Her Billionaire Prince Page 9

  But he was talking as though almost to himself. “I’ve been an absentee owner for so long. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” He exhaled deeply. “There, I said it.” He glanced pointedly at the barn ceiling. “I am sorry, Father.”

  “You just need a good manager,” Talia said. “Larry seems like he might be a good fit.”

  “But he works for the Greens,” he said.

  “So hire him away.”

  “I can’t do that. I already did that once, with you.”

  “Everyone does it all the time,” she said softly. “This industry is so temperamental. One moment you’re on solid ground, and the next, you’re standing on sand and everything is slipping away from you. Everyone comes and goes. You jockey for whoever can pay your bills that moment.”

  “If I keep this stable open,” he said, his expression fierce, “will you stick around?”

  “I…I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” came her soft reply.

  “Well, good night.” He stood abruptly.

  She had moved, too, to touch his arm, bringing them close together.

  “I wish things could be different,” she said.

  “What would it take for you to stay?” he asked, searching her eyes.

  “Nobody’s ever asked me that before,” she said.

  “Well, I’m asking you now.”

  “I know.” She bit her lip. “I don’t think I could stay on as a jockey. People will speculate and second-guess my ability.”

  “They can all go to―“

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “Hush.”

  He captured her hand in his and kissed it.

  Her skin tingled at his caress. “Talia,” he murmured, “if you want to stay on as a jockey for a few more races, that’s fine. Then you can ride at my—eventually our--other stables.”

  She bristled, snatching her hand away. “You must not know me if you’d even propose that! I’ve been working my way up to the bigger races. On my own.”

  “Talia, listen to me. You and I could have a future together. Forget these horses. We can sell the stables, and we’ll settle in Boston where you can enjoy the best life has to offer. And then of course, upon my coronation, we’d move to Mondragón.”

  “I would die before I would give up horses!” she declared.

  His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair for me to mention this to you today, of all days.” He rubbed his jaw. “Horses have been the biggest pain, and I…I just wanted to blame something on them.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

  “I’ll talk to you again sometime when you’ve calmed down,” he said.

  “Don’t bother. I should have known what you were about.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what do you mean by that, exactly?”

  “You just want to keep me in my place. You don’t believe in my ability. I thought you had more faith in me, hiring me to jockey Eula, but no. After this, you think I should just give up my career to follow you around the world while you jet set.”

  Exhaustion laced his voice. “It’s late.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said, stepping back and putting more space between them.

  He stared at her for one long moment, during which she studiously avoided his gaze. Patting Eula on the withers, he let himself out of the paddock.

  When she was sure he was gone, Talia hugged Eula’s neck and sobbed.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jay was in a foul mood the next day. He didn’t come down to breakfast, even though his mother sent word. George scuttled around like a scaredy cat and left Jay’s office for his as soon as he was dismissed.

  Jay still smarted from Talia’s words. She accused him of keeping her down, as though this was some gender war. She wasn’t being fair.

  Well, she didn’t have to worry about him chasing after her. After this, he was done with her and horses. Let them do the race, and they could go their separate ways.

  He clenched and unclenched his fist. Girls were right behind horses. So much trouble. Expensive, flighty, and unruly.

  Until someone could tame them and earn their trust.

  Jay sighed. Having this spat with Talia was plain torture. He needed to get his head in the game and focus on the business. He’d been so distracted by Talia that he had let his must-dos fall behind. There was the ledger, for one. It wasn’t adding up, so he called George in again.

  “These figures don’t make sense,” Jay said. “Why do we have multiple identical lines for the same expense?”

  “I don’t know, Your Highness,” George said. “You’ll have to ask the manager.”

  “Call him in, will you?”

  Bruce came in, picking his teeth with a toothpick, a habit that annoyed Jay. “Why do we have multiple expense entries here?”

  Bruce didn’t even look at the ledger. “Cost of running a stable, guv.”

  Today, Bruce’s British accent also bugged Jay. “Surely you don’t need…” he looked down and made a silent calculation, “…sixteen pairs of riding boots.”

  “That’s what the jockeys need, so I get them.”

  “What, they wear them out with each breezing?”

  “All the good stables put their jockeys in the best of shoes, guv.”

  “Well, this stable isn’t going to fund the leather industry. What’s that? A thousand a pair?”

  Bruce gazed at him with dead eyes and cleaned his tooth. “Yessir.” He stood up. “Is that about it?”

  “What about this one? It’s a bill for a derby party. Ten thousand?”

  “Catering costs.”

  Jay fiddled with the paper. “And this, hospitality charge?”

  Bruce’s expression turned belligerent. “Do you want me to manage your stable, guv, or would you rather do it yourself?”

  “If I have a question for you,” Jay said, “I expect you to answer me down to the last nickel.”

  Bruce’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes got deader, if it were possible. “Listen, I promised your father I would stay on, even if he passed. I just wanted to help your family out. I don’t need this money. I’ve been well-paid for my services over the years and have kept a nest egg. So, if you don’t like my style, like I said, I can walk out of here as easily as the next bloke.”

