MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Read online

  They’d spent most of that weekend in bed since the day after initial introductions to Rachel his parents had left on an extended European vacation. But he’d refrained from hugging Cassie again, horrified she might think he was a creep. And discomfited to admit how nice it felt when she hugged him back.

  He gave a weary sigh. Rachel had always known how to manipulate, even managing to charm his parents. He just hadn’t realized until it was too late.

  Grace was still on the phone, telling her mother about how Digger and Cassie were so wonderful and how the brook was the very best place in the world to swim. He wished she wouldn’t go into so much detail, but he wasn’t going to confuse Grace by asking her to keep secrets. She had to deal with enough mind games from her mother. He wasn’t going to throw any more at her.

  Thankfully by the time he punched in the security code and the wide gates swung open, Grace had put away her phone.

  “Stable or house?” he asked, cruising up the smooth driveway.

  “Stable,” Grace said. “I need to check on the kittens. And Mom wants to talk to you.”

  Great. He hid his aversion and veered along the pavement toward the barn. White rails gleamed in the sun, and sleek horses nibbled at lush grass. Once this area had been his refuge, the only place his father had ever shown him any attention.

  “You’re my only son,” his father had said, tossing him a riding helmet. “And I expect you to maintain our family fortune, do your duty…and don’t ever tattle to your mom. It’s a dirty bird who shits in his own nest. Now climb up on that pony and make me proud.”

  Alex had only been six at the time, but he’d nodded solemnly. Duty meant being responsible, even when it wasn’t fun, and not tattling meant never talking about his father’s absences. And his dad loved it when he jumped his pony over big fences. “Horsemanship is in his blood,” his father would boast to his mother. Pretending they’d been riding together all day even though flowery perfume still lingered on his father’s clothes.

  And sometimes his dad actually spent a few minutes watching him ride. Equestrian sports were always the easiest way to grab the old man’s attention. One time, he and Cass had even held a circus, standing on their horses’ backs and doing all sorts of crazy tricks. His dad had been mildly impressed, moving him up to polo lessons immediately afterwards. But Alex hadn’t wanted to play polo. It was Cassie who made riding fun. He’d only wanted his father’s approval.

  Just like Grace wanted Rachel’s.

  He pulled up by the stable door. Grace was halfway out of the car before he had time to kill the engine.

  Rachel stalked from the barn as if she’d been waiting. She gave Grace a cursory kiss on the cheek—something he knew was more for his benefit than Grace’s—then waved her inside and continued toward the car.

  He lowered the window.

  “You should have told me Grace was ready to ride again,” Rachel said, her voice accusing. “Santiago can give her proper lessons.”

  “Maybe later. Right now Grace just wants to have fun.”

  “At Jake Edwards’ dump?” Rachel’s perfect nose curled in distaste. “Really, darling. There’s no need for our daughter to go slumming. She should learn from qualified instructors.”

  Alex checked the doorway, waiting until Grace was out of earshot. Generally he and Rachel tried to be civil. But she’d caused trouble for Cassie and Jake, and already his teeth were gritting.

  “What Grace needs is some fun,” he said. “With no pressure. So I’ll be driving her over to Jake’s every morning. For as long as Cassie agrees to teach her and as long as they have Digger. And don’t make Grace twisted about this. If I see any hint of conflict, hear any whisper that you’ve given her a hard time, all the polo ponies will be gone. Along with Santiago and every other one of your toys.”

  “Now you’re just being cruel.” Rachel blinked in exaggerated horror. Or maybe she wasn’t faking. Money and status meant everything to her. She hadn’t been able to find that in New York. Thank God the Sutherland lawyers had insisted on a prenup, and she was only living in the house as long as it suited him. And Grace.

  “I’m tired of your games, Rachel,” he said, wearily pressing the ignition. “And if you continue playing them with Grace, we’ll have to discuss other living arrangements.”

