The Colton Bodyguard. Carla Cassidy
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He paused to pour the eggs into the skillet. “Mark has always preferred play over work.” There was no censure in his voice. It was just a statement of fact that Greta knew to be true.
Greta sipped her coffee and wondered now how she’d ever thought she could find happiness with Mark. She’d suspected from the very beginning of their relationship that he was cheating on her. She knew he didn’t possess much of a work ethic. They’d had very little in common and had never really talked about what their future together would look like.
But he had been so charming and attentive when they were together, and he’d always managed to sweep away her suspicions about him and other women. Tyler was right. Marrying Mark would have been a terrible mistake.
Greta shunned the limelight and Mark craved it. She loved her work as a horse trainer and he’d been bored by it. Despite their engagement and wedding plans, Mark’s interest in her had begun to wane the minute he’d found out she wasn’t a blood Colton but rather adopted. A recent fact that had been revealed that she was still trying to come to terms with herself.
“Here we go.” Tyler set a plate in front of her and then took a seat next to her at the table with his own plate in front of him.
“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to cook me breakfast. You could have just shown me the horse and I’d have been on my way.”
He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company while I ate breakfast.”
“Do you cook breakfast for all the women you sleep with?” she asked, and a faint warmth filled her cheeks.
“All the women I sleep with?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you knew how few women I’ve slept with over the last couple of years, you’d feel sorry for me and offer to be my lover every single night.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a piece of work, Tyler Stanton.”
“Yes, I am, but what I’m saying is true. I’m not a player, Greta.”
“Then what are you doing with me?”
He sobered and gazed at her for a long moment. “To be honest, I’m not really sure, but I like what I’m doing with you so far. Now, eat up before it gets cold.”
While they ate, she was grateful that he kept up a light conversation, talking about the changes he’d made to Stanton Oil since his parents had died in a car accident ten years ago. At twenty-two he’d stepped in as president of the company and eventually had appointed his two-years-younger brother as vice president.
“I had to work twice as hard and twice as long as anyone else to earn the respect of my employees. To most of them I was a snot-nosed kid who’d just graduated from college with a business degree but didn’t have the age or wisdom to run the company.”
“But you proved them all wrong,” she replied. She knew how respected Tyler was in the business world.
“It took time but I now enjoy a good relationship with everyone who works for me,” he replied with a touch of pride in his voice.
She was vaguely surprised that there was no morning-after awkwardness. He was warm and easy to talk to, showing her a side of him she’d never seen before.
By the time they’d finished eating and she’d helped him with the cleanup, she was ready to see the horse he’d told her about.
He helped her into her coat and then he donned a casual leather jacket and they left the house by a back door in the kitchen. In the distance several outbuildings rose up, certainly nothing like the big cattle operation at the Colton ranch but enough pasture and room for a few horses.
The early-November sun was warm, and as they drew closer, she identified the outbuildings as a small barn and stables. There were two corrals, a large one in the distance and a smaller one with a shedlike structure that would provide shelter from the weather. In the small corral a black Thoroughbred filly danced nervously as they approached.
“Oh, Tyler, she’s beautiful,” Greta exclaimed.
“And so far completely unbreakable,” he replied.
When they reached the fence, the filly backed to the opposite side. She pawed the ground and shook her head in a show of spirited temperament.
The excitement of a new challenge rose up in Greta. “She has good lines. Do you intend to race her?”
“No, nothing like that. I just want to be able to ride her. I want her to trust somebody and find some peace.”
Greta looked up at Tyler, surprised and touched by his words. The man continued to keep her slightly off balance. He was proving himself to be nothing like she’d originally thought.
She looked back at the filly and her heart ached with the need to soothe, to cure. The physical wounds the horse had sported when bought by Tyler had apparently healed.
Her coat looked shiny and full, and while she was still a bit on the thin side, she looked healthy. But she was obviously tormented by the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her human owner and those scars were deep inside her.
“I want to work with her,” she said firmly.
“Great!” Tyler smiled with pleasure. “I hear you’re one of the best in the business, so I know she’ll be in good hands. You know, the easiest way is for you to move in here so that you can work with her whenever you want. It’s silly for you to drive back and forth from here to Tulsa.”
She knew he was right. Often when she was training a horse, she stayed on the ranch where the horse was located. Besides, things had been so tense at home lately. The idea of a couple of weeks away was definitely appealing.
“I’ll drive home now and pack some bags and come back here later this evening,” she finally said. She didn’t know if her decision was a mistake or not, but as she looked at the filly, she knew with certainty she wanted to help her, to train her to trust again.
He nodded. “I have two ranch hands. Bill Naters takes care of upkeep and lawn work and whatever else needs to be done. He’s here off and on. Raymond Edwards is here full-time during the days and works mostly in the stables and with the horses. Just tell him whatever you need and he’ll see to it that you get it. You can usually find him either in the stables or in the barn.”
They began the walk back to the house. “Should I expect your return by dinnertime?” he asked once they were back in the house and she had grabbed her purse to leave.
She looked at her watch. “Yes, I should be able to make it back here by early evening.”
He opened the front door and together they left the house and headed toward her Jeep in the driveway. “We’ll go out to dinner. Do you like steak?”
She smiled at him. “I grew up on a cattle ranch. I cut my teeth on a T-bone.”
“Dumb question,” he replied with a charming grin. “There’s a great steak place not far from here. How does that sound