Читать книгу Something to Talk About - Joanne Rock - Страница 11

Crap.

Robbie might have turned around before he got to the door of the main house if it hadn’t been for his memory of Kiefer’s face today. He knew what it was like to want to fit in so badly—a feeling he’d wrestled with where his brothers were concerned all his life. But he hadn’t expected to show up at the house while his family was entertaining. The cars in the driveway could have been the showroom for a high-end dealership or the VIP parking lot at Saratoga or Keeneland. His parents’ friends tended to be as wealthy as they were and could afford horses even more expensive than their cars—and that was saying something.

“Mister Robbie, we’ve been hoping you would join us.” Betsy Fuller, the Prestons’ household manager, held the door of the sprawling redbrick house wide, her simple dress more that of a maid than of a woman earning the fat salary Robbie knew she collected for running a property bigger than some country clubs.

It was part of Betsy’s charm that she’d never commented on family politics or Robbie’s long absences. She had open arms and extra place settings for anyone who showed up on the doorstep and it was one of the many reasons everyone adored her.

“I didn’t know they were entertaining tonight or I wouldn’t have shown up in work clothes.” Beyond Betsy, Robbie could see the candles lit throughout the downstairs, giving the place a festive look despite the heavy dark wood of the moldings and banisters, the rich burgundies and reds of the upholstered furniture. He knew all the guests would be out having cocktails on the veranda before dinner and he planned to make sure he avoided the family at all costs.

“If you hurry, you can change before they sit down.” She checked her watch to make sure and then winked at him. “I can usually talk Judge Parker into an extra bourbon before dinner.”

“Thanks, but I can’t stay. I just came to speak to Amanda Emory if she’s here.” He stepped deeper into the front hall, peering around as if she might come into view any second. “Have you met the new office manager?”

“Of course I have.” Betsy appeared mightily offended at the idea that she would ever be unaware of family business. “She’s out back with the family for cocktails, son. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed?”

Robbie had left some clothes here when he’d moved out earlier in the week, so technically, he could make an appearance. But damn it, he wasn’t going to play the family game of pretending he belonged here when they’d made it all too clear to him that he wasn’t good enough to take on a big role at Quest.

“No thanks.” He shook his head, regretting more than anything that he had to disappoint Betsy. She’d never treated him any differently than anyone else in the family. “Would you mind just letting her know that I’m here if I promise to have her back before you move into the dining room?”

If Betsy had an opinion on that, she kept it to herself, settling for a quick nod.

“I’ll pass along the message.”

She hurried off through the house while Robbie waited out front, the strains of a violin mingling with laughter from the veranda. His eyes went to the portraits of horses lining the walls. In other rooms, there were photographs and paintings of people. But here in the foyer there were horses dating back to Hugh Preston’s earliest days at Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens where he’d first studied horses and made his earliest bets. There was a photo of Hugh with Clare’s Quest, the little filly who’d brought his first big win.

Marching across the hunter-green walls were paintings of Old Barley, the stallion that had given Hugh a win at Saratoga to finance the family’s move to Kentucky, followed by more horses that had all added to a family fortune spread across two continents. There weren’t many portraits of horses from Robbie’s cousins’ farm in Hunter Valley, Australia, but there were a few. He looked at them now instead of thinking about Amanda Emory’s potential reaction to his visit.

“Robbie?”

Her voice surprised him, even though he’d been expecting her.

He turned to find a far more sophisticated woman than he remembered. Her pretty dark hair and eyes were the same, but the outfit she wore… Damn it, he had no business taking in the soft curves of her slender frame, but the simple strapless blue cocktail dress she wore seemed to demand it. She’d thrown a yellow lace shawl around her shoulders, but it didn’t hide much of anything. Another hint of lace peeked out below the dress’s knee-length hem, accentuating her legs and drawing his gaze much too low.

Hell.

“Sorry to take you away from the group.” He launched into conversation to recover from the awkward moment. “I won’t keep you.”

He waited for her to run away from him, as she had that day by the practice yard, or to come up with some excuse why she couldn’t speak to him, since he supposed she’d been influenced by popular opinion regarding his character. Instead, she smiled warmly, the way he remembered from the first time he’d seen her.