  Jay resisted the urge to massage the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming. If he were to lose Bruce, he’d be in dismal shape to face the race and future decisions. But this bloke needed to be put in his place.

  “I don’t need you making threats to me,” Jay said.

  Bruce picked his teeth. “That’s not a threat. It’s just the truth. Maybe you’re just way over your head with this, Prince.”

  “You can go now.” Jay dismissed him.

  After Bruce left, Jay closed his eyes and relaxed his stiff muscles, held too long in response to Bruce’s belligerence. He wished he had a manager he could get along with, but Father seemed to favor Bruce over the other employees. It seemed a natural progression that he would then be promoted to stables manager.

  One more week until the races―correction, six days―and then Jay could make a decision to keep Bruce or let him go.

  ***

  Talia left work early that afternoon. She needed to decompress. Her conversation with Jay still rattled around in her head, and the last thing she wanted to do was run into him. Of course, she didn’t exactly plan on having her car not start, yet again. And who just happened to be coming out of the building at that moment?

  “Need a jump?” Jay asked.

  “Sure,” she said, swallowing her pride. She tried to not stare when he started unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them over his biceps.

  After he connected the cables, she followed his orders of starting the engine of her truck, stepping on the gas pedal, and revving it a few times.

  “A prince jumping a car?” she tea
sed after he closed the hood of her truck. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “I had to learn these things in Boston. I don’t exactly have a full staff like I do here.”

  She smiled to herself. “You mean George doesn’t know how to jump a car battery?”

  “Surprising, isn’t it?”

  “I bet George knows a lot more than we give him credit for,” she said.

  “No doubt.” He thumped his fist on the hood of her truck. “You should be good.”

  To her shame, she actually felt sad her truck started. “Well, thanks,” she said.

  But he stalled her, walking toward her open window, his expression sheepish. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “W-what about last night?” she stammered. His nose had a cute black smear on it. His lips were so close that his breath warmed her face.

  “I’m sorry I came across as a bully,” he continued. “It’s not a great excuse, but I’ve been under a lot of pressure to make the stable viable without dipping into my other businesses’ coffers, and the money just isn’t there. I will do my best to keep it afloat. I hope when I do that you’ll consider sticking around.” He winced. “Is that offer slightly better?”

  She shrugged. “Slightly.”

  “You’re a tough crowd.”

  “And you’ve got a smudge on your nose.” She reached up and rubbed it off with her finger. She held up the black mark on her forefinger, and he stared at it, laughing.

  “I never thought I’d see the day when the proper Prince Jamal looked like a grease monkey,” she said.

  He grinned and backed away. She returned his smile, her heart thawing a bit.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  On Sunday, Talia allowed herself to sleep in an extra hour. She’d normally go to a church service, but she decided against it today. She would ride bareback on Stormy instead.

  It was that kind of a day―week―where she needed to ground herself and be reminded of how she even got into horses in the first place.

  Rascal was in a good mood, as usual, playing at her feet. She petted him and then whistled.

  Stormy came running up.

  “Hey there, boy,” she greeted him, petting his forehead under his forelock. “Can I ride you bareback?”

  Stormy whinnied. Talia grabbed a leftover treat from her pocket, and he ate it, releasing a sweet peppermint smell that made her nose itch. She fixed Stormy’s bit on him, clipped her reins, and got on the rail to mount him.

  She’d forgotten how bony Stormy’s back could be. But the old horse still had a lot of heart, and could she fault him for his age? She ignored the discomfort as she mounted and instead focused on the Lexington morning.

  It had a timeless quality to it, with motes flying in the air and whirling around softly over the soft grasses. The sun had burnished the meadow a golden, tawny color, with some of its rays forming little spots of sunlight on the grass. Rascal bounded joyfully among the grasses.

  Talia let her legs dangle loosely along Stormy’s sides and rubbed under his mane. Again, she could feel Stormy’s bony frame. How much had he wasted away over the past years? She wished she could turn back the hands of time to when he was a feisty gelding.

  Well, he was still full of power and majesty in every step he took. Kings simply got better with age.

  Talia angled over to where a brook separated her property from the stable next door. A new “No Trespassing” sign had been hung with fresh paint on a tree. Talia bristled at the neighbor’s presumptuousness. Talia happened to know for a fact that the rental property went further than the tree. She ignored the sign and urged Stormy forward.

  Snap!

  Stormy whinnied and reared back, throwing Talia to the ground. She lay there on the grass for a good minute, stunned, until her senses revived.

  Around Stormy’s ankle was a vicious metal trap. He was thrashing around, snorting, his pupils dilated with fear. Blood was gushing from the sharp metal jaws and splattering all over. He reared up, whinnying his distress.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  With her heart thudding like crazy, Talia watched Stormy panic.

  He’s gonna land on me.

  Talia heaved herself off the grass and rolled away, Stormy’s hoof missing her face by mere inches. Talia winced as pain flared from twisting her lower back and sucked in her breath. She didn’t care about herself. She just wanted to ease Stormy’s distress.

