She shook her head. “No.”

“Just a crush then?”

“It’s nothing.”

Alec dropped his hand from the rail as Wesley and Rockfire sailed over the first jump. “It’s something.”

She glared at him. “It’s none of your business, is what it is.”

He stared back for a silent minute.

His eyes were dark. His lips were parted. And a fissure of awareness suddenly sizzled through her. No.

Not Alec.

It was Wesley she wanted.

“You’re right,” Alec conceded into the long silence. “It is none of my business.”


None of his business, Alec reminded himself.

Back inside her house that evening, he found himself staring at Stephanie’s likeness in a framed cover of Equine Earth magazine that was hanging on the living room wall. The fact that her silver-blue eyes seemed to hide enchanting secrets, that her unruly, auburn hair begged for a man’s touch and that the light spray of freckles across her nose lent a sense of vulnerability to an otherwise flawless face, was none of his damn business.

The equestrian trophy in her hand, however, was his business, as was the fact that the Ryder name was sprayed across the cover of a nationally circulated magazine.

“That was at Carlton Shores,” came her voice, its resonance sending a buzz of awareness up his spine.

“Two thousand and eight,” she finished, coming up beside him.

He immediately caught the scent of fresh brewed coffee, and looked over to see two burgundy, stoneware mugs in her hands.

“You won,” he stated unnecessarily.

She handed him one of the mugs. “You seem like a ‘black’ kind of a guy.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her accurate assessment. “Straight to the heart of the matter,” he agreed.

“I take cream and sugar.” She paused. “Dress it up as much as you can, I guess.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

She was in a business that was all pomp, glitz and show. Oh, she worked hard at it. There was no way she would have made it this far if she hadn’t. But her division of Ryder International certainly wasn’t the bedrock of the company’s income stream.

He took a sip of the coffee. It was just the way he liked it, robust, without being sharp on the tongue.

She followed suit, and his gaze took a tour from her damp, freshly washed hair, pulled back in a sensible braid, to her clingy, white tank top and the pair of comfortable navy sweatpants that tapered down to incongruous lime-green socks.

“Nice,” he observed.

She grinned, sticking a foot forward to show it off. “Royce brought them back for me from London. Apparently they’re all the rage.”

“You’re making a fashion statement?”

“Everything else was in the laundry,” she admitted. “I’m kind of lazy that way.”

“Right. Lazy. That was the first thing I thought when I met you.” It was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, and she’d only just stopped work to come in and shower for dinner.

“I’m going to assume that was sarcasm.”

“The outfit works,” he told her sincerely. Quite frankly, with her compact curves and toned muscles, she’d make a sackcloth work just fine.

She rolled her eyes. “Can I trust anything you say?”

Alec found himself captivated by the twinkle in her blue irises and the dark lips that contrasted with her creamy skin. She was charming and incredibly kissable, and he had to ruthlessly pull himself back to business.

“Are you aware that Ryder Equine Center has next to no income?” he asked, his blunt tone an admonishment of himself, not her.

When the sparkle vanished from her eyes, he told himself it was for the best.

“We make money,” she asserted.

“A drop in the bucket compared to what you spend.” Sure, they sold a few horses, boarded a few horses and took in tuition from students. And Stephanie had won some cash prizes in jumping competitions over the years. But the income didn’t begin to compare with the massive expenditures necessary to run this kind of operation.

She gestured to the magazine cover. “And there’s that.”

“Nobody’s disputing that you win.”

“I mean the marketing value. That’s the front cover of Equine Earth. It was a four page article. Check out the value of that on the open market.”

“And how many potential lessees of Chicago office tower space do you suppose read Equine Earth magazine?”

“Plenty. Horse jumping is a sport of the rich and famous.”

“Have you done an analysis of the demographics of the Equine Earth readership?”

Her lips compressed, and she set her coffee mug down on a table.

Alec regretted that she’d stopped smiling, but he forced himself to carry on. “I have no objection to assigning a value to marketing efforts-”

“Well thank you so much, oh guru of the framework for overseas economic regions.”

“Hey, I’m trying to have a professional-”

The front door cracked sharply as it opened, and Alec instantly clamped his mouth shut. He turned to see Royce appear in the doorway, realizing how loud his and Stephanie’s voices had risen.

