Unforgettable: A Loveswept Classic Romance (3 page)

“I think I forgive you for throwing up on me when I was four,” he finally said, grinning at her.

“Very funny.” Her cheeks looked flushed. “It’s nice to see you too, James.”

“Not as nice as it is to … see you.” His grin widened. “That’s a beautiful dress. But don’t you feel a little chilly?”

“Trust me, this is tame next to something Cher would wear,” she replied, fixing him with a fair
imitation of her grandmother’s stare. “Anyway, I’ve seen more daring ones here tonight.”

That might be, he conceded, but none affected him as hers did. She was not like those women who had fluttered around him after the polo match that afternoon. Not at all. He didn’t like the thought that other men had seen her in that gown. But he had no rights to her. He’d given up that privilege on a long-ago summer night.…

He reminded himself that he hadn’t had a chance to speak to her earlier about his business proposition, and that was the only right he could have to her. After the phone call he’d received this morning, he knew he had an offer she couldn’t refuse—and one he couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone but her. Only she would understand and appreciate the momentous thing he had done.

Forcing himself to ignore the distractions she presented, he asked, “Can I ask why you’re hiding behind the palm?”

“Waiting for Grandmother,” she said.

“I see. Then I’ll wait with you. We have to talk, Annie. Privately—”

“Anne,” she corrected him firmly. “It’s just Anne now.”

He smiled. “You have never been ‘just Anne.’ ”

Before she could protest, he joined her at the wall, leaning his shoulder against the flocked paper and effectively trapping her between him and the palm. He was immediately aware of the small space separating them. His body and mind urged him closer, to take her in his arms and inhale the scent of light perfume and woman, feel her curves under his hands.

He set his jaw to keep himself in control. He had a business arrangement for her, that was all.
He looked around the ballroom and knew they could be interrupted at any moment. He would have to get her alone. He ignored the leap of his senses at the thought, and said, “I do have to talk to you privately, but this isn’t nearly private enough. There are some rooms along the back hallway—”

“I really hate to disappoint you, James, but I promised Grandmother I would wait for her. She’d be upset if I weren’t here.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Are we talking about the same Lettice Kitteridge?”

“Yes. And when she expects you to be somewhere, you’d better be there.”

He acknowledged she did know her Lettice. “Fine, then we’ll wait.”

A few minutes later she looked a little too relieved when Lettice finally emerged from the ladies’ room. She hurried toward her grandmother.

“Anne, hold it!” he exclaimed, following her.

“Thank you for waiting with me,” she said over her shoulder, “but I have to go now—”

“Anne!”

“I see you found James,” Lettice said when they both reached her.

“I didn’t know I was lost,” he said.

Lettice chuckled.

“The family’s waiting, Grandmother,” Anne said. “Besides, James probably brought someone with him tonight.”

He frowned. “I did bring my mother … oh, you mean a date. No, actually, I didn’t.”

“Then you can join us for a while,” Lettice said. “Some of my brood are here, but you know them all.”

“Thank you, Lettice,” he said, noting Anne’s
blank expression. He wondered at it, then added, “May I borrow Anne? I need to talk with her privately. We won’t be long, I promise.”

“Ahh …” Anne began.

“Of course you can,” Lettice said, smiling in clear pleasure. Most people found her dictatorial, but he cared for her as if she were a second grandmother.

“Thanks. You’re terrific.”

“But … but …” Anne stuttered as he took her arm and led her away.

“Enjoy yourselves,” Lettice called after them.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, hurrying to keep up with him.”

“Someplace very private.”

Anne instantly dug in her heels and stopped. James spun around.

“Dammit, Anne. What are you doing?”

“The question is, what are
you
doing?” she demanded. “What is all this about?”

He glanced around the corridor. “Not here.”

“Yes—”

She never got any farther. James marched her over to the nearest door, opened it, and thrust her into a small sitting room. He joined her, closing the door behind them.

No one else was in the room. The blood surged in his veins at the notion.

“James, what are—”

“Ever hear of a horse named Battle Cry?” he interrupted. He’d waited all day to tell her. He wasn’t waiting a moment longer.