  “You’ve changed.” Her eyes narrowed in accusation. “And I can’t leave. We both know Grace wouldn’t enjoy spending weekends with me in a cramped apartment.” And though she pretended righteous indignation, there was a definite complacency in her voice. They both knew he would never trust a living arrangement where Rachel was alone with Grace. And Rachel would never give him sole custody. It was the perfect stalemate.

  On the positive side, Grace had both her parents. She deserved her happiness. And he was determined to give it to her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “How are Ginger’s cuts?” Gramps asked, peering up from the sofa and rubbing his eyes. “Think you’ll be able to put a saddle on her soon?”

  “Another couple days maybe,” Cassie said, as she wrapped up the extra lobster sandwiches and stuck them in the fridge. There weren’t many dishes to wash since Alex had kindly brought Gramps lunch as well. Not a lobster sandwich but a huge chicken casserole from the Sutherland kitchen. A relief really, because she had trouble finding food Gramps liked, and she feared he wasn’t eating enough calories.

  “Grace is giving her great care,” Cassie added. “She made a special ointment and brought a flysheet so we can turn her out. And Grace really likes Digger. She spent a lot of time picking grass by the brook, feeding him before she ate her own lunch.”

  “She’s a nice kid,” Gramps said. “Glad she’s having fun. But she’s not experienced enough to ride Digger alone.”

  “No,” Cassie said. “She needs a quieter horse.”

  “Even if she could handle Digger,” Gramps said, his face creasing in a scowl, “I wouldn’t want Alex to buy him. After what happened to Ginger, I don’t want any of my horses near that Rachel woman.”

  Cassie made an agreeable sound deep in her throat. She didn’t want to encourage this topic. Her grandfather was settled on the sofa and she wanted him to remain mellow. But the bloody marks on Ginger were disturbing.

  The more she looked at them, the more she questioned that they were even spur marks. They were a little too high, a little too wide. She didn’t like to consider the alternative, that they’d been deliberately inflicted. Maybe Santiago had given Rachel some elaborate Argentinean spurs. Either way, Ginger was now out of their reach. And even though Gramps needed the money, it was reassuring that he remained fussy about his buyers.

  His eyes were closed again so she tiptoed over and covered him with a light blanket. His color was a lot better today, his face not so drawn. Having Alex around seemed to be a comfort. And it wasn’t just because Alex had used his clout to remove Ginger from the black list.

  He’d always been helpful, not only with chores but the two men respected each other. And Alex stood up to Gramps in ways she never would. In fact, she was surprised Gramps had ordered Alex to stay away. She’d assumed the rift had been Alex’s decision.

  Hooves sounded outside, the pounding shattering the serenity. She hurried to the window. Digger was excited, cantering around the paddock with his tail high. And now the other three horses were all spinning circles and copying his behavior.

  Digger jerked to a stop, jammed his head over the top rail and stared down the driveway. She followed the direction of his pricked ears, wondering who was coming. Gramps didn’t get many visitors, and Alex and Grace had left almost an hour ago.

  Moments later a late-model silver truck pulling a matching trailer eased up their narrow driveway. The imposing Sutherland crest was visible on the sides. She shot a confused look at her grandfather. But he appeared to be sleeping, his breathing slow and relaxed.

  She eased the screen door open and walked toward the truck.

  The driver lowered the window and
gave an apologetic smile. “I’m a little early,” he said. “But I dropped off a horse at the polo club and it was quicker to come directly here.”

  “Come directly for what?” she asked.

  “A pickup. Isn’t this Jake Edwards’ place?”

  “Yes, but there must be a mix-up. We don’t have any horses leaving.”

  “I’ll wait.” He tugged at his ball cap, averting his gaze. “I’m only ten minutes early.”

  Cassie tilted her head, eyeing him warily. Alex had already agreed Digger wasn’t a suitable horse for Grace. And he knew she didn’t want any of Gramps’ horses going to the Sutherland barn. In fact, when Alex watched Grace doctoring Ginger’s cuts he’d displayed obvious regret, and also a hint of anger. He’d never said a word about Rachel though…just as he’d never complained about his parents.

  “Are you sure you have the address right?” she asked the driver. “What exactly did Alex say?”

