Читать книгу Million Dollar Stud - Meg Lacey - Страница 10

REMEMBER YOU’RE Rick Darcy. Nobody important, just everyday, ordinary Rick Darcy. So don’t forget and do something dumb. With that thought planted firmly in his mind, Darcy took a deep breath and knocked on the screen door of the Braybourne home at exactly 6:55 p.m.

It would be so easy to slip, as he had earlier with Tater. Then he’d either be out on his ear, or treated with the same wary deference most people used when they knew his background. All of a sudden it was vital that he remain here. It didn’t really have a damn thing to do with Silver Braybourne, nothing at all. He didn’t want to examine that possibility too closely, though.

“Well, hello. You must be Darcy.” From inside the dim hallway, a soft feminine drawl got his attention. A moment later the door was pushed open by a warmly smiling woman. “Welcome. I’m so glad to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you already.”

“Uh-oh, that could be good or bad depending on who was doing the telling.”

“Not at all. I’m Agatha Braybourne, by the way. Most people call me Aggie. It’s not such a mouthful.”

Caught by her tangible Southern charm, Darcy smiled back. He took the small nosegay of flowers he’d been holding behind his back and presented them to her. “Delighted, ma’am.”

Aggie accepted the bright blooms, and her smile expanded as she stepped back to let him into the house. “Isn’t this lovely of you. Will you just look at what this young man has brought me, Silver?”

Darcy watched as Silver strolled up the hallway. She looked different now, more casual, her suit, heels and pearls replaced by sage-green slacks and a sleeveless cotton sweater. She still looked cool and delicious to Darcy’s hungry eyes. “Hello, again,” he murmured.

Her eyes glinted as she glanced from the nosegay in her mother’s hand to him. “Flowers?”

“It was nice of him to think of me, don’t you agree, Silver?”

“Very nice, Mama.”

“Why don’t you show Darcy into the dining room? I’ll put these in water, then round up your father and we’ll be ready to eat.” Aggie bustled away, pausing at the kitchen door to say, “I hope you like Southern fried chicken, Darcy.”

“I love it.”

“Those flowers seem a bit familiar.”

Darcy slipped Silver a sideways glance. “How so?”

“They remind me of the ones growing in the flower patch alongside the stables.”

Darcy grinned. “Really? Fancy that.”

“What an unbelievably cheesy thing to do—pick flowers just so you could charm your way into my mother’s good graces.”

“Surely you’re underestimating your mother. I think it would take more than a few flowers.”

Silver glared at him. “Just so you remember that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t call me ma’am.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Of all the annoying…” Silver turned on her heel, still muttering under her breath as she led the way through a wide archway off to the left. “Come on, dinner’s on the table.”

Darcy grinned and followed Silver into a spacious airy room with large windows that overlooked a beautiful backyard garden. He was surprised to see a number of pricey antiques, from the cherry table and chairs to the sideboard covered with old silver. Whatever money problems the Braybournes might have at the moment, clearly that hadn’t always been the case.

Harden entered just then and sat at the head of the table, his posture as erect and proud as Darcy’s own father’s would be in the same situation. His wife took a seat at the other end, directly across from him. The familiarity of the scene gave Darcy a shock for a moment. He nodded in Harden’s direction. “Sir.”

Harden inclined his head and waved his hand toward a chair. “Sit down there, boy. Sit down.”

Darcy waited and held a chair for Silver, then took his own. He gave the laden table an appreciative glance. “This looks delicious.”

“I’m glad,” Aggie said. “Harden, you’ll say grace, won’t you?” After the brief blessing, obviously not one of Harden’s talents, Aggie smiled and picked up a platter of fried chicken and passed it to Darcy. “Now we won’t stand on ceremony. You just dig in and help yourself.”

The next forty-five minutes were spent in light conversation as they passed chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, homemade jams and biscuits around the table. Darcy couldn’t remember when a meal had tasted so good. Finally, the table was cleared, and Aggie brought in a cream pie topped with curls of chocolate. Silver followed with an antique silver coffeepot. To Darcy’s great appreciation, Aggie placed a huge slice of the pie in front of him, while Silver poured a cup of strong, rich coffee into his china cup.

