Leah Vale - The Rich Boy

Alex was hurting. Madeline’s shift in focus was as absolute as it was unexpected. She herself hadn’t seen much sign of him mourning for Marcus, so she’d thought he was fine—as fine as he could be considering his loss. Had he simply been hiding his pain?

He said, “You got any ideas, big guy?”

The horse actually made a soft rumbling sound that reminded Madeline of a giant cat’s purr.

“I know, I know.” Alex soothed the magnificent animal. “You’d help if you could. I just wish I didn’t feel so much like running away.”

What? Alex run away? More than capable of solving problems, he was the kind of guy to run to them, not away.

He sighed, tracing a path down the horse’s long face with the tip of his forefinger. “I simply don’t know who I am anymore.”

Madeline’s heart lodged firmly in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly the last thing on her mind was digging up dirt on this most privileged of the privileged.

All she wanted to do was comfort Alexander McCoy.

“Alex.”

Madeline’s voice cracked on his name, but she couldn’t help it.

Both the big man and the big horse jerked at the sound of her voice, then Alex wheeled toward her. His eyes narrowed and he stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Or rather who.

“You?” His growled question confirmed her suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

Madeline moved to the open stall door. “Are you okay?”

“I said, what are you doing here?” The undercurrent of pain was clear in his voice and seemed to reach out, grab hold of her heart and squeeze.

She put a hand on the stall door to steady herself. “Searching for you.”

He made a disparaging noise. “Just what I need.” He returned his attention to his horse, stroking a hand down its cheek. The horse shifted into a stripe of moonlight and the rich brown tones of its glossy coat virtually glowed.

The squeeze on her heart intensified. She scrabbled for safe ground. “What’s its name?”

Alex jerked his gaze to hers. “What?”

She gestured to the sleek animal. “Your horse. What’s its name?”

He straightened the narrow leather halter where it encircled the horse’s nose. “It is a stallion, and he raced under the name Most Excellent Endeavor, but his stable name is Duke.” Alex’s voice, demeanor, everything altered—relaxed—as he spoke of his horse.

Thank goodness some things hadn’t changed. His horses had always been so special to him, had been his escape from the stresses of being who he was. A McCoy.

She smiled. “He looks like a Duke. I bet he was a Most Excellent Endeavor for you, also. But aren’t stallions dangerous?”

He scoffed and let her know she’d just revealed her ignorance of horses. “Not if they’re decently trained. And this guy is well past his frisky days. Mostly.”

“Oh. Sorry. This is the closest I’ve ever been to one. When I was growing up my mother wanted me to take riding lessons to help ‘further my poise’ during my pageant training days, but my dad thought learning to play golf would serve me better later in life.” As some corporate executive or politician’s wife. Either would give her a status that would reflect well on him.

The pain of always being molded into something had dulled over the years, but not nearly enough for her to forget.

She sensed his stare. “Has it?”

She raised her chin. “Not lately.”

His skepticism filled the air between them and raised her ire. “I have no intention of settling for spending my life playing golf and hanging off some rich boy’s arm.”

To shift the conversation away from her and to keep him at ease, she gestured to the horse again. “So he’s a thoroughbred?”

“One of the finest. But like I said, his racing days are over. Now he occasionally gets to be a stud, and when he’s not entertaining a special lady, he’s my favorite saddle horse.”

For some ridiculous reason Madeline’s cheeks heated. If only she hadn’t thought of Alex and the horse as magnificent beasts…She cleared her throat, forcing herself to instead think of what she’d heard when she’d first found him. “Alex, what did you mean when you said you didn’t know who—”

“Look, Maddy.” He turned toward her, in a flash once again stiff and agitated. “No offense, but you are—without a doubt—the last person I want to talk to right now.”

The air left her lungs in a rush and her fingers curled against the smooth, whitewashed wood of the stall door. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized we’d ended things that badly.”

His sigh reverberated in the stall. Straw crunched as he took a step toward her. “It’s not because of that—We didn’t end badly. At least, I didn’t think so.”

Of course he wouldn’t. He was the one who’d stopped calling. But she’d been in the process of moving to start her new job at Entertainment This Evening in L.A., so she’d told herself their breakup was for the best. Which generally worked, except for late at night when she occasionally tortured herself with what-ifs.

He took another step forward, out of the shaft of moonlight and into an area shadowed by a thick ceiling beam, hiding his expressions from her, increasing his size. “It’s because of what you do. Your job.” His voice had dropped. Hardened.

Disappointment swept through her. He was putting up a wall. She was stunned by how much she’d wanted to reach him, to be there for him. If only he’d let her.

But the battle lines were drawn. So be it.

“That’s not why I’m here,” she blurted. Certainly not after she’d seen the state he was in. Joseph might be the head of the family and corporation, but from what she could tell, Alex was the backbone. And he didn’t let anyone close enough to support him while he was working to support so many others.

“Forgive me for being skeptical.”

She had to, because he dang well should be. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from claiming otherwise. The practical side of her, the side she normally listened to, told her she needed to get back on track, that she was in this stable because of her job. She should ignore how much his upset unsettled her and get past his antagonism so he’d talk to her.

She took a stab at reassuring him without actually lying to him. “I’m in the entertainment news business, Alex.”

“Unfortunately people are entertained by the damnedest things nowadays.” He moved closer still. “Besides, when we were together—”

“For a few official functions at the end of my reign and a handful of not-so-private dinner dates, thanks to both our notoriety…” she interjected, trying to make light of their past relationship to lessen the awkwardness it caused.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I had the distinct impression you had a thing for investigative reporting.”

Madeline pulled her chin back. He’d noticed her dream. And remembered. “That was seven years ago.” And it had taken her that long to feel she had the knowledge and experience to go after her dream.

She barely caught his shrug in the dim light.

“People change,” she hedged to throw him off course.

“You’ve only changed for the better.”

The husky timber of his voice more than the unexpected compliment sent heat creeping up her chest. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

He stood motionless and silent for a long moment, and she would have given anything to see what might be in those incredible steely blue eyes of his.

Finally he said, “What do you want to know?”

She wet her lips, afraid of blowing her chance. The first question that popped into her head was Are you really Marcus’s brother? but she couldn’t lead with The Big Question. And an awfully large part of her was still concerned about him. The part that had never forgotten their time together.