“Thatch … er,” she breathed, and I jerked my hand back away from her.

  There was no fluttering of the lashes. Her breathing was still slow and deep. She wasn’t seeing me here in her room.

  I stared in complete fascination at her angelic face.

  She was dreaming of me.

  • Twenty-Five •

  “Please don’t let my brother hear you call his horse sweet boy.”

  Capri

  Jerking the lid off my outside garbage can, I tossed the box of cookies inside before slamming it closed and stalking back inside the house. Two days in a row, I’d woken up to those freaking cookies. If he wanted to keep buying them and leaving them, then fine. Do it. I wasn’t taking the bait. He had made his point. I wasn’t going to give him the entertainment of my acting stupid over him anymore.

  If Shephard Ranch wanted me to ride for them in a race, then I would. That was all the interaction I intended to have with Thatcher. He had made me want things that weren’t in my grasp. Well, he didn’t like virgins. The fact that I was going to stop waiting for the right guy and get it over with did not mean I was doing it for Thatcher. When I was experienced, I didn’t believe he’d want me then either. I would need to grow about seven more inches and get a boob job.

  Shutting that door. Moving on.

  Tomorrow night was the concert in Atlanta with Tyron, and I was excited about it. I needed it. This week had been awful, and knowing I had that to look forward to helped me get through each day. I’d decided not to run today, and I’d made an appointment for a massage at a spa in Buckhead. Esther was going, too, and we were going to enjoy the facilities that came with booking an appointment there. I was in need of the sauna and the quiet pool. The no talking or phones rule for the indoor pool was heaven. Although the quiet pool was Esther’s least favorite thing there. Maybe today, I could use her endless chatter to keep out of my own head, so we might skip that.

  My phone rang as I walked back inside the house. I pulled it out of my pocket to see Sebastian’s name on the screen. Hoping this was business and not him checking up on me, I tapped Accept.

  “Hello?” I answered, closing my door and locking it behind me.

  “Good morning, Capri,” he replied. “Miller asked me to give you a call and see if you are ready to come back and ride Zephyr. We are looking for a new exercise rider and haven’t found one just yet. We were hoping you’d be up for that until we filled the position.”

  Frowning, I stopped walking. Did he mean he wanted me to come in daily and exercise all the thoroughbreds?

  “Well, I, uh, had plans today. What time were you thinking? And what happened to Christopher?”

  Sebastian cleared his throat. “Whatever time you can be here. I’m going to also be doing some exercise runs with them. I just need help getting to them all every day until we hire someone knew. And, uh, Christopher decided to take a job somewhere else.”

  I couldn’t imagine that Christopher had found a better-paying job with nicer stables. That was odd. Why would he do that? Most stables paid around twenty to forty dollars to exercise a horse for thirty to forty minutes. Shephard Ranch paid eighty dollars a horse for thirty minutes daily. I’d asked Christopher this once, and he’d said it was the best gig he’d ever had. He was exclusive to the Shephards, and they even covered his health insurance. When I had worked as an exercise rider, I’d gone to two different stables every day and worked. I’d been required to have my own insurance, too, before they hired me.

  “I can be there by two if that’s okay. How many horses will I be riding today?”

  “Since you’re the jockey, I’m going to leave the ones that will be racing for you. I’ll handle the others. Miller suggested you ride Bloodline, Pharaoh, Nemesis, and Zephyr, and Storm asked if you would take Poseidon out. He isn’t going to be able to get here today.”

  I would need a massage after all the riding. Not before. I wondered if I could move my appointment until later and go to the ranch now. If not, I would just cancel and reschedule.

  “Okay, I am going to move my appointment and come there now if that’s okay,” I told him.

  “Yeah, that’s great if it’s better for you.”

  “It is,” I replied.

  “All right then. Thanks, Capri. We appreciate it. I know you’re not an exercise rider, but when it comes to our best horses, we require a lot. Hiring just anyone to ride them isn’t an option. We will pay you two hundred a horse a day. Will that work for you?”

  Two hundred a horse?! That was entirely too much. I would make a thousand dollars today for a few hours of riding. I couldn’t let them do that. Even if they were filthy rich.

  “That’s too much, Sebastian. I appreciate that y’all believe I’m worth that, but I don’t require to be paid that much. I am good with whatever you paid Christopher.”

  There was a brief pause, and then he sighed. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” I assured him.

  I could not in good conscience take that kind of money for getting to ride on champion thoroughbreds. It was good practice for me too. Especially getting to ride Poseidon. That was rare. Normally, Storm was the only one who rode him. Thatcher was the only one I’d seen on Zephyr other than myself. I wondered if he’d be there. Not that I cared. I wasn’t caring about where he was or wasn’t anymore.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” Sebastian said.

  “Bye,” I replied before ending the call.

  Now, I had to call and reschedule and then let Esther know. She was gonna be pissed, but this was work. With no other stables calling me to ride for them and my future races with the Shephard Ranch in question, I needed to do this. The more valuable I made myself to them, the more likely I’d be riding Zephyr in the Bing Crosby Stakes.