But Royce’s smile was easy, his nod friendly. Obviously they hadn’t been overheard.

“Hey, Royce.” Stephanie went to her brother, voice tone down, smile back in place.

Royce gave her a quick hug, then he turned his attention to Alec. “Am I interrupting something?”

“We were talking about my career,” Stephanie chirped. “The publicity Ryder Equestrian Center brings to the entire corporation.” She looked to Alec for confirmation.

He nodded, grateful she seemed willing to keep their spat private.

“Did you show him the video?” Royce asked.

Stephanie looked instantly wary. “He doesn’t need to see the video.”

Royce set her aside and strode into the room. “Sure he does. What better way to understand your career. Got any popcorn?”

“We haven’t had dinner yet. I’m not-”

“Then let’s grill some burgers.” Royce pushed up the sleeves of his cotton, Western shirt. “I could use a burger. How about you, Alec?”

“Sure. Burgers sound good.” So did watching videos of Stephanie, especially since she seemed hesitant. Did she have something to hide?

“Well, I’m not sticking around for this,” Stephanie warned.

“Aren’t you hungry?” asked Royce.

She stuck her freckled nose in the air. “I’ll get something at the cookhouse.”

“Suit yourself,” said Royce, and Alec caught the faintest glimpse of satisfaction on the man’s face.

What was going on here?

Stephanie stuffed her feet into a pair of worn leather boots, shrugged into a chunky gray sweater and stomped out the door.

“I thought she’d never leave,” said Royce.

Alec peered at the man. “What’s going on?”

Royce turned down the short passage to the kitchen. “We’re grilling burgers and watching family videos.”

Twenty minutes later, Alec bit into a juicy, flavorful burger. He had to admit, Royce really knew his way around an outdoor grill. Alec was starving, and the burger was fabulous, slathered in fried onions, topped with a thick slice of garden fresh tomato, and encased in what had to be a homemade bun.

Beside him in the opposite armchair, Royce clicked the remote control on the television. “If anyone asks,” he said, settling down to his own dinner. “We were simply eating burgers and watching home videos.”

Chewing and swallowing, Alec glanced from their plates to the television and back again. “No problem. I’ve got your back.”

Royce nodded.

They made their way through their meals as a young, red-haired Stephanie bounced over foot high jumps on a white pony. Her small hands were tight on the reins, her helmet was slightly askew, and her face was screwed up in determination as she cleared the rails.

Alec couldn’t help but smile, and he wondered why Stephanie objected to him watching. She was adorable.

In his short time he’d spent down at the main house on the Ryder Ranch with Royce and his fiancée, Amber, Alec definitely got the sense that both Royce and Stephanie’s oldest brother Jared were in the habit of indulging her. Looking at this video, and knowing the age difference between Stephanie and her two brothers, it was easy to see how that had happened.

Turning toward a crisscrossed jump, the pony gathered itself. Stephanie stood in the stirrups, leaning across its neck. The animal’s front legs lifted off the ground, back feet kicking out. The pair sailed over the white painted rails, jolting to the dirt on the other side.

The horse came to a halt, but Stephanie kept going, flying over its head, arms flailing as she catapulted forward, thudding into the dirt. Luckily the horse veered to one side, stepping neatly around her little body.

Jared and Royce both ran into the frame. The two teenagers gingerly turned their sister over, talking to her-though Alec couldn’t make out the words-brushing the dirt from her little face.

She sat up. Then she nodded, bracing herself on Jared’s shoulder and coming to her feet.

Her brothers kept talking, but she shook her head, walking determinedly toward the pony, taking the reins, and circling around to mount. She was too short to put her foot in the stirrup, so Royce gave her a leg up.

Jared kept arguing, looking none too happy. But Stephanie got her way. She turned the horse, heading to the end of the arena. The camera followed her as she restarted the course.

Alec shook his head, his feelings a cross between admiration and amusement.

Suddenly Royce set his plate aside and lifted the remote control, muting the sound.

Alec turned his attention.

“There’s something you need to know.” Though Royce’s tone was even, his expression was narrowed and guarded.

Alec arched a brow.

“This needs to be kept in the strictest confidence,” Royce warned.