Presley just couldn’t do this. She’d end up falling flat on her face, literally and probably physically, too.
“What is it, Presley?”
If he had demanded, she might have lied. Instead his coaxing tone brought the most unexpected words to her lips. “How can I possibly pretend to be the—” she choked a little “—lover of a virtual stranger?”
Kane didn’t seem the least bit fazed by her naive question. Instead he retraced his steps until he was all too close and her body was a jumble of sparks she didn’t recognize.
“Would you like to practice first?” he asked, his husky tone sending a singular shiver down her spine.
Yes. “No! I just need time—”
“And I need everyone to talk about something else besides why the prize stud horse won’t be making an appearance in my stables. The surest way to distract people from that is if we have a captive audience.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
His unexpected chuckle had her stomach doing somersaults. What was wrong with her tonight?
Without warning, Kane brushed her chin with his long fingers. Startled at the warm contact, she glanced up, but the shadows over his face didn’t give her any clues to his thoughts. He simply covered her lips with his.
Sensations immediately assaulted Presley, as if her body weren’t already on overload. This simple touch sent her over the top.
He didn’t grope or force his tongue into her mouth. No, Kane wasn’t an overeager boy looking for an easy in. Most of her experience had been like that. Instead, he rested against her mouth for a few moments. Just long enough for her to anticipate the next move.
When it came, it left her gasping. He brushed his lips lightly across hers, back and forth, until she opened to him. Still, he didn’t force himself in. Instead he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue...and everything inside Presley tightened in response. One quick flick against her parted teeth, then he was gone.
Only then did Presley realize that her entire awareness had narrowed to the man touching her. The man she should have been scolding like a chaste maid from the seventeenth century. But no—
“How dare you?” she breathed.
He glanced down. Her gaze followed his and her cheeks started to burn.
Her hands clutched the lapels of his suit jacket, wrinkling the fabric. Her lungs strained for air as though she were a horse bellowing after a race. Her heart beat hard in her chest, the pounding of her pulse finding an embarrassing echo lower in her body.
And the man before her stood with his hands loose at his side, appearing completely unmoved.
Mortification that she could be overwhelmingly affected while he was completely cool hardened her attitude. “I told you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“I wasn’t using my hands,” he said, holding them out to his sides. “See? No harm, no foul.”
Despite herself, the deep tone of his voice gave her just a smidgen of satisfaction, even when he was lying through his teeth.
“Sir, there’s a trailer out—”
The words barely registering, Kane turned to find his stable manager, Jim Harvey, standing in the doorway of the barn. Jim’s gaze moved from Kane’s face to Presley.
His eyes widened.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt—”
“No problem,” Kane cut him off quickly. He had a feeling Presley was on the edge of bolting at any moment. He needed this to be short and simple to set her at ease.
“Jim, this is Presley Macarthur.”
Jim nodded. Recognition softened his expression, and he slipped off his cowboy hat. “Pleasure, ma’am.”
He looked back and forth between the two of them, obviously curious about what he’d walked in on but smart enough to know when something wasn’t his business.
“Give us about an hour, if you don’t mind,” Kane went on, “then load Sun up for Miss Macarthur in the trailer so she can take him home.”
Despite his confused look, Jim didn’t question Kane in front of Presley. “Yes, sir.” He turned to the woman who hadn’t spoken a word. “I’ll be right nearby, ma’am. We’ll inspect the trailer when you get back.”
“Thank you, Jim.”
Ah, they were back to the confident, businesslike voice now. Probably for the best, though the off-guard squeaky one was Kane’s favorite so far. What would she sound like if he kissed her again? Touched her more intimately? Cutting off the interesting train of thought, he offered Presley his arm and escorted her out of the stables.
They had barely stepped into the night air when she paused. “I don’t understand. You’re just gonna hand him back over to me?” She waved toward the brightly lit house. “Don’t you want to test the goods before you make that decision?”
Kane couldn’t help smirking. “I believe I already have.”
Feeling the wave of shock shoot through her, he patted her hand in a benign gesture and continued on. As they crossed the drive back to the house, Kane found himself hyperaware of the woman at his side. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, which made her taller than the average woman. She would fit right into the crook where his chest met his arm. The faint scent of honeysuckle teased his nose, an unusual perfume and one that reminded him of some of his happiest times on a horse in the countryside near his childhood home.
Honeysuckle had also grown on the edge of the yard at the house where he’d grown up before his mother died. He could still vividly remember her first attempts to teach him the gentle force needed to get the liquid from the honeysuckle flowers—and the tiny burst of sweetness on his tongue when he succeeded.
“Besides,” he continued on, “I never go back on my word. Sun will be home tonight.” They’d reached the covered side entry, and Kane paused with his hand on the doorknob. “This situation is tricky, but I know you’ll do what’s best for your family and your business.”
Blackmail wasn’t a sexy subject, but before they stepped onto the stage, Kane wanted Presley to remember exactly what was at stake here. The stiffness of her body told him more about her state of mind than her simple nod of acquiescence.
He ushered her inside with a hand at the small of her back, and the lights from the Swarovski crystal chandeliers left her blinking. In fact, her whole demeanor changed the minute they walked through the door. If someone had told him a person could become invisible, he wouldn’t have believed them—until he saw Presley practically pull off the impossible.
They’d barely made it halfway down the back breezeway when Mason and EvaMarie stepped out of the office. “Kane,” his brother called.
Only as he stopped and registered the concern on Mason’s face did Kane remember that he hadn’t taken the time to shut down his computer before storming out the door. The knowledge sat between them like a lead brick. Mason knew exactly what that email from Vanessa Gentry would have done to Kane—he’d been there when Emily had left him behind, and watched as Kane systematically let everything disappear from his life except their shared goal.
Because life was easier that way.
Hoping to ward off any questions from his impulsive sibling, Kane preempted the conversation. “Mason, this is Presley Macarthur.”
His brother blinked, then focused on the woman on Kane’s arm. “Oh, from Macarthur Haven?”