  She stood and raised her hands to calm him. “There, boy, there,” she soothed.

  He bared his teeth, his eyes crazed.

  “I gotta get help for you, okay?” she crooned, pushing away the raw fear bubbling in her mind.

  An unusually subdued Rascal settled by Stormy, raising his head every time the horse whinnied.

  She fished her phone out of her pocket. Thankfully, she had it with her. Unfortunately, the vet’s number wasn’t programmed in. Clicking for a signal so she could look up the vet’s clinic, she seized up with fear because the phone search engine just kept hanging.

  “Crud,” she said, staring at the screen. “Of all times…”

  Stormy whinnied and then his leg gave out from under him in a spectacular crash. He lay there, panting, trying to get up only to lay down again.

  His pain was terrible to watch. She tried to take the trap off, but the moment she touched it, Stormy thrashed some more, snapping for her to leave him alone.

  Unnerved by his aggression, she wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She needed someone to help her. But who? And why would a vet drop everything to see her horse?

  Well, they would for Prince Jamal.

  Jay’s face floated in her consciousness. He had some pull. Anyone would come rushing for a billionaire prince. Maybe she could try him.

  She checked her phone. Thankfully, she had cell service.

  She swallowed, pride keeping her from looking up Jay’s cell number on her phone. Maybe she could call Larry instead, or one of the grooms…

  Larry didn’t answer.

  Desperation rose within her. Stormy’s flesh quivered at her touch. His eyes gazed at her blindly. Through the haze, he implored for her to help him.

  When Jay answered, the words poured out of Talia. “Jay, please. Help me. I need a vet. My horse was hurt.”

  “What? Wait. What happened? Slow down.”

  Talia took a deep breath and told him again, slowly, mentioning that Stormy had stepped into a trap.

  “Tell me where you are,” he said. “I’ll get the vet to come over right away.”

  She described her location, tears of gratitude flowing even more. “Thank you.”

  After she hung up, a cloud scuttled across the sun, reflecting her initial fear. Moments later, the sun came out again. It brought much-needed hope to her heart.

  “Help’s on its way,” she assured Stormy.

  Rascal raised and cocked his ear.

  Talia inched closer to her horse and tried to put his head on her lap. He jerked away, and Talia let him. She couldn’t blame the poor thing for wanting nothing to do with her.

  “I’m sorry, Stormy,” she said, another floodgate of tears opening up. “You trusted me, and yet I broke that trust. I didn’t need to keep riding past the sign. I should have followed it. Then I could have kept you safe. Maybe I should have gone to church instead of riding you.”

  His little whinny broke her heart.

  She stroked his head, remembering how misshapen it seemed to be when he was younger and hadn’t yet grown into his frame. Father hadn’t wanted the family to keep him, but Talia cried and cried to get her way.

  Maybe if she cried and cried right now, she would get her way with Heavenly Father up above, too?

  “When the vet comes, sweet one, he’ll help you,” she whispered.

  But time seemed to stretch on. She had no idea how long they waited as her phone was tucked in her back pocket. She didn’t dare move for fear of upsetting Stormy. Once in a while, Stormy seemed to remember that he’d been hurt and tried
to get up, straining his neck, only to fall back against Talia. It hurt every time his head hit her, but she just gritted her teeth.

  “Shhh,” she said.

  His ears pricked, and sure enough, a Maserati was driving down the road alongside the pasture, followed by a truck.

  Jay got out of the car and hurried over to her.

  “You didn’t need to come,” Talia said, though she was glad to see him.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He opened his arms, and she ran into his embrace. He cradled her head against his chest, his comforting touch giving her hope.

  The vet got out of the truck. Talia had met Dr. Oscarson a few times. He worked in the same clinic as the regular Royal Estates Stables vet. Dr. Oscarson was gruff, and she didn’t like him. But he was here. She was optimistic that he would be able to help Stormy through the pain.

  Dr. Oscarson greeted Talia and then went to work. Stormy struggled against his touch and tried to get up again.

  “Settle down, boy,” the vet’s voice boomed.

  Talia grimaced. Dr. Oscarson handled Stormy’s leg as though it were an inanimate object.

  “Do you need to be so rough?” she asked.

  Dr. Oscarson’s glance flicked from Talia to Jay. “He said you needed a veterinarian, not a peacekeeper.”

  Talia’s shock at his rudeness was mirrored in Jay’s eyes.

  “He was the only one available at a moment’s notice,” Jay said quietly.

  Talia nodded, staring at Dr. Oscarson to make sure he knew she had her eye on him. At least he administered some anesthetic, which calmed Stormy enough that the vet could fiddle with the metal trap.

  It popped open, and Stormy flailed again, like some side swimmer, but fell back down. The wound exposed crooked bone where the blood hadn’t covered it entirely.

  Talia caught a glimpse of her blood-spattered clothes. She didn’t care about that.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Dr. Oscarson said, “but if I were you, I’d just put this horse out of his misery.”