My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (22 page)

He’d never try to tie her down any more than she’d tie him. After her mom had died long ago, leaving her father in the grips of manic depression that made him emotionally off-limits, Kyra preferred not to trust other people with her heart.

But she and Jesse
both
valued their independence. She wouldn’t need to worry that he’d ever get the wrong idea about potential romance between them. Yet Jesse was supremely capable of supplying her with the multiple Os she’d dreamed of, the sensual heights she’d hoped for but had never experienced until last night.

For a moment, Kyra wondered what things might have been like between her and Jesse if she hadn’t been a bit wounded and Jesse hadn’t been so wary. How cool would it be to hang out with her best guy friend forever and luxuriate in the great sex without worrying about getting her heart stomped?

Too bad that would never happen.

Greta hissed a long breath between pursed lips, almost as if she was exhaling the smoke Kyra had denied her. She cast Kyra a look of exaggerated patience. “The only reason Jesse hasn’t committed fully yet is because I haven’t made it apparent that I want exclusive rights. Once we sit down and discuss this, he’ll be thrilled to be mutually monogamous.”

The no-nonsense, I’m-doing-you-a-favor expression assured Kyra that Greta believed every word she was saying.

Two weeks ago, Kyra might have felt sorry for her naiveté. But now she found herself experiencing boatloads of jealousy at the thought Greta might be able to sway Jesse into a relationship Kyra would never be able to manage.

And even if he dodged Greta, what about the next slinky runway goddess who came along? Would Kyra ever be able to look at those women and not feel twinges of envy for the time they got to spend with Jesse?

But she’d be damned if she’d show any weakness to Greta. As far as the rest of the world knew, Kyra Stafford had never been—and would never be—hung up on Jesse Chandler.

“Fine.” Nothing she said at this point would save Greta from believing what she wanted anyway. No sense arguing her morning away when she needed to join Clint in the barn and get down to business about Sam’s Pride. “Thanks for the heads-up on your relationship with Jesse. Believe me, I’ll be the first one to run in the other direction if he starts spouting the merits of monogamy.”

A little voice from the deep recesses of her brain called her a liar. Kyra staunchly ignored it.

Nodding, Greta hitched her bag up higher on one shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to your coffee.” She stared rather pointedly at the empty mug Kyra had been flinging around throughout their conversation. “And your cowboy.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of Clint and sniffed.

Before Kyra could explain that Clint wasn’t “her” cowboy, Greta charged through the front door and stomped down the front walk as if her four-and-a-half-inch spikes were as durable as high-top sneakers.

Kyra couldn’t imagine where the woman was headed as there wasn’t a car or other mode of transportation in sight.

Obviously, Jesse was in over his head with the persistent German beauty. Not that it mattered to Kyra. He was a grown man and he could extricate himself from his own problems.

Her only concern was finding an opportunity to wrest a whole night of pleasure from him—complete with the deed that would save her from her unwanted virginity. She could be with Jesse without falling victim to his heartbreaker ways, damn it. Surely all the years she had known him—all the occasions she’d had to see the man behind the myth—would help her remain immune.

Although, after the twinges of jealousy her visit with Greta had inspired, Kyra had to admit she liked the idea of him moving to offices across town in two weeks to start his house-building business.

That left her plenty of time to enjoy Jesse Chandler on a brand-new level.

Happily ever after and monogamy be damned.

* * *

J
ESSE
CHECKED
his watch as he stood outside the private stables at the Crooked Branch. He’d been able to stay away from Kyra, for what? Three whole hours?

So maybe he hadn’t done a great job of putting space between them. But he’d recalled the house-call appointment for Sam’s Pride and he was more than a little curious about the horse whisperer Kyra had hired.

Besides, this was his last window of opportunity to oversee strangers’ activities at the training facility. For years he’d taken it upon himself to be around when new staff members started their work or when new vendors showed up. Kyra was extremely keen about her business, but Jesse sometimes worried that her isolation on the ranch allowed her to be slightly naive about human nature.

For that matter, she often cut herself off from people on purpose, preferring equine company to the two-legged variety. Maybe it had something to do with growing up responsible for a manic-depressive father who had abdicated his authority along with his capacity to love.

Whatever the reason for Kyra’s loner tendency, she hadn’t developed the same abilities to read people that Jesse possessed. So he’d made it his personal mission in life to make sure no one ever cheated, deceived or swindled her.

God knows she seemed so self-sufficient in every other area of her life and work. Jesse had to contribute where he could.

Convinced he was hovering around the Crooked Branch for completely altruistic reasons and not because he simply wanted to see Kyra today, Jesse charged through the stable doors and into the high-tech horse environment Kyra had designed herself.

