The Riding Master (13 page)

Rayne walked over to a row of shelves, cluttered with a selection of family photos and reference books on horses.

“I think I understand what this is about.” Rebecca’s throaty chuckle saturated the air. “She’s jealous of you and Trent.”

Rayne stepped over to Rebecca. “You know about us?”

“Your tack room is only three doors down from my office. So yeah, I know. I heard you two this morning.”

Rayne blushed and covered her face with her hands. “Dammit!” She raised her head. “Do you think anybody else heard us?”

“Perhaps not anyone east of the Mississippi,” Rebecca ribbed with a cocky grin.

“Rebecca!”

“Well, sweetie, you spooked quite a few of the horses with all of that commotion. But I think that was what your man intended. Me and two other people watched him deliberately walk into your tack room and shut the door. If you ask me, he wanted us to see him. I think it was his way of telling everyone what you were up to.”

An idea occurred to Rayne. “Do you think Selene heard us?”

“She was one of the two people I mentioned.”

“Son of a bitch.” Rayne punched the air. “So that’s why she told me that bullshit about Trent having an affair with Lisa Shelby.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. Lisa Shelby likes them good-looking and loaded. She’s a real gold digger.”

Rayne’s heart sputtered at the prospect, and then she remembered Trent’s comments about dating such women. “So it’s true.”

“So what if it is?” Rebecca shrugged. “Lisa never let on to me that anything happened. In fact, she gave him a glowing recommendation.”

Rayne twisted her hands together as doubts about Trent’s intentions gnawed at her. “But if it is true…what do I do?”

“Nothing. Just be thankful you found a man who knows how to give a woman a great orgasm.”

“Christ, Rebecca.” Rayne rubbed her hand against her brow as her cheeks turned red.

“What? We can say orgasm these days, can’t we? Or is it no longer PC? What do the college kids call them now…refreshers?”

“What?” Rayne half-laughed more out of embarrassment than surprise.  “Where in the hell did you hear that?”

“I picked it up from my youngest daughter. She’s into all the new slang.”

Rayne went to the desk and slid into a wooden chair to the side. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this dating crap.”

Rebecca waved off her comment with her pudgy hand. “It’s only just beginning for you two. When you’ve been with him a while and settled into the couple mode, all of this newbie stuff will fade. You’ll see.” She picked up her glasses from her desk.

“And what if we don’t make it that far?”

Easing back in her chair, Rebecca fiddled with the glasses in her hand. “Kid, you’ve gotta have faith. I know you have been kicked in the heart like most of us, but that’s the trick with love. You can’t push it away when it’s offered; otherwise you’ll never truly know how wonderful it can be. Love is a lot like believing in something, God, Allah, whatever. You have to believe before you can find faith, just in the same way you have to believe before you can find love. Don’t become like Selene. She’s a woman who is dead on the inside because she has given up on love. You know your heart; she lost touch with hers a long time ago.”

“Since the divorce, I’ve felt a lot like one of those heartless women. But with Trent….” Rayne let out a long sigh. “It’s like I’m sixteen again, thrilled that the quarterback from the football team has noticed me. But love?” Rayne grimaced. “I don’t know if we will ever get there.”

“We’ll see.” Rebecca slipped on her glasses. “Just make sure next time you two do it in a car in the parking lot away from the horses. I don’t want to have to lie to another ten-year-old.”

Rayne stood from her chair. “What are you talking about?”

“The other person who heard you scream was Kit Watson’s daughter. You know Kit, she owns that big red thoroughbred. Well, her daughter was standing right outside your tack room door looking very confused. She asked me what the two of you were doing in there, so I had to come up with something on the fly.”

Rayne thought of the shocked little girl and felt mortified. “What did you tell her?”

“That he was helping you pull off your boots.”

Rayne stared at Rebecca, her hazel eyes round with astonishment.

“I don’t lie well under pressure.” Rebecca reviewed one of the bills on her desk. “So just take it somewhere else when you two get the urge. I’m not running a brothel.”

“Not for people, anyway,” Rayne joked under her breath.

“Yeah well, horses don’t scream when they have their refreshers.”

Rayne narrowed her eyes on the round, middle-aged woman with the bleached blonde hair. “You’re really scary sometimes, Rebecca, you know that?”

“My second husband used to say the same thing, but that was usually after we made love.”

Shaking her head, Rayne went to the office door. “I did not need to hear that.”

“And don’t worry about Selene,” Rebecca offered. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”

Rayne paused at the door, considering her past with Selene. “You don’t think she will try something?”

“Nah.” Rebecca looked up from her bill. “Just worry about keeping that man of yours happy…very happy, if you know what I mean.”

Worry twisted in Rayne’s gut. “Rebecca, do you think I can keep him happy? I didn’t keep Foster happy.”

“He’s not Foster, Rayne.” Rebecca lowered her glasses over her nose. “Foster could never be happy with a woman, because he was never happy with himself. Trent is very different. He’s a better man.”

Exiting the office, Rebecca’s comparison between the two men stuck with Rayne. Was Trent the “better man,” or would she be repeating her past mistakes and setting herself up for even more heartache? She knew Trent was no Foster, but the more Rayne learned of his past, the more she began to doubt their future.

“I just wish I knew if I could trust him,” she muttered, walking back to her tack room. “For once I would like to meet a man who keeps his promises.”

Chapter 10

After donning a casual blue cotton summer dress and pulling her frizzy blonde hair back with a fashionable clip, Rayne got into her gray Highlander and made the short drive to Trent’s house in Lewisville. The upper end subdivision had spacious two and three acre lots with massive, modern-looking mansions. As Rayne maneuvered her car along the winding streets with Victorian lampposts, picturesque babbling brooks, and colorful white, pink, and red crape myrtle trees, she was reminded of something out of a children’s storybook. All that was missing were fairy huts, pixie dust scintillating in the twilight, and gatherings of wispy-winged creatures.