  “Oh, he didn’t send me. It was Rachel.”

  Cassie squeezed her eyes shut, then crossed her arms and stepped back. “You might as well leave. We don’t have any horses for her.”

  “If you don’t mind,” the driver said, tugging the visor of his cap even lower. “I’d like to stay. She’ll be annoyed if the trailer isn’t here when she arrives.”

  Cassie gave an understanding nod. When she’d worked for the Sutherlands, Rachel had been known to fly into a rage when Alex wasn’t around to witness it. And now that she was entrenched as queen of the estate she wielded even more power.

  The driver checked his side view mirror. “She’s coming now,” he said. “Maybe you can straighten it out. Good luck,” he added.

  Cassie gave the man a grim nod and strode toward the cream Bentley.

  Rachel stepped out, still dressed in her riding clothes. Her hair was loose though, rippling like gold over her shoulders, her mouth a bold fuchsia red. Clearly she’d taken time to refresh her makeup though it wasn’t necessary. Nobody could deny her beauty.

  “I see my driver already arrived,” Rachel said. “I’m surprised our trailer fit up your little driveway.” She glanced around in contempt. “Doesn’t matter. I heard about the horse Grace rode today and I’m here to buy him.”

  “Digger isn’t suitable for a beginner,” Cassie said.

  “My daughter isn’t a beginner,” Rachel snapped. “And she can take lessons from Santiago. He’s definitely more qualified than someone like you.”

  “But Digger is trained for polo.” Cassie spoke slowly, determined to keep her temper in check. “He needs an experienced rider. He’s not safe—”

  “You people are just typical horse traders.” Rachel gave a dismissive sniff. “Always trying to drive the price up. But I don’t have time to bargain. I’ll pay fifty thousand, right now.”

  Cassie gulped. That was the amount Gramps had hoped to receive for their top horse, Ginger. But Digger wasn’t as talented and Gramps thought they’d be lucky to get thirty. And that was before Rachel had tried to smear Gramps’ name and all his horses.

  “A few days ago you said my grandfather couldn’t train horses,” Cassie said slowly. “I don’t understand. Now you want to buy one?”

  Rachel shook her head as if Cassie were dense. She reached into her car and pulled out a sleek check book. “No,” she said. “I want to buy all four. Fifty thousand each.”

  Cassie’s breath stalled. Two hundred thousand. That was more than she could save for Gramps in twenty years. More than enough to set him up for a comfortable retirement. And he wouldn’t have to lift a finger. He’d have no more animals to feed, to ride, to worry about.

  Of course, he would worry. As long as Rachel was riding his horses, he’d be sick with worry.

  Rachel’s hand posed over her check, a gold pen between her fingers. “Jake Edwards, is it?” Her voice dripped with disdain. “I don’t suppose a place like this even has a stable name.”

  The woman had a lot of gall. Driving in here and insulting Gramps’ home, his business, and not even acknowledging Ginger’s injuries. “Our mare is still healing from her cuts,” Cassie said. “From the ones you left. And by the way, they don’t exactly look like spur marks.”

  Rachel’s head jerked up. For a moment those blue eyes held a trace of fear. Then it was quickly replaced by contempt. “Don’t be stupid. Take the money. And then you can leave. Just go back to where you came from.”

  “We would never let you near Ginger again,” Cassie said, crossing her arms. “Not after what you did. I’m beginning to think you cut her deliberately, perhaps before you even mounted. What did you use, some sort of knife?”

  Rachel gave a taunting smile. “You can’t prove anything. And you’re just looking for an excuse to stay. Trying to wheedle back into Alex’s life. Well, it won’t work. He’ll never give up Grace. And he’d never put her in front of a judge.”

  Blood pounded through Cassie’s head, drowning out the sound of Rachel’s voice. Her hands clenched so tightly her nails dug into her skin. She’d tossed the knife comment out, more from anger than anything else. But Rachel had just admitted that she’d deliberately cut a horse.

