and recently mowed grass. When she saw the chestnut stallion being led by a groom down the truck’s ramp, she broke out in a cold sweat.
She knew that horse as well as she knew her own. His strengths. His weaknesses. His bad habits. His owner.
Xavier.
The urge to bolt for the woods and lose her lunch charged through her, but she gritted her teeth until the nausea passed. Fleeing would be futile anyway. Xavier had already proven he’d follow. With his prize stallion, her favorite mount.
She scanned the now pristine property. How like Xavier to take the old farm from derelict to showplace in just days. He had the means and the money to work miracles.
An odd mixture of hope, dread and excitement fizzed through her. Would he go to so much trouble if he didn’t feel something for her? If he didn’t want her back? Her and only her. Maybe he’d realized how stupid and anachronistic an arranged marriage was.
The stallion caught her scent. His ears flicked forward and he whickered in recognition. She closed the distance and stroked his glossy neck.
“Hello, Apollo. Where’s Mr. Alexandre?” she asked the unfamiliar groom handling the horse.
He pointed toward the freshly painted barn. “Inside.”
“Thanks.”
Her heart thumped harder as she approached the building. A black Maserati Quattroporte identical to the high-performance luxury sedan Xavier drove at home occupied a spot near the barn’s front entrance. She heard his voice before she saw him and then he came through the door with his cell phone to his ear, jolting her to a stomach-dropping halt.
His jade eyes coasted over her, giving her goose bumps. He ended his call. “Good evening, Megan.”
She waited for him to tell her he’d made a mistake and wanted her back, but the silence stretched between them. “Why are you doing this, Xavier?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “If the rider won’t come to the horse, then the horse must come to the rider.”
“What happened to the replacement rider I found for him?”
“She was inadequate.”
“She’s ranked in the top ten.”
“Apollo prefers you.”
And so do I, she waited for him to add. But he didn’t.
“You’ve put him through a transatlantic flight for nothing. I’m not riding him.”
“He and your other mounts will stay until you come to your senses.”
Another brick slid down her throat and landed with a kerthunk in her belly. “You brought all three of them?”
He inclined his head.
“Why? You’re decreasing the value of the animals by pulling them from competition midseason.”
“You did that when you abandoned them to a strange and inferior rider. They did not perform as well for her as they did for you.”
“You didn’t give them a chance to adjust to each other’s styles.” But maybe a teensy part of her was happy that the horses had performed better for her. Petty, Megs.
“It is done.” And once he made a decision, she’d learned, he stuck to it. But she hoped he’d change his mind on one—his marriage.
“How long are you going to play this game, Xavier?”
“I have signed a year’s lease.”
She smothered a groan. She had to find a way to convince him to go home and soon. She might be able to hide her condition under baggy shirts for another month, but that was it, and in six months she’d have his child. “What about Parfums Alexandre and your upcoming wedding? That’s less than a year away?”
“Cecille can plan the nuptials without me, and I will work via conference call for now. And I have the jet on standby.”
To him jetting to another country was like any normal person’s road trip. Only, he had a full crew so he worked during the flights. “Haithcock’s house is hardly up to your five-star standards.”
He shrugged. “It has a simple charm and the furnishings provided are adequate.”
“You’re wasting your time, Xavier.”
“You have mentioned competing on the American circuit. I will provide the means for you to do so until you get it out of your system. The horses and you are certainly up to the task. I understand your need to prove your worth although I am told your uncle has retired from the horse business and no longer attends the shows to witness your success.”
It shouldn’t surprise her that he’d done his homework. “Proving myself on my uncle’s turf isn’t what this is about.”
“Then what is the problem? What keeps you here?”
Had he not heard a word she’d said? “Her.”
“As I have said before, Cecille is not an issue. I will not leave until you agree to return with me.”
“Only one thing will make that happen.”
A dark eyebrow lifted.
Her palms turned clammy. “End your engagement.”
His expression darkened ominously. “You demand the one concession I cannot grant.”
His words punctured whatever remained of her balloon of hope. If he loved her he wouldn’t hurt her this way. No, they’d never spoken the words, but the closeness they’d shared, the amount of time they’d spent together, had led her to believe he cared. He allowed her to see a side of himself that others never saw—a side that was gentle instead of ruthless, considerate instead of conquering. Had that meant nothing to him at all?
“How does your fiancée feel about your extended vacation?”
“I did not ask her opinion.”
She gaped at him. Was he clueless? “I realize you didn’t have a good role model, so let me help you. Marriage is a partnership. It means always considering the feelings of your significant other before making decisions that will affect him or her. Cheating on your future wife with a mistress—even if that mistress is across an ocean—is hardly the way to earn trust and make a relationship last.”
“And you are an expert on long-term relationships? I think not. The only lasting associations you have had are with your cousin and your horses. You thrive on competition, Megan. Why are you not competing?”
She scrambled for an acceptable response. One he’d believe. One that would convince him he couldn’t change her mind. Unless he changed his first.
“I’ve chased the dream of being on top of the leaderboard for ten years. I’m tired and need a break. I miss my cousin. I want to help Hannah plan her wedding. And now that my uncle has moved away from Sutherland Farm, there’s no reason for me to avoid the place. I’m leaving the European Circuit for good, Xavier. I won’t come back. Not for you or your horses. Not if you’re married to her.”
The minute she said the words she knew they were true. She couldn’t go back if he married that woman. Megan couldn’t bear to see Xavier and his wife in the stands or at the pre- and post-show parties. They’d bump into each other constantly. And knowing Xavier’s have-his-cake-and-eat-it-too attitude, he’d probably expect her to keep riding his horses even after he said his vows.
The life she’d built in Europe was over and the friends she’d made relegated to the past. The realization hit hard, and even though she’d left a month ago a part of her had hoped to return. But that wasn’t looking likely. Her emotions, which had been close to the surface lately, threatened to mutiny. Her eyes and throat burned and her chest tightened.
She would not cry.