With a nice, round backside greeting him as he stepped over the threshold of the fancy stables, Grant Carter was more certain than ever that accepting this film project was not only a chance of a lifetime, it was a gift from God.
He might be looking to settle down and calm his ways, but to ignore the perfection displayed before him would be a sin. Besides, Grant knew his place, and he hadn’t worked this hard in Hollywood to blow it just because temptation seemed to be glaring right in his face. Literally.
Temptation would have to wait, because producing a film revolving around horse-racing icon Damon Barrington was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up...no matter the nightmares that followed him here.
The shapely woman in front of him might be a slight distraction, but that’s all she could be. The new clause typed up in his contract had been reinforced before his arrival at Stony Ridge. Apparently, fraternizing with anyone involved in this film was a no-no. Shame, that.
Besides, even without the clause, nothing could cripple him more than being thrust back into the world of horses. But he could compartmentalize and he could be a professional on set. He simply couldn’t let personal conflicts pass the barrier he’d built around his heart.
Grant eyed the round bottom hugged by tight black riding pants. Damn clause and personal demons.
The familiar smells of the straw, the feed, the leather saddles; the sight of beautiful Thoroughbreds... The combination brought back memories—memories that had no place in his life. Especially now.
Concentrate on the backside. A body like that could surely cure all ails. Even if she was off-limits, he had already taken a mental picture to fuel fantasies.
“Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find Tessa Barrington?” he asked, carefully stepping farther into the stables, straw crunching beneath his new boots.
The petite, yet curvy woman stood up, turned and slid the vibrant red ponytail back over her shoulder. And he’d be a complete liar if he tried to deny the punch to the gut he felt when those sapphire eyes landed on him. In an instant, he wondered how many times she’d used those intriguing eyes to lure a man into her clutches.
Between the body and the face, she was a stunner, but he wouldn’t be as clichéd as to say so. No doubt she had men falling all over her, and he refused to be so predictable.
“Are you the producer?” she asked, setting aside the brush she’d been using on the horse.
“One of them. Grant Carter.” He closed the gap between them and extended his hand.
“I’m Tessa.”
Surprise slid through him, but he prevented himself from dropping his jaw...just barely. So, he’d been admiring the beautiful jockey. Interesting.
When she propped her hands on her slender waist, just above her flared hips, he nearly swallowed his tongue. That sweet little package all wrapped in denim and plaid? Who knew he had a thing for country girls? Of course, Tessa Barrington was hardly just a country girl. This woman put the fear of God in most male jockeys, trainers and owners, if rumor served correctly.
“My father said you’d be arriving today.” She gripped his hand, her gaze sliding down to his feet. “Pretty shiny boots you got there, Slick. We’ll have to scuff those up a bit.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her piercing glare, her judgmental words. A woman who didn’t hold back and wasn’t throwing herself at him? He liked her already.
When she pulled her hand from his, Grant hated how such delicate features had calluses on them, but he knew this jockey took her lifestyle seriously. She didn’t get to be the number-one contender in the country by sitting on the sidelines sipping mint juleps and wearing oversize hats.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he told her, offering a smile. “I have to say, you’re quite impressive.”
A perfectly sculpted brow lifted as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.
Grant laughed. “That didn’t come out right.”
Seriously? Was he in high school and suddenly unable to form an intelligent sentence?
“What I meant to say was I’m impressed with your talents.”
Damn it. Nothing was working for him right now.
“I’m assuming you mean because of my racing,” she replied, her brow still raised.
Relieved that she’d let him off the hook, he tilted his head. “I know you have a busy schedule—”
“It’s beyond busy, Mr. Carter.”
“Call me Grant,” he told her, cutting off that curt tone. “We’ll be spending a great deal of time together over the next couple of weeks.”
Tessa turned, picked up the brush and stepped back into the stall with the stud. “Mr. Carter—”
“Grant,” he reminded her with a grin.
Her eyes darted to his, then back to the horse she’d been brushing. “Mr. Carter, my schedule is pretty tight. I came up with a spreadsheet so you can see when I’m practicing, when I’m working in the stables and when I have time blocked off for you. Your area on the sheet is green. I would like to stick to this spreadsheet, but if you have other engagements during our time, I can attempt to rework it.”
Grant tried his hardest not to burst out laughing. She was starting to sound like his oh-so-organized twin sister...or at least how he remembered his sister before her accident.
Seeing as how Tessa still hadn’t shown a hint of a smile, he assumed she was dead serious. Wow, this woman would be tough to crack. He loved a challenge, but something told him she wanted nothing to do with this movie. Most people would be thrilled to know Hollywood wanted to make a film around their life and on their property. The majority of the women he knew would give their entire shoe collection to be associated with a Bronson Dane movie with Max Ford as lead actor.
Grant watched as Tessa stroked the horse’s mane with precision and care. This woman was obviously not impressed with him or this film. She seemed to be in her own world of details and structure, from the spreadsheet to her perfectly placed low ponytail. He had a feeling the beautiful Tessa Barrington rarely had her feathers ruffled.
And he’d so love to ruffle her. But beyond coproducing this film, he couldn’t get swept back into the world that had ruined his family’s life. He had to keep any personal emotions off this set. His next goal, of starting his own production company, was within reach, and he’d be damned if he’d let his guilt and fear hold him back.
“When is my first time slot, Tessa?” he asked, propping his hands on his hips as he took a step back from the open stall. “My team will be arriving in a month, and I plan on outlining the sites for the order of filming after I visit all the locations. But I’m flexible. I’ll work around you.”
With perfect ease, she turned, tapped the brush against her palm and tipped her head. “I know my father agreed to have me help you, but my racing has and always will come first. I should make it clear I’m not happy about this film and I don’t endorse any part of it.”
Grant couldn’t help but grin. Apparently Tessa wasn’t a fan of having her work disrupted. Actually, she was a refreshing change from the women who stumbled over themselves to get his attention because of his celebrity status and his bank account. Tessa was obviously impressed with neither, which only made her even more intriguing.
“I understand you’re a busy woman,” he repeated, hoping to use a little charm to get on her good side. “I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”
“I only agreed to let you shadow me because I refuse for this film to be anything but accurate. I don’t want my father’s life spun into something ugly or devious.”
Interesting. Clearly, Tessa had had an unpleasant experience