know today was your last working day at Quest. Do you have another job lined up?”
“Not yet. I plan to start looking in earnest after the holidays.”
“This may be my lucky day.” Demetri beamed the smile that had shown up on the covers of international racing magazines, as well as People and GQ. “Yours, too.”
“How so?”
“Have you ever wanted to own part of a Kentucky horse-racing stable?”
Marcus raised a brow. “The thought has crossed my mind.” Then had been quickly rejected, and not just because of the heart-stopping amount of money that would be involved. Owning a stable meant putting down roots, something he had never had a desire to do. Keeping loose, free and unfettered had always been more to his liking.
He thought again about the heavy regret that had hounded him over the past month. The idea of moving to another job simply didn’t carry the same feeling of rightness it always had in the past.
He made a quick survey of the wedding guests, sought out Melanie. She was dancing with the groom now. Shane was her cousin, yet seeing her in the arms of another man made Marcus’s jaw go tight. Lord, he had it bad.
“Hugh knows about this deal and he’s given me the use of his study upstairs,” Demetri said, pulling Marcus’s attention back. “If you’re interested, you and I can talk business there in private.”
“I won’t know if I’m interested until I hear what you have to say. But I’m curious.”
Minutes later, Marcus and Demetri stepped into the study, a warm, vibrant room with thick rugs and polished brasses. Dark walnut paneled one wall; floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the other three. The windows were tall and narrow, diamonds of leaded glass that looked out on the dark December night.
“As of today, Elizabeth and I own Rimmer Stables,” Demetri said, handing Marcus a crystal tumbler of scotch. He settled into the red leather chair beside Marcus’s, both grouped in front of the enormous gray stone fireplace. “Rimmer’s one hour from here. Are you familiar with it?”
“Not with the stables, but their horses. They’ve had some champions in the past.” Pulling details from his memory, Marcus stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace. “The distant past,” he clarified. “I understand the original owner, Jack Rimmer, died a couple of years ago. Apparently his son doesn’t have the experience or know-how to keep the stables a success.”
“Which is why Rimmer’s widow put the place on the market. I’ve got the same problem she does. Elizabeth and I own the stables now, but neither of us have the expertise or the time to operate them. That’s where you come in. We need a partner, Marcus. One who knows horses inside and out, and has what it takes to run a successful business. I’m not talking just about horses but the facility itself. Rimmer junior has kept up with the maintenance on the stables and other structures, but not on the main house. Seeing to that is high on my list.”
“And not cheap.”
Demetri grinned. “Luckily, winning Formula Gold races has made my financial standing very comfortable. Not to mention the purses my Thoroughbreds have brought in. And Elizabeth’s latest album debuted at number one on the charts. Money isn’t an issue.”
“That will definitely ease the way.” Marcus angled his chin. “Speaking of your Thoroughbreds, I take it you’ll be moving them from Quest to Rimmer?”
“Which I plan to rename Lucas Racing,” Demetri said. “And, yes, I’ll have my horses transported there.” Demetri sipped his scotch. “You’re probably thinking that pulling my Thoroughbreds from Quest when it’s in financial trouble is a slap in the face to Hugh and all the other Prestons. And not a particularly wise move, considering that I’m engaged to a Preston cousin.”
“I don’t have a clue how family politics work, so I’ll leave that up to you,” Marcus said.
Thanks to a father who’d rejected his pregnant mistress and their son, Marcus had no idea whether Demetri was stubbing his toe when it came to dealing with future relatives. But Marcus did know the Thoroughbred racing business.
“You’ve held back moving your horses longer than other owners. Some took their stock out the day after the U.S. ban went into effect. I imagine the Prestons appreciate the loyalty you’ve shown. And starting up your own stable more than justifies the move.”
“After I get my horses relocated to Lucas Racing, I plan to purchase more. The Prestons own a number of Thoroughbreds. If selling some to me will help their cash flow problems, everybody gains.” Demetri sipped his scotch. “You know every horse stabled here. I’d like you to think about which ones would be a good addition to my new venture.”
“All right,” Marcus said. It wouldn’t take any thought on his part, though, to choose the number one horse on the list. Robbie Preston had first clued Marcus in on the fact that Something To Talk About was special. Robbie had been right. The colt Melanie had raced to a magnificent win in Dubai’s Sandstone Derby before the international ban took effect was in the star-making class. He wouldn’t just break records, he would smash them to bits. But only if he could race.
Marcus frowned when he thought about the special affinity Melanie had for the colt. He was aware that she visited its stall every evening. Several times, he’d stood unobserved in a shadowy corner, listening to her coo to the gray horse with white stockings while treating him to a slice of pear.
It was clear she loved the colt. Marcus didn’t have to wonder what her reaction would be if her family agreed to sell the horse.
“I’ve got some terms in mind for our proposed partnership,” Demetri said. “Most are negotiable.”
“I’m listening.” Sipping his scotch, Marcus settled back in his leather chair.
“What do you say?” Demetri asked, after outlining the terms. “Are you interested?”
“So far,” Marcus said. The offer sounded almost too good to be true, and he wanted time to think about it. Look at it from all angles. “One thing, if I sign on, I want total authority over the stable staff. If I decide to hire someone, or an employee needs firing, I don’t want to have to come to you for permission before I can act.”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll go tomorrow and take a look at your new stables.” Marcus rose, offered Demetri his hand. “I’ll get back to you soon with an answer.”
SHE MISSED MARCUS.
Melanie frowned at the knowledge while she groomed Something To Talk About. They’d had a good exercise this sunny December morning, flying out across the fields, streaking over the rises through the cold whip of wind while the air roared with the thunder of hooves.
During the whole of it, Marcus Vasquez had clung to her thoughts like a troublesome burr.
It had been nearly a week since she’d last seen him at Shane and Audrey’s wedding reception. Almost that long since she’d heard Marcus had gone into partnership with Demetri Lucas and her cousin.
“Demetri is engaged to my cousin, Elizabeth,” Melanie informed the colt as she ran her hands up his legs to feel for heat in strained tendons. “You met her—the country-and-western singer I introduced you to a month or so ago? She thought you were the most handsome thing on four legs she’d ever seen.”
As though he understood, Something To Talk About nickered.
Melanie glanced up. “You’re right, Elizabeth’s gorgeous. And, man, can she sing—she’s got a boatload of Grammy awards to prove it, too. Anyway, she’s in Europe right now on a concert tour. Which means she’s not around to give me the inside scoop about what’s going on at the new stables.”
Specifically, what was going on with Marcus Vasquez, Melanie added mentally.
Frustrated over her