The Rent-A-Groom by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online

Some import and export out of Houston. You?”
     
    “Beef cattle. A spread north of town.”
     
    “Prime acreage up there. Must be nice.” Dillman gave him a sharp glance.
     
    “Might be,” Race answered with a smile meant to be both disarming and deprecating, “if it ever pays its way.”
     
    “I’m sure,” Dillman said in dry tones.
     
    The other man didn’t buy the poor-mouth routine. Race didn’t mind. The family fortune hadn’t been based on beef cattle alone for a couple of generations now. The ranch still produced purebred Herefords, but was dedicated primarily to a rare breed of cattle from Britain that were solid white, had lyre-shaped horns, and weren’t for sale.
     
    Reaching for the heavy glass door into the garden, he held it for the others to enter. The quick, conspiratorial grin Gina gave him as Dillman and Sandra went on ahead sent a shaft of purest pleasure zinging through him. That tingling lodged just under his pants zipper, where it became a troublesome discomfort that warned of a tough night ahead. He drew a deep, silent breath and let it out with slow care.
     
    The water music of the fountain filled the soaring three-storied Glass Garden. Lights twinkled among the foliage and turned the spray from the cascading water to atomized diamonds. Hibiscus and impatiens glowed in broad, curving strips of color, while the white perfection of peace lilies waved like magic wands in the air currents wafting through the open space.
     
    On impulse, Race took the winding pathway that went through the center and past the fountain, instead of the faster passage around the outer rim. He recognized his need to prolong the evening, and didn’t even try to fight it. It would be convenient, however, to know how long he might have to keep up his act.
     
    Closing in on the Roman extravaganza of a fountain imported by the old cattle baron Packard, Race turned to Dillman, “You two here for the weekend, or are you making a week of it?”
     
    “Depends,” the other man replied. “We reserved for the weekend, but might extend that a day or two if we’re having a good time.”
     
    Gina and Sandra had moved ahead on the narrow path and were exchanging comments about the coins shining in the fountain’s basin. Gina reached for a small evening bag she carried. “It seems making a wish must be tradition,” she said with a smile. “We may as well give it a try.”
     
    Dillman, catching the comment, shot her a cynical glance. “It’s throwing your money away, you know. Must amount to a chunk of change, all the coins people like you drop in there. Nice extra for the hotel.”
     
    Race, seeing the light of enjoyment fade from Gina’s face, felt irritation rise inside him. “The money goes to a list of different charities,” he said in clipped tones.
     
    “Yeah, I’ll bet.” The other man gave a short, sarcastic laugh.
     
    Race wanted to nail Bradley Dillman right then and there. It startled him, just how much he wanted it.
     
    Coins were something Race never carried if he could help it; he had none in his pocket at the moment. It was a real shame. He just might have to change his ways.
     
    “Go ahead and make your wish,” he said, his voice quiet as he met Gina’s gaze. “We’ll wait.”
     
    “Never mind,” she answered as she turned to walk on. “I—I’m not in the mood anymore.”
     
    Watching the straight set of her shoulders and proud tilt of her head, Race swore in silent rage. And he was suddenly afraid.
     
    As the four of them went up in the elevator, he felt the grip of Gina’s fingers as she took his arm again. Meeting her gaze for a strained instant, he saw that her face was set and pale.
     
    What was she thinking that had her so tense? Race would have given much to read minds just then, because he didn’t have a clue.
     
    For a fleeting second he considered the possibility that she was on to him. He dismissed it at once; there was no way she would still be around if