Worth the Risk (6 page)

Stephen raised and lowered the weights in each hand, counting out another set, barely noticing the million-dollar view from his home gym. Finishing, he set them down and moved to the incline bench for crunches. The stock exchange tape from Friday’s closing ran across the bottom of the muted flatscreen and each time his body rose, he made a mental note of the information. Just because it was Saturday didn’t mean he couldn’t work.

He breathed out forty-eight when his cell rang. He grabbed it on the third buzz. “Hello.”

“Hi, Stephen. It’s Abby.”

“Hey. What’s going on? Everything okay?” She’d never called him before, couldn’t imagine why she ever would.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Everyone’s fine, but I’m kind of in a bind and I wondered if you could help me.”

“Sure.” Relieved, he picked up a towel. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’m supposed to take Gracie out to ride horses with Hannah today, but my car won’t start and Matt’s buried in renovation problems. I was wondering if you could give us a ride. I assume you know where it is.”

Yes. He knew, though not for the reason she thought.

“If you’re busy, I understand,” Abby said. “I can call Tony, or your dad. I just thought of you first.”

“Hannah knows you’re coming?”

“Of course. She invited us at the party, remember?”

And then honored that invite in spite of what he’d done. “I’m happy to help you, Abby, but Hannah and I…we aren’t together.”

“Oh. Well, shoot.”

An awkward silence followed.

He had no excuse. Even had an SUV gathering dust next to his Porsche. He sank onto the bench and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I can still take you.”

“Really? I hate to ask, but Gracie’s so excited. She’s been counting the days.”

“No problem.”

It
shouldn’t
be a problem.

Gracie skipped along beside him as they walked to the barn, so overflowing with sunshine and rainbows, you couldn’t help but get splattered with it. The three of them passed a stocky gray-haired man carrying a young boy in his arms. A boy with no hands, but rounded nubs of skin several inches below the bend in both elbows.

“Mommy, did you see—”

Abby pulled Gracie along when she would have stopped. “Don’t stare, baby.”

“But Mommy, what—”

“He lost his hands somehow,” Abby said softly.

Hannah had told him what she did, but it hadn’t really registered. He hadn’t pictured children with missing limbs.

The car door opened and closed behind them and Gracie turned her head. “He looked sad. I’d be sad too if I lost pieces.”

Gracie’s innocent words twisted hard in his stomach. His youngest brother had
lost a piece
and J.T. was well past sad. A second later, they reached the barn and Hannah stepped out of the shadows.

“Hi, Abby. Hi, Gracie.” She greeted them with that bright, open smile he loved, the one that went all the way to her eyes and made them sparkle. Until she saw him and the smile slipped, sparkle gone.

“Gracie needed a ride, so I…” He gestured lamely at the obvious. It had been a week since he’d seen her. A week of trying to get her face out of his mind. A woman who obviously hadn’t expected to ever see him again. Well, he hadn’t expected it either. Or the kick in his chest when he did. But here he was, and he couldn’t say he was completely unhappy about it.

“Thank you so much for this,” Abby said, picking up the conversation.

“You’re welcome.” Hannah smiled at Abby, then looked down at Gracie. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“No, but I always wanted to so, so,
so
bad.”

“Well, why don’t we walk around and you can meet everyone first.” Hannah took her hand and Gracie half walked, half skipped as the two of them moved deeper into the barn.

“She’s sweet,” Abby said, just loud enough for him.

“Yes.”

“You could use some sweet in your life.”

He wasn’t sure about that. Stephen followed Abby’s gaze, taking in the surroundings that he’d missed before. The barn was worn but clean. A few full hay bales were pushed against the wall like benches. A plastic caddy with various horse-grooming tools sat on one closest.

“I’m glad you came to Gracie’s party. So was she.”

“It was nice.”

The girls came back, leading a small whitish horse.

Hannah patiently showed Gracie where to stand and where not to. Showed her how to run the brush along Hazel’s body, following the pattern of hair. She named each piece of equipment, letting Gracie help when she could, then talked his niece through the mounting.

“Abby, there’s a bench under a shade tree where you can watch,” Hannah said. “Can I get you a water?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Gracie sat straight and proud, bits of brown curls sticking out from under the black velvet riding helmet. “Uncle Stephen, watch me.”

“Watching.”

Gracie took the reins as shown and Hannah led them to the fenced-in riding area.

“You like her,” Abby said as they walked to a bench with a view.

“Of course I like her. She’s my niece.”

Abby made a face. “You know what I mean.”

Yeah. He knew.