  I slowed Zephyr as we came around the track one last time. Sebastian was on the other side of the fence, along with Miller. They’d had me take him to warm up, then go full speed. I know it was faster than anything I’d done on Bloodline, but I didn’t know exactly how much faster. My heart was racing from the thrill of the ride.

  Leaning down, I patted the side of Zephyr. “That’s a good boy,” I told him. “You were incredible.”

  He raised his head and snorted, as if to agree with me. I smiled as I led him over to the fence in front of the other men.

  “Sixty-seven-point-three.” Miller was beaming as I came to a stop.

  “Are you serious?” I asked, gaping at him.

  “That was fucking fire!” Sebastian said, grinning and shaking his head in disbelief.

  I ran my hands over Zephyr’s neck. “Did you hear that? You’re lightning, sweet boy.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “Please don’t let my brother hear you call his horse sweet boy.”

  I glanced up at him. “Zephyr belongs to Thatcher?” I had assumed he’d been a purchase for the stables.

  Sebastian nodded. “Yeah. Dad wanted him, but it took Thatcher going to Blaise and convincing him to sell. Thatcher made the deal, paid the money. Zephyr races under Shephard Ranch, but in races, his owner will be stated as Thatcher Shephard. Just like Poseidon’s owner is Storm.”

  “Who does Bloodline belong to then?” I asked, curious.

  “Shephard Ranch,” he replied, grinning.

  “Pharaoh?”

  “Shephard Ranch.”

  “Nemesis?”

  “Shephard Ranch.”

  “Do you and King not have a horse?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve not come across one I want to purchase yet. When the day comes, I will. King has had horses in the past, but currently, he has no horses that are racing. He has a former champion who is retired.”

  I smiled, then realizing who that was. “King’s Cowboy.”

  Sebastian nodded. “That’s him. Nice and spoiled in his own little corner of the stables.”

  “What about Georgia Outlaw?” I asked. I knew the colt was under two years old, and I’d seen him being worked with by King and Miller on occasion. His dark brown coloring was almost chocolate.

  “I guess he could be considered King’s. King’s Cowboy sired him before he was retired completely. However, King didn’t put his name down as owner. Shephard Ranch is listed.”

  I dismounted and gave Zephyr one last bit of love before handing the reins to Miller, who had climbed over the fence.

  “We got them all?” I asked Sebastian.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I am taking Sword out later, but that will be it. I had Derek take out the boarders earlier. We don’t have any of them racing soon, and when one is, their owners will pay for the exercise riders. We won’t worry about them right now.”

  “Okay, well, if that’s it, I’m going to head out,” I told him.

  He nodded. “You good with early tomorrow morning?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you at seven.”

  The earlier, the better. I needed to have plenty of time to get ready for my night out.

  Unable to help myself, I did a scan of the area on my way to the car. I could lie and say I wasn’t looking for Thatcher, but I was. His not being here was strange. He normally showed up when Zephyr was involved. If he was making a point to stay away from me, then sending me the stupid cookies defeated the purpose. Somehow, he’d managed to make me hate my favorite treat. The sight of them now reminded me of the fact that Thatcher pitied me. He didn’t want to touch me, but he was sorry about it. Like he wanted to ease the pain by giving me cookies. Being a virgin did not mean I was mentally a child.

  • Twenty-Six •

  This man was insane, and I was getting wet because he was spewing psycho crap.

  Capri

  Sitting in the first row hadn’t been expected, and Tyron had kept that a secret until we arrived. Esther almost kissed him; she was so ecstatic. Jaiden held her back.

  Tyron put his hands on my waist, stood behind me, and wrapped an arm around me. He even pressed a kiss to my temple more than once while we listened to the live performance. I tried not to be frustrated that my body didn’t ignite or even tingle a little. But I felt comfortable. Leaning into him, swaying to the music. It was nice.

  And if it hadn’t been for the way I’d lit up from Thatcher earlier in the week, then I wouldn’t have been disappointed at all. In fact, I’d have thought this was heading somewhere.

  During the ride back, his hand slid over my leg and stayed there while he drove. We dropped off Esther and Jaiden at her apartment, then headed to my house. I’d already decided I was inviting him in. I was twenty-seven, not sure if heaven and hell were even real things anymore, and tired of following all these moral rules that had been forced upon me all my life. I might never get married. I might never fall in love.

  But I was a grown woman, and having sex for pleasure and fun was normal. I was ready for it. With Tyron, who was safe and comfortable. His erection in his jeans as he’d rubbed up behind me tonight told me he was interested. Hopefully, my virgin status didn’t turn him off. I wasn’t sure if that was just a Thatcher thing or all grown men thing.

  He parked in my driveway, and I turned to look at him.

  “Want to come inside?” I asked.

  The corner of his lips curled. “Yeah, I would.”

  That was easy. See, I was already crushing this new way of life. Why had I waited so long?

  I opened my car door and got out. As I walked around the front of it toward Tyron, my eyes darted back to a small orange light in the yard. It was near the porch, but still in the darkness, just out of the glow from the outside lights. What was that?

  “What’s wrong?” Tyron asked.

  I narrowed my eyes as the light moved. Was there a dark figure there too? It shifted. The shadow. It was barely visible with the orange light.

