Something to Talk About. Joanne Rock

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СКАЧАТЬ Three

      Crap.

      Robbie might have turned around before he got to the door of the main house if it hadn’t been for his memory of Kiefer’s face today. He knew what it was like to want to fit in so badly—a feeling he’d wrestled with where his brothers were concerned all his life. But he hadn’t expected to show up at the house while his family was entertaining. The cars in the driveway could have been the showroom for a high-end dealership or the VIP parking lot at Saratoga or Keeneland. His parents’ friends tended to be as wealthy as they were and could afford horses even more expensive than their cars—and that was saying something.

      “Mister Robbie, we’ve been hoping you would join us.” Betsy Fuller, the Prestons’ household manager, held the door of the sprawling redbrick house wide, her simple dress more that of a maid than of a woman earning the fat salary Robbie knew she collected for running a property bigger than some country clubs.

      It was part of Betsy’s charm that she’d never commented on family politics or Robbie’s long absences. She had open arms and extra place settings for anyone who showed up on the doorstep and it was one of the many reasons everyone adored her.

      “I didn’t know they were entertaining tonight or I wouldn’t have shown up in work clothes.” Beyond Betsy, Robbie could see the candles lit throughout the downstairs, giving the place a festive look despite the heavy dark wood of the moldings and banisters, the rich burgundies and reds of the upholstered furniture. He knew all the guests would be out having cocktails on the veranda before dinner and he planned to make sure he avoided the family at all costs.

      “If you hurry, you can change before they sit down.” She checked her watch to make sure and then winked at him. “I can usually talk Judge Parker into an extra bourbon before dinner.”

      “Thanks, but I can’t stay. I just came to speak to Amanda Emory if she’s here.” He stepped deeper into the front hall, peering around as if she might come into view any second. “Have you met the new office manager?”

      “Of course I have.” Betsy appeared mightily offended at the idea that she would ever be unaware of family business. “She’s out back with the family for cocktails, son. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed?”

      Robbie had left some clothes here when he’d moved out earlier in the week, so technically, he could make an appearance. But damn it, he wasn’t going to play the family game of pretending he belonged here when they’d made it all too clear to him that he wasn’t good enough to take on a big role at Quest.

      “No thanks.” He shook his head, regretting more than anything that he had to disappoint Betsy. She’d never treated him any differently than anyone else in the family. “Would you mind just letting her know that I’m here if I promise to have her back before you move into the dining room?”

      If Betsy had an opinion on that, she kept it to herself, settling for a quick nod.

      “I’ll pass along the message.”

      She hurried off through the house while Robbie waited out front, the strains of a violin mingling with laughter from the veranda. His eyes went to the portraits of horses lining the walls. In other rooms, there were photographs and paintings of people. But here in the foyer there were horses dating back to Hugh Preston’s earliest days at Aqueduct Racetrack in Queens where he’d first studied horses and made his earliest bets. There was a photo of Hugh with Clare’s Quest, the little filly who’d brought his first big win.

      Marching across the hunter-green walls were paintings of Old Barley, the stallion that had given Hugh a win at Saratoga to finance the family’s move to Kentucky, followed by more horses that had all added to a family fortune spread across two continents. There weren’t many portraits of horses from Robbie’s cousins’ farm in Hunter Valley, Australia, but there were a few. He looked at them now instead of thinking about Amanda Emory’s potential reaction to his visit.

      “Robbie?”

      Her voice surprised him, even though he’d been expecting her.

      He turned to find a far more sophisticated woman than he remembered. Her pretty dark hair and eyes were the same, but the outfit she wore… Damn it, he had no business taking in the soft curves of her slender frame, but the simple strapless blue cocktail dress she wore seemed to demand it. She’d thrown a yellow lace shawl around her shoulders, but it didn’t hide much of anything. Another hint of lace peeked out below the dress’s knee-length hem, accentuating her legs and drawing his gaze much too low.

      Hell.

      “Sorry to take you away from the group.” He launched into conversation to recover from the awkward moment. “I won’t keep you.”

      He waited for her to run away from him, as she had that day by the practice yard, or to come up with some excuse why she couldn’t speak to him, since he supposed she’d been influenced by popular opinion regarding his character. Instead, she smiled warmly, the way he remembered from the first time he’d seen her.

      “Actually, I’m really glad to see you.”

      He wondered if his eyes widened as much as he felt they did.

      Probably they did, since she laughed.

      “I mean it. And I’m sorry if I seemed short with you the day we met, but it’s stressful starting a new job and I worried about taking time away to oversee Kiefer.”

      She smelled delicious—like flowers and maybe vanilla. He wanted to lean in for a more definitive sniff.

      “He’s a great kid.” He wanted to make it clear that he didn’t mind Kiefer’s presence around the stables.

      And he definitely wanted to remember why he was here since it didn’t have anything to do with ogling a woman he had no business pursuing.

      “Thank you.” She smiled with maternal pleasure and managed to look even more beautiful than she had two minutes ago. “I’m very proud of both my boys but sometimes it’s hard to step back from the day-in and day-out worries to appreciate how really great they are. I’m fortunate.”

      “You have two sons?” Robbie knew Kiefer hadn’t mentioned a brother, but the boy had been fairly wrapped up in learning about horses all week.

      “Max is six and Kiefer is nine. And actually, I’ve been meaning to seek you out to thank you for the time you’ve spent with Kiefer this week. He feels more sure of himself at school now that he can talk about horses without sounding like a total outsider.”

      “That’s why I’m here.” Robbie lowered his voice as one of the maids hurried through the foyer with a vase of flowers. No doubt they were trying to get the dining room prepped for the meal. The laughter of the cocktail crowd drifted through the halls.

      “He’s starting to get underfoot? I can—”

      “No. Nothing like that.” He put a hand on top of her fluttering one, a reflex reaction to her concern that suddenly drop-kicked him in the libido. The feel of her soft skin under his palm sent a surge of heat clean through him, the awareness a palpable thing between them.

      She stilled, frozen, her hand in midair beneath his. He would have moved away faster if he could have sent the proper set of messages along his neurons, but his body didn’t seem to obey. He stood there for a long moment, absorbing СКАЧАТЬ