Winning Ways (2 page)

Liz stepped through the entrance of the arena building and blinked. After the brilliant midday sunshine, the softer light inside made everything appear dark and dreamy for a few moments. When her eyes adjusted, she scanned the rows of seats ringing the center arena. Few spectators attended this last day of the show, but small pockets of exhibitors peppered the grandstand, unwinding after a long week of classes. Colleen's blonde head was not amongst them, but Liz sat down anyway, grateful for a chance to relax. A youth driving class entered the ring, and she watched with little interest.

Five minutes later, Colleen scooted into a seat, and took a long swig of soda. "You all packed?"

"Yeah...I could take off now, but I'd get home late, and still have to unload the horses and feed them. I'll stay here and try for a decent night's sleep."

"Ain't you goin' to the celebration tonight?"

"I'm not much for parties."

"Aw, come on. You could go for just a little while. These shindigs are fun. And besides, you'll meet lots of people from your area. You could hand out business cards." She grinned. "You can't ever have too many customers, huh?"

Little do you know. Colleen's comment was a keen-edged reminder that Liz needed clients, or she'd soon be in real trouble. Rather than a social event, she'd have to regard the get-together as a business necessity.

"Okay, but only for a while."

The music floating through the arena stopped abruptly as the last horse and cart left the ring. The loudspeaker blared the name of an exhibitor, the gate opened, and a tall woman led a beautiful chestnut stallion into the ring.

Colleen nudged Liz. "Liberty class. This is such a hoot."

Liz shook her head. "I haven't figured out the purpose of this class, but everyone seems to enjoy it."

The heavy bass thump of rock music filled the air, and the woman in the ring unhooked the lead rope. The horse whirled on his hind legs, and raced along the length of the arena, tail flagged and mane flying. The handler started after him, barking commands, and urging him on by snapping a long driving whip.

Liz watched with amusement as the woman positioned herself to catch the horse within the required two minutes. The animal danced away, tossing his head and staying just out of reach until the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the time limit. Another three minutes passed before the woman and two helpers cornered the playful stallion.

Colleen chuckled. "She can never catch her horses. I don't know why she enters these classes."

Seconds later, a throbbing melody pulsed through the arena, the theme from Bolero charging the atmosphere with exotic promise.

Colleen gasped. "Oh, Gawd, there's Kurt! Ain't he the most gorgeous hunk you ever saw?"

Liz was already focused on the swarthy man in the ring. Mr. Cowboy. Yes, he's most definitely gorgeous. Too bad that's where the attraction ends.

She tried to keep her tone light. "What's his name?"

Colleen's eyebrows wiggled lecherously. "Kurt DeVallio. He's Italian or something. Mostly something!"

Liz glanced back at the arena and huffed. "Mostly jerk, I'd say."

She felt Colleen's inquiring gaze, but carefully ignored it, concentrating instead on Kurt. He reached out, and unhooked the lead rope from a small bay stallion with long legs and an exquisite head. Liz's sharp eye for pedigree drove her thoughts. That horse has to be straight Egyptian.

The animal pranced away, his neck arched and tail up. He skimmed over the soft dirt, his finely boned legs moving in what seemed to be slow motion. Enchanted, Liz watched the horse dance in almost flawless rhythm to the music. My God, how did he teach him to do that?

Colleen spoke as though she'd read Liz's mind.

"That man has some really spooky, mystical powers over horses. It's almost like he's one of them, instead of one of us."

Liz wrested her gaze from the stallion and looked back to where Kurt stood motionless in the center of the arena, watching every move of the spectacular creature floating around the perimeter.

In the uncomfortably close quarters of the stall that morning, the man had seemed bulky and intimidating, but from this distance, Liz admired his tall stature, trim frame, well-developed muscles, and fluid movements. A now-familiar flutter started in the pit of her stomach, and warmth crawled up her neck. Audacious men usually didn't impress her, but this one absolutely had her attention.

The passionate swell of the music grew, and Kurt took two steps, holding out his right hand. The stallion ceased his performance and trotted straight over to Kurt. The lead rope snapped into place as the buzzer sounded and the audience went crazy. Liz exhaled slowly, unaware she'd been holding her breath.

Colleen nudged her arm. "Are ya gonna tell me about it?"

Liz blushed, wondering how many of her thoughts had been obvious.

"I had a little run-in with him this morning."

Colleen leaned forward eagerly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Good or bad?"

"Definitely not good. Let's just say Mr. Cowboy is short on couth."

Colleen chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard he can be moody, but I wouldn't throw him away!"

