Love Takes Time (5 page)

“Hello, is anybody here?” Quentin called out.

Beatrice appeared at the top of the second-floor banister with a stack of neatly folded towels in her arms. “Mr. Quentin, Mr. Sterling, you're home.”

Quentin raced up the curved staircase and wrapped his arms around the white-haired maid. “Beatrice, my love, I've finally come back to make an honest woman out of you.” He planted a big, sloppy kiss against her fleshy cheek.

Beatrice's full figure quaked in his arms as she laughed at his shenanigans. “Boy, unhand me before you tempt me to really make a man out of you.”

“You. Me. My bedroom at midnight. I'll provide the wine and you bring the baby oil.”

She gasped. Her smooth cocoa-brown complexion flushed a deep, dark burgundy. “I, um, oh, I, um—get on now.” She smacked him on the arm. “Just the devil, I swear.”

Sterling just shook his head at their outrageous flirting.

Quentin laughed and released her, but when she turned and walked away, he gave her one last surprise and pinched her.

She jumped three feet and rewarded him with another smack. “Go on now before I put you over my knee.”

“Promise?”

“Oh, you're impossible,” she spat and stomped off.

Sterling climbed the stairs. “Why do you do that?” he asked, shaking his head in disapproval. “What if she files a sexual harassment suit?”

“Relax.” Q laughed. “Beatrice knows I'm only teasing.” He slapped his brother on the back as they headed down the hallway toward their old bedrooms. Quentin eyed his bed and thought about taking a quick nap, but the laughter outside penetrated his window. He strolled over and caught sight of the two women riding two chestnut Thoroughbreds.

He still couldn't make out who they were, but the one with the thick, rich ebony hair held his attention just by the graceful and expert way she rode and handled the animal.

“No need to be rude. I should go introduce myself.” He jetted for the door and almost crashed into Antonio who was bringing up his luggage.

“Is there anything wrong, sir?” Antonio called after him.

“No. Everything's great.” Q took the stairs two at a time, raced through the house and then escaped out the back door toward the stable. When he got closer, his run slowed to a light jog. The women's melodic laughter carved a smile onto his lips, but when he finally reached the fence, his smile melted and his eyes widened in shock.

“I don't believe it,” he muttered, recognizing the face that had stalked him from the cover of
Vogue.

A
lyssa loved horses and growing up on the Hinton estate meant that there were plenty around. Years ago Roger Hinton tried his hand at horse racing, mainly because that was what men of his stature did. However, it never really panned out. Bad luck coupled with bad investments caused her father's employer to lose interest in his Thoroughbred ambitions.

But the horses remained.

Throughout Alyssa's childhood, when she wasn't climbing a tree or shadowing Quentin whenever he came home, she was living and breathing everything about horses or swimming like a fish. Who knows, maybe one day when her career settled down a bit, she would invest in a stable of her own.

“Okay, I'm heading in,” Tangela said. “My butt can't stand too much more of this.”

Alyssa laughed. “But I thought we were going to race?”

“You win,” Tangela announced, wincing and turning her horse toward the stable. “I'll see you back in your room.”

“Fine. Be that way.” Alyssa pretended to be miffed. “Tell Jimmie, I'm going to keep Charlie here out a little longer.” She leaned forward and stroked Charlie's long neck. “You don't mind, do you, boy?”

Charlie shook his head. Alyssa smiled and patted the top of his head.

“I think he likes you,” a masculine voice rang out, startling both Alyssa and Charlie.

With a quick, firm squeeze of her thighs, Alyssa kept Charlie under her control while she turned her head to see Quentin standing at the fence and smiling back at her. Alyssa sucked in a surprise gasp but in the next second a wide smile blossomed across her face. “Well, the feeling is mutual,” she said, finally responding to his statement.

Q opened the fence and stepped inside. “That's good. It's good to know that the animals are in such good care.”

Alyssa's gaze followed his languid strut toward her and Charlie. It sort of reminded her of one of those slick panthers she'd seen on the Discovery Channel. Plus, there was an unusual look on his face. One she recognized, but one that had never been
directed toward her before: lust. Pure and simple and raw as hell.

The muscles in her stomach quivered like Jell-O while she struggled to suck enough oxygen into her lungs in order not to pass out.

“You look like a natural up there,” he praised. “Been riding long?”

Her smile dimmed a little at the odd question. “Most of my life,” she answered.

