The Barrington Brothers. Jules Bennett
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Several scenes would be shot at various horse parks before and during the races, but he would mainly stay here, directing the shots from the estate. Bronson and Anthony would be more on location, traveling with their wives and kids.
Bronson Dane and Anthony Price were half brothers and a force to be reckoned with in the film industry. And Grant was beyond thrilled they’d asked him to coproduce this movie about the Barrington dynasty.
Glancing at his watch, he noted he had about five minutes until his scheduled time, so he headed out the front door and toward the stables. Wouldn’t want to be late and have to be rescheduled to—gasp—the yellow slot.
Grant smiled as he walked across the lawn, calculating all the ways he could throw off Ms. Spreadsheet. How could he not want to have a little fun with this? People who were that uptight missed out on all the joy in life.
He totally understood the need to be serious, when the time called for such actions, but wasn’t life supposed to be fun and enjoyable? A spreadsheet for daily life? Who actually lived that way?
Tessa stepped from a stall just as he came to the entrance. Sliding her hands into the pockets of her very slim, hip-hugging, mouthwatering riding pants, she headed toward him.
“Punctual,” she said, closing the gap between them. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Grant allowed his eyes to roam over her face. A fine mist of sweat covered her flushed skin, and damp tendrils of hair clung to her forehead where her riding helmet had rested.
“Why don’t we go inside, get some water and talk?” he suggested.
Tessa crossed her arms over her chest and offered a smile that flashed a dimple just to the right of her full lips. “City boy can’t handle the heat?”
He laughed. “Actually, I thought you may need a break.”
“I don’t take breaks,” she told him, tilting her chin in defiance. “And a little heat never bothers me.”
Unable to stop himself, he stepped forward and slid a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger a bit at the side of her face. Tessa’s swift intake of breath pleased him. He had a feeling nothing much set her off her game.
“Good to know you can handle activities that work up a sweat,” he murmured, mentally cursing himself for crossing into carnal-thought territory. Thoughts led to actions, and he didn’t have the time or the authority for such shenanigans.
Tessa reached up, put her hand in his and smiled. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Slick. Clever innuendos won’t work on me.”
Grant couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, I’m just getting warmed up, Country. Throwing you off your guard is my main goal here.”
Keeping her eyes on his, Tessa tilted her head. “I thought producing and directing this movie was your main goal.”
He leaned in, close enough to smell her musky scent, feel her warm breath on his face. “I’m an expert at multitasking.”
She patted his cheek as if he were a little kid, and laughed. “It’s good to have goals, Slick. Now, what do you say about grabbing some lunch? Your two-hour time slot just narrowed down to an hour and fifty minutes.”
She sauntered around him, while Grant stood there looking like a complete moron as he watched the sexy sway of her hips in those taut riding pants.
But from the heat he’d seen pass through her eyes, and that frantic pulse at the base of her throat, he knew she wasn’t unaffected by him.
This project had just got a whole lot more interesting.
Tessa let herself in the back door of her father’s home and nearly wept at the refreshing, cool air that enveloped her.
She’d gotten overheated outside, though her rising body temperature had nothing to do with the unseasonably warm spring day and everything to do with the hotshot city slicker who thought he could get under her skin. And if she didn’t get some distance, he just might.
A whole month? She’d spent only a few minutes with the potent man and he’d pretty much touched every single female nerve she had. How on earth could she survive a month of Mr. Tall, Dark and Tempting?
The last thing she wanted was to, well...want him. Wasn’t he technically the enemy? At least in her world. Sexy, fast with the seductive words and lingering glances...
The thought of this movie, of being thrust into the media, made her stomach churn. And there was no way she could be blindsided by another charmer, who was probably used to women trailing after him, hoping for a sliver of his affection.
She dealt with enough media, being a female jockey and Damon Barrington’s daughter to boot. But a movie was a whole new level of limelight she really didn’t want to enter into.
And she’d had enough types like her smarmy ex to last several lifetimes.
As Tessa grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, the door behind her opened and closed. She straightened and turned to see Grant leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his wide chest, his eyes on her. Those eyes visually sampled her, and Tessa refused to enjoy the shudder rippling through her.
“Water?” she asked, holding up the bottle.
“No, thanks. What hours do you put into riding?”
Horse talk. Much safer ground.
Uncapping the bottle, she took a hefty drink. “Waking hours. But right now, I also tend each horse and clean stalls, until Dad hires a new groom. There’s always work to be done. I’m at the stables from morning till night. And on the nights I can’t sleep, I come over and ride to relax. I’ve been known to sleep in the barn.”
“You live close, then?” he asked.
Tessa nodded. “My property is the next one over, but it’s not near as big a spread as this. All of my horses are here.”
“Your dad mentioned your sister lives in a guesthouse.”
“Cassie and her baby live here.” Tessa rested her elbows on the granite island and squeezed her bottle. “She moved back onto the estate when her jerk husband left her, right after Emily was born.”
A muscle in Grant’s jaw ticked. “Not much of a man, leaving his wife and baby.”
Tessa warmed at his matter-of-fact statement. “On that we can agree. And since her ex was the previous groom, we obviously need a new one.”
“A female trainer and jockey,” Grant murmured. He held her gaze and smiled. “Isn’t that very unusual?”
This was a common question from people outside the racing world. “Yes, but we’re both good at what we do. There was a time not too long ago when women weren’t allowed to be trainers. My dad used to tell stories about how he’d sneak women into the stables early in the mornings, to help train his stock. He swore they were better for a horse’s demeanor, because men tend to be harsher, more competitive.”
Grant shifted his weight, leaning against the counter as if processing all she threw at him. “I read that in his bio. That’s quite intriguing, actually.”
Intriguing? Tessa didn’t want him using that word when he was staring at her with such intensity. Did the man ever blink? Or just mesmerize women with that heavy-lidded gaze?
“Cassie is the best trainer I’ve ever seen,” she told him, circling the conversation back to the reason for this little meeting.
“She’s older than you, right?” Grant asked.
“By three years.”
“She never had the itch to become a