Liz smiled wryly. "He's all yours."

Laughter and music drifted through the doors of the recreation hall. Inside, horse owners, trainers, and grooms partied, celebrating the end of a rigorous week. Liz took a deep breath and tried to relax. I hate this! She hesitated, trying to calm her thoughts. A glance down at her teal silk pantsuit sent doubt crawling through her head. I'm probably over-dressed. Maybe I should have worn jeans. She started thinking up reasons to avoid the festivities. She was tired...tomorrow would be a long, busy day...she needed her rest.

She sighed. Colleen was right. It was important to get out and meet other people in the industry, but Liz's quiet nature turned social gatherings into bad dreams. The last thing she wanted to do was pretend to have a good time. Before Liz could escape, Colleen appeared, her keen expression confirming there'd be no weaseling out of the evening.

The two women bumped their way through the crowd, inch by inch. The music was too loud, and people shouted over the ever-increasing din. Peals of unfettered laughter ricocheted around the room, and Liz's head began to swim. Why did I let her talk me into this?

They battled their way to the front of a small bar in the corner, and Liz ordered white wine. Glass in hand, she turned to watch the people. A few familiar faces, but mostly strangers. Mindlessly, she slipped her hand into her pocket, and fingered the hard edge of the business cards.

Many of the women in the crowd were well-dressed, wealthy owners whose designer clothes and stunning, one-of-a-kind jewelry generated a glamorous testament to the financial health of the Arabian horse industry. Liz relaxed a little, relieved that she hadn't worn jeans, but a tiny shiver of apprehension rolled across her shoulders anyway.

Colleen interrupted the fashion critique.

"That bartender is the cutest thing I've ever seen. I'll have to see if I can rattle his cage for later."

She caught Liz's expression, and a wicked smile sneaked across her face. "What? You think I'm a nun?"

Liz reddened, uncomfortable with Colleen's frank sexuality. As a girl, Liz's only female role model had been an aged maiden aunt in Connecticut, with whom she'd spent little time. Aunt Grace would never have revealed her interest in a man. By choice, Liz had limited experience with men, having always preferred to stay immersed safely in her studies, her veterinary practice and, more recently, her horses.

An urgent whisper tickled her ear. "Look who just walked in." Liz had already spotted Kurt. Her brain absorbed every detail of the impressive man moving through the merrymakers.

She shook her head. "Too bad his personality doesn't match his looks."

Colleen giggled. "Why don'tcha see if you can get him for a client?" Her tone became suggestive. "Or something?"

Liz shook her head vigorously and frowned. "Not a chance!"

Colleen gave her a pitying smile, then returned to the bar, intent on her mission to snare the bartender.

Liz looked back at the crowd, her eyes searching for Kurt. From her invisible spot amongst the mass of horse folk, she focused on the man who sent her pulse skipping through her veins. His outward appearance seemed warm and approachable, and he appeared to be popular with everyone, but something else enhanced his allure. Liz remembered the almost intimate interchange that morning, surrounded by wooden walls and iron bars, the air humming with repressed hostility and sensual tension.

She exhaled slowly, remembering how seamlessly his angry face had smoothed into undisguised interest, and her surprising reaction to the change. Just thinking about it brought the same feelings flooding back into her chest.

Irritated that the memory held her so firmly, she redirected her thoughts. I might as well get some work done. She reached for the lump of cards in her pocket. As she worked through the crowd, introducing herself to several horse owners, she advanced steadily toward the door and her escape. She hated making small talk, but she gave it her best shot, subconsciously marking time until she'd be able to slip away.

A statuesque woman stood alone in the corner, and Liz saw her chance.

"Hi, I'm Liz Barnett, Legacy Arabians in Garden Valley."

They shook hands and the woman smiled, visibly pleased to have company.

"Annie Brown. I'm from Placerville."

"Yes, I saw you in the liberty class this afternoon."

"I can never catch that rascal. I don't know why I keep entering those classes, except they're so much fun."

"Isn't that what it's all about? Fun?"

"Here and now, yes. But get in there with the big boys, and you spend a lot of time watching your back. What a crazy business!"

Liz nodded solemnly, then extended a business card.

Annie's face lit up. "A vet! Great! Doc Sams is always so busy you can't get him when you need him. Everyone in these parts will be glad he's found himself a partner."

Like I ever get called. Liz peeked at her watch, and then searched the far corner to find Colleen, who was still optimistically chatting up the bartender. I'll just slip out of here, then apologize later.

She said goodbye to Annie, turned to leave, and collided with a substantial body. Large hands grasped her shoulders firmly to keep her from stumbling.

