One Night With His Rival. Robyn Grady

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       Two

      “Eyes off. That means hands, too, partner.”

      Recognizing the voice at his back, Ajax edged around. Birthday girl Lanie Rawson stood there in a bright haute couture gown, hands on hips, a vigilant eyebrow raised.

      Ajax played dumb. “Eyes and hands off who exactly?”

      “If you don’t already know, the bombshell you’re ogling over there is Veda Darnel,” his sister replied. “Drake Darnel’s daughter and a good friend of mine.”

      When Ajax had gotten together with Veda four weeks ago in Saratoga, she had mentioned something about her and Lanie being tight. Frankly, in those initial few moments, he hadn’t focused on anything much other than her amazing red hair and stunning lavender evening dress. Tonight, with that hair swept over one creamy shoulder and rocking a shimmering lipstick-red number, Veda looked even more heart-stopping.

       Eyes off?

       Never gonna happen.

       Hands off?

       We’ll see.

      Crossing his arms, Ajax rocked back on his boot heels. He’d had a full day at the stables before racing out to the track in time for the “riders up” call. After a thundering win, he’d made his way to the winner’s circle to congratulate the jockey, the assistant trainer and their most recent champion, Someone’s Prince Charming. Man, he loved that horse. Then he’d shot back to the on-site office to check messages and shower before driving the extra half mile here to don a tux. But first, he’d decided to take a peek at the party that was already getting under way in a glittering tented pavilion in the backyard of the estate.

      Now, before he went inside to change, he had a question or two for Miss Lanie Bossy-Pants.

      “How did you and Veda Darnel become pals?”

      “We met at a women’s business luncheon last year,” Lanie explained, slipping her hands into the hidden pockets of her Cinderella gown. “Veda’s a life coach. She talked about personal change through action rather than words. It was brief but powerful. Actually, I was blown away. Later, she said she recalled seeing us as kids at race meets when she tagged along with her dad. And then I remembered her, too. Or, at least, I remembered her hair.”

      Like the color of leaves in late fall, Ajax thought, doing some remembering of his own, particularly images of her moving beneath him in bed that night a month ago.

      “Back then,” Lanie went on, “Veda was like a mouse in a corner. Now she knows exactly what she wants. And I’m pretty darn sure that doesn’t include being any man’s flavor of the month.”

      Ajax chuckled to cover up the wince. “I’m not that bad.”

      Lanie had a skeptical if-you-say-so expression on her face.

      “Anyway, I’m glad Veda didn’t buy into her father’s BS about all Rawsons being scum,” she said. “You know she told me once that Drake is still steaming over Mom dumping him for Dad all those years ago. Just so sad.”

      Sad was one word. But Ajax didn’t agree with Lanie. Veda had absolutely drunk the Kool-Aid when it came to believing her father’s version of events.

      During their one night together, she had gone to the mat for her father. According to Daddy Dearest, Hux was a slimy villain who had stolen Drake’s girl. Ajax had set the record straight. His mom had made her own decision—because, duh, it was hers to make—after which she had married the far better man.

      Veda had softened toward him again after that, and before vacating their suite around noon, they’d exchanged numbers. The next day, he’d sent flowers to her Best Life Now office address in Jersey. After a week not hearing from her, he’d called and left a message. A few days later, he’d sent a bigger bunch. Dialed again.

      No response.

      “She’s smart, tough and to the point,” Lanie said, looking Veda’s way through the glittering party crowd. “Not someone who’s desperate for a roll in the hay.”

      When Lanie pinned him with another look that said, Don’t go there, Ajax coughed out a laugh. “You’re seriously the sex police now?”

      His sister tossed back her long dark hair the way she did whenever she was excited, angry or digging her spurs in. “I want to make sure that we’re clear before I let you out to graze.”

      He threw her a salute. “Anything you say, Officer.”

      Lanie groaned. “Just go get changed. Not that the ladies won’t drool over you in your boots.” Walking off, his sister offered a fond grin when she added, “You’re such a tart.”