  “Don’t look so shocked.” Rachel’s mocking voice seemed to come from a distance. “I took Alex from you before, and I certainly intend to keep him from you now. And there’s no need to pretend to worry about my daughter. I’d never jeopardize her on an animal that’s too spirited. Santiago will put a special bit on that Digger horse. Teach him to listen. Now, I’ll have my man lower the ramp—”

  “My horses aren’t for sale!” Gramps’ gruff voice boomed behind them. “Not to the likes of you. And you need to get off my property. Now!”

  Cassie turned. Gramps seemed to have swelled, looking more like the intimidating man who’d swept into the hospital and scooped her into his arms, all those years ago.

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t appear particularly intimidated. She just stared at Gramps, then at Cassie.

  “You’re both fools,” she said. “And you’ll regret this.” The tips of her perfectly manicured fingers ripped the check in two. Pieces of paper fluttered in the breeze then dropped to the ground.

  Rachel gestured to the driver and slid back into her car. She didn’t look at them again, or at the horses she’d come to buy. She rolled down the driveway, leaving dust clouds rising in her wake.

  Cassie bent down and picked up the pieces of littered paper. “When I first saw her,” she said, “I was sixteen. I thought she was so beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” Gramps said. His shoulders slumped and he looked small again. “I had a horse like that once. Damn good-looking. People overlook a lot of faults when something is easy on the eye. But that horse was mean to the bone. Took me awhile to accept.”

  “How can Alex deal with that?”

  “I don’t know,” her grandfather said. “Marry in haste, repent at leisure. I guess Alex is still repenting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Keep the mallet in your right hand,” Cassie said, tossing another ball on the ground. “And this time try tapping it through the goal posts. Remember there’s no top to the goal. The ball can go as high in the air as you want.”

  Grace walked up to the ball, her expression determined. She swung her mallet and whack! The ball soared through the center of the goal posts.

  It was a beautiful shot. Stomping around the field, hitting and retrieving the ball, was tiring but the ground work definitely helped. Grace had good eye-hand coordination, and now her shot had some power. Her passes were improving too. At least on foot. Those skills had yet to translate to the back of a horse and that would be more difficult, especially since Grace didn’t have a quiet horse to ride.

  Cassie noted the spot where the ball had dropped by the trees and gave Grace an encouraging thumbs-up. “See, you can learn to play with your right hand. I’ll give you some strengthening exercises that can help too.”

  Grace flashed a triumphant smile. Today she wore shorts and seemed re
laxed about showing her bare legs. “This is a great field,” Grace said, heading in the direction of the ball. “The grass is cut the perfect length. Maybe tomorrow we can try passing the ball back and forth on horses?”

  “Maybe,” Cassie said, striding beside Grace. But she shuddered to think of a rookie rider on one of Gramps’ high-powered polo ponies, loose in this big field. Grace would have difficulty keeping control, even with two hands on the reins. And when she had one hand holding a mallet, any ride would likely end in a runaway.

  “Horses are tempted by open spaces,” Cassie said, trying to be tactful. “And Thoroughbreds are bred to run. So we should wait until we find a more suitable horse. I had a lot of falls in this field. Some of them really hurt.”

  She didn’t want that to happen to Grace. It might shatter the girl’s newfound confidence. And Rachel’s fury would be unimaginable.

  “Did my dad fall off too?” Grace asked.

  “Sure. But not as much as me. My horses didn’t always stop or turn.”

  “But Dad’s did?”

  “He was a better rider,” Cassie said. “And a lot of times my job was just to canter around the field hunting for his balls.”

  But because of his constant practicing, she’d been able to raise enough money to buy a real polo saddle. Alex had always been generous. Smart too. He’d known exactly how to circumvent her grandfather’s pride. It seemed whenever she needed extra money, Alex had tack that needed cleaning or horses that required exercise.

  She’d been forty-five dollars short of buying her prom dress when he suddenly announced he needed his Porsche washed and vacuumed. “Rachel likes a clean car,’ he’d said, loud enough so Gramps would overhear. “And I don’t trust anyone but you with the paint, Cass.”