“Who hasn’t?” she said in an angry voice. “Descendant of Man o’War and last year’s Triple Crown winner. He’s the hottest and most talked about
horse since his ancestor. But what does that have to do with anything?”

James grinned in excitement. He couldn’t wait to see her face. “It has everything to do with anything, Annie my girl. I bought him this morning.”

Anne gasped in astonishment. Her ears had to be deceiving her.

“It took me months to arrange this,” he went on. “The sale finally went through this morning. All I have to do is sign the papers.”

“But … but …”

“I’m retiring him from racing as of today and putting him out to stud.” He reached out and tightly gripped her arms. “What do you think of having him at your farm?”

The room spun wildly. Hot shivers ran down her back, and her lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air. She wasn’t sure that it was the idea of Battle Cry procreating future winners at her farm … or James’s touch.

She stepped away from him and back against the wall in an attempt to regain her composure. She also needed to put some distance between them. Shock and an odd disappointment ran through her. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting when James had insisted on speaking privately to her, but this certainly wasn’t it.

Battle Cry, she thought. Some said he was a reincarnation of Man o’War, the most famous racing horse ever. Man o’War had lost only one race in his career, Battle Cry only two. And James wanted to entrust the horse to her. She had worked hard to bring top quality stallions and mares to her farm, and she’d just started having some success. James must have heard about her efforts. But Battle Cry was already the horse of the decade.
If his progeny carried on the tradition, he’d be the horse of the century. It was too good to be true.

“Annie. You look as if you’re going to faint.”

His voice was filled with amusement. She opened her eyes.

“I
do
feel as if I might faint,” she said. She took a deep breath and straightened from the wall.

“Will you do it?”

He was so handsome, she thought. A sensual magnetism radiated from him, continually pulling at its female counterpart in her. Her reaction to him was growing, and it scared her. She knew she would have to have contact with him as the owner of Battle Cry. The notion was daunting. She could handle it, she sternly told herself. It wouldn’t be as bad as she thought. The most conscientious owners checked on their horses only every few months, and called in between.
None
came every week, or even every month. Thank goodness. She’d be idiotic not to take Battle Cry just because she was attracted to his owner.

James was grinning like a kid with a new Nintendo. She grinned in return. It was infectious.

“I was just thinking that I’d be crazy not to take the horse.” She hesitated, then steeled herself to ask a basic question. “Have you had him tested yet for … potency?”

“He’s got what it takes.” She blushed, then he dropped another devastating bomb. “I know I should have approached you before this, but I wanted to keep the negotiations quiet. If it got out that he was being sold instead of racing this year as he was supposed to, I would have had way too many competitors for him. There were a couple of shrewd investors I had to outbid as it was.
The news would have leaked out if I had talked with one of the big stud farms in Kentucky or California about placing him. Anyway, I thought of you instantly.”

She struggled against a wave of anger and humiliation. He wanted to place the horse with her to momentarily hide the sale. After the papers were signed, sealed, and delivered, she had a pretty good idea what would happen. He would move Battle Cry to a more prestigious farm. In her own excitement she had forgotten that it was March, halfway through this year’s breeding season. All the top mares would already be committed for the year. If she had been thinking straight, she might have remembered … and wondered.

She was about to open her mouth and tell him exactly where he could take his million-dollar-horse factory, when she remembered her own mare, Lollipop’s Rainbow, hadn’t “taken” in her last mating. She would come into season again in a few weeks—just about the time Battle Cry would arrive. Provided she agreed to take him.

She shouldn’t, she thought. It wasn’t … right.

“Don’t worry, James. My lips are sealed,” she said, deciding she was entitled to a little something for allowing her farm to be a horse hideout. And Battle Cry had to hide out somewhere.

“Good,” he said, yet he sounded oddly distracted.

She knew she should be asking more questions, but James was staring at her mouth. The room suddenly seemed hot and airless, and disturbingly intimate. Anne swallowed, the space separating them growing even smaller, though neither of them had moved. Her body was frozen to the spot as a shocking awareness surged through her bloodstream. She wondered if humans went through
a mating season, when logic and sanity were lost to potent natural drives. She had no desire to get involved with a man—and James was completely wrong for so many reasons. And yet here she was, wanting him to touch her, wanting to touch him in return.

