Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Reining In The Billionaire

Reining In The Billionaire
Dani Wade


An instant billionaire wants revenge…and more! Mason Harrington grew up as a rough-and-tumble stable boy. But a shocking inheritance enables him and his brother to return to their hometown and settle some scores. First on the agenda: take over the elite horse farm belonging to the woman who once broke Mason's heart when her daddy said he wasn't good enough.Despite Mason's motives, EvaMarie Hyatt has no choice but to stay on at the ranch and work for him. Soon it becomes clear Mason wants more than revenge. Even more surprising: EvaMarie's willingness to succumb. But will new misunderstandings derail their renewed passion, or will this second chance lead to forever?







An instant billionaire wants revenge...and more!

Mason Harrington grew up as a rough-and-tumble stable boy. But a shocking inheritance enables him and his brother to return to their hometown and settle some scores. First on the agenda: take over the elite horse farm belonging to the woman who once broke Mason’s heart when her daddy said he wasn’t good enough.

Despite Mason’s motives, EvaMarie Hyatt has no choice but to stay on at the ranch and work for him. Soon it becomes clear Mason wants more than revenge. Even more surprising: EvaMarie’s willingness to succumb. But will new misunderstandings derail their renewed passion, or will this second chance lead to forever?


As he came closer, the realization struck her like lightning.

She hadn’t seen Mason Harrington in almost fifteen years. Oh, she’d wondered about him almost every day. But she’d refused to let her curiosity turn into anything more. After all, she imagined she was the last person Mason ever wanted to contact him.

It looked like the years had been good to him. Even at this distance, she could spot the telltale features she’d found so attractive: the dark blond hair cropped close at the sides but leaving just enough length on the top to showcase its inherent wave; large hands rough from working but with long fingers that could play her like the most delicate of strings; the square shape of his jaw that belied the soft curve of his full bottom lip.

He was even taller now, filled out and muscular in a way that made her uncomfortably aware of him. As did the piercing blue gaze that found her with unerring accuracy. But it was the signature black cowboy hat that he swung up onto his head that was the nail in her coffin, confirming that she faced the boy she had wronged.

And now he was every inch a man.


Dear Reader (#ulink_85b8f683-a307-5d6f-85b6-faca93064ab2),

I grew up on a farm and had a horse as a teenager (along with goats, cows, chickens and various house pets). Nothing on the scale of my Desire characters, but there was a certain peacefulness in being out in nature that much, a certain connection that can only be felt when caring for an animal’s very existence. The circle of life as you attend births, nurse them through illnesses, watch out the window as they play and bury them with lots of tears. It’s a very different life from my current suburban one.

That’s why I’m excited to visit horse-racing country with the Harrington brothers! These men know the land, the animals, and the women who can give them exactly what they (think!) they want. Too bad for them love doesn’t always play fair...

I love to hear from my readers! You can email me at readdaniwade@gmail.com or follow me on Facebook. As always, news about my releases is easiest to find through my author newsletter, which you can sign up for through my website at www.daniwade.com (http://www.daniwade.com).

Enjoy!

Dani


Reining in the Billionaire

Dani Wade






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


DANI WADE astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.


I’m very blessed in this life to have a wonderful mother-in-law, who I watch give herself tirelessly to those around her every day. Kay, thank you for all you do for us. These books would not happen without the love, encouragement and sheer physical support you gift to me and our family day after day.

I love you.


Contents

Cover (#u6d3a9d6a-2d33-5cd6-90cc-06c52e4e7a71)

Back Cover Text (#u2dd2df34-1a52-5abe-b510-764a4fa99c64)

Introduction (#uda4a9d4e-7682-55c2-b6ad-c98ebaf0dcce)

Dear Reader (#ulink_3d84e75e-b1a0-5067-86c7-3f3f2a0506a4)

Title Page (#u44009b73-0cba-5f60-aea6-73dfe4c31ede)

About the Author (#ufb351546-c564-5e7d-9e98-0b486966b720)

Dedication (#u7960f34e-e4e7-5109-9b41-fd8c3303c684)

One (#ulink_b0fad698-8e33-5ac9-ac95-311f23246b03)

Two (#ulink_155a4e28-bede-53c2-8e03-fdeb8ecb35ae)

Three (#ulink_19f0ca92-5f1b-535d-be1e-aa828812dbca)

Four (#ulink_7b67c0a0-1f5b-5a51-b309-792f655ff87b)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ulink_aa91af95-bb85-5ff0-9894-df724bc88992)

Finding out that the old Hyatt estate was available for purchase immediately—cash buyers only—had to be the biggest triumph Mason Harrington had ever experienced. After all, how many people got to fulfill their life’s goal of owning a horse farm and get the revenge they’d ached for—all in one unexpectedly easy move?

“The foreclosure was just approved and finalized through our corporate offices,” the bank manager was saying from across the polished expanse of his desk. His worried expression made him look more like a concerned grandfather than a businessman. “The family hasn’t even been notified yet. There simply hasn’t been time—”

“I’ll be happy to handle that part for you,” Mason heard himself say. Oops! Was that too much? From the look on the manager’s face, probably. The nudge from his brother confirmed it.

Mason subtly leaned out of reach from his brother’s sharp elbow, ignoring the creak of his leather chair. Kane might resent Daulton Hyatt for his role in ruining their father’s reputation in this town, but Mason had been at ground zero for the man’s nuclear meltdown.

He’d never forget the humiliation Daulton had dished out with satisfaction...or the pain of having EvaMarie watch without defending him.

If the memories made him a little mouthy...

“I have to say that the foreclosure went through against my wishes. I’d hoped to help EvaMarie turn things around,” the manager said with a frown that deepened the lines on his aged face.

“Why EvaMarie?” Kane asked. “Wouldn’t it be Daulton Hyatt who needed the help?”

The man’s eyes widened a little as he watched them from across the desk. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I didn’t mean to discuss personal details about my customers.” He lowered his gaze to the printed paper before him. Mason had found the foreclosure notice on a local website. The bank hadn’t wasted any time trying to recoup its loss. “But I just don’t feel comfortable—”

“That doesn’t matter now. The bank has already listed the property,” Mason cut in. “Look, we are offering more than the asking price, cash in hand. Do we need to contact someone at the corporate offices ourselves?” Surely they’d be happy to take the Harrington money.

Mason could tell by the look on the manager’s face that he most certainly did not want that to happen. But Mason would if he had to...

“We can have the money transferred here by this afternoon,” Kane added. “Our offer is good for only an hour at that price. Do we have a deal?”

Mason’s body tightened, silently protesting the idea of walking away, but his brother knew exactly what he was doing. Still, the thought of losing this opportunity chafed. The waffling manager was obviously trying to look out for the family, as opposed to the strangers before him, but right now Mason didn’t give a damn about the Hyatts.

He cared only about making them pay for striking out at Mason and his family all those years ago.

He couldn’t help but wonder how EvaMarie would look when he told her to get out of her family home...

Slowly, reluctantly, the older man nodded. “Yes. I guess this really is out of my hands now.” He stood, straightening his suit jacket and tie as if steadying himself for a particularly unpleasant task. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll get my secretary started on the paperwork.”