Quentin stopped before Charlie and reached up to stroke his head. “Hey, boy. How are you doing?”

Charlie stepped forward and nuzzled the side of Quentin's face.

“Whoa, boy. Whoa.” He laughed. “You know I don't get down like that.”

Alyssa laughed and with her thighs commanded Charlie to step back. “It looks like he missed you.”

Q ruffled Charlie's mane. “Well, I don't make it home too often.” He glanced up at her. “You here for the wedding?”

“Wouldn't have missed it for the world.”

“Really? Are you a friend or family of the bride?”

Alyssa's smile vanished as she blinked at him.
He doesn't know who I am.
That knowledge, at first, dismayed her, but then slowly her mischievous side took over and her smile returned.

“No. Actually the groom invited me.”

“Ah, Alfred.” Q's eyes lit up. “He's a good man, you know. He's been working here a long time. He's like family to most of us.”

“Yes, he speaks very fondly of the Hintons.”

Quentin cocked his head. “I heard you tell your friend that you wanted to race. Still game?”

“What—you think you can beat me?”

“You're not afraid of a challenge, are you?” Excitement crept into his voice. “I don't want to toot my own horn, but I'm quite an established rider.”

Alyssa snickered at the outrageous lie. Stories of Quentin's lackluster riding skills were notorious among the staff, but damn if Alyssa could stop herself from wanting to have a little fun. “All right. You're on.”

Q flashed her another smile that caused her heart to race.

“Wait right here,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

“Yes, sir.” She gave him a faux salute and then watched as he trotted off. Shifting in her saddle, Alyssa took her time to soak in his back profile. Not much had changed over the years. The philandering playboy kept himself in tip-top shape and his effect on her senses was just as strong as it had ever been. Had she really seen lust in his eyes or had she imagined the whole thing? After so many years of hoping and praying for such a miracle, she didn't quite trust her read on the situation.

Don't get your hopes up too high. As soon as he learns who you are that look in his eyes is going to quickly turn into disappointment.
Alyssa weighed that information for a moment before her mischievous side spoke up.
But until he finds out, there's no reason why you can't have a little fun.

Minutes later, Quentin emerged from the stables with Midnight, a gorgeous black stallion that was clearly a superior horse to playful Charlie, but given that Q was going to be the rider, she still liked her chances of winning a race—provided he managed to remain topside.

“Beautiful, isn't he?” Q asked, fishing for a compliment for his choice.

“He's definitely that,” she admitted. “I'm almost tempted to change my mind.” Quentin's beautiful smile exploded across his face, causing Alyssa's Jell-O belly to quiver once again.

“I promise I'll take it a little easy on you.”

“Are you suggesting that you'll throw the race?” she asked. “That kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?”

“I'm just trying to be gentlemanly. Say, I give you a ten-second head start?”

Alyssa shook her head. “That's all right. I'd rather win fair and square or not at all.” Quentin's laugh boomed and cloaked Alyssa like a warm blanket. She discreetly pinched her hand to make sure that she wasn't dreaming.

“You know what? I think I like you, Ms…?” He cocked his head. “I don't believe I caught your name.”

“That's because I haven't given it to you yet,” she answered with a teasing smile.

“Ah.” Q nodded his approval. “Playing the mysterious card, eh? You know I'll find out sooner or later.”

That was what she was afraid of. “I tell you what.

We'll race to the estate's entrance and back. If you win I'll tell you my name.”

Quentin didn't answer. Instead he kept his gaze leveled on her. “No deal.”

Alyssa's eyebrows sprang up in surprise.

“How about if I win I get a kiss?”

She blinked, her heart now forging its way up her throat. “You want to kiss someone you don't even know?”

“Scared?”

“Of you?” she asked, smiling. “Hardly.”

“Then it's a deal?”

Alyssa stared. Suddenly the idea of winning didn't sound so appealing. “All right. Deal.”

Quentin led Midnight toward the fence's gate and then waited patiently as Alyssa trotted behind him. Once she was out, he worked his way up into the saddle. He wasn't exactly smooth about it and Midnight seemed to sense that he didn't know what he was doing and started trotting off a bit.

“Whoa. Whoa. Come back here, boy,” Quentin instructed, pulling back on the horse's reins.

Midnight ignored him and kept trotting in the opposite direction.

“No, boy. This way.” Quentin pulled the reins to the right. “C'mon, Midnight. Stop playing. Let's go this way.”

