Meg Lacey - Million Dollar Stud

Exhaling, Tater clasped Darcy’s shoulder. “That’s the attitude, boy. Had me worried for a minute. But I always say that bedding down with horses is a lot safer than bedding down with a woman.”

Grinning, Darcy said, “Safer, but not as interesting.” A picture of Silver Braybourne immediately formed in his mind, her eyes heavy with sleep, hair tousled, the silk strap of her nightgown sliding off her shoulder. Given his choice between a horse and Silver, he’d take Silver anytime.

“Some women have a knack of getting in a man’s blood, heating it until it boils over.”

Recalled to his surroundings, Darcy met Tater’s wise old eyes, and realized he probably knew exactly what thoughts had been racing through his mind. “Those are the kind of women I try to avoid. It’s too much like commitment.”

“Sometimes it ain’t so easy. You gotta have eyes in the back of your head to see ’em coming.”

Darcy smiled and changed the subject. “This’ll do just fine,” he said, looking around the room. “So where do you live, Tater?”

“I got me a little place just the other side of that big hill behind the house. My daddy left it to me. He worked for the Braybournes, too, an’ so did my granddad. Braybournes and O’Neills have been together since the beginning, I guess. I watched all four of those little ones grow up, Silver and her three brothers.” He smiled, staring into the distance at an image only he could see. “I put Silver on her first pony and taught her to ride. She was a little stick of a thing as a kid, but that little gal was the prettiest rider I ever seen. Fearless, she was.” Tater shook his head. “But impulsive.”

“It seems to me she hasn’t changed a great deal.”

Tater winked. “Sure has changed on the outside, though, boy.”

Darcy grinned. “I noticed.”

Nodding, Tater said in a dry tone, “I noticed you noticing.”

“Hopefully her father didn’t,” Darcy said, sharing a wry look with the older man. “Don’t worry, I’m just looking. With a woman like that, it’s practically my civic duty.”

Tater held his gaze for a moment longer, then changed the subject. “I expect Harden will send down some sheets and such. Bathroom’s over there, an’ you got a closet, readin’ chair and light. You even got a little refrigerator and one of them microwave things over there in the corner. Most of your meals you’ll take up at the house with the family. Can’t have no real cooking in here, ya know.”

“Do you eat with the family, too?”

“When I want. But most times I cook for myself.” Tater looked around and rubbed his hands together. “So, you’re all set, right and tight?”

Darcy walked him to the door. “Yes, sir. I’ll get my things from the truck and make myself at home.”

“I’ll finish my errands and I’ll see ya tomorrow morning, then.”

Darcy watched Tater leave, then stepped outside, walking over to his truck to roll up the windows and collect his bag. He stopped for a moment and glanced toward the riding rings and track. The heat was still a force to be reckoned with, and the late afternoon sunshine shimmered off the ground.

He took his time on his way back to his room, stopping to visit each horse as he tried to familiarize himself with his new domain. The last stall contained a black stallion that seemed determined to ignore him. Darcy sensed a wild spirit in the horse, one that called to him. But no amount of coaxing would bring the black any closer.

“Suit yourself, then,” he said. “You’ll have to make friends sometime.”

The horse snorted.

With a grin, Darcy turned and went into his room. He threw the duffel bag onto the chair and went straight to the bathroom. He closed the door and stripped, dropping his clothes on the floor before stepping into the shower. The water sluiced over his skin, washing away the dust he’d gathered on the road. He stood for a long moment, face to the spray, and just enjoyed himself. He was very pleased with the way things had turned out.

Stepping out of the stall into a steamy bathroom, he caught sight of his reflection in the foggy mirror. Well, here you are, Kristof. You wanted to be just a normal, everyday guy. He grabbed the towel and wiped off, then knotting the towel around his waist, opened the door and stepped into his room.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Silver gasped, standing frozen in position near the door. “I knocked, but didn’t realize…”

Darcy stood, stunned for a moment, then recovered as he noticed both her shocked expression and the bundle of bedding and towels she held in her arms. He thrust his hands through his hair, slicking it back. “I take it this is an official hostess visit?”

Silver struggled to get her flushed features under control. “What else would it be?”

Darcy glanced from her to the bed, knowing just how to annoy her for maximum result. “Hope on, hope ever.”

“Hope never, is more like it.”

“Now, now, Silver.” He winked. “Never is such a long time.”

Silver scowled. “I brought you some sheets and a blanket.”

“I don’t think I’ll need a blanket.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I generally do.”

Silver cleared her throat. “I brought towels, too.”

Darcy looked down at the damp towel covering him from waist to midthigh. “Now, towels I’m really going to need. This is my only one.” He glanced up, catching Silver as she focused her attention on his hips. If she kept staring at him, she was going to see more than she bargained for.

She jerked her gaze up to meet his. The atmosphere suddenly turned steamier than his recent shower as they stared at each other. Neither said a word as Darcy’s eyes roamed over her face, over those high cheekbones, catlike eyes, tilted nose. He stopped at the lips. She had a mouth shaped for giving pleasure, the top lip a perfect bow, the bottom one plump and sensuous. As he stared, her teeth worried her lower lip for a moment before releasing it. He wanted to catch that ripe, moist lip between his own teeth and nibble until she opened wide. He tried to keep his thoughts hidden, but the way the towel was creeping up in the front, he was pretty sure she had a good idea what he was thinking.

Silver tightened her grip on the bundle in her arms and exhaled. “Well, I—I should…”

Darcy followed her lead, trying to bring the situation back to some type of normality before he said the hell with it and threw her on the bed. “It’s nice of you to deliver these in person. I would have come and gotten them.”

“My mother asked me to bring them down right away. She wanted you to feel at home.”

“That’s very kind of her.” He sent her a teasing look. “And what a dutiful daughter you are to respond so promptly.” He didn’t know why he was continuing to goad her. Was it to see if she was still as impulsive underneath that ladylike exterior as Tater had indicated? All he knew was he wanted her to lose control, not give him that smooth, practiced smile designed to keep him at arm’s length.

“Don’t push your luck.”

He grinned. “I generally have a lot of it to push.”

Silver glanced away. “And the ego to go with it, it seems, Mr. Darcy.” Was that a smile at the corner of her mouth?

Darcy stepped closer and cupped her chin, turning her face back to him. “Please, just call me Darcy, remember?”

“Your name could be Quasimodo for all I care.”

Absently, his thumb caressed her chin as he watched her. “You can call me that if it makes you happy.”

“That wouldn’t make me happy. The thing that would make me happy is for you to go somewhere else.”

He dropped his hand. “Why? You need help here, from what I’ve seen. So I’m here to help.”