only arrived yesterday, and Kane hadn’t wanted him disturbed by a rush of onlookers. The horse needed time to get used to his new digs.
Picking up speed, Kane rounded the corner and made his way toward the noise. The closer he got, the more his calm melted away, because the voice seemed to be coming from the stud’s stall. Singular and soft, it had to be a woman’s. Either she was talking to the horse or some man was getting an earful of sexy whispers.
The stall was about halfway down the aisle, but as Kane approached, something farther down caught his attention. The back door to this wing sat ajar, giving him a glimpse of the black night...and the glint of the stable lights off metal. A truck? A trailer?
Was this woman stealing his horse?
His big body automatically adopted stealth mode, his feet almost silent on the hard-packed earthen floor. He gave the stall door a wide berth, coming around it in the shadows across the aisle so he could see without being seen. As he paused, a sudden awareness of the pumping of his heart and an intense curiosity flooded over him.
He wasn’t bored now.
Over the half wall, Kane could see the massive stallion standing unusually still, almost as if mesmerized by the woman’s voice. She spoke continuously as she worked—from what Kane could tell since she faced away from him, she was indeed readying Sun for transport. But the whole time she touched him, steadying him with a firm hand that bespoke familiarity and authority.
She wasn’t dressed to steal a horse. Through the barely open door Kane caught a quick peek of the flat soles of the woman’s sandals. The straps across her feet were bejeweled; he could see them peeking out through the straw. A loose sundress of nondescript gray-blue material skimmed her lightly muscled body instead of hugging her curves.
Her back was to him, but from what he could tell, she was pretty but not flashy. She certainly hadn’t caught his attention earlier tonight. If she’d been present at the party—as the dress suggested—he couldn’t remember her. And he had a feeling he would have remembered the wealth of caramel-colored hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. He wanted to see what her face looked like, but first, he needed to know what she was up to.
Many people didn’t realize that behind his stoic exterior, Kane was an exceedingly patient man. He stood for a good ten minutes in silence, cataloging the woman’s movements and actions, guessing at her intentions. She had an incredible talent for soothing the giant horse they’d nicknamed the Beast, but the breakaway-style halter, blanket and leg wraps on the animal left no doubt that she planned to leave here with his horse.
As if the truck and trailer didn’t make that plain enough.
As she finished the last of her preparations, Kane decided it was time to make his move. Stepping out of the shadows, he moved to block the open stall door. The Beast caught sight of him first, lifting his head with a little jerk that conveyed his uneasiness at Kane’s appearance.
The little thief didn’t catch on as quickly. She placed her palm flat on the horse’s neck and spoke to him in a low voice. He whinnied, seeming to nod, though Kane wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or to warn her of his presence. Without a sound, Kane leaned against the door frame and let his sternest stable-manager voice boom out into the silence.
“What have we here?”
* * *
The voice jolted Presley’s system. She’d been so caught up in Sun that she’d forgotten the threat posed by the Harringtons. One look over her shoulder told her she’d been caught by one of the actual brothers rather than a stable hand.
Remembering the papers in her pocket, she raised her chin and turned to face him fully. “I’m Presley Macarthur. And you are?”
She already knew. After all, Kane Harrington had made the social pages a few times already, though his brother, Mason, had appeared many more times...and would probably garner a precious full-page spread after today’s announcement of his engagement to EvaMarie Hyatt.
She could recite the entire story of the stable hand brothers who had moved away from here after their jockey father had been blackballed, only to move back last year after inheriting a huge sum of money upon their father’s death. They were set to make a big splash in the horse racing world.
The giant of a man loomed in the doorway, letting the silence stretch, but she refused to give in with a rambling explanation of what she was doing here. That would only make him think he had power—which he didn’t in this situation.
Pushing away from the door frame, Kane stalked closer. “I would think, since you’re in my barn, stealing my horse, that you would know who I am.”
A sudden return of the heated anger and embarrassment Presley had felt when her stepmother had told her what she’d done with Sun had Presley’s sight dimming momentarily. “Actually, I’m not stealing anything. I’m simply collecting what’s rightfully mine.”
“I don’t think so, little girl,” Kane said, his chuckle skating over her nerves in an unfamiliar way. There was an undercurrent signaling more to his attitude than mere disdain. A whole lot more she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Kane went on, “You see, I have the paperwork that shows I bought this horse, fair and square.”
Presley felt Sun shift his big body next to her, as if sensing the gist of the conversation. She rested her palm against his withers. “Fair? Are you sure about that?” she asked.
Kane’s only response was to lift a darkly arched brow. Her stomach dropped, but she kept her expression as blank as possible. The intimidation she felt in the face of his stoic self-assurance was new to her. She’d been dealing with men—and their attitudes when they realized a woman was in charge—for many years now. Fear was foreign to her in a business setting. Yet this man evoked it with a simple look.
Not good.
She swallowed hard, but the fear got the better of her. “If those papers don’t list the seller as Presley Macarthur, then I’m afraid you’ve bought this horse illegally.”
Yikes. Presley immediately wished the words back. That wasn’t the tack she’d meant to take. All the calm preparation she’d done before coming here was flying out the window. “What I mean is, there seems to have been a misunderstanding—”
“I’d say so. Because I bought this horse from the home farm run by the late Mr. Macarthur’s widow, Marjorie.”
While I was out of town on a consult...
“I’m sure you did, Mr. Harrington.” Boy, that name was hard to force out from her constricted throat. “But it’s a matter of public record that Sun is owned by me, Mr. Macarthur’s only daughter. Not his widow.” She smiled as sweetly as she could fake. “Though we do own the business jointly, so I can see where such a misunderstanding could occur.”
The sudden brooding look he shot her made her want to stammer, but she fought for control. Reaching into the side pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a copy of her ownership papers. “If you need proof, I have it right here.”
To her consternation, he stalked forward. Though she knew he was coming for the papers, her heart sped up and her palms grew damp. Once more she knew it wasn’t all from the stress of this situation. This felt...personal. His long fingers brushed over hers as he took the pages, and a hot flush spread like wildfire through
