Platinum Cowboy. Rita Herron
Читать онлайн книгу.
of the beasts.
“So what do you think?” Flint asked.
She reached out and stroked the taller of the bays. “They’re incredible. Of course, I’ll conduct some tests, but I think you made a wise choice.”
When she angled her head to look at him, he was smiling. “I’m glad you appreciate my animals.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart tripping as she met his gaze. Of course she did. The fact that he was a talented, cutting-edge breeder and an intelligent rancher and businessman wasn’t in question.
The fact that he cunningly used people to ensure his own personal success was. His choices had driven him to ruin her father and others.
That was why she needed to take him down.
FLINT’S CHEST SWELLED with Lora Leigh’s compliment, even though an odd tone tinged her words, as if giving him praise pained her.
But why?
He’d read her résumé and files. She was smart—possibly brilliant—and specialized in equine care.
And she was a horse whisperer. That hadn’t been in her file, but it was obvious by the way the animals had quieted the moment she entered the barn. Her quiet, melodic voice had mesmerized them.
As it did him.
Workwise, they would make an incredible team.
But there was definitely an underlying tension between them, a disdain for him, which he couldn’t ignore. Besides, he wasn’t looking for a partner—just an employee who could complement his staff.
His cell phone trilled, jarring him from his thoughts. The chestnut Arabian whinnied and started to kick at the stall. Flint excused himself and stepped outside to check the phone number. The police.
Maybe they had information about who had sabotaged his shipment and killed his men. “Flint McKade speaking.”
“Mr. McKade, this is Detective Brody Green. I’d like to talk to you today.”
“Do you have a lead on who attacked my plane?”
“Let’s discuss it in person. I’ll be at your house at noon. Meet me then.”
Flint agreed and hung up, although anxiety knotted his gut. Knowing he had an enemy put him on edge.
He glanced back at the barn, then across his land. Overhead in the distance, he spotted a lone vulture soaring above a copse of trees, its talons bared, as if preparing to swoop down and attack, reminding him that he had a stalker of his own.
Was it possible that one of his own employees had sabotaged him? Had they wanted the Arabians or just to hurt his business?
Who had it in for him? Was it someone he knew and trusted, someone who worked for him or for a competitor?
He mentally ticked down a list.
His half brother, Tate, who hated him because Tate was a leech and Flint had cut him off financially? Lawrence McElroy, because Flint had outbid him for Diamond Daddy? Someone who didn’t like his connections to Viktor and the Middle East?
He hated to suspect his own men, people he considered part of his family, but having money meant making enemies, and he obviously had garnered at least one.
He had to figure out who it was before anyone else got hurt.
HE STUDIED THE DIAMONDBACK mansion from his horse. Dammit, how had things gone so wrong at the airport? Nobody was supposed to die that night.
But someone had betrayed him, and that was the cost.
He just hoped to hell that Flint McKade and the police didn’t figure out what was going on.
But the murders had attracted the attention of the cops. Not a good sign.
He had to do something to distract them, throw them off the scent.
First, he’d hack into McKade’s files, doctor a few things, then sabotage the ranch.
And if anyone interfered, he’d get rid of them, just as he had the men on the plane.
Nothing was going to get in his way now. McKade would go down, one way or the other.
And he’d be laughing as the arrogant bastard fell.
Flint pocketed the phone, then stepped back inside the barn. Lora Leigh was talking to the chestnut in a soothing voice that he could barely discern. Iron Legs slowly calmed, pressing his nose into her hand as she continued to whisper to him.
Flint hated to interrupt the moment, but he needed to finish the tour and get back to the house before the detective arrived. “Lora Leigh, we should probably move along. I have to meet the police at the house at noon.”
She checked her watch and nodded, unable to suppress the faint glow to her cheeks, which hadn’t been there before. “Did they find out who tried to sabotage your shipment?”
“The detective didn’t say. Maybe he’ll tell me more in person.” He gestured toward the exit and followed her back to the truck. She had to climb up to get inside, and he almost reached out to give her a lift. But the sight of her tight butt in those jeans made his body twinge, and he knew if he touched her, he might go too far.
Gritting his teeth, he hurried around to the driver’s side, then drove toward one of the race tracks. The truck rumbled over the graveled road. The sun was beginning to heat up as noon approached.
A slight breeze ruffled the trees and stirred the intoxicating scent of the outdoors as he parked in front of the racetrack. “I wanted you to see where we begin training our hopefuls.”
A young black quarter horse with white markings on its face trotted inside the arena, its lean body and long legs silhouetted by the brilliant sunshine. A trainer worked with the animal, another led a roan outside and a gray stallion whinnied and bolted away from its trainer inside the paddock.
“He looks like he lives up to the Thoroughbred’s reputation, hot-blooded,” Lora Leigh murmured.
Flint tensed, his own blood heating as he watched her. The transformation from ice queen when she looked at him to gentlewoman when she studied the horses, intrigued him. She might be small, but she was a natural horsewoman.
He suddenly itched to have her look at him with that same softness, with admiration, but quickly tamped down the thought. He’d given her a job because he felt bad about her father. Becoming involved with an employee was strictly against his rules.
“We just got him, but he’s one of our most promising, ” Flint said.
“He’ll be worth the work,” Lora Leigh added.
Flint nodded. “The feisty, independent ones are the most challenging but the most rewarding.”
Her gaze swung to his, and her eyes flickered with some indefinable emotion. He wondered if she had grasped his underlying meaning, then chastised himself.
A second ago, he’d latched on to his control.
But in spite of his resolve, she stirred desires he hadn’t felt in a long time, including the need to understand a woman, to really know her, not just lose himself between her legs and in her body.
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and his mouth watered.
He had to admit he’d like to do that, too.
“They remind me of the prickly pear,” he murmured, unable to tear his gaze from her face. “The flowers are beautiful and exotic.” He rubbed the upper part of his backside, with a teasing grin. “But those glochids sting. And they’re damn hard to get out.”