And he would no doubt call corporate while he went outside the office, Mason suspected, but it wasn’t going to do him any good. What the Harrington brothers wanted, they often got. Usually it was from sheer bullheadedness. This time, though, they had their inheritance to back them up.

Money did open doors, indeed.

Mason still missed his dad, who had passed away about six months ago. It had been just the three of them for most of Mason’s life, and they’d all been really tight. Learning of their father’s cancer had been hard.

But it had only been the first surprise.

The fact that their mother had been the debutante daughter in a very wealthy family in a neighboring state had never been a secret to the boys. She’d died of brain cancer when Mason was around seven. He remembered so little about her, except how good she’d smelled as she cuddled with him and the silky softness of her hair. He would brush it for her sometimes, after she got sick, because it soothed her and often got rid of the headaches she frequently had.

Still, she’d been gone a long time. It had never occurred to either of the boys that she had left something behind for them. Hell—something? This wasn’t just something, it was a fortune. Their father’s careful money management had paid off in big ways, and he’d grown their already substantial inheritance into a monumental sum. Mason couldn’t even think of the money in real dollar amounts, it was so excessive.

After all, sometimes they’d had to scrape the bottom of the barrel growing up. Like when Mason had lost his job at the Hyatt estate. They’d had to move back to his mother’s hometown. Times had already been tough. Little had he and Kane known, their dad had been going without while planning for their future.

And their future was now.

After the secret came out, Mason had asked his father why he hadn’t used some of the money to make life easier for him, for them. He’d said he never wanted to prove their mother’s parents right—they’d always said he’d married her for money.

The brothers had been around horses all their lives. Their father had been a horse trainer with an excellent reputation for creating winners. He’d taught them everything he knew. They’d also both learned a lot from working in some of the best stables in the area, along with raising their own horses and cattle. Now, finally, they had the capital to purchase and establish their very own racing stables.

Oh, and get back at EvaMarie Hyatt for almost ruining his family at the same time.

“That look on your face has me damn worried,” Kane said, studying him hard.

Mason stood, pacing the space that was relatively generous for a bank office but still left Mason feeling cramped. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

“You know Dad wouldn’t want us to get back at the Hyatts for what happened almost fifteen years ago, right?”

It may have been close to fifteen years ago, but to Mason, the wounds and anger were as fresh as yesterday. Kane thought of it as a teenage crush, but Mason knew he had loved EvaMarie with everything he had at the time. Otherwise, it wouldn’t still hurt so damn much.

“Yep, I know.” But he could live with that. Simply seeing the shock on EvaMarie’s face—and that dictator daddy of hers—would be worth a little blackening on his soul.

Right?

“Are you saying you’ve changed your mind?” he asked Kane.

His brother was silent, thinking before he answered. Mason admired that about Kane—it was a trait he lacked. Mason jumped first and worried about the consequences later. But as a team, their differences worked in their favor...mostly.

Kane turned to meet his gaze, his expression harder than before. “Nah. I say, go for it. But just a little warning, Mason—”

Mason groaned. “Aren’t we a little old for you to jump into big brother mode again?”

“I am your big brother, but that’s not it.” He gave Mason a level look. “You need to keep in mind that there might be a good reason that they’ve lost the estate. They may not care what happens to it or who has it. I haven’t heard any rumors about them financially except that they were downsizing a while back.”

He shrugged at Mason’s raised brows. “So I kept tabs. But we’re out of the loop, except for a few old friends.” He shrugged, his suit still looking out of place to Mason. They were used to flannel shirts and sturdy jeans. Dressing up wasn’t the norm...but considering where this inheritance was taking them, they’d better get used to it.

Kane shook his head. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling this isn’t going to play out like you want it to.”

Mason thought back to his awed impression of the Hyatt estate when he was a know-it-all eighteen-year-old. The opulence, the care EvaMarie’s mother had put into every little touch. That house had been her life. Not that Mason had been allowed to see it. Officially, he’d seen it only once. He’d been told to take some papers to Daulton Hyatt at the big house. EvaMarie’s mother had trailed after him, anxious in case he tracked manure on her antique rugs.

As though he was too much of a heathen to know how to wipe his feet. The only other time he’d been inside, there hadn’t been a parent in sight.

“You may be right,” Mason conceded, trying to shake the memories away. “But trust me, they care. I remember that much all too well.” And he was gonna use what he knew about them to his every advantage.

It paid to know thine enemy.

* * *

EvaMarie Hyatt didn’t have a clue who was driving up to the house in a luxury sedan followed by a shiny new pickup truck. But as she spied out her bedroom window on the second floor, she fervently wished that whoever it was would go back from whence they came.

After all, she was sweaty and gross after hanging insulation inside the old dressing room between her suite and the next. Plus, she had a headache pounding hard enough between her temples to rival a jackhammer. And she was the only one here willing to answer the door.

Still, she smiled with the satisfaction of knowing all of her hard work would be perfect for what she had in mind.

But this wasn’t the time for lingering admiration of her handiwork. She had to get herself in gear and head their visitors off at the pass. She scurried down the back stairs, hyperaware of her parents’ location. They’d be interested too, but she knew good and well they wouldn’t come outside.

It was so sad to see her once social butterfly parents now housebound. Their secrecy and embarrassment made EvaMarie’s responsibilities that much harder...and much more painful.

She made it to the side entrance just as the vehicles parked. Unexpected nerves tingled through her as she attempted to smooth her hair into some semblance of order. Maybe her parents were rubbing off on her...or the isolation of taking care of every last detail of their lives was turning her into a hermit.

To her surprise, the bank manager stepped out of the first vehicle, his pristine suit making her all too aware of her dust-covered T-shirt and sweatpants. But it was the driver of the truck who confounded her.

She studied him as the two men approached across the now cracking driveway. He was a stranger, yet familiar for some reason. There was something about the cocky set of his shoulders, the confidence of his stride. As he came closer, the realization struck her like lightning.

She hadn’t seen Mason Harrington in nearly fifteen years. Oh, she’d wondered about him almost every day since then. But she’d refused to let her curiosity turn into anything more. After all, she imagined she was the last person Mason ever wanted to contact him.

It looked like the years had been good to him. Even at this distance, she could spot the telltale features she’d found so attractive: the dark blond hair cropped close at the sides, but leaving just enough length on the top to showcase its inherent wave; large hands rough from working but with long fingers that could play her like the most delicate of instruments; the square shape of his jaw that belied the soft curve of his full bottom lip.

He was even taller now, filled out and muscular in a way that made her uncomfortably aware of him. As did the piercing blue gaze that found her with unerring accuracy. But it was the signature black cowboy hat that he swung up onto his head that was the nail in her coffin, confirming that she faced the boy she had wronged.

And now he was every inch a man.

Mason Harrington was someone she certainly didn’t want near the house...or within miles of her father. Rushing forward despite her nerves clenching her stomach, she ignored the bombshell and focused on the manager. “Clive,” she said, “what can I do for you?”