Darcy gave the dessert an appreciative look before sliding his fork through the mound of whipped cream and into the dark chocolate pudding beneath. After tasting a bite, he nearly rolled his eyes with pleasure. “Damn—Excuse me, this is delicious, Mrs. Braybourne.”

“Aggie.”

“Aggie.”

“Well, I wish I could accept the compliment, Darcy, but I didn’t make it. Silver did. It’s her special recipe.”

“A special recipe?”

“I call it Braybourne Bourbon Pie.”

Darcy licked his lips. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve tasted the—” He caught himself before he told her about the various chefs who’d worked for him over the years. “I mean, it’s absolutely delicious.”

“Why do you look so surprised?” Silver demanded. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent cook.”

“Yes,” Harden said, with a proud smile. “My Silver will make some man a very good wife.”

“Daddy…” Silver said warningly.

“And I know just the man.”

“Daddy, please don’t—”

“He’s itching like a racehorse at the gate.”

“Harden.” Aggie’s smooth voice broke in. “Stop teasing Silver in front of Darcy.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” Harden blustered.

Silver was unable to hold back any longer. “Well, you should have been.”

Darcy cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’ve been admiring your garden, Aggie. My mother would be so envious she’d be asking for cuttings.”

Aggie beamed at the compliment. “You know, Darcy, I’ve been working on that garden out there ever since I came here as a bride.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Silver, why don’t you take Darcy outside and show it off for me.”

“What? No.” She shook her head and her mother looked surprised. “I’d rather not.”

“Sylvia,” Harden boomed, “don’t speak back to your mother like that.”

“Excuse me, Mama,” Silver said automatically. Then she set her jaw, sending her father a lightning-bolt stare. “Really, Daddy, there’s no need to—”

Aggie started to interrupt, but Darcy stood up instead and got everyone’s attention. He was anxious to escape an uncomfortable situation—and afraid he’d accidentally stick his foot in his mouth again. It had been hard enough watching every word as it was. “I’d really like to see the flowers, Silver, if you wouldn’t mind. Maybe walk off your pie a bit before I turn in.”

Silver hesitated for a moment, then pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. “If you’d like.” Darcy fought back a grin. The resignation in her voice would have done justice to an aristocrat on the way to the guillotine. He followed her through the archway and into the hall, admiring her fluid stride as she led the way out of the house, onto the front porch and around to the side garden.

Silver stopped, waving her arm. “This is the garden.”

Darcy chuckled. “So I see.”

Dusk was falling, and the garden glowed with serenity as it waited for night. All around were the sounds of chirping crickets and the low guttural cry of frogs in the nearby ponds. Darcy could feel the peace seeping into him. It was the same sense he remembered as a child strolling with his grandfather over the fields and through the woods of Virginia. He really missed his grandfather.

Sighing, Darcy strolled over to a stone bench and sat down. He patted the seat, inviting Silver to sit next to him. When she didn’t move, he added an incentive. “Afraid?”

Silver stalked over and plunked herself down. “Of you? Hardly.”

“I thought I might make you nervous, is all.”

“Why would you think that?”

Placing his hand on her bare arm, Darcy gently slid his fingers down until they reached the back of her hand. He hid his satisfaction when she jumped, then shivered. “No reason.” As she snatched her hand away, he changed the subject. “What type of flowers are these around the bench here?”

Silver looked up. “I’m not sure. My mother is the gardener, not me.”

“You sure do make great desserts, though.” He needed her to look at him, to reassure himself that she was really as affected by him as he thought, regardless of her attempts to prove otherwise. The truth was always in the eyes, or so books said.

She glanced at him. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”

Her light green gaze seemed darker and more mysterious, or was that just a trick of the fading light? He lowered his voice. “I like a lot about Braybourne Farm.”

Her bottom lip trembled slightly. “Like what?”

