Million Dollar Stud. Meg Lacey

Million Dollar Stud - Meg Lacey


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over again,” Harden said as they emerged from the office. “Should be a couple of months on the outside. Meanwhile, Tater and Billy and Ed will be helping you.”

      “Don’t forget Silver,” Tater murmured.

      Harden frowned. “Silver is going to get married soon.”

      “She is?” Tater exclaimed. “Says who? Silver didn’t tell me nothin’ about that and I just seen her this—”

      “Well, there’s nothing definite, so I wouldn’t go asking her about it,” Harden cautioned. “But I got it on good authority that John Tom Thomas is that far—” he held his fingers one-eighth of an inch apart “—from popping the question.” Harden set his face in a mulish expression, blustering, “I can’t see any reason she wouldn’t accept him. He’s well-off, from a first-rate family, good-looking and—”

      “He puts me to sleep every time he opens his mouth, Daddy.” A female voice floated through the stables.

      Surprised, Darcy looked toward the doorway, but the light was behind the woman who stood just inside. All he could see was a tall slim silhouette with a cloud of platinum-blond hair that glowed like a halo. He stared at the hair. This must be why she was called Silver. He glanced over at Harden, who was now looking a bit flustered.

      “Damn you, girl. Where’d you come from? Why don’t you make a bit of noise instead of sneaking up on people?”

      The woman walked forward, her gait as smooth and fluid as a prime show horse…or a Vegas chorus girl. She had the body for Vegas—the long long legs, slim hips, full high breasts just suggested by an expensively cut summer suit the color of orange sherbet. Lord, but Darcy loved cool women with hellfire and heat underneath. Darcy didn’t know why she gave him that impression, but she did. Maybe it was the direct, challenging look she gave him, or the slight pout on her full lips. Cool, cool ice ready to melt. His gut twisted and his mouth watered. He wanted to lick her all over. The surge of lust took him completely by surprise and he glanced at the two older men, hoping his desire wasn’t written on his face.

      “I didn’t sneak. I roared up and parked my car right outside behind that old pickup truck. Whose is it, anyway?”

      Darcy hid a grin. She could see him perfectly well, but she wasn’t going to acknowledge him until she was forced to, a time-honored feminine play to get the upper hand. Funny, he didn’t think he looked like much of a threat, but maybe that moment of sheer sexual awareness hadn’t been one-sided. As intense as it was, he sure as hell hoped not. Ready to play, he nodded his head in mock deference.

      “It belongs to me, Miss Braybourne. I’m sorry if it’s in your way. I can move it.”

      “I parked right behind you, so you’ll have trouble getting out to leave.”

      Darcy grinned. That was subtle. “I’m not going anywhere.” He’d thrown the first card. Now he waited to see if she’d pick it up.

      She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

      Harden jumped in. “This is my only daughter, Silver…uh, Sylvia. Honey, this is Mr. Darcy—”

      “Darcy.”

      “Uh, Darcy, who’s come to help us out for a while.”

      She lifted her lids slowly, letting the long sweep of lashes flutter a bit before meeting his gaze. A slight smile played over her tempting lips. “Call me Silver, Darcy. Sylvia always makes me feel as if I’m in trouble.”

      Tater chuckled. “You been in trouble since the day you was born, missy.”

      “Now, Tater. You’ll give Darcy the wrong impression of me.”

      “Oh, I don’t think that’ll happen,” Darcy said.

      “Why not?”

      “’Cause I’ve got a good idea what you’re all about.”

      He did, too. He gave her a slow once-over. Silver Braybourne reminded him of the more successful debutantes he’d grown up with, the ones who made getting their own way an art. He was a bit surprised to find her kind here on this slightly run-down farm, but you never could judge by appearances. Darcy knew many illustrious families who’d slid into genteel poverty. His gaze met hers again.

      Silver’s eyes glinted. “You think so, do you, Mr. Darcy?”

      Again Harden jumped in. “How was the charity tea? Did you and your mother have a good time?”

      “We had watercress sandwiches and fruit salad. What does that tell you?”

      Darcy chuckled. “Southern fried chicken not on the menu, huh?”

      Taken by surprise, Silver smiled at him. “Not even close.” She turned back to her father. “However, we did give the children’s hospital a big check from the money we raised in our Southern Ladies recipe book sale.”

      A nice respectable organization with a nice respectable purpose. Figures, Darcy thought, almost sighing as he looked at Silver. Regardless of the impression she’d initially given him, Silver was just another dull debutante type—same as all the rest. Why had he thought even for a moment that she was different? Because he was in a different situation?

      “So,” Silver said, “you’re here to help out, you said?”

      “Yes, I’m—”

      “Silver, why don’t you walk me back up to the house?” Harden said.

      She patted his hand. “We’ll go in a few minutes, but right now it would be extremely rude of me to walk away when Darcy is talking to me, now wouldn’t it, Daddy?” She smiled at Darcy, tilting her head like an inquisitive bird. “You were saying?”

      “I’m the new—”

      “Tater,” Harden interrupted again, “why don’t you give him the back room to stay in for now.”

      “Okay, Harden.”

      With an annoyed glance at the two older men, Silver stepped forward until she was practically chest to chest with Darcy. The sheer intimidating intent of the move tickled the hell out of him. He wondered what she’d do if he slid his arms around her waist and pulled. Tempting, very tempting.

      “You were saying?”

      Darcy gave her his most innocent stare. “I don’t remember.”

      Her voice dropped to a smooth whisper that had the kick of moonshine. “You said you’re the new…what?”

      Darcy stepped a little bit closer. “The new manager.”

      “The new manager of what?”

      “This.” He waved his arm, as if the king of all he surveyed. “It’s just temporary, of course, till your father improves.”

      Silver let out her breath in a snort that reminded Darcy of an ill-tempered pony. He waited to see what would happen next, half expecting her to come after him with teeth bared. “You are the temporary manager at Braybourne Farm?”

      Darcy glanced at Harden and Tater, who were standing as still as statues. “Your father just hired me a few minutes ago.”

      “I see.” She glanced over her shoulder at Harden, and Darcy was glad the man was made from strong stuff. Then she turned her attention back to him. “And you, what—magically appeared from thin air?”

      He laughed. “No, I got into town this afternoon and ran into Tater. He said you needed some help here, and I was looking for something to do.”

      “Something to do? Tennis or golf is something to do. Running a horse farm is a bit more complicated than that.”

      Harden interrupted with a firm, impatient tone. “Silver, Darcy knows all that, or else I wouldn’t have hired him.”

      Silver turned and stepped toward her father, while Tater took the opportunity


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