“EvaMarie, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

She wanted to look at Mason, see if he knew what was going on. Which was silly. Of course he did or he wouldn’t be here. “I thought we had everything straightened out last month?” Oh, goodness. Please let this not be what she feared most.

“Well, I’m afraid corporate overruled us. As I mentioned then, everything has to be approved through them.”

Her breath caught for a moment, then she forced herself to speak. “But I thought you said you knew enough people up there to get them to listen.”

“I know, honey. Apparently I wasn’t quite persuasive enough. I was going to call today, but got—” he glanced at the silent man next to him “—sidetracked.”

EvaMarie hugged herself as her heart pounded in her chest. Nausea washed through her. She’d been alone through a lot of hard times over the past five years, but right now she wondered if there was a person alive who wouldn’t let her down. “What does that mean?”

Mason stepped forward, his boots scraping across the driveway. “It means I’m the new owner of the Hyatt estate.”

His voice had deepened. This was a man speaking. A man taking away what he had to know meant the world to her. She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Turning back to Clive, she struggled not to beg. “I just need a little more time—”

“Too late.”

Mason’s harsh words made her cringe, but she tried to focus only on Clive. Breathlessly she pushed the words out. “But the mares will foal—”

Clive stepped forward, cutting off her view of Mason with a hand on her shoulder. “You know it won’t cover more than a few payments,” he said, his voice low and firm, even though his touch was gentle. “Then you’ll be behind again. You’ve done the best you could, EvaMarie, but we both know you’re only delaying the inevitable. It’s time. Time to let go.”

She shook her head, the words ringing in her ears. Time to admit defeat—to Mason Harrington. Her father would rather die.

For a moment, she almost gave in to the tears that had plagued her for the last six months. She glanced over at the quiet, still barn in the distance. The surrounding lush trees had sheltered her since she’d first walked. The lake in the distance had seen her learn to swim and fish. The rolling hills had been her playground in her youth, her solace as she’d gotten older. Her mind conjured up memories of a time long ago when the picture before her had been bustling with employees, and horses, and visitors.

Not anymore. No matter how hard she tried.

Every time she’d thought she was making progress, yet another setback would stomp on her efforts. But this one was the crowning glory.

Now she zeroed in on Mason, surprised by his smug I won look. Obviously, he could remember a lot about this place, too. Part of her ached that he still hated her enough to find taking her home from her a worthy challenge. But a part that she didn’t want to acknowledge found a tiny bit of solace in the fact that she could still touch him in some way.

She’d never be able to admit all the ways he’d changed her, even after he’d been gone. The thought was enough to have her dragging her stoic expression back into place, covering her true emotions, all of the frustration and pain she’d dealt with since he’d left, since her father became ill.

She felt so alone.

“So when do we have to be out?” she murmured, struggling to be practical. She wouldn’t think right now about how it would feel, leaving the only home she’d ever known. That would lead to the breakdown she wanted to avoid.

Mason stepped fully into view, muscling his way around the bank manager. How he’d heard her, she wasn’t sure. “As soon as possible would be great. You can work that out with Clive here, but first, I’d like to look over my purchase, please.”

If she hadn’t been struggling already, his complete lack of compassion would have taken her breath away. EvaMarie looked at the smug man, seeing again the few traces of the boy she’d loved with all her heart, the boy she’d given her body to, even though she’d known she couldn’t keep him—and wished she had the courage to punch him in the face.


Two (#ulink_dc407a0e-0c6f-570a-9682-51390f373173)

Mason’s crude satisfaction at besting EvaMarie and her family quickly transformed to dismay as he followed her into the house.

Bare. That’s the word that came to mind as he looked around the entryway and beyond. It was like a gorgeous painting stripped of all its details, all the way down to the first broad brushstrokes covering the canvas. The basic structure was still there. The silver-leafed cabinetry, the crystal doorknobs, the delicate ironwork. But a lot of the decorative china and porcelain figures and landscape paintings he remembered from that long ago day had disappeared, leaving behind bare shelves and walls that projected an air of sadness.

They had entered the house through a side door, the same one Mason had been let into fifteen years ago. The long hallway took them past the formal dining room and a parlor, then a couple of now empty rooms until they came to a sunken area facing the back of the house. Apparently the family used this as a cozier living room, if one could call the massive, hand-carved limestone fireplace and equally impressive Oriental carpeting “cozy.”

Upon closer inspection, the once pristine furniture had a few worn corners. But weirdly enough, what impacted Mason the most was the flowers. Not the ones in the overrun garden outside the wall of windows, but the ones in the vase on the table behind the sofa as they entered the room.

He vividly remembered the large sprays of flowers in intricate vases from his first visit, impressed as he had been with their color and beauty. They’d been placed every few feet in the hall and several in each of the rooms he’d glanced into and entered. But this was the first flower vase he’d seen today: a simple cut-glass one. Inside was an arrangement of flowers that looked like they’d been cut from the wild gardens. Pretty, but they were obviously not the designer arrangements of hothouse blooms he remembered.

Boy, the privileged had truly come down in the world.

Glancing over to the couple seated near the fireplace, he recognized EvaMarie’s parents, even though they’d aged. Mrs. Hyatt was dressed for visitors. Mason would expect nothing less, though her silk shirt and carefully quaffed hair denoted a woman who hadn’t faced the reality of her situation.

The pearls were a nice touch though.

“What’s going on?” Daulton asked, his booming voice still carrying enough to echo slightly on the eardrums. “Clive, why are you here?”

The bank manager shook hands with the couple, then stepped back a bit to allow EvaMarie closer. Mason had thought he’d want to see this part, to witness the lowering of the high-and-mighty Hyatts. After all, they’d orchestrated the moment that had brought his own family’s downfall.

Yet somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to close in, to gain an angle that allowed him to see EvaMarie’s face as she gave her family the news that their lives were about to change. Afraid he was softening, he forced himself to stand tall, knees braced for the coming confrontation. He forced himself to remember how his father must have felt that day when he’d had to tell Mason and his brother that he was fired from the position he’d held for ten years at the insistence of Daulton Hyatt.

That hadn’t been pretty either.

“Mom, Dad, um.” EvaMarie’s voice was so soft Mason almost couldn’t hear it. Yet he could feel the vibration in his body. EvaMarie’s voice was unique—even huskier than it had been when she was young. She’d grown into a classic Kathleen Turner voice that Mason was going to completely and totally ignore. “The bank has sold the estate.”

Mrs. Hyatt’s gasp was quickly drowned beneath Daulton’s curse. “How is that possible?” he demanded. “Clive, explain yourself.”

“Daddy, you know how this happened—”

“Nonsense. Clive...”

“Corporate took this account out of our hands, Mr. Hyatt. There’s nothing I can do now.”

“Of course there is. What’s the point of knowing your banker if he can’t help you now and again?”

“Daddy.” At least EvaMarie had enough spirit to sound disapproving. “Clive has gone out of his way to help us on more than one occasion. We have to face that this is happening.”

“Nonsense. I’m not going anywhere.” A noise echoed through the room, like a cane banging on the wooden floor, though Mason couldn’t see for sure. “Besides, who could buy something so expensive that quick?”