Wide masonry alleyways and spacious stalls lined both walls. Year-round wash stalls were housed inside the barn, providing the horses with more showerheads and better water pressure than the bathroom in Jesse’s apartment.

The stables bustled with noise and activity as Crooked Branch staffers led the horses to the turnout pastures for some morning exercise. But the door to Sam’s Pride’s stall—the one at the very end of the long corridor—remained shut.

Picking up his pace, Jesse’s boots clanked down the clean barn floor toward the closed door. He’d bet his motorcycle that there wasn’t a million-dollar thoroughbred housed in a more state-of-the-art facility than the one Kyra Stafford managed. The only scent that hinted the place was a barn emanated from the pile of sweet-smelling hay tucked inside an open supply room.

Slowing his steps as he neared the closed stall door where Sam’s Pride normally resided, Jesse’s ear tuned to the soft throaty laughter inside the enclosure.

Soft, sexy-as-hell laughter.

Followed by a man’s low whisper.

An icy-cold, clammy sort of fear trickled through his veins as he realized the feminine voice belonged to Kyra. Only it wasn’t quite fear that he felt.

More like mild dread. A little anger.

Jesus-freaking-Christ, he was
jealous.

The realization rolled over him with surprising clarity considering Jesse had never been jealous of anyone for anything before.

But he was pretty damn positive that this unhappy feeling in his gut could only be attributed to the fact that another man was making Kyra laugh right now. God forbid the guy made her blush, too, or Jesse would have to kill him.

He hadn’t realized until just this second how badly he wanted to be the man to make her cheeks turn pink someday.

Gritting his teeth, Jesse burst through the stall door, determined to make sure everyone inside Sam’s Pride’s private retreat knew exactly how pissed he was. And the sight that greeted his eyes did zero to soothe him.

Kyra stood beside her favorite horse, stroking his nose and cooing to the beast while a way-too-touchy stranger stood beside her, his hands placed friendlylike over her hips.

In just the same spot Jesse had touched her last night.

Leveling a finger at them both, he didn’t think about what to say. He merely blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“Care to tell me what in the hell happened to monogamy?”

7

K
YRA
WAS
THE
FIRST
to move, the first to break her physical connection with the Don Juan in a Stetson.

Too bad she didn’t look nearly as contrite as she should. In fact, her expression struck him as downright furious as she turned a snapping blue gaze on him.

“Care to tell me what happened to basic good manners?” she shot back.

Sam’s Pride sidestepped in his stall, impatiently stomping his hooves in reaction to Kyra’s displeasure. The Romeo cowboy merely crossed his arms and shuffled back to watch Kyra.

Damn the man.

Jesse had never noticed other guys ogling her before yesterday. Now, he felt male eyes on her generous breasts everywhere he went. “Good manners are low priority in the midst of my best friend being debauched.”

The cowboy in the corner lifted an eyebrow. “Your best friend?”

“Damn straight.” Jesse was only too happy for an excuse to glare at the letch. His day would be complete if only this joker would take a swing at him.

But Kyra’s gropey companion simply nodded and did a piss-poor job of hiding an amused smile.

Kyra shouldered her way in between them. “There was no debauchery involved here, Jesse, and I seriously resent the implication. You just interrupted an important moment between me and Sam’s Pride and I won’t be forgiving you anytime soon if you’ve set back his treatment because of this morning’s melodrama.”

She patted her horse on the nose before plowing out of the roomy stall.

Jesse spun on his heel to follow her and her swinging ponytail down the wide alleyway between stalls. She was back to her old self today—no leather corset in sight.

Clad in blue jeans and a man’s T-shirt, Kyra wore the same clothes she always had around the ranch, but she didn’t look remotely the same to Jesse. Now, instead of seeing her loose shirt that hid her phenomenal breasts, Jesse could only notice how low the V-neck dipped and how tiny her waist was where the shirttail disappeared into her jeans.

“No way are you making me out to be the bad guy, Kyra, when it was clearly
you
who was submitting to another man’s touch three hours after I rolled out of your bed.”

Her ponytail stilled along with her steps. Slowly, she turned to face him just inside the stable’s main doors. “Submitting to another man’s touch?” Her nose wrinkled. “How can you call that—” Her jaw fell open, unwrinkling her nose. “Oh my God, Jesse. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of the horse whisperer.”

Jesse had never experienced a migraine before, but he suspected the blinding pain in the back of his head had to be sort of similar. “Of course I’m not...”

He couldn’t even say the damn word. How could he possibly
be
jealous when he couldn’t even edge the term out of his mouth?

“You’re jealous!” Kyra squeezed her hands together in delight, drawing his attention to the incredibly soft fingers that had traveled all over his body last night.

“Jesus, Kyra, that has nothing to do with it.”

“Since when have you developed a possessive streak for your one-night stands?”

