“Looks like we’ll both be getting our way, then,” she said with a tight smile.
Both get their way? His eyes roamed over her delicate frame. Oh, the possibilities. Slipping that tight ponytail down would be the first. Unbuttoning her stiff shirt would be next.
And making use of that empty stall would be another.
Yeah, this would definitely be a long month.
* * *
Tessa knew when a man was attracted; she wasn’t stupid. And in all honesty, she found this hotshot producer pretty sexy, but she’d built up an immunity to sexy, smooth talkers.
Besides, the last guy who’d captured her attention was a city boy through and through. His polished shoes, designer suits and perfectly coiffed hair hadn’t bothered her. What bothered her was when he’d decided to use her name and finances to further his small-business venture.
There was no way Tessa would let herself get sidelined by some captivating, powerful stranger from Hollywood just because he made her heart beat a bit quicker with that one-sided smile and those heavy-lidded eyes.
Most twenty-five-year-old women were getting married and having babies. Tessa opted to chase her own set of dreams—the Triple Crown.
There was no time for serious relationships when she lived in a stable, training most hours of the day. And she most definitely thought more of herself than to let go of her innocence for a quickie.
Besides, she’d learned the hard way how cruel relationships could be and how the word trust meant different things to different people.
“I need to take Oliver out for a ride,” she told Grant, hoping he’d take those sultry eyes and be on his way for now. “I assumed when Dad said you’d arrive today, it would be later, so I had blocked out a two hour window for you after lunch.”
He checked his watch. “I can come back, but it may help if I have that spreadsheet, so I know when not to disturb you.”
Tessa sighed. He was mocking her. That was fine; she was used to it. But the last guy who’d decided to make a joke of her had found himself out one girlfriend and a whole lot of pride by the time she’d finished with him. Of course, his mocking had come on a whole other, more painful level.
She moved to the next stall, where Oliver, her beautiful Thoroughbred, waited for his warm-up. Oliver wasn’t her racing horse. No, he was her baby, and she loved him as dearly as she would her own child. He was a bit finicky, a bit hyper some might say, but Tessa and he understood each other. And they pretty much both loathed outsiders.
“I’ll bring that spreadsheet to our meeting,” she told Grant as she slid open the stall. Oliver, restless as usual, started his bucking dance, his way of letting her know he was more than ready to go. “I can meet you back here in two hours—”
One second she was talking and the next she was in Grant’s arms. She hadn’t seen him move, but suddenly he was pulling her away from the opening in the stall.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking up into the most impressive set of dark, near-black eyes.
Grant stood frozen, his arms wrapped around her, his eyes now wide and focused on Oliver. With his attention not directly on her, she could take a moment to appreciate the strong jawline beneath the dark stubble, the tanned skin, his firm grip on her, giving her the opportunity to learn that he had fabulous muscle tone beneath that new gray flannel shirt.
And he smelled so damn good. Perhaps she was just glad to be inhaling something other than hay and horse poop, but Grant Carter’s aftershave, cologne or the combination of both was masculine, strong and sexy...just like the man.
“Grant?” she asked, sliding from his grasp.
His gaze went from the stallion to her and held, before he shook his head as if to focus.
“He jumped when you started to step in,” Grant told her, taking a step back and raking a hand through his short, messy hair. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Still confused at his overreaction, but a little touched by his instant ride to the rescue, Tessa crossed her arms. “Hurt? I won’t get hurt tending to the horses, Grant. Oliver is always like this. That’s why I’m the only one who handles him.”
Grant shrugged. “My apologies. I’m just not used to horses.”
She tilted her head, still trying to get a feel for this newcomer into her world. “Are you going to be okay on this set?”
“I’m fine.” He sent her another killer, knee-weakening smile. “I didn’t want you hurt, that’s all.”
The way those dark eyes held hers, and the soft, yet firm tone of his voice washed over her like a warm, protective blanket. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man. But that protective streak, and an underlying secret vulnerability, made him even more attractive in her eyes.
“I don’t think that’s all,” she commented, calling him out on whatever seemed to cripple him. “I don’t want to be rude, but you are working on a film about horses. Shouldn’t you know something about them?”
That sexy smile spread wider across his face as Grant eased forward with a slow, easy stride any cowboy would envy. But this man was from L.A., the city of sin and silicone. If it weren’t for the newly purchased clothes, which were so fresh looking they might as well have the tags dangling, Tessa would swear he lived on a farm.
But he was in the film industry. He probably always looked the part. Appearances were everything to shallow people.
Grant stopped when the tips of their boots nearly touched, and she had to either stare at the way his dark gray flannel stretched across his firm pecs, or glance up and meet that dark gaze. Either body part would tempt a nun, and Tessa was finding it hard to remember what she was saying when he towered over her and looked straight down into her eyes as if he could see her deepest secrets.
She’d been tempted before in her twenty-five years, but never this fast, this hard. Tessa feared she might be in over her head with Grant Carter because they’d been in each other’s presence for mere moments, which was barely a blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things.
“Learning all about horses is why I have you. I’ve waited years to get a project of this caliber.” His eyes roamed over her face, from her eyes to her lips and back up. “And when I want something, I find a way to make it mine.”
Why did those arrogant words hold such promise? And why did she delight in the way chills raced over her body?
Had she not learned her lesson? Pretty words and attractive men were all around her in this industry. She’d been naive enough to fall for a smooth talker, had nearly taken his ring while dreaming about their future. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
And she certainly had no room for overeager hormones. She had races to win and titles to collect. Nothing could come between her and her goal...not even if it was wrapped in chiseled muscle and a white-knight attitude.
But she couldn’t deny the man tempted her more in these few moments than her ex had in the months they’d been together.
Tessa was proud she still had her virginity. Some women might be embarrassed by the fact, but she felt that was just another layer of her strong will. And a promise to her late mother.
But Grant did make her hyperaware of desires she’d never fully engaged in.
Good grief, why did she have sex on the brain? She’d just met this man, but those broad shoulders and mesmerizing eyes, combined with his protective streak, made all her lonely girlie parts perk up and wonder exactly what she was missing out on.
“I’m not interested in anything other than my racing and my horses,” she told him, damning her