Clive turned sideways, giving Daulton a view of Mason where he stood. “This is Mason Harrington from Tennessee. He and his brother started the purchase proceedings this morning.”

“Tennessee?” Daulton squinted in Mason’s direction. Mason could feel his pulse pick up speed. “Why would someone from Tennessee want an estate in Kentucky?”

Rolling with that rush of adrenaline, Mason took a few strides into the center of the room. “I’m looking forward to establishing my own racing stables, and the Hyatt estate is perfect for our purposes, in my opinion.”

Mason could see the realization of who he was as it dawned on Daulton’s face, followed quickly by a thunderous rage. He was proud to see this glorious, momentous thing that Mason himself had ignited.

“I know you,” Daulton growled, leaning forward in his chair despite his wife’s delicate hand on his bicep. “You’re that good-for-nothing stable boy who put your hands on my daughter.”

It was more than just my hands. Maybe he should keep that thought to himself. See, Kane, I do have control. “Actually, I am good for something...as a matter of fact, several...million...somethings...” That little bit of emphasis felt oh, so good. “And I’m no longer just a stable boy.”

Daulton turned his laser look on his daughter, who stepped back as if to hide. “I told you I would never allow a filthy Harrington in one of my beds. I’ll never let that happen.”

“Oh, I don’t need one of your beds,” Mason assured him. “I just bought a nice, expensive one of my own. I’ll just take the room it belongs in.”

“You aren’t getting it from me,” Daulton growled.

This time, Mason matched him tone for tone. “You sure about that?”

The other man’s eyes widened, showing the whites as he processed that this Harrington wasn’t a kid who was gonna meekly take his vitriol. “The likes of you could never handle these stables with success,” he bellowed. “You’ll fold in a year.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But that will be decided by me.” Satisfaction built inside as he said it, and he let a grin slip free. “Not you.”

He could tell by the red washing over Daulton’s face that he got Mason’s drift. The older man started to stand. Mason realized he was gripping the side of his chair with an unusually strong grip.

“Daulton,” his wife whispered in warning.

But the old man was too stirred up to heed her, if he even heard her in the first place. Mason felt his exultation at besting the monster of his dreams drain to dismay as Daulton took a step forward...then collapsed to the floor.

A cry rang out, maybe from EvaMarie’s mom. But everyone rushed forward except Mason, who stood frozen in confusion.

With Clive’s help, the women got Daulton turned over and sitting upright, though he was still on the floor. Mason studied the droop of the man’s head, even as his back remained turned to Mason.

Kneeling next to her father in dusty sweatpants and a T-shirt, hair thrown up into a messy bun, EvaMarie still had the look of a society princess when she glanced over at Mason. Her calm demeanor, cultivated through hours of cotillion classes, couldn’t have been more sphinxlike. “Could you excuse us for a moment, please?” she said quietly. She didn’t plead, but her gaze expected him to do as she asked.

He’d never been able to resist that dark blue, forget-me-not gaze, always so full of suppressed emotions that he wanted to mine.

Then she tilted her head in the direction of the door to the hallway. For once, he didn’t have that unbidden urge to challenge that came over him when he was faced with authority. Especially Hyatt authority. Obviously there was more going on here than he was aware of.

Turning, he let himself back out into the hall, wondering if he’d be able to forget the impression that his brother had been right. This wasn’t going how he pictured it...at all.

* * *

EvaMarie could feel her hands shaking as she finally left behind the drama in the living room to face Mason in the hall. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as the old saying went. Her body felt like she’d been put in a time machine. All the devastating feelings from that long ago confrontation in the barn—the day her teenage world imploded—had come rushing back the minute her father had raised his voice at Mason.

She’d spent a lot of time throughout her life walking on eggshells, trying not to light her father’s fuse. By the time she’d grown a semblance of a backbone, the angry man he’d been had mostly disappeared. He reappeared only during times of high stress, and it was all EvaMarie could do not to give in to her childhood fears.

Now she had to face Mason—with no time for deep breaths or wrapping herself in invisible armor. Just hunkering down, enduring—just like most of her days now. The fact that he was actually here, in this house with her right now, seemed completely surreal, but the derision on his face had been very real.

There had been no doubt in her mind how he felt about her after all these years. She should take solace in the fact that he hadn’t completely forgotten her. But she had a feeling she wasn’t gonna feel better about him, or this situation, any time soon.

Maybe a little diplomacy would smooth the way...

“Congratulations, Mason,” she said as she approached him with measured steps, trying not to take stock of the new width of his shoulders beneath a fitted navy sports jacket that she never would have pictured him wearing, even if it was paired with a pair of dark jeans and cowboy boots. Talk about surreal...

He turned from his study of the formal dining room to face her, then raised a cool brow. How could he portray arrogance with just that simple movement? “For what?”

“Obviously, you done well to be able to afford—”

“—to no longer be pushed around by people, just because they have more money than me?”

Her entire self went very still. His words told her everything she needed to know—how Mason viewed his childhood, their breakup and her in this moment.

It told her one other thing: he was going to find a lot of satisfaction in this scenario.

Maybe it would be best to focus on business. “So, what can I do for you?” she asked, though she had a feeling he wasn’t gonna make it easy...

“That tour I mentioned.” He waved his hand in the direction of the stairs. “Lead the way.”

EvaMarie simply could not catch a break. She could almost feel his gaze as she took deliberate steps down the rest of the hall, pointing out various rooms.

He wasn’t even subtle in his gibes... “Can’t say I’m loving what you’ve done with the place. This version has taken the concept of ‘simplify’ to a whole new level, I believe.”

She couldn’t even argue, because she agreed with him. The state of her family home was a drain on her emotional equilibrium every day. But having someone else point it out...well, it certainly hurt.

Should she admit she’d sold off all but her mother’s family heirlooms to keep them afloat? Yeah, his reaction to that would be fun. Just one more thing to mock her with.

So she kept silent on that topic, instead launching into a knowledgeable diatribe on the parquet floor pattern, imported tile and other amenities her father had spared no expense on. All the little details she’d spent a lifetime learning that would be useless once she was driven away—but for now she could use them to keep herself from admitting the truth.

She’d done what she could, but the estate was going under, and there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot she could do to stop it.

“You’re getting a good deal,” she said, trying to keep any emotion from her voice.

“A great deal,” he conceded.

Color her shocked.

They stood at the top of the back landing, facing a large arch window that gave a clear view to the stables and beyond. It was a mirror of the front of the house, which looked out over the drive and the wooded property between the house and the highway.

Mason studied the view. “Gardener?”

“Um, no,” she murmured. “Not anymore.”

“That explains a lot,” he replied.

Stiffening, she felt herself close off even more. Though she shouldn’t be surprised that he just couldn’t leave it with the question. From the first words out of his mouth, she had expected his judgment.

“My brother and I would like to offer anyone on staff a job,” he said, surprising her. “No need for them to be worried about their incomes because the place has changed hands.” He stepped back to the landing, studying the first floor from his higher vantage point. “And we’re obviously going to need some help getting things in order.”