“Actually, I’m really glad to see you.”

He wondered if his eyes widened as much as he felt they did.

Probably they did, since she laughed.

“I mean it. And I’m sorry if I seemed short with you the day we met, but it’s stressful starting a new job and I worried about taking time away to oversee Kiefer.”

She smelled delicious—like flowers and maybe vanilla. He wanted to lean in for a more definitive sniff.

“He’s a great kid.” He wanted to make it clear that he didn’t mind Kiefer’s presence around the stables.

And he definitely wanted to remember why he was here since it didn’t have anything to do with ogling a woman he had no business pursuing.

“Thank you.” She smiled with maternal pleasure and managed to look even more beautiful than she had two minutes ago. “I’m very proud of both my boys but sometimes it’s hard to step back from the day-in and day-out worries to appreciate how really great they are. I’m fortunate.”

“You have two sons?” Robbie knew Kiefer hadn’t mentioned a brother, but the boy had been fairly wrapped up in learning about horses all week.

“Max is six and Kiefer is nine. And actually, I’ve been meaning to seek you out to thank you for the time you’ve spent with Kiefer this week. He feels more sure of himself at school now that he can talk about horses without sounding like a total outsider.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Robbie lowered his voice as one of the maids hurried through the foyer with a vase of flowers. No doubt they were trying to get the dining room prepped for the meal. The laughter of the cocktail crowd drifted through the halls.

“He’s starting to get underfoot? I can—”

“No. Nothing like that.” He put a hand on top of her fluttering one, a reflex reaction to her concern that suddenly drop-kicked him in the libido. The feel of her soft skin under his palm sent a surge of heat clean through him, the awareness a palpable thing between them.

She stilled, frozen, her hand in midair beneath his. He would have moved away faster if he could have sent the proper set of messages along his neurons, but his body didn’t seem to obey. He stood there for a long moment, absorbing the silken texture of her and breathing her scent.

She recovered first, snatching her hand away quickly even if the reaction had been delayed.

“Then what is it?” Her words were a little breathless, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

“Kiefer wants to learn how to ride.” He was grateful for the words once he got them past his lips. They gave him something new to think about.

“I know he does, but honestly, I can’t afford—”

“Amanda, you haven’t gotten to know the Prestons well enough yet if you think we would want you to pay for outside lessons when you work at the biggest horse-training facility in the Commonwealth of Kentucky.”

“Really, I couldn’t ask for any special favors.” Her words were firm, her posture perfectly straight. She had “good girl” written on her so clearly he couldn’t help but smile, although he didn’t find her ethics half so amusing as he found his attraction to someone so sweetly upstanding. His sketchy track record with women ran more to the hell-raising variety, but there was no denying his physical response to Amanda.

“It’s not a special favor.” He gestured to the house behind her. “You’re already standing in my mother’s foyer, having cocktails with the neighbors. Trust me when I tell you, we want you to feel like family here.” He might not agree with all the family’s decisions, but Robbie was proud of the way they treated their staff. The corporate culture was decidedly down-home here. “And I just wanted your blessing that Kiefer has permission to ride before I let him on a horse. But I hope you’d never consider outsourcing riding lessons when you live here. We tend to know our horses around Quest Stables.”

She grinned. “I guess you have a point there.”

“As long as you don’t mind, I can send Kiefer back to school with enough horse knowledge to set the other kids back a few steps.” His knowledge might not impress the old man, but it could knock the socks off fourth graders.

“That would be really generous of you.” She pulled the thin lace shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the fabric hard as if she could ward off the attraction zinging around the room. “But if he gets to be any trouble, I hope you’ll let me know.”

“I can do that. Although the traditional way to straighten out any troublemaking in a stable is to present the offender with a pitchfork and a stall for mucking.”

“I see you know kids better than I realized.”

“I’ve had a bit of a history with troublemaking myself.”

“And your days with a pitchfork successfully reformed you?”

“I’m going to have to plead the Fifth on that one.”