That did it.

Jesse shoved open the stable doors and dragged her out into the morning sunlight, hoping they’d be able to avoid being overheard. “Last night was
not
a one-night stand.”

“Does that mean I’ll get a repeat performance tonight?” She blinked up at him with such a wicked gleam in her blue eyes Jesse wondered how he’d ever viewed her as an innocent.

“No.” He took deep breaths to steel his body against the eager response to her suggestion of spending another night together. “That means you can’t call it a one-night stand when we didn’t...”

How to put this delicately?

“Go all the way?” she supplied helpfully, snagging the attention of one of the college kids Kyra hired to help exercise the horses. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Sighing, he caught her by the elbow to tug her around the back of the stables. The last thing he needed was some college kid eyeing Kyra, too. He hadn’t ever cared if the whole world stared at Greta in her lingerie on a Milan runway, but somehow his eyeballs felt ready to explode at the mere thought of a male eye straying too long on Kyra.

He definitely needed to get over whatever the hell was the matter with him.

“This might not be a good time with so many people around.” Maybe if he just appealed to her ever-practical nature, he could extricate himself from this mess.

“It may not be a good time, but you made it the
right
time when you charged in on Sam’s Pride’s first session with the equine psychologist. You know how important it is to me to sell that horse, Jesse. I won’t even be able to
give
him away if he keeps up the bad temper with everyone who looks at him.” She propped one foot on the three-rail fence outlining the turnout pasture behind the stable and stared out at the horses who weren’t being exercised at the moment.

In trainer language, the horses were enjoying “leisure time.”

“And you’re sure in an all-fired hurry to sell him, aren’t you?” Jesse prodded, surprised to realize how much her haste annoyed him.

She flicked a curious glance in his direction before turning her attention back to the assortment of jumpers and racking horses grazing in the field before them. “He’s my ticket to buying the controlling percentage of this place. If I can’t unload him, I don’t have any sale prospects that will be profitable enough to allow me to do that until next year.”

“And I’m such a tyrant that you can’t stand having me in charge here for that much longer?” They both knew Jesse was the silent partner. He’d been wandering the U.S., either as a minor league baseball player or as a student of life for most of the years they’d known one another. So it wasn’t like he hung around southern Florida very often telling her how to run their business. He’d earned enough of his own money over the past ten years to never worry about how much profit the ranch turned.

“You know that’s not it.” She pivoted around to face him. Tucking one boot heel onto the lowest wooden bar, she propped her elbows back on the top rail.

The stance couldn’t help but draw his eyes to her incredible curves. The lush body he’d been able to touch and taste just last night....

Even though he was definitely concentrating on their conversation.

“...but I really need to claim some independence,” she was saying while Jesse prayed he didn’t miss much.

He focused solely on her eyes.

“You’re the most independent woman I’ve ever met and you’re all of twenty-four,” he countered. “How much more self-sufficient can a person be?”

“I’m unwilling to rely on other people to supply my happiness or my security.”

The alive-and-well bad boy within him couldn’t resist teasing her. He leaned back against the fence beside her. “Aw, come on, Kyra. You have to admit I managed to supply a little happiness for you last night.”

Why did he remind her of it when he’d been so hell-bent on forgetting all about it? Obviously, seeing her so close and personal with the horse shrink this morning was still screwing with his head.

“I’m not saying other people can’t provide me with pleasure.”

Was it his imagination or was there a tiny hint of pink in those cheeks of hers?

She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I just don’t want to ever
rely
on someone else for...my most basic...needs.”

A momentary vision of Kyra erotically taunting him with her ability to provide her own pleasure acted like a carrot dangled in front of his sex-starved body. Every inch of his flesh tightened. Hardened. Hurt for her.

Leaning into the fence, he turned away from her to look out over the horses and get himself under control.

“But it’s only me helping you out here.” His voice sounded strangled. “Surely you can trust me as the controlling partner for another year to give Sam’s Pride time to work through his behavior issues on his own.”

She stared out at some distant point on the horizon and said nothing.

“You can’t trust me for another year?”

“It’s not so much a matter of not trusting you, Jesse. It’s more a case of me wanting to prove something to myself. I spent my whole childhood at the whim of my father’s moods and I feel like I can’t spend another day catering to someone else or living by anyone else’s rules. I want to work for me.”

“Since when do I expect to be catered to?” Where the hell was this conversation going? And how had he moved from erotic visions of Kyra to semiscary realizations about her isolated upbringing?

“You don’t.” She shook her head so emphatically her ponytail undulated with the backlash. “But again, this is about me. I’ve got a goal in my mind to be independent and self-sufficient by the time I’m twenty-five, and no bout of horse stubbornness is going to keep me from realizing that goal. I’ve got a buyer lined up for Sam’s Pride, and with Clint’s help, he’ll be ready by the time the sale goes through.”