Yeah, no need for the staff to worry...only her family worried about living on the street... She ignored the implication that the property would need a lot of work to whip it into shape. She’d done the best she could. “That’s very generous of you,” she said, struggling not to choke on the words and the sentiment. “Currently we only have one employee. Jim handles the stables.”

Mason stared at her, wide-eyed. “And the rest?”

“Handled by me.”

“Cooking? Cleaning?”

EvaMarie simply stared, not liking where this was headed. Sure enough...

“Well, someone has definitely grown up, haven’t they? I can remember days of you being waited on and pampered...”

Unbidden, she flushed. “If that’s a backhanded compliment, thank you.” She turned away, breathing through her anger as she stepped over into an open area that branched off into hallways to the various rooms. “The rest of this floor is bedrooms and baths, except for this sitting area.”

“Your parents occupy the master suite?” he asked, his voice calm and collected.

Of course it was. After all, he wasn’t the one being typecast.

“No. The stairs are too much for my father anymore. There’s a set of rooms behind the kitchen. They sleep there.” They were originally staff quarters, but she left that unspoken.

“I’ll see the master suite, then.”

She gave a slow nod, then turned to the short hallway on the left.

“Your father’s illness?” he asked, for the first time using a gentle tone she didn’t trust at all.

“Multiple sclerosis, though he prefers not to speak of it,” she said, keeping her explanation as matter-of-fact as possible. No point in exhibiting the grief and frustration that came with becoming a caretaker for an ill parent. “We’ve managed as well as we could, but the last two years he’s steadily lost his mobility and physical stability.”

Her mother had declined also, though hers was from losing the stimulation, social gaiety and status that she had fed off for most of her life.

The grandeur of the master suite swept over EvaMarie, just as it always did when she entered. It was actually two large rooms, joined into one. Both were lined and lightened by hand-carved, floor-to-ceiling white wooden panels strategically accented in silver-leafing, the same accent that was used throughout the house.

With thick crown molding and a crystal chandelier in each area, the space left an indelible impression. Even empty as it was now.

She stepped fully inside as Mason strolled the cavernous space, his boots announcing his progress on the wood flooring. “There are his-and-hers dressing areas and bathrooms on each end of the suite,” she explained. “Though the baths haven’t been updated in some time.”

“I’m sure we will take care of that,” he said, pausing to turn full circle in the middle of the sleeping area. One wall was dominated by an elaborate fireplace that EvaMarie could remember enjoying from her parents’ bed as she and her mother savored hot chocolate on snowy days.

She thought of the ivory marble bathtub in her mother’s bathroom, deep enough that EvaMarie had been able to swim in it when she was little. It didn’t have jets in it like the latest and greatest, but it was a gorgeous piece that would probably be scrapped, if the latest and greatest was what Mason was looking to put in.

Unable to handle any more of memory lane, she turned back toward the door to the hallway.

“And your room?” Mason asked from far too close behind her.

“Still on... On the other side of the floor.” She held her breath, waiting on him to insist on seeing her room. Between them was Chris’s room—please, no more. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself together.

In an attempt to distract them both, she went on. “The third floor has been empty for years. There’re two baths up there. A couple of the bigger rooms have fireplaces. Oh, and the library, of course.”

His pause was significant enough to catch her eye.

Did he remember the one time that she’d snuck him in to show him her favorite place in the house? Long ago, she could have spent entire days in the library, only emerging when her mother made her come to the table. Maybe Mason did remember, because he turned away, back to the stairs.

“Another day, perhaps,” she murmured.

As they hurried down the stairs, he didn’t look back until he reached the side entrance, his hand wrapped around the Swarovski crystal handle.

“If there are any problems, I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”

She let her head incline just a touch, feeling a deep crack in her tightly held veneer. “I’m sure.”

“It was good to see you again.” His sly grin told her why it had been—because it had served his purpose.

She wished she could say the same.


Three (#ulink_b4bd3eba-a905-5d88-894d-690caec69e65)

“The signing date is set. The property is almost ours.” Mason grinned at his brother, then turned back to the lawyer. “You’ve been great. We really appreciate it.”

James Covey grinned back, looking almost as young as them, though Mason knew he was a contemporary of their father. “It’s been my pleasure. I’m thrilled to be able to help y’all like this.”

His smile dimmed a little, and Mason knew what he was thinking...what they were all thinking. That they wished their father hadn’t had to die for this to happen. Kane’s hand landed with heavy pressure on Mason’s shoulder, and they shared a look.

It wasn’t all a bed of roses, but they would honor their father’s memory by establishing the best stables money could buy and talent could attain, using everything he’d ever taught them.

It was what he would have wanted.

“So are we going to be running into the Hyatts every time we turn around in this town?” Kane asked as they exited the lawyer’s stylish brownstone in the upscale part of downtown that had been renovated several years back. Slowly they made their way down the steps.

Kane had been gone for a week and a half, starting the process of training their new ranch manager to take over their Tennessee stables. They weren’t leaving behind their original property, though it wouldn’t be their main residence any longer.

“I don’t think so,” Mason said.

“Good, because that would be awkward.”

Mason rather thought he would enjoy rubbing their newfound success in Daulton Hyatt’s face, but he preferred not to confirm his own suspicions that he was a bad person. “I’m not even sure what’s going on out there,” he said. “When I went to tour the stables, no one was there except the guy we’re taking on, um, Jim. I haven’t seen the Hyatts...or EvaMarie...around town.”

“Well, don’t look now.”

Mason looked in the same direction as his brother, spotting EvaMarie immediately as she strolled up the wide sidewalk headed their way. The smart, sophisticated dress and heeled boots she wore were a definite step up from the sweatpants he’d seen her in, yet he almost got the feeling that she’d put on armor against him.

He wasn’t that bad, was he? Okay, maybe he was...

She paused at the bottom of the steep concrete stairs, her dark hair falling away from her shoulders as she looked up at them. “The landlady told me where to find you.”

“Um, why were you looking?” Mason asked, ignoring Kane’s chuckle under the cover of his palm. He also tried to ignore the way his body perked up with just the sound of her husky voice.

EvaMarie ignored his question and nodded toward the office behind them. “He’s good.”

“I know.” So there’s no getting out of the deal.

EvaMarie was obviously not daunted by Mason’s refusal to relent. She extended her hand in his brother’s direction. “You must be Kane?”

His traitor brother went to the bottom of the stairs to shake her hand and properly introduce himself, then he glanced at Mason over his shoulder. “Gotta go. I’ll see you back at the town house tonight.”

What a wimp! Though Mason knew Kane wasn’t running; he was simply leaving Mason to deal with the awkward situation of his own creation. The odds of EvaMarie simply happening by here were quite small, even though the town was only moderately sized with a large population of stable owners in the area.

Sure enough, she waited only long enough for Kane to disappear around the corner before turning back to him. “Could I speak with you, please? There’s a café nearby.”

A tingling sense told him he was about to be asked for a favor. Not that the Hyatts deserved one. After all, Daulton had shown no mercy when he’d had Mason’s father fired from his job and blacklisted at the other stables in the area. He hadn’t cared at all that his father was the sole support of two children. He’d only wanted revenge on Mason for daring to touch his daughter.

