Unbridled Billionaire. Dani Wade

To his eternal consternation, his dark, brooding looks seemed to attract the attention of more women than he wanted. And as soon as word spread that he and his brother had inherited enough money to be labeled billionaires, the number of potential wives chasing him had become obscene.

      He’d agreed to take one for the team if his mixing and mingling got their newly established stables noticed by pretty girls and their families. Money wasn’t the only thing they needed to keep building—although his father had ensured that they had plenty of that. No, they needed to build a reputation among the movers and shakers of racing society here in Kentucky bluegrass country. Kane would do whatever he had to in order to ensure their names were on every pair of lips at this year’s biggest events surrounding the race to the Triple Crown.

      After he’d had a few minutes to himself...

      What surprised him was how utterly boring he found the women here today. The newly minted billionaire was looking for a bit of a challenge, a sassy remark or, hell, anything outside the cookie-cutter norm...but he hadn’t found that yet.

      And the fake helpless act...he shuddered. Kane had more protective instincts than most men, but he could see right through to the calculating performances that did nothing more than turn his stomach.

      Idly, he clicked on his email icon and glanced over the notifications. The usual mix of ads, business replies and such filled the screen. Geesh—it didn’t matter how often he checked his inbox; the thing just kept filling up.

      Suddenly the name Vanessa Gentry caught his eye, and his world went still for long, long seconds.

      He recognized it, of course, even after several years. Kinda hard to forget the woman who would have been your mother-in-law. Immediately his mind’s eye filled with a picture of her with her daughter, both of them laughing, heads close together. They’d looked so much alike, only Vanessa’s dark hair had gone silver gray at an early age. Her daughter Emily’s had still been black as night. Just the thought saddened Kane.

      Though he probably shouldn’t, he clicked on the email and read it while a photo began downloading.

      Kane, I know it is presumptuous of me to send this to you. But after the way things ended... Well, I just wanted you to know that all is well and that Emily has been able to move on.

      Kane braced himself, straightening his spine against the back of the chair. Sure enough, as he glanced down at the picture that appeared, it was as though someone had landed a blow square in his solar plexus.

      There she was, the beauty he’d thought to one day call his own. Odd—he’d thought he would never stop loving her then. Now love wasn’t the emotion he felt. No, instead it was the familiar wave of weakness, the helplessness that had first plagued him during his mother’s illness and death from cancer. Then Emily had had her accident, which sent all his fix-it instincts into overdrive. But she’d wanted none of his help. She’d interpreted it all as pity.

      Beside her in the photo was an average-looking man, nondescript except for the tux and boutonniere. There was a happy glow in his eyes. Over Emily’s shoulder Kane could see the handle of her wheelchair. So she was still at least partially paralyzed...

      And a beautiful bride to someone who could apparently meet her needs better than Kane, no matter how hard he’d tried.

      The anger hit quick and hard. Even though he didn’t want to, Kane conceded that Emily had a right to move on. But Kane had a right to be left out of it, instead of being reminded of all the ways he hadn’t measured up.

      Surging to his feet, he ignored the slam of his chair against the wall behind him. Stalking across the expensive carpets without a thought, he continued out the door and down the hall without acknowledging the few guests he passed. He imagined his facial expression wasn’t particularly welcoming at the moment.

      The way people fell back as if he were the beast at the ball only confirmed his thoughts—and exacerbated his anger.

      But his body knew what it needed. The peace and quiet he’d always found in the stables. The acceptance of the horses. The earthy smell that grounded him in the present. And today, the realization of the dream he hadn’t been willing to give up—even after his ex-fiancée had fallen off her horse and been left paralyzed for life.

      There was no one in the stables. They’d allowed tours earlier. After all, this would be the heart of their operations. Kane and Mason were rightfully proud of the building, the renovations they’d done here and the stock they’d started housing in the stalls. As soon as he entered, Kane’s steps slowed, his breath evened out, his heart rate returned to normal.

      He paused, savoring the quiet shuffle of horses’ feet and their gentle calls to him as they sensed his presence. This time when he moved forward, his footfalls were almost silent. He was meditative as he strolled through the space. It was the realization of a dream he and his brother had for so long: premium-grade stables and the stock to one day race a championship horse.

      He only wished his father had lived long enough to share it with them.

      A sudden high-pitched squeak broke the silence. Then he heard a voice coming from the right-hand fork of the aisle. Kane wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. Had a sneaky couple decided to play some games in the stables while the party was going on? Normally he would just ignore it, but that wing had been declared off-limits to visitors earlier in the day.

      Because that’s where their new breeding stud was being kept.

      Sun was a very new addition, having only arrived yesterday, and Kane hadn’t wanted him disturbed by a rush of onlookers. The horse needed time to get used to his new digs.

      Picking up speed, Kane rounded the corner and made his way toward the noise. The closer he got, the more his calm melted away, because the voice seemed to be coming from the stud’s stall. Singular and soft, it had to be a woman’s. Either she was talking to the horse or some man was getting an earful of sexy whispers.

      The stall was about halfway down the aisle, but as Kane approached, something farther down caught his attention. The back door to this wing sat ajar, giving him a glimpse of the black night...and the glint of the stable lights off metal. A truck? A trailer?

      Was this woman stealing his horse?

      His big body automatically adopted stealth mode, his feet almost silent on the hard-packed earthen floor. He gave the stall door a wide berth, coming around it in the shadows across the aisle so he could see without being seen. As he paused, a sudden awareness of the pumping of his heart and an intense curiosity flooded over him.

      He wasn’t bored now.

      Over the half wall, Kane could see the massive stallion standing unusually still, almost as if mesmerized by the woman’s voice. She spoke continuously as she worked—from what Kane could tell since she faced away from him, she was indeed readying Sun for transport. But the whole time she touched him, steadying him with a firm hand that bespoke familiarity and authority.

      She wasn’t dressed to steal a horse. Through the barely open door Kane caught a quick peek of the flat soles of the woman’s sandals. The straps across her feet were bejeweled; he could see them peeking out through the straw. A loose sundress of nondescript gray-blue material skimmed her lightly muscled body instead of hugging her curves.

      Her back was to him, but from what he could tell, she was pretty but not flashy. She certainly hadn’t caught his attention earlier tonight. If she’d been present at the party—as the dress suggested—he couldn’t remember her. And he had a feeling he would have remembered the wealth of caramel-colored hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. He wanted to see what her face looked like, but first, he needed to know what she was up to.

      Many people didn’t realize that behind his stoic exterior, Kane was an exceedingly patient man. He stood for a good ten minutes in silence, cataloging the woman’s movements and actions, guessing at her intentions. She had an incredible talent for soothing the giant horse they’d nicknamed the Beast, but the breakaway-style halter, blanket and leg wraps on the animal left no doubt that she planned to leave here with his horse.