Loving Laney. Harmony Evans

The effect was magical, mystical and filled with the promise of something special. Then why did Laney feel so out of place?

      “What’s he doing now?” Robyn asked, craning her neck like an ostrich.

      “Oh, he’s just being gorgeous,” Mara reported with a giggle.

      Laney rolled her eyes. “I think that’s the worst line I’ve ever heard. I hope you weren’t going to use that one.”

      Mara’s face fell momentarily and then immediately lit up. “I think he’s headed this way!” she exclaimed.

      Laney planted herself in front of them, blocking their view.

      “Both of you have been around horses too long,” she admonished. “Austin is just a man. He walks and talks and eats just like we do.”

      Her friends, who had competed with her on equestrian teams throughout her career before Laney won the gold medal, stared at her like she was crazy. Both had consumed a fair amount of champagne, while Laney had been nursing the same glass of bubbly for over an hour.

      “Well, at least we recognize perfection when we see it,” Robyn scolded.

      Mara raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that!” she slurred.

      Laney turned away slightly, refusing to concede to their good-humored jab. She eyed an oversize clock that hung just above the ballroom doors. It was thirty minutes to the “Big Kiss Moment” and she was dateless.

      Worst, she had to be on her best behavior. On New Year’s Eve, no less! Not that she would have done anything really crazy. Her reputation was sound and she wanted it to stay that way.

      Ever since Laney had won a gold medal, the media frenzy had been glowing—and rabid. For a while she basked in the attention, as any sane person would, but she also knew how quickly the media could turn from being your best friend to your worst enemy. She just didn’t want it to happen at a gala event sponsored by Austin, or anyone else for that matter.

      Laney’s stomach knotted as she quickly scanned the perimeter of the room. There was no telling if or where the paparazzi were hiding. She was on high alert and not taking any chances. There was no way she was going to ring in the new year as the subject of one of those tacky celebrity viral videos. Laney took a sip of her lukewarm drink and almost gagged. “No man is perfect,” she scoffed, turning back to face her friends.

      “Really?” Robyn accused, placing one hand on her hip. “You’d have to be a horse’s you-know-what not to see that Austin is the epitome of every woman’s dream.”

      “Not me,” she insisted. “I barely know the man.”

      A true statement, although it wasn’t like she’d never met Austin. On several occasions, he’d been out to the BWB, the Broward family ranch located in Granger, Montana, to conduct business with Laney’s mother, Gwendolyn. They’d also run into each other in London during the Olympics.

      Mara peered down her nose at Laney. “You don’t have to know the man to appreciate, and take advantage of, everything he has to offer.”

      Laney stifled a mocking laugh. Both times she’d seen Austin, he hadn’t given her anything more than a polite handshake and some friendly conversation. And she was supposed to take advantage of him? She might be dateless, but she wasn’t desperate.

      One thing Laney did know about Austin, and did not appreciate, was his reputation as a ladies’ man. He ran through women like a wild stallion galloping through endless prairie grass. Tongues wagged that his conquests were as global as his appetite for travel: Paris, Barcelona, Rome.

      But as far as she knew, no one in the little town of Granger had been able to saddle him—even for one night.

      Laney pursed her lips to stifle a fierce retort. Defending herself to her friends would only lead to an argument, which was no way to end what had been a very successful year for the trio.

      “Just look, Laney,” Robyn implored with a nudge of her elbow. “Start with his body, and go from there.”

      “As if you’d want to go anywhere else,” Mara added with a wicked smile.

      Laney tensed when Mara put her hands on her shoulders, forcing her to turn around and admit to herself what every other woman in the room already knew: Austin Johns was the most handsome man at the ball.

      Her heart did a little skip as she watched Austin weave his way through the crowded dance floor. When he paused, the women gravitated toward him and the men just wanted to shake his hand, perhaps hoping some of the “Austin mojo” would rub off on them.

      The millionaire horse breeder took all the attention in stride, as if he were just out for a stroll rather than combing through a sea of gyrating bodies. At about six feet three inches tall, he towered over all the women and many of the men. Laney cast her head over her shoulder toward her friends. They were both wearing I-told-you-so grins, but she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction that they were right all along.

      A waiter swung past with an empty tray and she handed him her champagne flute.

      “I’m going to get some fresh air. Why don’t you two go out on the dance floor and mingle before we all turn back into pumpkins?”

      “As long as Prince Charming is there to whisk me away into his carriage, I’m there,” Mara announced, kicking off her shoes. “C’mon, Robyn.”

      Laney watched her friends get swallowed up into a line dance. They stumbled frequently, like two colts trying to get a sense of the ground. It was a comical sight and she found herself smiling, in spite of her cautious mood.

      Prince Charming. There’s no such thing.

      “Especially in Montana,” she muttered as she walked through the estate’s massive foyer. Being single definitely had its challenges in Big Sky Country, where there were more cattle per square foot of land than eligible men. Laney was thankful she had her horses to keep her mind off the lack of suitable dating options and she looked forward to returning home to Granger tomorrow.

      Right now, though, she had to get through tonight.

      After a quick visit to the ladies’ room, Laney hurried outside to the place where she felt most comfortable—no matter what city, state or country she happened to be visiting at the moment—the stables.

      Earlier in the evening, Austin, the primary sponsor of the evening’s gala, had used the stable to unveil his plans for a new therapeutic riding center in Dallas. Laney and her friends had arrived late to the event and had missed his presentation, so she was eager to learn more. Now was as good a time as any to get a sneak peek.

      She rubbed her bare arms as she followed the paved driveway around the estate. While it rarely snowed in Dallas, the evening’s low temperature was a chilly reminder to its inhabitants that it very well could.

      Laney arrived at the stable moments later. It wasn’t far from the main house and the evening’s festivities were amplified through strategically placed outdoor speakers. She heard the lead singer from the band loudly informing the crowd that there were only ten more minutes to midnight. When she looked back, she saw that the ballroom doors were open and guests mingled outside on the stone terrace, chattering and laughing.

      Eager for peace and quiet, Laney tugged on the service door of the stable and slipped inside. As she eased it closed, she breathed in deeply and smiled.

      They were all here. The odors of pungent earth, of crisp hay and alfalfa, of sawdust and pine, of leather and oil. Real. Tangible. A part of the air, a part of her.

      As a child, the gentle eyes of the horses had wooed her. She’d fallen in love and never looked back. In the stables, she didn’t have to hide. Not even from herself.

      “It’s about time you showed up.”

      The voice had the slow, easy drawl of a cowboy. None too hurried, and always sexy.

      Laney heard her shocked breath whistle through