Minutes passed as they watched the figures in the ring. The horse shuffled through the red dirt, hooves sinking, kicking bits of sandy earth with each slow step. Several poles striped with colors rested on the ground, others stood upright and crossed to make an X. He wondered again if the land Dave was interested in was adjacent to hers, and if it sold how it would affect her.

It wasn’t a fancy place, didn’t have to be. Not like the rehab facility he’d secured out west for his youngest brother. It burned he had nothing to offer other than money. And on his last trip out, J.T. had made it clear he didn’t even want that.

He noticed other equipment. Bells attached to colorful poles and hooks with plastic rings the size a child would toss in a game. What she did here was important, meaningful.

“I’m surprised you’re giving up so easily.”

“Who says I’m giving up?”

Exchanging Abby’s questions for a closer view of Hannah, he made his way down to the rail circling the riding area. He wasn’t giving up. He was trying to do the right thing.

A stiff wind brought the smell of animal and earth. It also lifted the hair of the woman he couldn’t look away from, and blew it around her face. That initial punch at seeing her again lingered, growing stronger instead of fading. He wanted to hear that voice talking to him, wanted to see her laughing and smiling because of him. Dangerous thoughts for a man who had little need for a woman outside the bedroom.

He’d made every effort not to think about her. Had even gone out with another woman last night. But he hadn’t wanted to listen to social gossip, hadn’t wanted to look at her heavily made-up face, or strips of beaded silk that begged him to touch and left nothing to the imagination. He’d thought of Hannah, imagined it was her sitting across from him. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself, subtle or otherwise. If anything, she hid. But, still, there was an allure about her, a magic. Like she’d put a spell on him.

“She’s a natural,” Hannah told Abby, leading horse and rider back to the barn.

“I really appreciate you letting her ride.” Abby reached for her purse. “How much do I owe you?”

Hannah held up a hand. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ve got it.” Stephen went for his wallet.

“No.” Hannah met his gaze evenly, her tone final.

“Well, thank you.” Abby brushed her fingers through Gracie’s curls. “Maybe you can come over to the house again.”

“Do you want to?” Gracie piped up. “You could be friends with my mom.”

“We’d love to have you,” Abby added, in her easy way. “Or maybe we could go for lunch.”

Hannah responded with a soft smile of her own. “I’d like that. And Gracie’s welcome anytime. I mean it.”

“Yes, yes,
yes!
I want to come again.”

Gracie was still hopping when the sound of a car pulling up made them all turn.
Matt.

His brother joined them, kissed his wife’s cheek, then laid a hand on Gracie’s head. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Daddy!” Gracie jumped and latched onto his side. “I rode a horse! She’s Hazel and I rode her!”

“Is that right?” Matt pulled his daughter up and into his arms and gave Abby one of those married-people looks. The kind you shared with that one person who knows you better than anyone. “Everything okay?”

“It’s great.” Abby slid her arm around her husband’s back.

Stephen took in his brother. Clean-shaven, fresh clothes. “I thought you were—”

“He finished early,” Abby said quickly. “I called him, and see”—she patted his chest before he could speak—“he came right out to get us. So, you don’t have to take us home. You can stay or…whatever. I think my car needs a new battery, honey. We should go check that out. Now
.
”

Yeah. Abby the innocent was not so innocent. But how would she—Lizzy. Damn nosy sister. Matt walked his wife to the car and lifted Gracie onto his shoulders, her little-girl giggle wafting on the air. Leaving him alone with a woman he wanted, but shouldn’t want, who clearly didn’t want him.

As Matt’s truck drove away, a powder-blue van pulled in.

“Oh, no.” Hannah tracked the van as it parked.

Her brows were drawn together, her hair slightly mussed around her face like she’d just rolled out of bed. Or
in
a bed, and damn it, he wanted to touch her. Wanted that right. “What’s wrong?”

“I left a message. They must not have gotten it.” She shook her head. “Lexie’s not here today and Toby’s too big for me to manage by myself.”

A woman stepped out of the van and waved a shaky hand before going around to the passenger door.

“He’s going to be so disappointed.”

Stephen couldn’t imagine anyone looking more disappointed than Hannah did right now. Except maybe when she’d stood in his brother’s kitchen doorway. She’d had the same fallen look then, maybe worse.

“I’ll help you,” Stephen said, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “If you’ll let me.”

She hadn’t really wanted his help, but the alternative would have been to ask him to leave and disappoint an eight-year-old boy who lived a life of disappointment.

So she’d taken what Stephen offered and he’d done everything she’d asked. His hands were large but gentle, lifting Toby’s body into the saddle and taking him down when they were finished. He’d walked along on the right side as directed, while she led horse and rider through a series of maneuvers and games.