The look of clear determination in her eyes reminded him of his brother’s gritty resolve to support their family when Jesse’s father had walked out. He’d never realized how much Kyra resembled Seth in her staunch drive to be independent, her steely will never to rely on anyone else.

Jesse, on the other hand, had never felt called to prove himself the way Kyra and his older brother did. It was enough for him to charm his way through life and without shouldering ten other people’s burdens along the way.

He never ran the risk of disappointing anyone because he never offered more than what he was certain he could give.

Did it matter that what he could give was usually simple, sexual and fleeting? At least he was honest about it. No woman could ever say he’d deceived her into thinking otherwise.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Sam’s Pride is your business. I just can’t help but empathize with any creature who gets a shrink tossed in his direction.”

* * *

A
BITING
ANGER
lurked behind Jesse’s words. So much so that Kyra couldn’t help but wonder who had tried to crawl inside Jesse Chandler’s head to leave him with such a wealth of resentment.

But then—almost as if she’d imagined the moment—shades of Jesse’s teasing smile returned. A hint of flirtation colored his words. “Or maybe I just don’t like the idea of a horse shrink who thinks he can put his hands on you.”

Kyra had the distinct impression the man used his sexual charm as a replacement for deeper emotions. But she barely had time to mull over that bit of new insight before he stepped closer and made her forget all about
how
he wielded that major magnetism.

She was too busy getting caught right up in it.

“When I saw his fingers on your hips, all I could think was that I’d just touched you there.” His gaze dipped down to her jeans, lingered. “And that you’d felt so damn good.”

Heat coursed through her with the force of a thoroughbred in the homestretch. Yesterday she’d had to chase him down and practically hog-tie him to get him to notice her.

It was pretty heady to have Jesse Chandler pursue
her.
If not with his actions, at least with his words. Especially after he’d slipped out of her bed last night without ever reaching the pleasure pinnacle she’d found so quickly.

“Sam’s Pride was sort of edgy having somebody new in there with him this morning. He gave me a nudge that was a little more forceful than usual and Clint was just helping me stay on my feet.”

“Clint?” He made it sound like an infectious disease.

“The equine psychologist. His name is Clint Bowman.”

“Ah.” Jesse’s shoulders relaxed just a little.

He looked like he belonged at the Crooked Branch today. He’d traded his shorts for jeans and a gray T-shirt with the Racking Horse Breeder’s Association logo on the front. Kyra didn’t need to see the back to know it read, “You’re not riding unless you’re racking.” She had one just like it in her drawer.

Jesse stepped back from her, a clear visual cue he was retreating from any flirtation.

But Kyra wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. After last night’s encounter, she was all the more hungry for him, damn it, and no closer to getting over her ancient crush.

They needed to finish what they’d started and she planned to make some headway in the department. Pronto.

“So Clint obviously made no claims on my body.” She pushed away from the fence and sidled closer. “Frankly, I’m still waiting for you to take up where we left off last night.”

He was shaking his head before she even completed the thought. “I don’t know—”

“Unless you’re too scared?”

She could practically see the hackles rise on the back of his neck. Good. She needed to do
something
to convince him to give her another shot.

“It’s hardly a matter of fear.”

“Then come see me next weekend.” She backed him into the fence rail, giving him no room to run. If he wanted out of this, he’d have to tell her as much.

“I’ve got to be in Tampa next weekend on business and then—”

She cut off whatever other excuses he might throw her way. “So stop by the week after that. The buyer for Sam’s Pride is going to be here that Thursday. You can come bid your farewells to my horse and then have dinner with me.”

“I want to, Kyra.” A flash of heat in his brown eyes made her believe him. “But this thing between us...it’s complicated.”

“I think we could figure it out if we had a little time together.” She hadn’t meant that to come out quite as suggestive as it sounded. Chasing Jesse had turned her into a hoyden in the course of twenty-four hours.

To her surprise, he nodded. “We definitely need to think through what this means for us down the road, anyway. I’ll swing by that day and we’ll...”

“Think?”

“Exactly. Besides, if you’re hell-bent on selling Sam’s Pride for the sake of shifting the scales of ownership this spring, I want to at least be around for his big send-off.” He edged around her, and she backed up enough to let him pass.

She could afford to be gracious now that she’d won this small victory. As she watched Jesse retreat across the driveway toward the barn where he normally parked his motorcycle, Kyra was satisfied just knowing she’d see him again. In fact, it surprised her how much she looked forward to seeing him again. She would miss his recurring presence at the ranch. No matter how sporadic his appearances had been in the past when he’d been on the road, she’d always known he’d show up on her doorstep sooner or later to help her, tease her, force her not to work so hard all the time....