”

“Now, regretfully, I must take my leave. I would like to
stay longer, but I have monopolized your time and prevented you from breeding your future champions. I look forward to the delivery of mine. You will notify me close enough to the date for me to make arrangements for an extended stay?”

“I'll let you know. For now, pencil in late January.”

By then, Wyatt intended to have her firmly entrenched as his mistress. And he would not share.

Rashed linked his arm through Hannah's, ignoring and irritating Wyatt. The duo walked through the foyer and onto the columned front porch. Humid night air clogged Wyatt's lungs and clung to his skin, making his collar feel tight and abrasive. Hannah started to descend the stairs. Wyatt grabbed her free hand and anchored her by his side where his hostess—
his woman
—should be.

Shakkar paused. His eyes dropped to Wyatt and Hannah's linked hands, then rose to Wyatt's face. His wizened expression said the old guy knew how much his attention to Hannah had annoyed his host.

“Mr. Shakkar, I hope you have an uneventful flight home,” Wyatt spoke with what he hoped sounded like genuine courtesy.

Shakkar dipped his head ever so slightly to acknowledge Wyatt's claim, then released Hannah's hand. “Thank you. I wish you many years of enjoyment from Sutherland Farm, Mr. Jacobs.”

Shakkar descended the stairs, then stopped by the limo door the chauffeur had opened. “Hannah, take care until next time, and please give my regards to your father. And remember what I said. If you decide you would like a change of climate, there will always be a position for someone with your considerable talents at my stable. And for Nellie, of course.”

The bastard was trying to steal Hannah
and
Nellie right in front of his face. Wyatt's supply of civility vaporized. “Good night.”