Meg Lacey - Million Dollar Stud

“I didn’t sneak. I roared up and parked my car right outside behind that old pickup truck. Whose is it, anyway?”

Darcy hid a grin. She could see him perfectly well, but she wasn’t going to acknowledge him until she was forced to, a time-honored feminine play to get the upper hand. Funny, he didn’t think he looked like much of a threat, but maybe that moment of sheer sexual awareness hadn’t been one-sided. As intense as it was, he sure as hell hoped not. Ready to play, he nodded his head in mock deference.

“It belongs to me, Miss Braybourne. I’m sorry if it’s in your way. I can move it.”

“I parked right behind you, so you’ll have trouble getting out to leave.”

Darcy grinned. That was subtle. “I’m not going anywhere.” He’d thrown the first card. Now he waited to see if she’d pick it up.

She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

Harden jumped in. “This is my only daughter, Silver…uh, Sylvia. Honey, this is Mr. Darcy—”

“Darcy.”

“Uh, Darcy, who’s come to help us out for a while.”

She lifted her lids slowly, letting the long sweep of lashes flutter a bit before meeting his gaze. A slight smile played over her tempting lips. “Call me Silver, Darcy. Sylvia always makes me feel as if I’m in trouble.”

Tater chuckled. “You been in trouble since the day you was born, missy.”

“Now, Tater. You’ll give Darcy the wrong impression of me.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll happen,” Darcy said.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I’ve got a good idea what you’re all about.”

He did, too. He gave her a slow once-over. Silver Braybourne reminded him of the more successful debutantes he’d grown up with, the ones who made getting their own way an art. He was a bit surprised to find her kind here on this slightly run-down farm, but you never could judge by appearances. Darcy knew many illustrious families who’d slid into genteel poverty. His gaze met hers again.

Silver’s eyes glinted. “You think so, do you, Mr. Darcy?”

Again Harden jumped in. “How was the charity tea? Did you and your mother have a good time?”

“We had watercress sandwiches and fruit salad. What does that tell you?”

Darcy chuckled. “Southern fried chicken not on the menu, huh?”

Taken by surprise, Silver smiled at him. “Not even close.” She turned back to her father. “However, we did give the children’s hospital a big check from the money we raised in our Southern Ladies recipe book sale.”

A nice respectable organization with a nice respectable purpose. Figures, Darcy thought, almost sighing as he looked at Silver. Regardless of the impression she’d initially given him, Silver was just another dull debutante type—same as all the rest. Why had he thought even for a moment that she was different? Because he was in a different situation?

“So,” Silver said, “you’re here to help out, you said?”

“Yes, I’m—”

“Silver, why don’t you walk me back up to the house?” Harden said.

She patted his hand. “We’ll go in a few minutes, but right now it would be extremely rude of me to walk away when Darcy is talking to me, now wouldn’t it, Daddy?” She smiled at Darcy, tilting her head like an inquisitive bird. “You were saying?”

“I’m the new—”

“Tater,” Harden interrupted again, “why don’t you give him the back room to stay in for now.”

“Okay, Harden.”

With an annoyed glance at the two older men, Silver stepped forward until she was practically chest to chest with Darcy. The sheer intimidating intent of the move tickled the hell out of him. He wondered what she’d do if he slid his arms around her waist and pulled. Tempting, very tempting.

“You were saying?”

Darcy gave her his most innocent stare. “I don’t remember.”

Her voice dropped to a smooth whisper that had the kick of moonshine. “You said you’re the new…what?”

Darcy stepped a little bit closer. “The new manager.”

“The new manager of what?”

“This.” He waved his arm, as if the king of all he surveyed. “It’s just temporary, of course, till your father improves.”

Silver let out her breath in a snort that reminded Darcy of an ill-tempered pony. He waited to see what would happen next, half expecting her to come after him with teeth bared. “You are the temporary manager at Braybourne Farm?”

Darcy glanced at Harden and Tater, who were standing as still as statues. “Your father just hired me a few minutes ago.”

“I see.” She glanced over her shoulder at Harden, and Darcy was glad the man was made from strong stuff. Then she turned her attention back to him. “And you, what—magically appeared from thin air?”

He laughed. “No, I got into town this afternoon and ran into Tater. He said you needed some help here, and I was looking for something to do.”

“Something to do? Tennis or golf is something to do. Running a horse farm is a bit more complicated than that.”

Harden interrupted with a firm, impatient tone. “Silver, Darcy knows all that, or else I wouldn’t have hired him.”

Silver turned and stepped toward her father, while Tater took the opportunity to back out of range. “Oh, I don’t know, Daddy. I think you would have hired anything that had the right equipment between its legs.”

Harden stiffened, gripping his cane. “Wait a minute, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean this is a boys-only club, isn’t it? No girls allowed. Well, sorry, but this girl’s here—and she’s staying! You know you promised me that—”

Clearing his throat, Harden attempted to regain control. “Sylvia, we will not discuss this at the moment.”

Silver propped her fists on her hips. “I don’t know a better time.”

“Well, there is a better place, young lady. You do not air your grievances in front of the hired help.” Harden turned and started for the stable entrance. “It’s not proper.”

The hired help. Darcy wasn’t sure if he should be amused or insulted by that comment. He’d never been called that before. He glanced at Tater. Although he could actually remember having referred to some of his people that way, he’d had no idea until just now how arrogant it sounded.

Silver stalked after her father. “Daddy, don’t just turn around and walk away from me.”

For a moment, Darcy wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing. Neither did Tater. Finally Tater sighed. “I guess I ain’t meant to understand women. I’ll take a horse any day.”

Darcy chuckled, which seemed to break the tension the Braybournes had left behind. Tater gave him a reluctant grin in return.

“Come on, Darcy, I’ll show you where you can bunk for a while. It’s not luxurious, but it’s cozy.”

TATER LED THE WAY back through the barn and stopped at the door next to the manager’s office. Surprised, Darcy said, “You want me to live in the stables?” He’d been positive Tater was going to lead him out the far end of the building.

Tater seemed taken aback. “What’s that?”

Darcy recovered fast, aware that he must have sounded snobby. “I mean, I’m surprised that your manager’s residence is in the stable.”

“This ain’t really the manager’s place,” Tater said as he opened the door and stepped aside to let Darcy into the room. “We have a house on the property, but we had a fire about a year ago and still haven’t finished renovating it. Always seemed to be somewhere else to put the money.” Tater looked around. “This here room’s where the groom usually stays, but it’s just sittin’ here empty at the moment. You don’t mind sleeping in the stables, do you?”

Darcy blinked as he met Tater’s hard stare. If he’d been asked that question a few days ago, he would have wondered if the person asking had lost his mind. But now he waved his arm in an expansive gesture. “No, sir, of course I don’t. If it’s good enough for the horses, it’s good enough for me.”