Unbridled Billionaire

Kane went on, “You see, I have the paperwork that shows I bought this horse, fair and square.”

Presley felt Sun shift his big body next to her, as if sensing the gist of the conversation. She rested her palm against his withers. “Fair? Are you sure about that?” she asked.

Kane’s only response was to lift a darkly arched brow. Her stomach dropped, but she kept her expression as blank as possible. The intimidation she felt in the face of his stoic self-assurance was new to her. She’d been dealing with men—and their attitudes when they realized a woman was in charge—for many years now. Fear was foreign to her in a business setting. Yet this man evoked it with a simple look.

Not good.

She swallowed hard, but the fear got the better of her. “If those papers don’t list the seller as Presley Macarthur, then I’m afraid you’ve bought this horse illegally.”

Yikes. Presley immediately wished the words back. That wasn’t the tack she’d meant to take. All the calm preparation she’d done before coming here was flying out the window. “What I mean is, there seems to have been a misunderstanding—”

“I’d say so. Because I bought this horse from the home farm run by the late Mr. Macarthur’s widow, Marjorie.”

While I was out of town on a consult...

“I’m sure you did, Mr. Harrington.” Boy, that name was hard to force out from her constricted throat. “But it’s a matter of public record that Sun is owned by me, Mr. Macarthur’s only daughter. Not his widow.” She smiled as sweetly as she could fake. “Though we do own the business jointly, so I can see where such a misunderstanding could occur.”

The sudden brooding look he shot her made her want to stammer, but she fought for control. Reaching into the side pocket of her skirt, she pulled out a copy of her ownership papers. “If you need proof, I have it right here.”

To her consternation, he stalked forward. Though she knew he was coming for the papers, her heart sped up and her palms grew damp. Once more she knew it wasn’t all from the stress of this situation. This felt...personal. His long fingers brushed over hers as he took the pages, and a hot flush spread like wildfire through Presley’s limbs.

What the heck was happening here?

Granted, Presley wasn’t one to swoon. She was too busy taking care of business. But she could honestly say she’d never reacted to a man the way she had to Kane Harrington. It felt as if a tornado had taken up residence inside her body, swirling her emotions and reactions into a maelstrom she couldn’t control—or even make sense of. As Kane read over the papers, she had a brief reprieve to compose herself before he pinned her with his gaze once more.

“Well, it seems we are at an impasse, Miss Macarthur.”

“No.” She drew the word out as if he were a child in need of instruction. “This situation is very clear-cut. I’ll be taking Sun home, where he belongs.”

“And the check I gave to Ms. Macarthur?”

Presley struggled not to wince. “I assure you, your money will be returned to you in full.” No matter how much of a hit the business took because of it. Presley had a sneaking suspicion her stepmother had spent as much as possible before Presley could get wind of what happened.

“And what about my reputation?”

She cocked her head to the side, tightening her hand around Sun’s lead rope. “Excuse me?”

Kane stepped closer, close enough to cast a shadow over her. “I bought this particular horse for a reason, Miss Macarthur. I’m sure you are fully aware of the jump start a stud of this caliber would give to our breeding program. That’s not the kind of thing I can find just anywhere.”

“I do understand, but don’t really see where that is my problem.”

But one look from Kane Harrington told her he was about to make it her problem. “I think the people around here would disagree with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know our businesses,” he said with a smooth confidence. “We know they run on reputation almost as much as the performance of our horses.”

Oh, Presley knew all about that, having experienced the struggle to keep her stepmother out of the business of running their stables since her father’s death more than six months ago. Her stepmother didn’t know the meaning of tact or, hell, even business. All she saw were dollar signs, and she wanted more and more—no matter what she hurt in the process.

They can scent a weak link better than a hound dog and will extort it worse than a lawyer. Never let them see weakness.

Her father had repeated those words to her again and again, so why had he decided that his daughter and his wife should share the business he had worked so hard to build since before Presley was born? Her stepmother was the weakest link of all—and Presley had a feeling Kane Harrington knew that all too well.

Wielding his power without noticeable effort, Kane moved closer, then had the gall to pace around her, making her temperature rise. The urge to move away became unbearable.

Just as Kane reached her back, she slipped beneath Sun’s neck, putting the horse between them to avoid the unfamiliar arousal this man evoked deep inside. Yes, as much as she hated to give the feeling a name...

Kane’s thick, dark eyebrows rose, but he didn’t call her out on her cowardice. “The way I see it, your stepmother has done something illegal. And then there’s the embarrassment of retracting the announcement that Sun would be joining the Harrington stables.” He loomed over the horse’s high back, pinning Presley with a steely-eyed glare that should have made her mad but instead sent intriguing shivers up and down her spine.

“If my reputation is gonna take a hit over this, so is yours,” he assured her.

Anyone who thought the customer was always right had never been in just this situation with just this man. One look told Presley she was about to make many concessions—whether she wanted to or not.

Two (#uc180dca0-fb39-56ef-86fc-98faff9162cb)

Kane could tell the moment Presley Macarthur realized he wasn’t letting her off the hook without consequences. She was pretty good at hiding her expression—but her gorgeous, moss-green eyes gave her away.

They told him she was going to try to get out of this somehow.

“I’m really s-s-sorry about that—”

Kane shouldn’t be happy about that stammer, shouldn’t wish it was from more than just the pressure he was bringing to bear. It marked him as a bad person, surely. But it didn’t stop the satisfaction from rushing in. The curiosity.

Whoa. This game is fun.

“So you’re sorry your stepmother made a mistake. How do you plan to make it up to me?”

Only as her eyes widened did he realize how that might sound—and not just the words. An attraction, a need sparked by this woman had given his voice a husky quality. He hadn’t had this type of reaction with a single debutante since he’d moved back to Kentucky.

Hell, years before that, even.

Why this particular woman? She wasn’t flashy like the diamond-studded princesses in the main house. Her dress was pretty enough, made of a nice-quality material, but its loose style didn’t reveal a single curve. Kane was intrigued by what might be waiting underneath for him to discover. And this close, he noticed another significant difference. Whereas every woman he’d met tonight wore makeup to a greater or lesser extent, Presley Macarthur’s face was clean and clear, without so much as tinted lip gloss to highlight the sexy curves of her naked lips.

Suddenly her gaze narrowed, and she pulled herself a little taller. “What do you mean, exactly?”

The pushback intrigued him, too. The last thing he wanted was a weak woman, one who needed taking care of—that type was his kryptonite, as Emily had proven all too well. Before him was an attractive woman who obviously knew and ran her own business. If the gossip he’d heard was correct, Presley also did consulting on equine and stable management. So she was smart, not easily intimidated. Kane was going to have to get creative to recoup this loss.

He shook his head, ignoring her question while he worked out the puzzle in his head, well aware his silence would be intimidating in and of itself. What was happening to him? First his earlier anger. Now he was contemplating...what?

Blackmail?

Sure, that would get him a long way toward acting on this attraction, toward finding out what was beneath Presley’s loose dress. Not. The sudden idea that popped full-blown into his head was very naughty. As if reading his thoughts, Presley leveled a suspicious gaze squarely in his direction. Kane relied on his instincts, but he wasn’t usually quick to act. He thought things through, weighed the consequences, made plans. Impulsiveness was more Mason’s style.

Not tonight.

This was too delicious an opportunity. “I’ll need you to fix this for me—”

“I would think good and hard before you try to force me into anything inappropriate,” she interrupted.