Her Tycoon to Tame

Don’t go there.

But she couldn’t help it. She would never have anticipated tenderness and patience from the arrogant oaf. “You were good with the mare. I expected squeamishness from a guy wearing cashmere and Gucci, but you applied that slimy salve to her wounds with a deft touch and no gagging.”

His appraisal turned suspicious, as if he suspected an ulterior motive behind her compliment. “I have some experience.”

“So you’ve said, but you’ve left out the details.”

He ignored her invitation to fill in the blanks. She smothered a sigh. There was only one way to find out what she wanted to know—by getting to know the boss better. Not something she relished, but it was a tactic she’d learned from her more competitive cousin. Megan always found out what motivated her adversaries, then used it against them to trounce them in the show ring.

“Tell me about your years on the thoroughbred farm,” Hannah prompted.

Wyatt wiped his hands, slowly and deliberately on a rag, then stepped back to check his handiwork. “Not much to tell. My mother married the stable owner when I was fourteen. He gave me odd jobs to keep me out of trouble until I went to college.”

She studied his tightly controlled hair and expression and his traditional attire. “You don’t look like the type to find trouble.”

His lips flattened. “Are we done here?”

“You avoided answering.”

He gave her a level look. “You didn’t ask a question, and my personal life is none of your business.”

She tried to hide her frustration, but she wasn’t admitting defeat so easily. “We’re finished for now. We have pictures of her wounds and details on the severity of infection. I’ll put her in the quarantine stall and let her rest. She should be exhausted from the travel and all this first aid. Once Jeb has the test results, there will likely be more work to do.”

She dropped the irrigation syringe into the bucket, peeled off her gloves, set the pail aside and hitched a lead line to the halter. The moment she released her patient from the cross ties the mare tossed her head, almost dislocating Hannah’s shoulder.

“She’s going to hurt you.”

“And let me guess, you’re more worried about the worker’s compensation claim than me.” Oops. Shut up, Hannah.

“Triple Crown Distillery prides itself on running a safe operation. I will expect Sutherland Farm to do the same.”

“We do, but this isn’t a manufacturing plant. We work with live animals that have personalities instead of stationary vats and casks. The mare doesn’t know whether we’re friends or foes, and after what we’ve just put her through she probably thinks we’re every bit as bad as her owner. Don’t hold her skittishness against her. She’ll reveal her true nature as she gets to know us.” She stroked the mare’s long neck. “Let’s go to your new home, girl.”

Wyatt blocked her path with a wall of solid muscle and his upper arm bumped Hannah’s, splattering her with warmth. “I’ll take the lead. I’ll be able to control her better.”

“That’s a chauvinist statement if I ever heard one.”

“I’m stronger and I outweigh you.”

She surrendered the line. Any bonding he might do with the horse would work in her favor. “She goes in the last stall on the right.”

Despite the hour they’d spent working as a team, she still knew next to nothing about her new boss. Intent on finding out as much as she could, she kept pace beside him as they traversed the center aisle. “Your parents are divorced?”

“Yes.”

“Father still part of the picture?”

“No.”

“Did you enjoy working at the stable?”

“Parts of it.”

“Did you like your stepfather?”

“Yes.”

“Still keep in touch?”

“Yes.”

“Not exactly a conversationalist, are you, Jacobs?” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Hannah