Mason would do well to remember that, regardless of how sexy EvaMarie might look all grown up.

The café just down the street was locally owned, with a cool literary ambience that was obviously popular from the crowd gathered inside. Bookshelves lined a couple of walls, containing old books interspersed with teapots and mugs. Tables and ladder-back chairs shared the space with oversize, high-backed chairs covered in leather. He glanced at EvaMarie, only to see her gaze sweeping over the crowd in a kind of anxious scan.

Though he refused to admit it, seeing her do that gave him a little pang. It seemed as though things hadn’t changed too much after all. She still couldn’t stand to be seen with him in public.

Struggling to stuff down his fifteen-year-old resentments, Mason was a touch short when he snapped, “Grab a table. I’ll order the coffee.”

“Oh.” She glanced his way, her smile tentative. “Could I just get an apple cider please?”

Apparently she hadn’t chosen the place for the coffee. As he took his place in line, he couldn’t help but think how strange this was. EvaMarie wasn’t someone he’d had a typical relationship with—though she’d been the only woman he’d had more than just sex with. That was a first—and definitely a last.

But they’d never been on a real date, just his graduation party with his high-school friends. Never really out in public. Mostly they had gone on trail rides together, holed up in the old barn loft and talked, sneaking stolen moments here and there when no one was looking.

Once he returned with their drinks, she fiddled with the protective sleeve on the cup, moving it up and down as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to try the drink or not. But she’d requested this meeting, not him, so he waited her out in silence.

Which only made the fidgeting worse. Why did he have to feel such satisfaction over that?

“I found a place for my parents,” she finally said. “They’ll be moving tomorrow.”

“That’s nice—is something wrong?”

Just as he’d known it would, his question only made her more nervous. She started to slowly strip the outer layer off the corrugated paper sleeve.

“No,” she said, then took a big swallow that was probably still very hot, considering the way she winced. “I’m fine. I just...well, I didn’t realize there would be so many people here at this time of day.”

“Still embarrassed to be seen with me?” he asked. Then wondered why in the hell those words came out of his mouth.

She must have wondered too, because her eyes widened, her gaze darting between her drink and his. “No, I mean, that isn’t the issue at all.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He wasn’t buying it. Especially not with too many bad memories to back up his beliefs.

“And my father’s reaction didn’t teach you any differently?”

That gave him pause, almost coloring those memories with a new hue. But he refused to accept any excuses, so he shrugged.

“Anyway—” she drew in a deep breath “—they chose to move into a senior living facility so my mother would have help with my dad. The cost of getting them settled is more than I anticipated. I wondered about an extension on the house?”

“Nope.”

He caught just a glimpse of frustration before her calm mask slid back into place. “Mason, I can’t afford first and last month’s rent on a place to live and to pay someone to move all of our stuff.”

“Don’t you have friends? You know, the old standby—have a nice pizza party and pickup trucks? That’s how normal people do it. Oh, right, you aren’t familiar with normal people—just the high life.”

She looked away. He could swear he saw a flush creep over her cheeks, but he certainly saw her lips tighten. That guilty satisfaction of getting under her skin flowed through him.

She turned back with a tight smile. Boy, she was certainly pushing to keep that classy demeanor, wasn’t she? “Honestly, I’ve spent the last two years taking full-time care of my father. I don’t have any—many close friends. And while I’d like to think of myself as capable, even I can’t move the bed or couch on my own. I just need—”

He opened his mouth, ready to interrupt with a smart-ass answer, when a woman appeared at EvaMarie’s side.

“Oh, EvaMarie, you simply must introduce me to your handsome friend.”

“Must I?”

EvaMarie’s disgruntled attitude made him smile and hold out his hand to the smiling blonde. “Mason Harrington.”

“Liza Young,” she said with a well-manicured hand laid strategically over her chest. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of you—I would most certainly remember.”

The woman’s overt interest wasn’t something Mason was comfortable with—he preferred women more natural than Liza—but rubbing EvaMarie the wrong way was worth encouraging it. Besides, he and his brother were gonna need contacts. Liza’s expensive jewelry spoke to money, her confident demeanor to upper class breeding. “I’m new to the area.” He glanced across the table so he could see EvaMarie’s face. “Or rather, returning after a long absence.”

“Oh? And what brings you here?” So far she had completely ignored EvaMarie beside her, but now she cast a quick glance down. “Surely not little EvaMarie Homebody.”

Okay, this wasn’t as fun. Mason narrowed his gaze but kept his smile in place. For some reason, it was perfectly acceptable for him to pick on EvaMarie—after all, Mason justified that he had a reason for his little barbs—but this woman’s comment seemed uncalled for.

“The area’s rich in racing history,” he explained. “My brother and I are setting up our own stables.”

“Oh, there’s two of you?”

No substance, all flirt. Mason was getting bored. “Lovely to meet you, but if you’ll excuse us, we were discussing business.”

“Business?” She threw a sideways glance at EvaMarie, who looked a little surprised herself. “Well, that makes more sense.”

Liza giggled, leaning forward in such a way to give Mason a good look into her not-so-modest cleavage. He couldn’t help but compare the in-your-face sexuality and lack of subtlety in a woman he had just met with the image of soft womanhood sitting beside her. EvaMarie was smartly dressed, and yes, he detected a hint of cleavage, but she hadn’t flashed it in his face in order to get what she wanted. Of course, that thought reminded him of just how much of her cleavage he’d seen...and how much he’d like to see it again. Sort of a compare-and-contrast thing. He remembered her as eager to learn anything he’d been willing to teach her—did she still need a teacher?

Mason quickly reined himself in. There was no point in going there, since he had no plans to revisit that old territory. No matter how tempting it might be. Besides, EvaMarie was looking stoic again. Maybe he should relent—a little.

He stood, then pulled a business card out of his inner jacket pocket. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Liza,” he said, handing the card over. “I hope I’ll get to see you again soon.”

Liza grinned, then reached into the clutch at her side for a pen, wrote on the card and handed it back. “So do I,” she said, then flounced back to a table across the floor where several other women were waiting.

EvaMarie had turned to watch her go, then groaned as she caught sight of the other women seated at Liza’s table, all of whom were craning their necks to get a good look. “Well, I hope you’re ready to announce your presence, because it’s gonna be all over town in about two hours.”

“That’s the plan,” Mason murmured. A glance at the card revealed Liza’s cell phone number. With a grin because he knew how much it would annoy EvaMarie, he slipped the card back into his pocket. “Now, where were we?”

The pained look that slipped over her face as she opened her mouth, probably to start from the beginning, made him feel like a jerk. So he broke in before she could speak.

“Let me see what I can do,” he said. Not a concrete answer, but he needed time to think. And a few more days of worry wouldn’t hurt her.

* * *

Dang it!

How come Mason Harrington had to show up every time she looked like a dusty mess? Here she was desperately trying to pack like a madwoman with only five days to move, and he was interrupting with his loud, insistent knocking.

She seriously considered leaving him there on the doorstep, especially since it was raining. Her nerves were strained from the physical labor, emotional stress and learning everything she needed to navigate while losing their home, but a lifetime of training had her opening the door.