When she found 1722 Hoffsmill Road, as written on the directions he had given her earlier, Rayne parked in front of the sprawling contemporary home and let out a low whistle.

Built on a natural rise, the irregularly shaped, one-story structure had a square entrance with natural wood beams above and on each side of carved double wooden doors. Oversized windows were positioned along the façade in an irregular pattern. Built of thick timber and natural stone, the house blended with the long gardens of small green trees and landscaped shrubbery in front. Rising from the street, a brown-bricked staircase was carved into the bedrock, with glowing lights above each step.

Standing on the recessed porch, Rayne pushed the silver doorbell to the side. Chimes could be heard echoing throughout the home, and as she heard hurried footsteps approach, Rayne held her white clutch bag to her chest and tried to remember to breathe.

“You made it.” Trent opened the front doors. “Did you have any trouble finding it?”

“No, your directions were fine.”

Dressed in blue jeans, a pale yellow button-down shirt, and loafers, his dark hair was still damp and he smelled wonderfully citrusy. After he kissed her cheek, Trent guided her through the doorway.

“Dinner is in the oven, so come in and I’ll give you a tour.”

In a short entrance hall with an elevated ceiling done in alternating shades of chocolate brown and beige, Trent took her purse and put it on a dark Shaker table by the door. Placing his hand behind her back, he escorted her through the hall and into the living room.

“Wow,” Rayne mouthed as surveyed the grand room.

Open in design with the living area, kitchen, and dining section all merging together, the room was made up of walls done in white with a main wall housing a massive stone hearth. Above the hearth was a painting of a herd of horses running across a green field. Scattered about the other walls were smaller paintings, also of horses in various settings. The floors were bamboo, and the furniture simple, modern, and a combination of wood and leather. Wide patio doors along the far wall opened on to a deck with an outdoor fire pit, grill, and black iron furniture. Behind the deck, a five-tiered, step fountain drained into a rectangular pond that was also made of natural stone.

“This is magnificent, Trent.”

“Thanks, I designed it myself. I wanted to be an architect, but changed my major in college when I discovered I could make more in the oil and gas business.”

“You designed this place?” She turned to him. “I have to say I’m more than a little impressed.”

He walked to the open kitchen and settled behind a breakfast bar of stone and cedar. Shiny stainless appliances glistened in the recessed lighting above as he went to a built-in refrigerator and collected a bottle of wine.

“This is the Frascati I told you about. It’s a nice Italian wine that will go great with the chicken Parmesan I’m preparing for dinner.” He then acquired two wineglasses from a rack beneath the natural wood cabinets behind him.

“Where did you learn so much about wine?” Rayne remarked as he placed the glasses in front of her.

“My college sweetheart, Claudia West.” He retrieved a wine opener from a nearby drawer. “Her father owned a vineyard in Hill Country outside of Austin. Clark West taught me all about wine; how to choose the best, and how to pair wine with foods. He was a wizard with wine.” He jabbed the opener in the cork and began twisting it into the bottle. 

Rayne took a seat on a wood and leather stool in front of the bar. “Your college sweetheart?”

He popped the cork from the bottle. “We dated from freshman year to our senior year at UT Austin. Then, I met Louise Lyndale. She was an older woman—two years older—beautiful, very smart, and a graduate student in the engineering program. We met in the library and started studying together; one thing led to another, and….” He poured the wine into the glasses. “Anyway, I soon learned Claudia had been seeing someone else, too.”

“What happened to Louise?” 

“Louise turned into Mary Lynn; Mary Lynn became Lydia; Lydia became Beth. Beth introduced me to….” He handed her a glass of wine. “I should stop before you make a run for the door.”

“You’ve been with a lot of women. I get it.” She knocked back a quick shot of wine.

“Not something I set out to do, Rayne.” He examined the wine in his glass. “I’d always hoped I would be married and settled by now. It just never worked out that way.”

She took another long sip from her glass, imbibing the courage to ask a question that had been bugging her all afternoon. “What about Lisa Shelby? What happened with her?” Rayne watched him over the rim of her drink.

A hint of surprise registered on his face. “How did you know about me and Lisa?”

“The riding community is pretty tight-knit. I’ve heard rumors.”

He put his glass down on the bar. “Nothing much to say. We had some fun, but neither one of us were looking for anything permanent.”

“And is she why you left Shelby Stables?” Rayne could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“No, I left because I did all I could there. I was ready for a new challenge.” He ran his long fingers along the countertop as if debating his next course of action. “Don’t believe all the gossip you hear, Rayne. If you ever have questions about me, ask. I have nothing to hide.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She downed another swallow of wine, almost finishing her glass.

He came around the bar and took her wineglass. “You don’t trust me. That’s obvious.” He put the glass down on the bar. “But I want you to trust me. I’m not out to hurt you.”

“I know that, Trent, but I guess I’m still smarting from my divorce.”

He placed his arms about her and lifted her from the stool. “What can I do to prove I’m worth your trust?”

Rayne’s hands slid up his thick arms and around his neck. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

“Yes, I’m sure we can.”

Trent kissed her lips, and instantly her body responded to him. His arms tightened around her as she opened her mouth, tempting him with her tongue. His hands explored her back, and when he grabbed her butt, lifting her from the floor, a thunderbolt of panic seared through her.

“Perhaps we should…eat, first.”

He put her feet down. “Are you nervous?”

“No.” She tried to sound confident. “I just think we should eat before we get…distracted.”

“Distracted? I’m already distracted.” He let her go. “You know we don’t have to sleep together tonight, Rayne. We can wait, if that would make you more comfortable.”