Expecting A Fortune. Jan Colley

was,” she cleared her throat self-consciously “with Zack. That night in the cottage.”

      It should have been funny, the openmouthed gape, the dawning horror, but for the life of her, Skylar could not dredge up a smile.

      “I didn’t…” Maya stammered, “Oh, no, please, tell me I didn’t interrupt…”

      Skylar shook her head glumly. “We made it to the finish line. Just.”

      Maya flopped back in her chair, blowing out a long puff of air. “So it’s official. I am now the only virgin left in all of South Dakota.”

      Skylar didn’t smile. In fact, for the first time since she’d had the pregnancy confirmed, she put her face in her hands and burst into tears, shocking them both.

      Six days later, Skylar heard the screaming from her office and leapt to her feet. Without even knowing how she got there, she hurtled in through the entrance of the stallion barn, yelling for the grooms, then abruptly skidded to a halt.

      The main stable housing the twenty-five broodmares she accommodated was ten meters away and most of the mares were out in the pasture, enjoying the spring weather for a few hours. The stallion barn had four stalls, two on one side opening out onto handsome landscaped gardens and a lane that forked and led to two grassed yards, set diagonally apart. The other two stalls opened into the breezeway. That way, even when the stallions were both in residence, they didn’t have to see each other or be led past the other’s stall.

      Demetrius, a large fourteen-year-old chestnut, had stood at Fortune Stud for two and a half years. He was middle of the road, his crop placing quite regularly on the track. He was not particularly unruly for a stallion, but when Skylar purchased the prized Black Power a year ago, Deme resented the young usurper. Hence the modified barn. They may have to room together but they did not have to like looking at each other.

      Demetrius wasn’t in his box. Over the years, he’d caused great amusement by nudging and nibbling on the bolt of the top Dutch door to his stall until he opened it. Deme’s party trick, they called it, and everyone took special care to check the bottom half was securely latched after mucking out or returning him to his stall.

      Both the top and bottom halves of the door were wide-open. An ominous bashing from inside Black Power’s stall down the end told her that her most valuable asset was in trouble. Skylar spun and raced down the outside of the barn.

      As she feared, the big chestnut had gone visiting. His ears were back and he lunged his head and neck inside the open top door of the stall. A crunching bang from inside, accompanied by a high-pitched roar drowned out Skylar’s renewed calls for help. Demetrius lunged again, showing his teeth. She glimpsed a flash of black as Ace, Black Power’s stable name, reared up in his prison, his legs flailing in the air around Deme’s head.

      “Deme, no!” She leapt toward the horses, wincing when one of Black Power’s legs pounded against the top of the door.

      Suddenly an iron grip on her arm hauled her sharply back against a hard wall of muscle.

      “No!” Zack Manning said in a low snarl. “Get back.” His eyes blazing, he yanked her roughly to the side of him. “Stay.”

      Air jetted from her lungs as she lurched to a standstill.

      Stripping off his suit jacket, he flung it at her and began rolling his shirtsleeves up. “Deme, right?” He jerked his head toward the two horses. He’d met both back in January.

      “Careful, he can be…”

      Zack gave her a scathing look. “Get outta here. Find someone to help, now.” He advanced toward the stallion.

      Skylar raced back into the stallion barn to look for a lead and yelled again for Bob, the head groom. Hearing voices, she stuck her head out the door. Her four workers were walking back from the mare’s barn. Urging them to hurry, she rushed back to Zack with them hot on her heels.

      Zack had a tight hand on Deme’s halter and was bringing his head down. She saw his lips moving, talking, soothing. The others moved slowly around the horse. She gave the lead to Bob and watched with relief as he clipped it on to the halter. Deme gave another toss of the head and finally was coaxed into taking a backward step.

      Her attention was on the stall now. There was another crunching blow that shook the building. Skylar covered her mouth with her hand and prayed. Ace was ten million dollars’ worth of horse, syndicated to the Fortunes and two other parties. Skylar’s biggest gamble, and he was due to serve a mare in less than two hours. The standing fee for this seven-year-old stallion was twelve thousand dollars. Please, God, don’t let him hurt himself.

      Her growing reputation amongst breeders in this part of the States was mostly due to the huge investment in Ace. He was a young sire but with fine lineage and his first crop two years ago was already making an impact on sales all over the States.

      Bob, the head groom and stallion manager, released Deme into the care of the others and stepped up to the stall. Ace was still playing up, smashing up the stall. Skylar took a couple of anxious steps forward but Zack moved in front of her, shouldering her away. He stood next to Bob who leaned into the Dutch door, talking quietly to the agitated beast.

      Her relief overwhelmed her but she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d had a good look at her pride and joy. She stretched and strained behind the two men, subsiding when Zack flicked her a scornful glance before turning his back again.

      Frustrated, she bent and scooped up his suit jacket. His arrival had been a surprise. All she’d known for sure was he’d be here before the weekend. She had expected him to phone with more specifics. She hadn’t expected him to just show up at the stable, still in his business suit.

      Bob was still talking to Ace. She stood behind them restlessly, trying to peer between Zack’s broad shoulders and the older man’s tall, thin form. Standing on tiptoe, she caught flashes of a sweat-darkened flank as the stallion paced and blew, trembling with rage and fear.

      “Is he all right?”

      “Let’s give him a few minutes,” Bob muttered, “till he’s calmed some.”

      Zack turned abruptly and took her arm. “What the hell were you thinking?” he muttered, propelling her a few feet away.

      The adrenaline drained away, leaving impatience and a feeling of defensiveness. “What was I supposed to do? Let him kick himself to…”

      “Get help,” he grated.

      Skylar frowned at him from under the peak of her cap. “Do you know how much he’s worth?”

      Zack stepped up to her, close. She was not short, being five foot nine in her stocking feet, but she sure felt small with his lean body, rigid in anger, looming over her.

      “Not as much as that baby you’re carrying,” he said in a deceptively soft voice. “The one you swore an oath to protect.”

      Her head dropped. He was right—she should never have gone near the stall. It was instinct driving her. In all honesty, and it was hard to admit it even to herself, she had completely forgotten about being pregnant when she’d heard the screams of the sparring stallions.

      “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think—”

      Zack glared down at her. “That’s the last time you don’t think. Starting now, you don’t go near these horses, any of them.”

      Her head snapped up and she roasted him with a scowl that matched his own. This was a new side to him, and Skylar didn’t like it one bit. “It’s the busiest time of the year…” she bit out, struggling to hold her temper. Another surprise since she didn’t think she had a temper to hold.

      “We’ll manage.” Zack’s eyes were like granite and he stood, legs braced, like an immovable force. “Won’t we, Bob?”

      How dare he undermine her authority like that? She heard Bob’s grunt, saw his large ears turn pink and recognized he’d made the judicious