He seemed to lean forward … then stepped away.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for the doorknob and opening the door. “Your grandmother is probably wondering what happened to us.”

The heat inside her was replaced by the chill of rejection. She knew she ought to feel grateful that he wasn’t interested. Anyway, he had his groupies and she certainly didn’t care to number among them.

She lifted her chin and said, “You’re right. Better not say anything to Grandmother about the horse just yet though. She’s got a communications system that works faster than fiber optics.”

He chuckled. “You forget. I see it in action with my own grandmother. Believe me, ITT would pay a fortune to have it.”

He escorted her through the door and back into the corridor. Her muscles, more tense than she’d thought, relaxed when she saw the other guests. She decided she deserved an award for not making a fool of herself. The potential for it had been frightening.

As they walked together, he took her elbow in a gesture of good manners. She decided she wasn’t out of the woods yet as a sensual heat flowed into her at the slight touch of his fingers.

“This is probably a moot point,” he finally said, “but I should see your place, shouldn’t I? I’d like
to do it as soon as possible, so we can ship the horse.”

He didn’t have to rub it in, she thought murderously. He might be sexy as hell, but he had a lot to learn about her. She forced herself to smile. “Most owners like to know what the facilities are.”

He smiled too, and in spite of her anger her heart flipped over. “Yours, I’ve heard, are fine. Battle Cry’s owners were concerned about his future home. When I told them I had you in mind, they were pleased with the choice.”

They reached the Kitteridge table before she could reply, though his remark pleased her … and puzzled her. Several family members were at the table. About the only one missing was her cousin, Susan, who was very active in the Washington, D.C. Party Circuit. Ann wished she were with Susan right now. Lettice’s eyes were gleaming in clear anticipation.

Anne sat down next to her grandmother, taking her time settling herself into the seat.

“Drink?” James asked, laughter underlying his tone.

“Thank you,” she said primly. She almost liked him for playing along. “A tonic, please.”

“Lettice?”

“I’m fine,” the older woman nearly snapped.

Anne hid her smile. Clearly, Lettice wanted to pump her privately.

James headed for the bar. The moment he was out of earshot, her grandmother rounded on her.

“Well?” she asked. “What were you two talking about?”

“Yes,” Ellen added, leaning forward. “I’m a little curious, too, about what you were doing with James. I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Honestly,” Anne muttered, then decided to play a bold card. “Relax, everyone. We were only talking about one of his horses. No big deal.”

The others nodded and turned back to their earlier conversation. No one would think twice about her and James talking horses. After all, she raised them, and he rode them. A calculated risk, but a small one with this crowd.

However, her grandmother eyed her thoughtfully. Anne sensed Lettice could feel the truth of her words—yet she wasn’t quite buying it. Still, the truth—when it finally surfaced—would squelch any notions her grandmother might be having now.

Anne allowed herself a smile, thinking of her plans for Lollipop’s Rainbow. Before this was over, James would be in for a few surprises too.

He watched the horse gallop along the path of the quarter-mile drive. The morning mist couldn’t hide the rider snug on the animal’s back. Even though his car was behind them on the drive, he could easily discern Anne’s dark hair tangling with the horse’s mane as she rode high on its shoulders.

Dammit, James thought, as she and the horse literally flew across the ground. She should look helpless, but she didn’t. He knew that as a professional jockey, she had ridden all kinds of horses in all kinds of situations. Her mastery over this animal was obvious. And the other night she had been incredible in that dress. Her combination of femininity and steel was intoxicating.

He wondered now if placing Battle Cry here was as wise a decision as he’d originally thought. As a child, he’d seen Anne only when he’d been dragged to the Kitteridges’ on social visits during holidays and summer vacations from military school. He’d been relieved when she left for California soon
after that night he’d kissed her. Since she’d been back, he’d avoided her. A man with secrets could offer nothing to a woman. He’d been all too abruptly reminded of that earlier time when he had misread the highway numbers and nearly gone the wrong way. He wouldn’t forget again.