made her mad but instead sent intriguing shivers up and down her spine.
“If my reputation is gonna take a hit over this, so is yours,” he assured her.
Anyone who thought the customer was always right had never been in just this situation with just this man. One look told Presley she was about to make many concessions—whether she wanted to or not.
Kane could tell the moment Presley Macarthur realized he wasn’t letting her off the hook without consequences. She was pretty good at hiding her expression—but her gorgeous, moss-green eyes gave her away.
They told him she was going to try to get out of this somehow.
“I’m really s-s-sorry about that—”
Kane shouldn’t be happy about that stammer, shouldn’t wish it was from more than just the pressure he was bringing to bear. It marked him as a bad person, surely. But it didn’t stop the satisfaction from rushing in. The curiosity.
Whoa. This game is fun.
“So you’re sorry your stepmother made a mistake. How do you plan to make it up to me?”
Only as her eyes widened did he realize how that might sound—and not just the words. An attraction, a need sparked by this woman had given his voice a husky quality. He hadn’t had this type of reaction with a single debutante since he’d moved back to Kentucky.
Hell, years before that, even.
Why this particular woman? She wasn’t flashy like the diamond-studded princesses in the main house. Her dress was pretty enough, made of a nice-quality material, but its loose style didn’t reveal a single curve. Kane was intrigued by what might be waiting underneath for him to discover. And this close, he noticed another significant difference. Whereas every woman he’d met tonight wore makeup to a greater or lesser extent, Presley Macarthur’s face was clean and clear, without so much as tinted lip gloss to highlight the sexy curves of her naked lips.
Suddenly her gaze narrowed, and she pulled herself a little taller. “What do you mean, exactly?”
The pushback intrigued him, too. The last thing he wanted was a weak woman, one who needed taking care of—that type was his kryptonite, as Emily had proven all too well. Before him was an attractive woman who obviously knew and ran her own business. If the gossip he’d heard was correct, Presley also did consulting on equine and stable management. So she was smart, not easily intimidated. Kane was going to have to get creative to recoup this loss.
He shook his head, ignoring her question while he worked out the puzzle in his head, well aware his silence would be intimidating in and of itself. What was happening to him? First his earlier anger. Now he was contemplating...what?
Blackmail?
Sure, that would get him a long way toward acting on this attraction, toward finding out what was beneath Presley’s loose dress. Not. The sudden idea that popped full-blown into his head was very naughty. As if reading his thoughts, Presley leveled a suspicious gaze squarely in his direction. Kane relied on his instincts, but he wasn’t usually quick to act. He thought things through, weighed the consequences, made plans. Impulsiveness was more Mason’s style.
Not tonight.
This was too delicious an opportunity. “I’ll need you to fix this for me—”
“I would think good and hard before you try to force me into anything inappropriate,” she interrupted.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that.” Kane let his deceptively soothing tone confuse her while he, too, slipped beneath the horse’s neck to invade her safe spot. She stiffened even more.
Apparently she didn’t like that at all...
Or did she? This close, he couldn’t miss the uptick in her pulse at the base of her delicate throat or the way her tongue peeked out and slid slowly over her parted pink lips. He also caught the dip of her gaze to his fitted dress pants and button-down shirt before quickly returning to his face with a flash of guilt darkening her eyes.
Surely it wasn’t terrible to use that interest to his every advantage? Selfish, maybe. He wouldn’t let that sway him. “But I do think we will be getting to know each other very, very well.”
“What?” The squeak in her voice and the hot blush that rushed into her cheeks told Kane he’d struck a nerve.
“Macarthur.” He stepped closer, herding her toward the wall. “I recognize your name, Presley. Your stables, your family.” He had a feeling his grin was not putting her at ease. “So does everyone else in the state, and beyond.”
“So?”
Ah, he loved that breathless tone. “So, if we were together, it would put your seal of approval on Harrington stables.”
“Together?”
Her voice was high and nervous. He propped one of his hands on the slatted wall above her shoulder. Had he reduced her to a one-word wonder? The thought made him grin even more. His proximity threw her off, and she seemed to squirm under his direct attention. And not in fear, which made the knowledge a delicious treat.
“Presumably together,” he qualified. “As in, give the impression that we have a thing going.” At her frown, he pushed farther. “Let everyone think we’re lovers.”
Suddenly, the beauty before him shut down. “Um, no.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m pretty sure I can think of another way to endorse your stables.”
But that wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. “Without sounding like you’re being forced to?”
“Better than I could pretend to be your...ugh...”
“Lover?” Kane was getting the feeling that personal topics made Miss Macarthur very uncomfortable.
“Absolutely not.”
Kane stepped back, palms out in a hands-off gesture. “Okay. We can simply tell them the real story instead. How your stepmother tried to swindle me out of an incredible amount of money—”
“She did not.” Presley planted her fists on her hips, with the unintended effect of pulling her dress tighter over her body, giving him a glimpse of firm curves that set off interesting sparks in his brain.
Presley was oblivious. “She simply...well...”
“What?” Kane challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Made a mistake with a million-dollar horse that didn’t belong to her?”
The expressions of indecision and ultimate acceptance that played out on Presley’s face in that moment told Kane a hell of a lot about the woman before him. He knew plenty of men and women alike who would have thrown their hands up and declared the situation not of their making, so they weren’t taking any responsibility. Not Presley. She could have thrown her stepmother to the fishes, but instead she tilted her chin and asked, “Exactly what expectations are we talking about here?”
Well, since he’d just thought this up on the fly, he wasn’t sure. “We can discuss that.”
“Now’s as good a time as any.” She moved to mimic his stance, crossing her arms beneath a surprisingly abundant chest.
He was beginning to see that this was a woman of contradictions. Soft woman. Smart woman. Hard worker. Astute business manager. Timid on an interpersonal level. Which of these was the truest part of Presley Macarthur? The puzzle had his full attention, and it was the first time he’d been drawn away from his goals since—he didn’t want to think about that.
“I already planned to spend a substantial amount of time making the social rounds over the next racing season,” Kane said, softening his tone. He could afford