Now it was just the two of them in the quiet of the barn. Stephen had shed his polo, and the white T-shirt he wore beneath stretched deliciously across his chest. Even hotter than she’d imagined when she’d tried not to imagine him. Just watching him run his fingers through his damp hair was hot. He’d worked up a light sweat, making the fabric mold to the definition of his body. The muscles in his back flexed and his biceps strained against the cotton sleeves when he hung the special saddle where she pointed high on the wooden post.

God had been good to Stephen McKinney, blessing him with a sharp mind and charm, the body of an athlete, and a face so carefully carved, a girl might miss the rest. That he was a player, too hot, too skilled, and way too dangerous for her.

“Hannah?” He looked at her amused, his lips pulling up on one side, bringing out a faint dimple and a twinkle in his eye. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Obviously she’d been caught staring and she threw the word out behind her and bolted from the tack room.

He followed. “So, you’re finished?”

“What? For the day? No. I mean…” God, he made her tongue-tied and twisted. “I don’t have any more students, but I have more stuff to do.”

“Okay. I’ll help.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You know how to muck a stall?”

“I’m pretty sure I could learn.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Especially if I had a nice teacher.”

Yes, she was sure he could. Was probably a master at everything he did. But she eyed him, uncertain what to make of his sudden interest. He should have left an hour ago. He’d leave eventually anyway, and would most likely never come back.

While she debated, he took the decision out of her hands, grabbed a rake, and got busy. Probably how he approached everything in life, in business. With women. Self-assured, confident, in charge.

She looped a rope around Hazel’s neck and led her through the back of the barn to a turnout paddock. She did the same with two others so they could clean the stalls, then returned for the last one.

“Mr. Ed, huh. Do you talk?”

She stopped at the sound of Stephen’s deep voice and watched him scratch the old chestnut’s forehead.

“Oh, really? She said that about me?” He flashed her a wicked grin.

So heart-stoppingly gorgeous it was almost painful. But even then she couldn’t stop the sudden smile. And that’s why he was dangerous.

They worked in silence, only the scrape of shovel against concrete and the rustling of fresh hay. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel when his eyes met hers, when their bodies came within a breath of touching. A man she’d been attracted to, was
still
attracted to. A man she’d thought was interested in her and then found out he wasn’t.

But one thing she did know was fear, and that was strangely absent when she was with Stephen.

“So does this count as a kid’s physical therapy?”

“For some it does. A person might benefit from riding in general, versus going to a certified physical therapist using horseback riding specifically for therapy. That would be hippotherapy. It’s usually covered by insurance and though it might not replace everything done in PT, it covers most of it.”

He scooped a section of soiled hay. “Which are you?”

“On paper I’m a physical therapist, out here I guess I’m both. I have a blind student. I’m not really doing physical therapy, but feeling the horses, the tack, smelling them…it’s good for her. Just being outside, going places she couldn’t go on her own.”

When she looked up, Stephen was staring. “Sorry. I tend to go on and I probably already told you that.”

He leaned his shovel against the wall. “You didn’t and I wanted to hear it.” He looked at her another beat. “It’s good. What you do here. It’s special.”

Wow. His praise meant more to her than it should. “Thanks.” Uncomfortable with his intense stare, she fumbled with the stall latch like it needed attention until she heard Stephen pick up his tool and start again.

“I have a brother.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You have a lot of brothers.” Something they had in common.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “But my youngest brother, J.T….he lost his leg, part of his leg, just over a year ago. Car accident.”

She stopped and studied him, staring at the hay, looking like a giant weight was pressing on his shoulders. Maybe that’s why he was here, seeking help for his brother. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

He went back to work and she took it as a signal he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. A second later, a clap of thunder rumbled and rolled. When she stepped from the stall, the open barn doors revealed a darkened sky, pressing down in an angry gray on the fields and beyond. “I better get the horses.”

Another boom of thunder sounded as she grabbed a lead rope.

“Toss me one.”

Hannah directed him to retrieve Winnie while she went after Roma. She whistled and clucked, approaching him slowly.

“Go on ahead,” she called to Stephen. “Third stall on the right. Her name’s on the door.”

Stephen disappeared and she continued to stalk the horse around the edges of the paddock. “It’s okay, boy. Don’t you want to go inside?” Each time she got close, the weather conspired against her and he shied away. A cool downdraft lifted his jet-black mane and brought pieces of her own hair across her face. A streak of lightning split the heavens just before the earth shook and the first fat raindrops fell.