A velvety voice kissed the air. "Whoa, Girl."

Liz's gaze moved up the ladder of pearl buttons on a pale blue shirt, and met the smoky gaze of Kurt DeVallio. Her heart thudded, her senses sharpened by his nearness. Beneath the silk blouse, her shoulders burned under his firm touch, the sensation creeping downward like a slow trickle of warm honey. Her breath caught as amusement flooded into his dark, captivating eyes. His jaw was shadowed with a charcoal dusting of five-o'clock, and his moustache twitched as though he held back a smile.

Embarrassed by her thoughts, she dropped her eyes, her heart pounding so hard she feared he would hear it.

She stepped back from his grasp, and turned to leave.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Wait a minute."

She stopped, bracing herself for a tirade, though his voice held none of the aggression she'd heard that morning. She looked up, noticing his lips as he talked, and how his moustache rippled invitingly with the shape of each word.

"I want to apologize for this morning. I shouldn't have been so rude."

"I understand. I'm sure you were startled to find a stranger in your horse's stall."

He didn't reply, but a contemplative expression softened his strong features. The silence hanging between them felt uncomfortable, and Liz turned to leave. Kurt's hand settled on her arm, and a volley of tingles raced across her skin.

"Would you like to dance?"

She swallowed hard. She couldn't imagine getting close enough to this man to feel his arms around her.

She glanced up apologetically. "I really need to go. I'm leaving early in the morning."

His rich laugh swirled around them.

"One dance won't make you late."

Smiling wickedly, he reached down and took her hand. Unable to protest, she followed him onto the dance floor, the warmth of his strong fingers sending tiny electric shocks through her body, and waves of delighted terror through her mind. She slipped into his arms and let herself be swept away by the music and the man.

One spin later, his velvety voice broke into her tumbling thoughts.

"Let's start over. I'm Kurt DeVallio."

She tipped her head back to look at him. "Liz Barnett."

"I don't believe I've seen you here before."

"That's because I've never been here before."

Oh yeah, Liz... that was profound!

He pulled her close against him, guiding her effortlessly around the jammed dance floor. His warmth pervaded her clothing, taking her breath away. The soft surface of his chambray shirt brushed against her cheek, and a tantalizing whiff of spicy aftershave teased her nose. The music faded, and Liz stepped back, surprised and disappointed that the dance had ended. Kurt stood motionless, looking down into her eyes, his expression oozing self-confidence. Slowly, the sensual rhythm of Bolero filtered into Liz's head for the second time that day. With a smoldering look, Kurt roughly took her back into his arms, and began to move to the exotic beat of the music, his body brushing against her suggestively, his gaze never leaving her face. Courage rose in her chest and she held his eyes with her own, savoring the indescribable feelings that coursed through her body. The last strains of the song died, and Kurt stepped back, still holding her arms as he stared straight into her soul. Her chest felt as though it might cave in, excitement surging through her in reply to his unspoken message. A speculative smile spread slowly across his face. His voice hummed on the air between them.

"So, Liz Barnett. Where are you from?"

Relieved for the distraction, she relaxed. "Garden Valley. I've joined a veterinary practice there."

"Oh, yeah, Doc Sams. I heard he had a new partner, but nobody told me he'd wimped out ‘n' hired a fee-male."

Like a bucket of ice water, the remark drenched Liz's warm feelings. She jerked her arms from his grasp, and stepped back.

"And what possible difference could that make?"

The deep frustrations of the past few months leapt up, and adrenaline flooded through her. She couldn't deal with one more insult that day. Without waiting for an answer, she left the dance-floor, headed for the exit.

Outside, Colleen snagged her arm. "Well, you two certainly hit it off."

Liz glowered. "I don't think so!"

She glanced back over her shoulder. Through the open door, Kurt remained exactly where she'd left him, his arms casually folded across his chest, a sexy smile lighting his extraordinary face. Dark eyes challenged her to come back.

She met his gaze. No way, Cowboy!

Kurt's attention lingered on Liz's firm behind, rippling innocently beneath the slinky fabric of her pants as she stalked away. Man, she is some classy filly! The opulent color and sheen of her clothing complemented her smooth olive skin and enhanced her deep blue eyes. Raven-colored hair, thick and shiny, brushed her shoulders. If I had to guess, I'd say the lady has some Italian blood flowing through those hot veins. He grinned, remembering her feisty manner in the stall that morning. He'd also felt her tense eagerness on the dance floor. The memory stimulated his thoughts toward finding a way to get her into his bed.