But she only forced herself to produce a strained smile. After all, she was exhausted.

“Mason, what can I do for you?”

His lazy smile was way too tempting. “That’s not very welcoming.”

It wasn’t meant to be. And she refused to be lured in by his teasing—a long time ago it had been a surefire way to shake her out of a bad mood. Instead of saying what she thought, she simply focused on keeping her smile in place. But she didn’t move.

He didn’t own the place yet.

“Come on, EvaMarie. Let me in,” he added, a playful pleading look to his grin. “I have an offer that will make it worth your while.”

She hesitated, then stepped back, because continuing to keep him out was bad manners. That was the only reason. Not that she should care, but a lifetime of parental admonishments kept her in check.

Mason took a good look around the high-ceilinged foyer with its slim crystal chandelier, then walked farther down to peek into a few other rooms on either side.

“Wow. You’ve made progress.” His voice echoed in the now empty spaces.

That’s because I’m working my tail off. But again, that was impolite to say, so she held her tongue. She didn’t bite it, because she had enough pain right now. Though she’d taken on a large amount of the physical work around the estate, it had not prepared her for all the lifting, dragging and pulling of packing up her childhood home. Her muscles cried out every night for a soak in her mother’s deep tub, but even that didn’t relieve the now constant ache in her arms, thighs and back. Definitely hard on her back but great for weight loss.

He glanced down the hallway toward the back of the house. “Is your father here?”

She shook her head. “Why? Worried?”

“Nope.” Again with the cute grin, which was making her suspicious. Why was he being so nice? “Just didn’t figure it was good for him to get all riled up.”

For some reason, she felt the need to defend her parent, even though Mason was right. “He hardly ever does anymore. Not like he used to. He had a heart episode about six years back that forcibly taught him the consequences of not controlling his temper.” She gave him a saccharine smile. “I guess you’re just special.” Or inspired a special kind of hatred maybe.

“Always have been,” he said. If he’d caught the insult, he let it roll off him.

His nonchalant handling of everything she said made her even angrier. Luckily, she was used to holding her emotions deep inside.

“Actually, I finished moving them to an assisted living facility yesterday.”

Mason’s raised eyebrow prompted her to explain. “I chose to put them there because at least I’ll know there’s someone to look out for them. Even though I feel that someone should be me.” The place had cost a small fortune, but she was hoping being out from under the crippling mortgage payments would help. Now, what did she do about herself? Well, she hadn’t figured that out yet.

Hopefully she’d find something soon, or she might just break down in a panic attack. She hadn’t been kidding when she said the first and last month’s rental deposits put most places out of her range. The fact that she didn’t even have friends she could call on to let her sleep on their couch made her feel lost and alone.

“Do you work?” Mason asked.

The change in conversation came from out of the blue. “What?”

“A job. Do you have one?”

His tone implied she didn’t even know what one was. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him about the new career she was building. He would probably think she was crazy or arrogant to believe she could make a living off her unique voice.

“Taking care of my parents and this place was my job,” she answered, even though most people didn’t view it that way. Mason probably wouldn’t either, even though it had been damn harder than a lot of things she could have done. And asking one of the families they knew in the area for a job would have meant exposing her parents’ failure to their world. She’d chosen not to go against their wishes.

True to form, Mason asked, “How’d that work out for you?”

“I did the best I could,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Think you could do better with a better boss and actual resources?”

Now she was really confused. “What?”

He turned away, once again inspecting the rooms. “My brother and I have plans—big plans. To establish our stables is a simple matter of quality stock, training and talent.” He turned back, giving her a glimpse of his passion for this project. Guess buying this estate wasn’t only about revenge.

“Establishing a reputation—that’s a whole different story,” he said, his gaze narrowing, “and we don’t have the breeding to back it up.”

She knew all too well how hard it was to keep and make contacts within society here—after all, her father had kept his illness a secret in order to protect his own social reputation. It took two things to break into the inner circle around here: breeding and money. Preferably both. But they’d accept just the money if someone was filthy rich.

“We can fast-track it—after all, money makes a big first impression.”

A surreal feeling swept through EvaMarie. Honestly, she couldn’t imagine she was talking to the same boy who’d held her so long ago. Sure, he’d talked horses and racing. She’d known he’d wanted to own his own stables one day—but money had never come up. Then.

They’d both been naïve to think it hadn’t mattered.

“Which means we will be turning this into a showplace,” Mason said, sweeping his hand to indicate the room.

“What does that have to do with me?”

He cocked his head to the side, a lock of his thick hair falling over his forehead. “You’ve lived here all your life?”

She nodded, afraid to speak. His sudden attention made her feel like a wild animal being lowered into a trap.

“I bet you know this place better than anyone.”

“The house and the land,” she said, feeling a pang of sadness she forced herself to ignore.

“So you could come to work for me. Help with the renovations. Prepare for the launch. I’ll even give you more time to move everything.”

Her heart started to pound as she studied him. “Why?” Revenge? Everything in her was saying to run. Why else could he possibly want this?

“I need a housekeeper. I’m assuming you need a job,” Mason said with a nonchalant shrug. “You need time to figure this all out. That’s what you were asking for, right?”

Regardless, working with him every day? Watching him take over her only home and never being able to show her true emotions for fear he would use them as a weapon against her? The last few encounters had been experience enough. No, thank you.

She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t?” He stepped closer. “Seems to me you’re about to be out of a home, income... What’s the matter? Afraid your friends will find out you have to get your hands dirty for money?”

That was the least of her worries. Her parents had feared that—yes—but not her.

He moved even closer, giving her a quick whiff of a spicy aftershave. Why was he doing that? Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

“I’ll give you a job and a place to live. Sounds a whole lot better than the alternative, don’t you think? And in return I get someone who can make this renovation move even faster.”

Looking into his bright blue eyes, she wasn’t so sure she agreed. There had to be a catch in there somewhere...but she truly wasn’t in a position to turn him down.


Four (#ulink_07bae9c1-3b6b-5551-911b-7cd9c79b38b4)

EvaMarie smoothed down her hair, wishing she could calm her insides just as easily when she heard Mason come through the side door. From the sound of other voices, he wasn’t alone.

This time she was prepared.

Or so she thought. First she caught sight of Mason’s brother, Kane, who had filled out just as much as his brother. The two men were like solid bookends; carbon copies with broad shoulders and muscles everywhere. If only Mason’s shoulders were available for resting on. How incredible would it feel to have someone to rely on for a change? To lean against his back, feel his bare skin against hers, run her fingers down along those pecs—

Whoops. Not the direction she should let her mind wander down right now. Especially as the three men before her all turned their attention her way. The middle one—slighter than the brothers—looked vaguely familiar.

Kane stepped forward, intimidating in his size and intensity, until a smile split his serious look. “Hello, EvaMarie. I’m Kane.”

“I remember,” she murmured, and shook his hand. What a surprise. No smart remarks. No ultimatums. Looked like at least one brother could be reasonable. “Mason didn’t say when you’d be joining us.” She could sure use a buffer from his brother.

