Garnier was well over six feet of pure male sex appeal and it was no wonder that he had an endless stream of women clamoring for his attention. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, he had the lean, muscular body of an athlete. When they’d met at the thoroughbred auction in Los Angeles, he’d been striking in a suit and tie, but today in jeans and a T-shirt, he was raw sensuality from his thick black hair to the soles of his outrageously expensive running shoes.
Sighing heavily, she went into the tack room, retrieved a saddle, then returned to place it on the horse’s back. She tightened the saddle’s girth, then bridling Silver, led him out of the stable toward the practice track.
As much as she’d like to forget what happened that night in L.A., she couldn’t regret it. Jake was arguably the biggest player on the entire West Coast. But there was an earnestness to his charm that she’d found completely irresistible. And she was reminded of how captivating it was each and every time she gazed into her baby daughter’s eyes. Eyes that were the same cobalt blue and held the same sparkle of mischief as Jake Garnier’s.
* * *
Walking back up the path from the immaculately kept stables, Jake wondered what the hell had just taken place. He wasn’t used to getting the cold shoulder from women and Heather’s blatant snub didn’t sit well.
There were only two things besides his siblings and highly successful law practice that caught and held his attention for any length of time and that was fast, flashy cars and shamelessly uninhibited women. And to his immense pleasure, the first frequently attracted plenty of the latter.
So why did one woman’s obviously low opinion of him matter? He wasn’t sure, but there had been a sparkle of hostility in Heather’s eyes that had taken him completely by surprise.
Thinking back to the first time he’d seen her, he still couldn’t believe how captivating she’d been. He’d attended a thoroughbred auction to personally see that the woman he’d represented in a bitter divorce sold the horses she and her husband had purchased as an investment. Jake had quickly lost interest in the parade of equine offerings and looking around spotted a pretty little filly of the human variety to divert his attention. And from the moment he introduced himself to her, he found Heather to be the most enchanting woman he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.
They’d spent the rest of that day and one incredibly sensuous night together and over the course of the past year he’d come to the conclusion that he should have asked for her last name and a number where he could reach her. It was totally out of character for him and something he’d never contemplated before. Once he parted ways with a woman, he never looked back, never had the slightest regret about not contacting her again. At least he hadn’t until Heather.
But surely she wasn’t angry that he hadn’t kept in touch over the fifteen months since. Besides the fact that he didn’t know how to reach her, it was a well-known fact that he wasn’t looking for a relationship of any kind and that none of his liaisons went any further than a good time.
He had no idea if that’s what the problem was, but he had every intention of finding out and settling the animosity between them once and for all. If she was going to be running the horse farm that his newfound grandmother, Emerald Larson, had insisted he take over, it was essential that they get whatever had her panties in a twist straightened out so they could at least be civil.
In the meantime, he needed to unpack and put in a call to Emerald, Inc. headquarters to find out what the hell Emerald had up her sleeve this time. Given her track record of setting her grandchildren up to find their soul mate, he wasn’t naive enough to think that she wasn’t attempting to do the same thing with him. He wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but she had to have discovered that, however brief it had been, that he and Heather had a bit of history.
But the old girl was in for a big disappointment if she thought her tactics were going to work with him. He wasn’t looking to settle down with a wife, kids and the requisite canine. Nor was he inclined to trade his sleek little red Ferrari for a family-friendly minivan with car seats and clumps of dog hair.
With a plan of action to set down a few ground rules for both Emerald and his farm manager, Jake followed the path around the antebellum mansion to the circular drive in front where he’d parked his sports car. Just as he pressed the remote on his keychain to open the trunk, a teenage boy wearing stylishly ragged jeans, an oversize chartreuse T-shirt with It Is What It Is screen-printed on the front and a red baseball cap turned backward on his head came out of the house to greet him.
“Hi, Mr. Garnier,” the kid said, crossing the veranda and bounding down the steps. He came to a sliding halt at the side of the car, then stood staring at it as if in awe. “Suh-weet.”
“Thanks,” Jake said, chuckling at the way the boy stretched the simple word into two syllables. “And you are?”
“Daily.” He grinned. “My dad was a horse trainer before he died and talked my mom into naming me after the Daily Double at Churchill Downs.” He reverently circled the car. “Dude, I have got to get me a ride like this when I get old.”
Jake realized that the kid was talking to himself and meant no disrespect. But the comment reminded him that within a few short weeks he’d mark his thirty-seventh year and he supposed that in the eyes of a young teenager, he was probably considered a fossil.
Smiling, Jake reached into the trunk for the suitcase he’d packed for his short stay at Hickory Hills. But Daily jumped forward to grab the handle.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Garnier. I didn’t mean to get so carried away looking at your car.” He hoisted the suitcase out of the trunk. “My grandma sent me out to get your luggage and take it upstairs for you.”
“You’re Mrs. Buchanan’s grandson?” Jake asked, following Daily up the steps of the veranda.
The boy nodded. “Grandma’s in charge of the house and Heather is in charge of everything else.” Daily’s youthful face suddenly split into a wide grin. “Wait until you meet Heather. For an older chick, she’s way hot. Having her to look at every morning makes my chore of mucking out stalls a lot easier.”
When Emerald and her stoic assistant, Luther Freemont, had met with him to turn over ownership of the farm, they’d informed him that Clara Buchanan was the live-in housekeeper. But they hadn’t said a word about Heather being the farm manager. That just reinforced Jake’s theory that Emerald was definitely up to something. Why else would she mention the name of the housekeeper and leave out all reference to the woman who ran the majority of the farm?
“I’ve met Heather.” The kid couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen years old, but it seemed he already had an appreciative eye for the ladies. “And I agree. She’s very pretty.”
When Daily opened the double doors and stood back, Jake entered the foyer and immediately felt as if he’d taken a step back in time. Decorated with furniture he had no doubt were period antiques, he half expected to see a woman in a wide hoop skirt descend the sweeping circular staircase. Or more likely a Kentucky colonel dressed in a white suit and holding a mint julep come strolling out of the study.
“Grandma told me to take your luggage up to the west wing,” Daily said, walking toward the stairs. “If you want me to, I can show you where your room is, Mr. Garnier.”
“Lead the way.” When they reached the top of the staircase, Jake grinned. “I’ll bet sliding down a banister like this one is as close to being on a roller coaster as you get without going to an amusement park.”
“Oh,
