“I don’t own Dancer. You do. There’s no reason for me to be included in that.” She shrugged from beneath his arm and stopping, glared at him. “Right after he was named the favorite to win the Classic, they showed up here to tape his daily exercises and grooming. They interviewed me then and I told them everything there is to know about Dancer.” She shook her head. “This particular fifteen minutes of fame is all yours.”
* * *
When Jake helped her out of the back of the limousine, Heather felt as if she’d stepped right into the middle of a three-ring circus. Cameras whirred and reporters called out questions as they walked along the carpeted runway toward the entrance of one of the oldest and most prestigious hotels in Louisville.
“This is just like a Hollywood premiere,” Jake said, placing his hand to her back to guide her.
“And the very reason I would have preferred staying at home,” she muttered. They’d spent an hour and a half before dinner being interviewed by the television network as well as a couple of reporters from the print media. She was more than ready to escape the spotlight.
“What was that, honey?” he asked, leaning close.
“It’s not important.” She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been able to hear her. The noise was almost deafening.
Thankfully they left most of the chaos behind as they crossed the lobby to enter the Grand Ballroom. She waited while Jake presented the doorman with his invitation, then walking into the ornate room, looked around. The light from the massive crystal chandeliers caused the gold accents on the pristine white walls to take on a rich glow and complemented the heavy floor-to-ceiling red velvet drapes. As she continued to scan the room, she spotted a few of the same guests that had attended the Wainwrights’ reception along with several well-known celebrities and foreign dignitaries.
“Is that who I think it is?” Jake asked as a sheikh and his entourage strolled past them.
She nodded. “That’s Sheikh Kalid Al-Kahra. He owns Dancer’s biggest competition.”
“Do you think we have anything to worry about?” Jake asked.
“Not a chance.” She couldn’t stop her smug smile. “The sheikh’s jockey has a tendency to take the horses he’s riding to the lead right out of the gate and doesn’t let up. By the time they reach the homestretch, the horse has nothing left for the sprint to the finish.”
“I’m glad that jockey is riding the sheikh’s horse and not ours,” Jake said, grinning.
“The previous owner of Hickory Hills demanded the best. That’s why we have Miguel Santana wearing our silks.” She nodded toward a group standing off to the side of the orchestra. “See that distinguished-looking gentleman over there with all the medals and ribbons? He’s the Crown Prince of Marunda. He owns the long shot.”
“The Wainwright affair was small potatoes compared to the company we’re keeping this evening,” Jake said, accepting champagne for both of them from a passing waiter. “There are some very impressive pedigrees here this evening.”
“I suppose you could say that.” She accepted the sparkling wine he handed her and took a sip. “But I’m more impressed by the horses than I am with the people owning them.”
He looked thoughtful. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Owners like the sheikh and the prince were born into their positions in life. They didn’t have to work to get where they are. But every horse starts out the same. They may have impressive bloodlines, but they still have to work and prove themselves on the track. That’s something to be admired.”
They fell silent for several moments before she felt him watching her.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not at all.” His smile caused her pulse to speed up. “Do you realize you’re the most beautiful woman here tonight?”
“I really hadn’t given it much thought,” she said truthfully.
She had, however, thought a lot about how handsome he was. Dressed in a tuxedo she knew for certain hadn’t come off of a rack, he looked absolutely amazing.
When a beautiful young woman stepped up to the microphone in front of the orchestra and began to sing the song “At Last,” Jake set both of their glasses on a nearby table. “Let’s dance.”
He took her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor, took her into his arms. The awareness suddenly arcing between them was spellbinding. Gazing into the other’s eyes, neither spoke as the orchestra played and the young woman sang about finally finding love. Jake held her close, and swaying in time to the music, Heather knew that she’d remember the moment for the rest of her life.
When the song ended, the orchestra immediately played the beginning notes of another slow, dreamy love song and he pulled her more fully to him. Resting her head against his broad chest, she closed her eyes. She’d never felt more cherished, more secure than she did at that very moment in Jake’s arms.
“Honey, I want you more right now than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he whispered close to her ear.
His warm breath caused a shiver to course through her. She could deny that she didn’t want him just as much, but she was tired of lying. From the moment he arrived at the farm, she’d fought what she knew now to be the inevitable. Jake’s touch, his drugging kisses and being held in his arms had worn down her defenses, and she’d lost the battle she’d waged with herself. She wanted him just as much now as she had the night they’d conceived Mandy.
Leaning back to stare up at him, the heat in his cobalt gaze stole her breath.
“How long are we expected to stay at this thing?” he asked.
Her heart sped up. “We’ve put in an appearance. That’s all that’s expected.”
“Then what do you say we call it an evening and go home?” The promising look he gave her sent excitement coursing through her veins.
Before she could answer, he led her off the dance floor and out of the ballroom straight to the concierge desk. Requesting that their limousine be sent to the front entrance, Jake helped her into the backseat. He raised the window between them and the driver, then gathered her into his arms.
Touching her chin with his index finger, he smiled when their gazes met. “You do know what’s going to happen when we get back to the farm?”
Her smile robbed him of breath. “Yes.”
Crushing her to him, he covered her mouth with his and it suddenly felt as if the temperature in the car went up a good ten degrees. As she put her arms around his neck, she parted her lips and he didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss.
Her eager response sent blood surging through his veins and he didn’t think twice about slipping his hand inside the low cut neckline of her evening gown. Caressing her breast, he touched the beaded tip with his thumb. Her moan fueled the fire building in his belly, but when she moved her hand upward from where it rested on his thigh, the rush of heat tightening his groin made him feel as if the top of his head might just come off. He would have liked nothing more than to strip her of the sexy dress and make love to her right then and there. But he hadn’t made out in the backseat of a car since he was in his teens and he’d forgotten just how uncomfortable it could be.
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