Alyssa snickered and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She watched as Quentin and horse continued their battle of the wills for a few seconds
before she took pity on him. She trotted Charlie over and took over Q's reins.

“C'mon, Midnight,” she said gently.

The horse's ears perked and then he allowed Alyssa to lead the way.

Quentin frowned. “Oh, you're just going to play me like that?” he asked Midnight.

Midnight whinnied, but trotted alongside Charlie.

“Are you sure that you still want to do this?” Alyssa asked, fighting hard not to laugh.

“Absolutely.” Q held out his hand.

She gave him back the reins and shrugged. “All right. It's your neck.”

His gaze returned and lingered on her face. “It'll all be worth it in the end.”

Heat rushed into Alyssa's face. “You still have to win.” She leaned forward in her saddle. “Ready?”

Quentin sneaked a peek at his mysterious model's backside. Good Lord, the woman's pictures didn't do her justice. She was a walking, talking masterpiece and he was looking forward to all the games they could play during this weekend.

She glanced back at him and asked again, “Ready?”

He took a deep breath, tightened his hold on the reins and then prayed a quick prayer. “Ready, set…Go!”

Midnight and Charlie took off.

It was probably not a good idea to race with one's eyes closed, Quentin realized, but reason fled and fear took over. Midnight's powerful gallop and the fierce wind rushing against his face, quite
frankly scared the bejesus out of him. What the hell was he thinking? He could be killed on this animal, he realized belatedly. Why was it that he always lost his mind when it came to competing for a beautiful woman?

Just stay in the saddle and hold on tight he coached himself. But shouldn't he at least see if he was winning? Quentin strained to peek between his eyelids. To his surprise Charlie had pulled in front of Midnight. Yet he still had a pretty good view of his competitor's lovely rump.

“Ya! Ya!” He snapped his reins in another sign of sheer lunacy. After that he wasn't quite sure what happened. All he knew was something hit him. Hard. Next thing he knew he was airborne. When he finally smacked the ground every ounce of air fled his lungs.

“Quentin!”

He heard his name but wasn't sure from which direction. How did she know his name?

“My God, are you all right?” Ms. Sexy Model asked, rushing over to him.

Quentin heard the rush of horse hooves and then a pair of feet hitting the ground.

“Quentin, please speak to me. Are you all right?”

He tried to speak. Really he did. But the act seemed as hard for him as figuring out a calculus problem. His clock had been thoroughly cleaned.

“Maybe I better go get some help?” she said.

Quentin finally managed to groan, and as a reward she gathered him into her arms. He smiled, languish
ing in the cheap thrill of his head being pressed against her bosom. Of course that was over with the minute she started smacking him on the face.

“Quentin, please speak to me.”

When her embrace loosened, he reached out to stop her. “No. No. Don't go,” he croaked.

“Oh, thank God. You're all right.”

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”

What? Was she kidding? His entire body was in pain. “I think…I think, I'm broken.”

“What? What's broken?” She leaned forward, to make sure she could hear him.

“Everything is broken,” he said, convinced that it was a true statement. He should just lie there and die peacefully in her arms.

“I better go get you help.” The concern in her voice thickened.

“No. I'm going to be all right. Just give me a second,” he said, snuggling closer. “What happened?”

“Tree branch. You didn't duck. You ran dead into it. I don't see how you could have missed it.”

He probably wouldn't have if he'd been riding with his eyes open, but he wasn't about to tell her that. Instead, Quentin groaned, pitifully. “I guess this means I lost the bet.” He tried to move, but gave up when more pain shot through his body. Maybe he did need help. Midnight cantered back into view and Quentin frowned. “Demon horse. You could have killed me.”

“I don't think you should be blaming Midnight,” she admonished gently.

“Don't tell me you're taking his side.” Quentin's gaze shifted to her. He smiled. She really did have the face of an angel. And those dark eyes…

Something tugged at him. Something in his memory. “Why do I feel like I know you?”

Her smile faded. “Do you think you could stand up?”

“Actually, I'm comfortable right where I am. It's almost as good as winning that kiss. Of course,” he went on, “you could always take pity on me and kiss me anyway.”

An adorable blush crept into her face.

“I was going to win anyway,” he lied.

She threw her head back with a laugh. “Hardly.”

“Come on,” he whined. “Don't you want me to get my strength back?”