Behind Amanda, the voices from the veranda grew louder as two men disputed the racing odds at an upcoming meet. A door slammed and the violin stopped playing.

“They must be coming in for dinner.” Amanda turned toward the sound before glancing back at him. “I’m not staying for the meal, but I should go in and make my goodbyes before they sit down.”

He nodded, not wanting to cross paths with his family yet.

“Fine. I’ll wait for you and walk you to your car.” He didn’t know why he offered.

No, he knew why he offered. He wished he had a little more restraint since she was clearly reluctant where he was concerned.

“That’s not necessary. Thank you for the offer of lessons for Kiefer.” She stepped away, eager to please his parents and play the proper guest.

“Not a problem.” He smiled genially, but stood his ground and waited for her return.

She might think they had settled matters between them now that they’d agreed on Kiefer riding. But in Robbie’s mind, they’d only succeeded in uncovering a bigger issue. And like any elephant in a room, the attraction between them wouldn’t go away just because they ignored it.

These had to be some of the warmest people Amanda had ever met.

She shook hands with several of the Prestons’ friends and said her goodbyes, surprised to feel such easy acceptance after a short amount of time at Quest Stables. The unquestioning welcome, the gracious attempts to make her feel at home, helped ease the transition from her friends and family back in L.A.

As she walked toward the foyer and the front door to leave for the night, she realized that if she wasn’t so scared of the past following her, she would be throwing herself into her new life. She might even have explored the source of that steady regard in Robbie Preston’s eyes every time she was around….

But that was foolish.

As her high heels clicked down the polished hardwood, she chided herself for thinking like that about a man who was not only a decade younger than her but also her employer’s son. And besides that, since when did she think about the “regard” in any man’s eyes? She’d barely looked at a carrier of the Y chromosome since—

“I tried to leave,” Robbie announced, his long, lean frame unfolding from where he’d been sitting on a chair in the foyer. “But with the sun setting earlier and you being new in town, I couldn’t let you navigate your way to your car on your own.”

Shrugging, he offered her his arm and she stared at it for a moment, knowing this contact with him could be dangerous.

Then she gave herself a mental shake. Dangerous for her maybe. A gorgeous, wealthy male like Robbie Preston surely didn’t feel the same pulse of awareness when they were together that she did. He probably had women falling all over themselves to give him a lot more than a little company for a stroll across the grass.

She was being silly.

Reaching out to him, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

“Is this part of that legendary Southern hospitality I’ve heard so much about?” She kept her tone light, reminding herself that he probably viewed her as nothing more than a nice older woman. A mother. An employee.

He held the door for her and they stepped out onto the wide front porch. The stars were popping out as the cooler air greeted them. She pulled her shawl closer and warded off a sudden shiver.

“Actually, there are plenty of people who would argue that Kentucky isn’t part of either the south or the north.” He slowed his pace as she prepared to step down onto the front walk. “Southerners think this is the north and Northerners consider this the south, so we’re in the unique position of not being claimed by either one.”

Her heel hitched on a high spot as they stepped out onto the grass and she had no choice but to squeeze his arm to steady herself. Just for a moment.

Solid muscle lurked beneath his soft chambray work shirt. And yes, she only noticed that as a matter of curiosity. Robbie was a handsome man with a compelling presence and powerful physique—all things that any woman would notice, she hoped.

Then again, perhaps the cocktail she’d had with Jenna Preston’s friends accounted for a hyper awareness that felt both embarrassing and uncomfortable.

“Well maybe it’s not a north-south issue, but a Kentucky trait. I’ve been the recipient of amazing kindness since I moved here.” She peered around the lawn looking for her car. There were many more people parked along either side of the driveway than when she’d first arrived.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Robbie pointed out her compact car parked behind an exotic foreign number. “Is this you over here?”

“Is it that easy to pick out the hired help’s cars?” She was definitely out of her element here. Although she’d been pleased enough with the outfit she’d pulled together from her closet tonight, she knew a converted bridesmaid’s dress and a bargain warehouse lace shawl didn’t give her the same style points as the women who moved in the racing world. At least she wore the same size she had in college and she favored classic pieces, so she had a few old dresses in her wardrobe.