“Oh, the location, and the opportunity, and the people…” His finger touched her mouth and moved slowly over her bottom lip until he reached the corner. “You have a pie crumb right here.” He plucked the bit of crust onto his finger, then put his fingertip to his mouth. “Umm, even the leftovers are delicious.”

Silver exhaled. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but—”

“I’m not up to anything, except I’m a man, you’re a woman, it’s a beautiful night….”

“Let’s clear this up right now. I’m not interested in a relationship with you or anyone else.”

He leaned forward. “I’ll bet I can change your mind.”

Silver tried to annihilate him with a look, but her gaze wouldn’t cooperate. Instead there was a hint of longing, overlaid with an edge of excitement. “Oh, now you’ve decided to bet on changing my mind?”

“I like to gamble now and then. What about you?”

“I like to bet on winning propositions.”

Darcy chuckled. “Me, too. That’s why I offered it.”

She gave a flirtatious look, one so instinctively female that Darcy could swear she was unaware she was doing it. “Okay. Say it again.”

“I’ll bet I can change your mind about getting involved with a man.”

Her lashes swept down, then lifted as she smiled, the provocative pout making Darcy itch to possess her. “Not possible.”

“Is that a challenge? I can’t resist a challenge.”

“That wasn’t a challenge.”

Darcy grinned, leaning forward to drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. “No? Who’re you trying to convince? You or me?”

“Getting involved with people you work with can be messy.”

Darcy laughed. “But it could be fun. Don’t forget about fun.”

Her mouth firmed. “There’s more to life than fun, Darcy.”

“Like what?”

“Like love and honor and—”

“Who’s talking about love? I’m just talking about a way for two healthy adults to have a good time for a little while. After all, you said it yourself—I’ll be moving on at some point.”

“That’s the plan.”

“So?”

She shrugged. “So that’s an even better reason not to get involved with you. You don’t have any staying power.”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

Silver shrugged again. “I don’t know. It’s a real Catch-22, isn’t it?”

Darcy drew back and winked. “Don’t worry, Silver. I’m very good at finding my way around obstacles. Especially when the reward is something I want.”

“Set your sights on something else. The only thing I want is to train a championship horse and start winning races.”

Darcy smiled and took the plunge. There was something about this woman that brought out his competitive spirit. “I’ll bet I can help you with that, too.” He’d never done the hands-on training, but one of the top experts in the country worked at his family’s Virginia farm. If needed, he’d call him up and quiz him.

Silver hesitated for a moment before meeting Darcy’s gaze with a cautious one of her own. “That’s a bet I might consider taking you up on. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“I have an idea. If I help you with one, then we automatically put the other to a test, too.” He put every bit of arrogance he could muster into his challenge, positive she had too much spirit not to jump at it, if for no other reason than to take him down a few notches.

Silver stared long and hard. Finally, she nodded and extended her hand. “Let’s see what you’re made of, Rick Darcy.”

Darcy rose from the bench and bent low to capture her hand in his. Jolted at the contact, he impulsively brought her hand to his lips, turning the palm over to press a kiss in the center. Just a quick taste, he promised himself. His lips touched her briefly with a feather-light touch. It wasn’t enough. He looked up at her and was lost as he met the challenging amusement in her eyes. He’d show her. Stepping closer, he dipped his head and licked her bottom lip, her taste melting on his lips like sweet meringue.

“Oh.” Her moan was all he needed to tell him he was on the right track. He licked her top lip, thrilling when she opened her mouth to allow him access. He deepened the kiss as he pushed aside the fabric of her top to caress her shoulder. Her skin had the smoothness of rich cream. He followed this first caress with his lips, working his way toward the tender hollow at the base of her neck. Her head tilted back and she arched into his embrace, her full breasts pressing forward.

He grabbed her waist, lifting her from the bench, pulling her against him. Her hands slipped around his neck, and a small cry of anticipated pleasure escaped her lips. He breathed in the smell of her, spicy perfume mixed with sexual arousal. Her scent surrounded him, invaded him, and he realized he was starving. His lips sought hers again as his hands moved up her body.