  Was that a cigarette?

  Swallowing, I felt my pulse at the base of my neck as my heartbeat began to pick up. Trickles of fear and uncertainty stopped me from saying anything. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining this or if there was someone out there. Someone smoking.

  No. He wouldn’t be here.

  My eyes swung to the porch. No box of cookies. I should be relieved.

  “Is there someone out there?” Tyron asked.

  I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know how to respond. Taking a step toward the light, I tried to see if I could make out what I had seen better. If it was Thatcher, then why? Should we get in the car and leave? I didn’t want to think I had to be scared of him, but if he was in my yard in the dark, then …

  Tyron’s hand wrapped around my arm, and his body came up behind me. “I’ll go check it out,” he said, moving me to the side and stepping in front of me.

  I started to stop him when the figure moved into the light on the porch. His black cowboy hat hid most of his face, but I knew that body, that stance. No one looked quite that good in a pair of jeans. Only him. The cigarette in his mouth illuminated his lips just enough for me to see them.

  “You need to leave,” Tyron said.

  I winced. He didn’t know Thatcher. He had no idea who he was ordering to leave.

  Thatcher took the cigarette from his mouth and took another step into the light. I moved in front of Tyron instinctively, and he once again grabbed my arm as if to stop me.

  “You need to remove your hand from her.” Thatcher’s deep voice made me shiver.

  Tyron’s hand flexed as if he had jerked. I understood it. You didn’t have to know Thatcher to be struck by the fear that came with his threat. There was a formidable sound to his voice. One that you knew you should run from.

  “Let go,” I whispered, not wanting him to do anything to set Thatcher off.

  “Do you know him?” Tyron asked.

  I nodded. “I ride for his ranch.”

  Tyron’s hand dropped away from me. I’d told him very little about who I raced for, just that I was a jockey. I didn’t give him details on the Shephards, not even their name. If he’d searched me online or done any research at all, he’d have found that I had raced for them recently.

  “You can go.” Thatcher’s tone, although he spoke with a smooth drawl, remained menacing.

  “I’m here until she tells me to leave,” Tyron replied, sounding angry.

  I touched his arm to stop him. He needed to leave. I would deal with Thatcher.

  “Don’t touch him, Capri.” Thatcher’s voice had taken a new deadly edge that had me snatching my hand away and turning back to Thatcher.

  The cigarette was back between his teeth.

  “What do you need?” I asked, wishing he’d leave me alone.

  He gave a small lift of his chin. “Him to go.”

  I sighed in frustration. I was going to have sex tonight, finally. Yet here was Thatcher, stopping me. How ironic.

  “Our date isn’t over. If this is about work, then can you just call me tomorrow? I’m going to be there at seven anyway to exercise the horses.”

  Even through the shadows covering them, I could feel his eyes locked on me. They felt like warm coils being wrapped around my body. Damn him for that. I didn’t want to feel that. Not from him.

  “The date is over,” Thatcher replied, then curled his finger at me to come to him.

  I wanted to tell him to go to hell and refuse, but I also knew Tyron could make him angry, and I didn’t want Tyron to be hurt.

  Turning back to Tyron, I gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. He’s … you just need to leave. He wants to talk about business, and, well, you don’t know him. It’s best you leave.”

  Tyron glared over my shoulder in Thatcher’s direction. “I’m not leaving you here with him. I don’t care who he is.”

  Crap. He was gonna cause a problem.

  “Please just go. I’m completely safe. I swear.”

  Tyron shook his head, then tensed up, stepping around me. I started to grab his arm again when he was lifted off the ground. I covered my mouth before letting out a scream. Thatcher was holding him up by his neck. His feet weren’t even touching the ground as he walked him back toward the car.

  “Thatcher!” I cried out, rushing after him and pulling on his arm, which did nothing. Was the man made of steel?! “Stop it!”

  He shoved Tyron against the vehicle and dropped him, then towered over him as he took the cigarette from his mouth. I reached up for his arm, suddenly afraid the lit end was about to become a weapon. Thatcher tilted his head and stared down at Tyron. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I did see Tyron’s terror. I had to stop this. Why hadn’t he just left?

  “Thatcher, please. Come with me,” I pleaded.

  He turned his head slowly, and his dark eyes met mine. “I won’t kill him.”

  Kill him? God! I would hope not. I should call King. Sebastian. Someone who could come help me.

  He grabbed the front of Tyron’s shirt and shook him once, then let him go. “Get in your car. Drive away. Don’t call the police. That would be your last mistake.”

  Tyron gulped. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

  A deep, sadistic-sounding chuckle came from Thatcher’s chest. “I keep her safe. Protect her. Soothe her. I don’t hurt her.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus, why did that turn me on? This man was insane, and I was getting wet because he was spewing psycho crap. What did he mean, he protected me? And what was this soothing? I had somehow missed it, and that seemed unfair.

  Tyron’s eyes swung to me, and Thatcher’s hand grabbed his face, immediately snapping it back so that he could only look at him.

  “Don’t look at her. Leave.”

  “Tyron, please go,” I told him.