One Night With His Rival. Robyn Grady
as kids at race meets when she tagged along with her dad. And then I remembered her, too. Or, at least, I remembered her hair.”
Like the color of leaves in late fall, Ajax thought, doing some remembering of his own, particularly images of her moving beneath him in bed that night a month ago.
“Back then,” Lanie went on, “Veda was like a mouse in a corner. Now she knows exactly what she wants. And I’m pretty darn sure that doesn’t include being any man’s flavor of the month.”
Ajax chuckled to cover up the wince. “I’m not that bad.”
Lanie had a skeptical if-you-say-so expression on her face.
“Anyway, I’m glad Veda didn’t buy into her father’s BS about all Rawsons being scum,” she said. “You know she told me once that Drake is still steaming over Mom dumping him for Dad all those years ago. Just so sad.”
Sad was one word. But Ajax didn’t agree with Lanie. Veda had absolutely drunk the Kool-Aid when it came to believing her father’s version of events.
During their one night together, she had gone to the mat for her father. According to Daddy Dearest, Hux was a slimy villain who had stolen Drake’s girl. Ajax had set the record straight. His mom had made her own decision—because, duh, it was hers to make—after which she had married the far better man.
Veda had softened toward him again after that, and before vacating their suite around noon, they’d exchanged numbers. The next day, he’d sent flowers to her Best Life Now office address in Jersey. After a week not hearing from her, he’d called and left a message. A few days later, he’d sent a bigger bunch. Dialed again.
No response.
“She’s smart, tough and to the point,” Lanie said, looking Veda’s way through the glittering party crowd. “Not someone who’s desperate for a roll in the hay.”
When Lanie pinned him with another look that said, Don’t go there, Ajax coughed out a laugh. “You’re seriously the sex police now?”
His sister tossed back her long dark hair the way she did whenever she was excited, angry or digging her spurs in. “I want to make sure that we’re clear before I let you out to graze.”
He threw her a salute. “Anything you say, Officer.”
Lanie groaned. “Just go get changed. Not that the ladies won’t drool over you in your boots.” Walking off, his sister offered a fond grin when she added, “You’re such a tart.”
After parking in the designated area out in front of the Rawson property, Veda had followed a torchlit path that wove around the majestic Victorian mansion to a tent filled with conversation and music. She’d been taking in the swagged ceilings, which were awash with a million fairy lights, and looking out for anyone she might know when, larger than life, Ajax appeared at the entrance.
With hands bracing either side of his belt, Ajax was wearing a white business shirt rolled up enough at the sleeves to reveal his strong, tanned forearms. A sexy five-o’clock shadow highlighted the natural thrust of his jaw and cleft chin. Even from this distance, even in this light, his eyes radiated a hue that brought to mind ocean-deep waters sparkling with midsummer sunshine.
Following that whirlwind night in Saratoga, he’d sent two enormous bouquets of flowers. Both times when he called, Veda had ached to pick up. At some stage tonight, they were destined to run into each other. When they did, would Ajax try to reconnect? Were any sparks left on his side of the equation, or after her snub, was she already a speck in Ajax Rawson’s rearview mirror?
Before he’d been able to spot her, Veda had inserted herself into a nearby circle of guests. Now she sneaked another look his way.
Lanie had joined him; given his sister’s expression, their discussion wasn’t particularly lighthearted. When Lanie walked off, Ajax left and Veda released a pent-up breath. She was safe—at least for now. Then Lanie headed Veda’s way, which raised another question.
She and Lanie hadn’t been in touch for weeks. Had Ajax mentioned anything to his sister about Saratoga? Lanie knew Veda wasn’t the type to fall into bed with a guy for the heck of it. But after years of wondering, she had taken the opportunity to at last scratch her Ajax Rawson itch. And as much as she tried—as much as she knew she probably should—Veda couldn’t regret a moment of the amazing time they had spent together.
When Lanie was a few feet away, she was joined by a man Veda recognized. Hux Rawson was tall and broad through the shoulders like his son, with neat steel-gray hair, complete with a widow’s peak. He dropped a kiss on his daughter’s cheek before he hooked an arm through hers and escorted Lanie on her way.
Right toward Veda.
Her head began to spin. From the way Lanie had described her dad, Hux would be gracious, even in welcoming Drake Darnel’s daughter. In similar circumstances, she doubted her father would be as polite. Although he was aware that she and Lanie were friends now, Drake still disapproved of all the Rawsons. Always had.
Always would.
Red carpet ready in a tiered canary-yellow tulle gown and smelling like rose petals, Lanie gave Veda a hug and exclaimed, “You look positively gorgeous.”
Veda was never good with compliments, so she simply passed on her best wishes, adding, “I left something on the gift table.”
A glossy hard copy of the history of women in equestrian sports. Nothing Veda would ever want herself, but coming across it in a Princeton bookstore, she had known dressage champion Lanie would love it.
Lanie saw to introductions. “Veda Darnel, meet the most important man in my life.”
An easy smile lit her father’s bright blue eyes. “Glad you could make it, Veda. I’m Hux.”
For a man in his midsixties, Hux Rawson cut a fine figure in his pristine tuxedo. The tanned face and smile lines bracketing his mouth suggested a long run of good health and personal happiness. Veda’s father only ever looked annoyed—unless he was in his stables. Nothing against the horses, but there was more to life than work and stewing over the past.
Tacking up a smile, Veda replied, “It’s great to be here.”
“Hard to believe my little girl is twenty-seven today.” Hux gave his daughter a wink. “So beautiful and conquering the world.”
Lanie pretended to wither. “Pressure much?”
“You know I’m proud of you,” Hux said, obviously referring to more than her riding achievements. “I know your mother would be proud of you, too.”
Lanie’s expression softened before something over her dad’s shoulder caught her eye. Bouncing up on her toes, she signaled to a couple entering the tent.
“Will you two excuse me?” She snatched a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray. “A hostess’s job is never done.”
Hux smiled as he watched his daughter hurry off, then returned his attention to Veda. There was a moment of uncertainty about kicking off the conversation again, which wasn’t uncommon between newly introduced people. Except this man wasn’t exactly a stranger. His decisions before Veda was even born had affected her life on so many levels, in ways he couldn’t possibly know—in ways that could still leave her feeling a little lost.
Like now.
Looking directly into her eyes, feeling the weight of the past pressing in…
She wasn’t surprised when a chill scuttled up her spine, then slithered around her throat—and squeezed.
The sensation wasn’t new. It went back as far as elementary school when she had tried to learn her letters; they looked more like squiggling tadpoles in a white sea, no matter what her teacher had said. In later grades, whenever she was