The dresses she’d seen on guests tonight had been the kind women ordered off runways or—at the very least—snapped up in tony boutiques.

Robbie paused to peer down at her in the night now gone almost fully dark.

“I remembered seeing a car like this with California plates, so I figured it must belong to our only west-coast transplant.” His forehead scrunched and she realized he was disappointed or perhaps upset that she had misinterpreted his words. “And I want you to know that an abundance of money has never been an indicator of anyone’s character in my eyes.”

His words soothed her even if she didn’t want to admit she’d been a smidge intimidated tonight.

“Of course.” She nodded quickly, all too aware of his presence beneath the rising luminescent moon. With the cool night air blowing around her skirt hem and brushing her shawl along her arms like a lover’s fingers, she could almost get caught up in a moment she had no business being in. And sweet stars in heaven, what was the matter with her? “I couldn’t help but notice every car but mine cost more than my last house. I hadn’t counted on so much…glamour when I came to work at a Kentucky horse farm. It doesn’t sound like such a sophisticated job on paper, but now that I’m here, I can’t help but see a really different lifestyle than what I’d expected.”

She released his arm, determined to extricate herself from whatever moonlight madness had taken hold of her tonight. Pulling the shawl tighter around her shoulders, she moved toward the car.

“Amanda?”

His voice halted her, the smoky warmth of it sliding down her spine and making her shiver.

If she didn’t work for him—for his family—she would have damned the consequences of being rude and simply hurried away. She prayed the feelings he stirred up tonight were merely a weird by-product of all the changes in her life, the new faces and places, and being caught up in an evening where she was just a woman and not a mother. Her dress made her feel vulnerable, too aware of herself in a way that her chinos and polo shirts never did.

And what if this attraction was all one-sided? Maybe she imagined the response she felt in him. For all she knew, he could be silently laughing at her—or be totally shocked—because of their age difference.

Pausing, she dug for her keys in a tiny evening bag and waited for him to speak, her heels sinking into the soft bluegrass the longer she stood still. Would she sink into this place—this lifestyle—just as surely?

The Prestons’ home glittered with lights as it sprawled across the lawn behind Robbie, and Amanda suspected it would be all too easy to find new happiness here. If only she didn’t have to worry about bringing trouble with her wherever she went.

“If you need any help settling in, I wish you’d give me a call.” His dark-blue eyes held hers in the moonlight—and damn it, why did she have to remember his eyes were the exact shade of the Pacific right before a storm blew in?

Giving into a childish impulse, she squeezed her eyes tight for a moment to break the connection. Or maybe she needed to shut out the dark charm of this charismatic horse trainer who’d already won over her son.

Wrenching open her lids, she forced herself to smile. Nod. Tug her heels out of the earth so she could back up another step.

“Thank you, Robbie.” His name felt too personal as she wrapped her lips around the word. “We’re already feeling at home here, but I appreciate that.”

Fumbling with her keys, she found the right one and inserted it into the lock.

“Thanks for letting me work with Kiefer on his riding. He’s a great kid.”

Amanda’s maternal heart glowed with the small stroke of praise even as she hoped he wouldn’t say more. It was bad enough she already felt an uneasy feminine response to this man. If he could appeal to the more fierce side of her—her motherly sensibilities—she’d be toast.

“It’s me who should be grateful.” One more nod. Smile. She sank into the driver’s seat and lifted a cheery wave. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

He probably returned the nicety, but Amanda lost herself in a whirlwind of activity inside the car. She shut the door, jangled her keys into place in the ignition and turned the engine over. She had mirrors to check and windows to look out—so long as all her focus was on backing up and not on backing away from Robbie Preston. Only when she was safely out on the driveway and ready to take off did she brave a quick glance at the man who had her wound so tight.

Sure enough his eyes were on her.

And just like that a jolt of pure, unadulterated feminine pleasure pulsed through her veins, making her feel more alive than she had in…a long time. Heaven help her.

Within the next second, she made the decision to stay as far away from Robbie Preston as possible.