The Billionaire Renegade. Catherine Mann

then,” he continued, “do you ride?”

      She couldn’t hold back her laugh. “Do I know how to ride? I’m a Texan.”

      His chuckle sent a thrill up her spine.

      “Alright, then, Felicity. I’m helping exercise my nephew’s horses while his second barn is rebuilt. Bundle up and join me.”

      It was just horseback riding. Not like a romantic dinner out.

      And still, she found herself far too excited at the prospect of spending more time with a tempting man she’d vowed never to see again.

      Conrad had spent the last twenty-four hours trying to get Felicity’s voice out of his head. Attraction was one thing. Total loss of focus? That was unacceptable.

      He’d worn himself out in his home gym in preparation for her arrival in hopes of giving himself a much-needed edge.

      Warmth from the shower still clung to his skin as he made his way across his in-home basketball court. Stretching his arms overhead, he exhaled hard as he closed the distance to the door. He combed his fingers through his damp hair, anticipation zinging through him over this outing with Felicity.

      Opening the door, he left the harsh fluorescent lights of his gym behind. As his eyes adjusted to the gentler light in his wood-paneled living room, his boots thudded on the pine flooring as he picked his way around the large area rug and black-and-tan sectional. Light filtered in from the large windows, filling the oversize tray ceiling.

      Yanking his heavy coat off the rack and snagging his black Stetson, he opened his door and shrugged into the wool coat, which still had the lingering scent of antiseptic and hand sanitizer from all his time at the hospital. Even a pine-scented gust of wind that caused snow to stir slightly didn’t completely dissipate the hospital smell.

      It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, though. The smell reminded him of Felicity. The sexy social worker who’d agreed to meet him today at the small barn that loomed slightly to the north. To call it small felt like a misnomer. More like, small as far as his family’s standards went. There was room for only ten horses and one tack room. But large, relatively speaking. He lived a good life.

      Snow covered the tiered roof, icicles spiking from the eaves. Three horses trotted around the front paddock. Literally frolicking in the snow. Sally, the oldest mare he owned, played with an oversize ball. Careening around it like a little filly. The old chestnut mare still so full of life and wonder.

      His brother had a larger barn with more rides, but then, he had children. Conrad had his horse and mounts for his nieces and nephews to ride when they came over. But he led a bachelor’s existence, more scaled back than his brother’s.

      That wasn’t to say Conrad hadn’t once envisioned a life for himself with kids and a spread like his brother. But that wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d seen that clearly after the breakup of two significant relationships. He’d given it his best shot, only to get his heart stomped and the betrayal stung him still.

      So he’d thrown himself into helping his brother. He’d watched Jack’s kids grow up, had helped with them as much as his brother would allow. Conrad led a full life.

      His boots crunched in the snow as he moved toward the barn. Conrad opened the latch to the climate-controlled stable. Warmth brushed against his cheeks as he grabbed the necessary tack for today’s ride. He placed the saddles one by one on the built-in saddle racks on the walls of the barn. Hung the bridles next to them. He returned to the tack room for grooming supplies. Settled into his routine.

      A whinny emerged from down the barn. Jackson, his palomino stallion, poked his golden head out. Ears flicking in anticipation, matching Conrad’s own pent-up energy. Setting the grooming supplies down, he moved toward his horse. Gave the stallion a scratch behind the ears as he slipped the leather halter over Jackson’s head.

      Leading the palomino to the first crossties, he clipped the golden horse. Jackson adjusted his weight, popping his front right hoof on an angle, and let out a sigh that seemed almost bored. Of all the horses Conrad had ever worked with, he’d never come across one with so much personality. And a personality that matched his so well.

      Giving the horse another scratch, Conrad determined which ride he would choose for Felicity. Glancing around the barn, he settled on Patches. A quiet, steady pinto gelding, well mannered.

      Conrad retrieved Felicity’s mount and began grooming Patches first. As he finished grooming the pinto, he heard the distinct sound of a car engine approach and then fall silent.

      A few moments later, Felicity walked into the barn. He was half-surprised she’d shown. For a moment, the world seemed to tilt as he was struck by her natural beauty, the curves visible even through her snow gear.

      Her brown hair was swept into a thick braid draped over one shoulder. Her deep purple parka matched her snow pants. Her scarf was loose around her neck, but long enough to cover her face if the wind picked up.

      She tugged the ends of the fringed scarf tighter as she approached him. “Well, hello, Conrad. I have to confess, I didn’t expect this.”

      Her eyes flitted to the open door behind her, gaze lingering on his one-story home, which overlooked a mountain range.

      “What did you expect?” He finished currycombing Jackson, who stretched his neck out far, releasing a shuddering shake from ears to tailbone. Conrad bent over, hoof pick in hand, watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

      “I envisioned you living in a penthouse condo. Not a...well, a home.”

      “Technically, this—” he motioned around the space “—is a barn.”

      She laughed, the wind through the open door carrying a whiff of her citrus scent, mixing with the familiar smell of leather and hay. “You’re right. It is. But I was referring to your house, as well.”

      Interesting how she saw space when he thought of his estate as scaled back. Releasing Jackson’s hoof, Conrad made his way to the door. Shut it to keep out the cold. No use freezing before they started riding.

      “It’s not the size of my brother’s, but I don’t need as much room.”

      “It’s still very spacious, especially by Alaska standards with property being so expensive.” She winced, setting her leather bag on the recessed shelving near where the saddles hung. She positioned the bag near the helmets he’d always made children wear. “That was crass of me to mention money.”

      “Not at all. High real estate prices here are a fact.” Hefting Patches’s saddle and saddle pad off the rack, he slung the bridle over his shoulder.

      A glance at Felicity’s wind-pinkened face filled his mind with thoughts of skimming kisses over her before claiming her mouth. The memory of her was powerful, so much so, it could tempt him to move too fast and risk the progress he’d made with her. Drawing in a steadying breath, he focused on the task of readying the horses.

      As he moved toward the pinto, Patches’s ears flicked as if interested in the conversation at hand as the saddle settled on his back. Conrad was a hard worker, but plenty of people worked hard and didn’t have this kind of luxury. He knew luck had played in as well and he didn’t lose sight of that. After adjusting the girth, he slid the bit into the horse’s mouth, fiddling with the chin strap. He placed the reins on Patches’s neck. The well-trained horse didn’t move, but stood at attention as Conrad tacked up Jackson.

      “Even in Texas, I grew up in smaller places, my parents’ apartment, then foster homes. This is incredible.”

      He warmed at how she expressed appreciation for the life he’d built, rather than comparing it with Jack Steele’s sprawling compound. Conrad passed her the reins to Patches, the wind blowing the loose strands of her hair forward. His hands itched with the urge to stroke her hair back.

      Too easily, he could lose himself in looking at her. But if he made a move, she would likely bolt.