He laughed. “Oh, Miss James, you and I both know that isn’t true. I’ll bet a hundred pounds that Michael has already mentioned me to you. He thinks he doesn’t care for me, yet he can’t seem to stop venting his poison about me at every opportunity. Does that really seem like a man who doesn’t care to you, Miss James?”
Anger and determination to help Michael ripped through Caroline’s blood on a tidal wave. All her life she’d had people ride rough shod over her dreams and desires—in the brief time she’d known Michael she liked him; respected him and over her dead body would this man have the satisfaction of causing him misery. Whether he wanted his son to compete or not, Lewis Canton pushed her buttons to help Michael and hinder his father.
“I think we’re done here.” She looked out the window once more. “Michael’s side of the story seems a better place to start.”
“You’ll be back for more, Miss James…I guarantee it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Your son has more intelligence and determination than you give him credit for. I like him. That’s a big advantage as far as the way I’ll write my findings than he,
or you
, seem to realize.”
“I don’t think you understand just how influential a man I am, Miss James. It would be a big mistake not to talk to me.” The humor in his voice had vanished.
Caroline smiled. “Good God, is that a threat? You really don’t want Michael’s side of your estrangement made public, do you?”
What the hell has gone on between them?
“I’ve been told my son watches you with an interest he hasn’t shown in many women before. I want to know why he’s reacted to you in such a way.” He paused. “After all, he’s just a trainer. He has no media draw.”
“Maybe not. But you do.” Caroline forced herself to concentrate as visions of a bare-chested Michael rushed into her mind. God, if this man thought his son didn’t have
draw
, he must be ready for the frigging loony bin. “For your information, Mr. Canton, Michael shines in or out of the ring. If his horses are anything to go by, he is the best at what he does. I know I could find scores of people at the Trials who would happily give me a statement backing my observations.”
He laughed. “Michael is a good looking man, I grant you. Moreover, he has a unique skill with horses. I want him working with me, taking my place in the spotlight.”
Clearly that wasn’t what Michael wanted. Why? “Is that so?”
“If you and I come together, Miss James, it could be mutually beneficial to us both. Michael is not a man you want to waste romantic notions on, my dear. Horses will only ever be his true love.”
She cocked her eyebrow in disbelief even as a strange sensation skittered through her chest. A sensation that felt far too much like disappointment.
“My son should be an Olympian. A rider who could take the equestrian world by storm. Instead, he’s chosen training. His talent is wasted. Maybe you can be the one to make him see that.”
Romantic notions or not, Caroline stiffened. He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. “Wasted? As far as I can tell, Michael is doing what he was born to do. Those horses are performing the way they do because of him. Yes, the riders have a part to play, but surely the foundation is the trainer.”
His exhalation rasped down the line. “Granted. But he’s a Canton. Canton’s do not sit in the background of anything.”
“And your need to pull Michael to your side has nothing to do with the fact that your skills are fading.”
Another laugh. “Touché, my dear. Take your risks with Michael. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The line went dead.
She stared at the phone. Why had she let a man like that get to her? Why did the thought of him coming anywhere near Michael suddenly feel like a fate she wouldn’t allow to happen? There was no way in hell this man was getting what he wanted. Caroline stormed into the kitchen, her mind racing.
She yanked a bottle of red wine from a rack on the counter, her hands trembling. Snatching a corkscrew from the drawer, she pushed it into the cork. She needed to warn Michael of his father’s intentions. Anger mixed with desire as she popped out the cork and filled a glass.
As she drank, her body lit with excitement, anticipating not just a hot story but much more. The fire in Michael’s eyes made her think of him kissing her, having him suck at her nipples and licking at her core. God, together, they would be dynamite.
Her smile faltered.
As long as she was careful, her reaction to him didn’t supersede her desire for a story that would catapult her to London, everything would be all right.
Chapter Five
Caroline had barely finished her glass of wine when the phone rang.
She looked at the screen. Her editor. Caroline grimaced. Right then, an unexpected call from Lewis Canton felt like a preferable option. She gritted her teeth and pressed the talk button.
“Hi, Gordon. How are things? I was just about to—”
“What, Caroline? What were you just about to do? Send me your copy? Show me what a small-time journalist with aspirations for a national career can achieve from even the lowliest of stories?”
Anger flared hot in her cheeks. “That’s not fair.”
“No? I’ll tell you what’s not fair is when I have my best reporter flounce out of my office almost forty-eight hours ago complaining she was worth more than the Lakedale Trials, yet I’ve not gotten even a rundown of the events to print tomorrow morning. What the hell have you been doing?”
Her irritation hitched up a notch and Caroline tilted her chin. “I’ve been laying the foundations for a story, that’s what. A bloody good story.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Really?
“Yes. Really. I was just about to ring you. I need an extension to pull this together properly.”
Pride before a fall, Caroline. Pride before a fall.
Silence.
Caroline counted the seconds…
“And why exactly should I give you an extension?” Gordon’s voice was dangerously low.