“Oh, I won’t be moving in right away. I’m still tying up some loose ends at our base camp, and we invested in a town house when we were scoping out the landscape.” He shared a glance with his brother. “But I’ll be here soon enough.”

The thought of being here alone with Mason set off a firestorm of nerves inside her.

“After I get the chance to work my magic on this place. I’ve been waiting years,” the slender man said as he moved forward. He didn’t have the bulk of the other two, but she could tell he made up for it with loads of personality. The good kind.

“Hello, EvaMarie,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, so I don’t expect you to remember me. I’m Jeremy Blankenship.”

“Oh, yes. I thought you looked familiar. It’s good to see you again...”

Now that she had a name to go with the face, her memories clicked. Jeremy was a son of one of the active horse racing families who had decided to go completely against the grain and attend school for an interior design degree.

“Can we move past the pleasantries and get to work, please?” Mason groused.

“You’d better get used to pleasantries and small talk if you plan on socializing much in this town,” Kane warned.

Jeremy nodded his agreement before turning his gaze back to EvaMarie with questions in his soft brown eyes that had her tensing. “When I heard the Harringtons had bought the estate, I didn’t expect to find you still here.”

Before she could answer, Mason cut in. “EvaMarie will be overseeing a lot of the daily work and details for me.”

Jeremy looked between them for a moment. “Oh, so are y’all together?”

“No.” Mason’s voice was short, but EvaMarie wondered if that was a hint of satisfaction she heard. “When I say she’ll be working, I mean it literally. As in, for me.”

There it was... EvaMarie felt her face flame, blood rushing to the surface as she wondered how many other people he would find satisfaction in telling her new status to. Part of her wanted to crawl away in defeat, but she forced her shoulders back, projecting a confidence she was far from feeling. With any luck, this job would be a gateway to a new life for her. One that wasn’t going to be at the same level as she’d had growing up, but despite what a lot of people were probably gonna think, she was fine with that.

At least she’d be one step closer to this life being hers.

There was no point pouting over what she couldn’t change...yet. That was one thing life had taught her. The key was to simply put her head down and power through. “Jeremy, would you like a look around?” she asked, assuming that’s why he was here.

“Would love it. After all, I can’t interior design if I haven’t seen the interior, right?” He smiled big, as if to show her his approval, then linked his arm through hers and led her down the hallway.

She might just like having him here.

Most of the rooms were just going to need new wall treatments, updated lighting and furniture. Uncomfortable at first, EvaMarie soon put forth a few tentative ideas and received an accepting reaction from all but Mason, who remained aloof though not outwardly antagonistic. She directed the little party around the downstairs, then into the kitchen and family room.

“This would be a great place for a leather sofa and big screen television,” Kane said. “Right next to the kitchen. Perfect hang out space.”

The discussion devolved into name brands and types of electronic equipment that had EvaMarie yawning. Then Kane climbed the three steps to the main kitchen area. The rest of them followed. EvaMarie tried not to cringe. This room had been in desperate need of a makeover for years. Its mustard yellow appliances and farm motif dated it from the early eighties at the latest.

“I want more extensive work in here,” Kane said. “Stainless-steel appliances, new granite countertops, the whole shebang.”

“My brother,” Mason interrupted, “in this area, I give you free rein.”

“That’s because you don’t want to starve,” Kane teased.

Mason winked, pointing at his brother. “You are correct, sir.”

Without thought, EvaMarie said, “Well, looks like one of you learned to cook.”

The men glanced her way. Once more she felt that telltale heat in her cheeks. Maybe she’d gotten a little too comfortable—the last thing she should have alluded to was her one and only trip to the Harrington household when she was a teenager. That’s when she’d realized that the extent of Mason’s cooking skills included opening a box and the microwave door. Of course, hers weren’t comprehensive, but her mother had the housekeeper teach her the basics. She’d enjoyed it so much she’d taken home ec and some specialty classes once adulthood allowed her to pursue a small number of her own interests.

“Well, we will definitely coordinate these two spaces so they flow together,” Jeremy said, smoothly glossing over her sudden embarrassed silence. He gestured back toward the living area beyond the bar that served as a divider between the two spaces. “Do you gentlemen want a true man cave here or something more subtle?”

“Man, too bad there isn’t a place for a big game room,” Mason said. “We can at least watch the Super Bowl on a big screen here, but something more intense would be a great addition.”

Kane nodded. “Pinball machines, a poker table, a wine cellar. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“What are the odds of us getting something that’s awesome?” Mason asked Jeremy with a grin.

“Well, all of these first-floor rooms are open to the hallway. How true to the style of the house do you want to hold to?”

The guys bantered back and forth, Mason’s smile breaking through full throttle. For the first time, EvaMarie caught a true glimpse of the Mason she remembered. Oh, he was older, more ruggedly handsome. But that smile showcased the fun-loving, friendly resonance of his youth.

She’d missed it, as much as the thought scared her.

As they talked more and more about what would make a really cool splash in the house, EvaMarie could feel her stomachache growing. Ideas sparked in her brain...as did the voice of her father calling her a traitor. The push and pull of what should be clear family loyalties confused her. After all, her family had had a difficult time with what life had thrown at them. While losing their home was just part of that life, losing it to the Harringtons was unforgivable to her father.

She shouldn’t be helping them. But she needed to do a good job, right?

“What about the basement?” she asked, the words bursting forth before she’d actually made up her mind.

The three men shared a glance, then Jeremy asked, “What basement?”

EvaMarie offered the interior designer a tentative smile despite her guilt and led the way back out to the breezeway. On the far side of the stairwell was a regular door that opened to a fairly wide set of stairs. She could feel Kane as he leaned around the doorway. “Looks promising,” he said.

“What it’s gonna look is dusty,” she said as she started down, flicking the light switch on as she went. “I can’t even remember the last time anyone was down here.”

She’d actually forgotten about the space, which was currently used for storage. Probably a good thing. Thinking about packing and moving all the stuff down here too might have thrown her over the edge of what sanity she had left.

Funny the things you could block out to protect your mind in a precarious state, she thought.

“Wow. This is incredible,” Jeremy was saying as his dress shoes clicked on the concrete floor.

“The open space runs under this half of the house,” EvaMarie explained, relaxing a little in the face of his enthusiasm. “Since the house was built into the hill, they finished this portion for the square footage. But with only the three of us, there wasn’t any need for it.”

As Mason’s expression darkened, she decided it was time to keep her mouth shut again. The men explored, brainstorming all the cool things they would do down here, sparing no expense on Mexican tile and glass block room dividers and yes, a place for pinball machines. Her input was no longer needed. Not wanting to get in the way, EvaMarie wandered back the other way to the one room on the other side of the stairway. A large open entryway framed the room beyond like a picture.

The long-mirrored wall reflected the ballet bar attached at a child’s level. She could also see her elaborate doll house closed up in the corner. The few stuffed animals she’d kept were resting safely in the wooden toy chest. This had been her own space when she was a little girl—a safe haven from her father’s unreasonably high expectations and her mother’s silent pressure to conform.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/dani-wade/reining-in-the-billionaire/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.