“Come on, now. Be a good boy.” But Roma was rarely a good boy and bringing him in was never easy. She’d only taken him on as a boarder because she needed the money.

She had him stopped against the fence, but there was no way she could box him in enough that he couldn’t jerk away. She stroked his neck, speaking soft nonsense as she ran the rope across the animal’s quivering shoulders.

Roma’s eyes flashed and she caught the movement behind her.
Stephen.
He stepped in front of the horse, his tall, wide body giving her the edge she needed.

With a firm grip, she headed for the barn. The rain stung her cheeks and another flash slashed the sky in two. Roma rose in a half rear, ripping the nylon through her wet hand. She spun to make a grab for him and saw Stephen had looped his rope also and still had a solid hold. He jogged, bringing the horse along at a trot, leaving her to follow.

She slid the barn doors closed against the blowing sheets of rain while Stephen led Roma to his stall. With the latch secured he faced her, a smile playing across his lips. “Well, that was fun.”

Yes. And the image of Stephen standing in her barn in a wet T-shirt would be burned into her brain for all time.

She dipped into the tack room for some towels. When she turned, Stephen was there, filling the doorway and blocking her exit with his broad shoulders. How would he feel under her hands? Hard and hot over smooth? He leaned against the wood, making no move to let her by. And there was no way she could slide past without touching him.

There were a million things in this room she could distract herself with. She could fold or refold blankets, wipe down tack. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her. She followed the drops of water that slid along the planes of his face. Down his neck until they met the wet fabric plastered to his chiseled upper body like a second skin. Yep, definitely more athlete than boardroom.

He stepped forward, crowding her back until her spine hit the wall behind her. The heat from his body steamed between them and chill bumps broke out along her arms. The towels hung forgotten at her side. She should move away. But, with the way he was studying each and every inch of her face, like he was looking even deeper—she couldn’t.

“You know…” he said softly, taking a towel from her hand. “I think they orchestrated this. Matt and Abby.”

He moved closer, just a fraction, and her heart rate tripled.

“Well, maybe not Matt. More likely Abby and Lizzy.”

He was so close she could see the black of his pupils against the rich brown. Saw the beginnings of a dark shadow along his carved jawline. And she could smell him. An indescribable delicious male scent. “Why?”

“Because they like you.” He ran the cotton up her arms and over her shoulders, stopping at her neck. He braced one hand on the wall behind her, leaned in, and lowered his head until his breath tickled her ear. “I like you too.”

The hard rain pounded the roof of the barn like her heart pounded inside her. He closed the remaining space until his solid chest came within a breath of her chilled nipples. She shivered again, flattened her palms against him, feeling his heat. His body flexed under her hands, but after a long deep breath and a heavy sigh, he straightened.

“I want to see you again. Tomorrow.”

Her stomach flipped with a new kind of fear and she was reminded of all the ways she could be hurt. “I didn’t think I was the kind of girl—”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes held hers, the regret clear in his serious brown eyes. “I was wrong. I am interested. More than interested, though I’m so far from the type of man you should be with I shouldn’t even be standing here. Yet here I am, asking for another chance.”

God, what could she say to that when she didn’t know what type he was or what type she needed? Suddenly it didn’t matter what he’d said. Didn’t matter that he’d crushed her hope before she’d even known what she was hoping for. Stephen looked at her and none of that mattered.

All she knew was she wanted to touch him. Wanted to take his face in her hands and feel the rough shadow over his angled jaw. Wanted to stare into eyes so hot they melted her. Terrified her.

“Hannah…” His hand came down to lightly caress her throat.

“Don’t. Please.” She dropped her gaze from a man too used to getting what he wanted, too used to
being
wanted. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not.”

But she went on, desperate to make him understand. “Because I can’t play, I don’t know how.” And she didn’t want to. She wanted someone to share her life with, someone to want her. When she found him it wouldn’t be a game. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, I want to see you again.”

He gazed down at her, still so serious, but with a soft expression and she sighed. “I can’t. I’m busy tomorrow.”

His brow arched, obviously displeased. “Really?”

“Yes. I’m watching one of my students. We’re going to the Butterfly House at the boardwalk.”

“What time? I’ll drive you.”

“Eleven, but…no. That’s not what I—”

“You still don’t trust me.”

It was a statement, and in many ways it was true. In others, and for reasons she didn’t understand, it wasn’t.

Stephen tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Then I guess I’m going to have to work harder.”

The low rumble of his voice combined with the brush of his hand sent sparks flaring through her. He moved back, allowed her breathing room but speared her with a long, deliberate look.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave her a wink and then he was gone.