Meg Lacey - Million Dollar Stud

“You’re not, huh?” His eyes held hers with a challenging gleam. “What if a time comes when I decide not to listen to you?”

“You—you…” Silver heard herself sputtering like a worn-out tractor. “You have no choice but to listen to me.”

“There’s always a choice. It’s just that sometimes there isn’t any maneuvering room.”

Silver lifted her chin and glared at him. “Well, you certainly aren’t going to maneuver me into something I don’t want to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

She shook her finger under his nose. “You will not get around me with what you consider excess charm.”

“I don’t want to get around you.” He held her gaze. “What makes you think I don’t have another position in mind?”

“Why, you…how dare you!” Even as he enraged her, she felt the lick of excitement race along her nerve endings.

He grinned. “Are you afraid you might enjoy it?”

“The sheer arrogance of that remark makes me want to fire you on the spot.”

“I don’t think you can do that, Silver. Since your father hired me, I believe he’s actually the one to fire me.”

“I’ll speak to him about it.”

“And you’re going to tell him what? After all, nothing happened. It’s not as if I kissed you or anything.” He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “What would you have done if I’d kissed you?”

“Slapped you with a harassment suit.” Which was stretching the truth, but as usual when she was angry, she lashed out regardless.

“Theoretically speaking, what if I kissed you and you kissed me back—with a great deal of passion, of course?”

She couldn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t.” Another lie.

“Silver?”

She glanced back, practically mesmerized by his reproachful dark eyes. “Oh, all right, I’m human. Maybe I would kiss you back. I don’t know why, except…”

“Except?”

Reluctant to answer, she looked away again. She might not understand herself lately, but she certainly wasn’t about to open her heart and mind to a man who’d only butted into her life an hour before.

One finger under her chin turned her back to face him. “Except maybe now you’re wondering what it would be like to have an adventure? To make love with a stranger? Not the familiar young blueblood your father wants you to marry.”

“No. I’ve never…I’m not marrying him. That’s my father’s idea, not mine.” She scowled. “Why am I even having this conversation with you? This is none of your business.”

He smiled, as sweetly as the big bad wolf looking for a snack. “I don’t know. Why are you?”

“You started it with all your talk of flirting.” Love with a stranger. She tingled at the thought. What woman didn’t have a few fantasies—maybe of a chance encounter with a dark stranger, and steamy, uncomplicated sex? That didn’t mean she acted on them.

After a long, searching moment and an even more searching look, Darcy stepped away from her to indicate the pile of sheets and towels. “Thanks for bringing these down.”

“My pleasure.” She threw her shoulders back, adjusted her pearls and tugged down her jacket, attempting to restore herself to the elegant woman she’d tried to present when she first came into his room, which was pretty damn hard under the circumstances. “I have to go.”

Darcy walked over and opened the door.

Silver walked past him, then stopped. “Oh, by the way, my mother asked me to invite you up to the house for dinner if you don’t have other plans.”

“I hope she isn’t going to any trouble.”

“No. There’s always plenty for one more. Mother’s used to cooking for a big family and can’t seem to stop.”

He hesitated, staring at Silver for a moment. “In that case, I’d be delighted.”

“I’ll pass that along. I, um…okay, I’ll see you.” Feeling awkward, she stood there for a moment, then turned and stepped away.

“Silver?”

“Yes?” She glanced over her shoulder. Darcy stood in the doorway, shoulder leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets. He was an animal in his prime, confident and seemingly at ease with the world and his place in it.

“What time?”

Her mind went blank as her eyes feasted on his chest. “Time?”

“For dinner.”

She met his gaze, noticing the devils dancing there, tempting her closer, beckoning her. “Seven.” Then Silver nodded and got out of there as fast as she could without looking as if she was running for her life.

Rick Darcy. She stared at the dusty black pickup parked outside the stables. Where had he come from? Her father had told her a bit about him, but not much. Why didn’t her father realize that managing Braybourne Farm was all she’d ever wanted to do? Since she was a little girl, she’d dreamed of what she would do when the farm was hers.

She turned from the pickup and stared at her home. She’d gone to the University of Kentucky, not far from here, and done the things expected of her—studied hard, joined a sorority, cheered the Wildcats on to victory, met the right people, then later got socially involved in the surrounding community—all in an effort to show her father how perfectly she would perform as the head of Braybourne Farm, given the chance. When her brother Brett had left a year ago she’d felt it was her time. Or so it had seemed. Her father had started turning to her more and more to talk over decisions. Silver felt as if she was making great strides. Until Harden fell from the horse and had decided to settle her future.

Settle her future! For God’s sake, she was only twenty-six, but to hear her father tell it, she was well on her way to mummification.

And now there was Rick Darcy.

She glanced over her shoulder at the dusty truck, imagining him behind the wheel, the image so strong that she shook her head. Not that Daddy would ever encourage her to look seriously at him—he was rather feudal on some issues, and breeding and family lineage were among them. She could respect his views because he was her father, even as she disagreed with the principles behind them. But her own inclinations might be the real problem, she thought. She hadn’t the vaguest idea why she was responding to Darcy so immediately and strongly, but she was. Maybe it was because she sensed he was different, much different from the men she knew. At her first sight of him standing in their barn this afternoon, feet planted as if he owned the place, he’d immediately gotten her back up. The fact that he had the hot come-and-get-me-or-it’s-your-loss-baby type of good looks was as annoying as it was enticing.

Swearing under her breath, she headed toward the fence that separated the drive from the landscaped grounds around the house, then stalked up the flagstone path. At least she’d recovered her cool enough at the end of their encounter to give Rick Darcy a good warning. He’d know better than to mess with her from now on. She kicked at a clump of dirt, muttering, “Why did Daddy have to hire him, anyway?”

With a frustrated huff, she stopped to cool off near one of the old, towering oaks that shaded the house. She had the unnerving feeling that things were spiraling out of her control. She didn’t like that. Regardless of how she often chafed at the restraints of tradition, she liked making plans and knowing where she was going and when she expected to get there. But now, as she looked at her home, she felt an element of uncertainty, of expectation. It no longer seemed a safe haven—not since Darcy had arrived on the scene. She rubbed the area between her brows, trying to erase the tension that had collected there. There was no reason for her to get bent out of shape. Her father had reassured her that the man was temporary, just until Harden’s health improved. But Silver had doubts that her father would ever return to his former capability, which made someone like Darcy even more of a threat. The thought saddened her. Her daddy had been such a big, marvelous presence in her life for so long. It was difficult to watch age creeping up on him, even though the process had been very gradual until this recent accident. His strength of will might still be powerful, but his body was beginning to decline.