She smiled as her nerves settled and relief smoothed across her shoulders. “Because then I’ll have time to deliver a story worth waiting for. I can have a preliminary write up to you tonight.”
“And what about the rest?”
“It will be fantastic.”
He snorted. “Fantastic? You tell me right now what you’ve got or I’ll haul your ass off this story to the antiques fair running in Melksham tomorrow afternoon.”
Caroline inwardly cursed. Dammit. It was time to fight. “What’s with the lowly assignments, Gordon?”
“You’re getting too confident. Confidence with nothing to back it up is pointless. Now, you either deliver something big that I can titillate the nationals with or you take what scraps you’re thrown. Now, which is it going to be?”
Caroline glowered at the blank TV screen. “Fine, I’ll get something to you tonight.”
“Yes, you will. But you’ll also summarize it for me now.”
Broken pride splintered inside her. She dropped her head back against the cushioned sofa and closed her eyes. “I…it’s…”
“God damn it, Caroline. You have nothing.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then what?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Forgive me, Michael. I have to do this. It will benefit us both in the long run. Trust me.
“I have an ongoing feud between Lewis Canton and his son, Michael. Lewis is coming to the Trials tomorrow hoping for reconciliation. I’m meeting with the son tomorrow night.”
She opened her eyes, her heart beating fast as Gordon’s breathing rasped against her ear. It had to be enough to keep him off her back for a while. Caroline leaned forward and topped off her glass. She took a gulp.
“And what about it?” Gordon asked. “That’s hardly enough to make me jump up and down. You delivered that to me as though it was the scandal of the year. It’s show jumping, Caroline. It’s not even as though either of them are up to something outrageous, is it?” He sniffed. “Why don’t you seduce one of them? Maybe that would sell papers.”
The irony in his tone set her irritation higher. “Not funny.”
Yet, Caroline swallowed against the bolt of lust that ricocheted from her chest to her pussy just thinking about getting down and dirty with Michael.
Gordon cleared his throat. “Fine, you get a preliminary report to me tonight. I want to run something on this first thing tomorrow. I will not be the last local paper to report on these bloody trials. The upper class love this shit. Lewis Canton is a legend. Let’s just be first in line to blow any potential story wide open. Okay?”
“The sooner I get off the phone, the sooner I can send you something.”
“I’m waiting.”
The phone went dead in her ear and Caroline snapped her cell closed.
Her mind whirled with options for the best way forward. She had spent the entire previous night on her laptop, devouring every piece of information on both father and son. Michael had been publicly condemned for not following in his father’s footsteps, and the entire family had turned their backs on him.
Lewis was a wealthy womanizer who had put his loyal wife through years of affairs and heartache, yet she’d chosen to stay by his side rather than leave the riches and take her children away from the scandal. Michael grew up in his father’s shadow until he eventually quit the family altogether.
It was public knowledge that he and his father were estranged and, up until now, neither had been in any hurry to be back in each other’s lives. Now, Lewis wanted his son for his own means.
Caroline pushed to her feet and went into the kitchen, swapping her wineglass for a coffee cup. She flicked on the coffeemaker and gripped the counter. She’d be a liar if she claimed her research on Michael was entirely professional. He interested her for too many other reasons. She looked to the window. Which provoked the overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive to his apartment.
Tomorrow, she would see him. Tomorrow, they would be entirely alone. Her mouth drained dry. It would take all her willpower not to drop to her knees and yank down his trousers the moment he opened the front door. The need to suck that man’s cock ran through her at ninety miles an hour. Caroline blinked. God, she needed to get a grip.
With her coffee in hand, she grabbed her laptop and headed into her bedroom. Already clad in her nightshirt, she climbed into bed and booted up her computer. The sooner she typed up an outline the better. The next half an hour passed in a frenzy of blurred fingers passing over the keyboard. It was amazingly easy to write her views and feelings on the feud between Lewis and Michael once she got started.
Hitting “send,” Caroline released a satisfied sigh. She knew Gordon and his skepticism would be laid to rest as soon as he read her outline. Titillation was of the highest order to her boss and, with her suggestive prose and observant details, she was confident she had the balance just right.
Shutting down the laptop, she threw back the covers and padded into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and headed back to bed. She slid her laptop under the bed and flicked off the lamp.
Laying back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling in the moonlit darkness. Michael’s face—and worse, his body—rushed into her mind’s eye. Unwelcome and painfully insistent.
The tension emanating from him stirred her in ways that were wrong—but felt so damn right. The dark brooding looks he gave her, the tight set of his jaw and the hard plane of his wide shoulders…God, she just wanted to sink her teeth into his neck like a TV vampire heroine.
Caroline slid her hands over her breasts through the cotton of her nightshirt. She tweaked her nipples and they immediately hardened. Her eyes drifted closed. She imagined he’d suck each one into his mouth, giving her a heady pain/pleasure sensation. Her pussy tightened and she gave into the inevitable.
She shimmied out of her shirt and tossed in on to the floor. Naked and free, her fingers roamed over her body, pinching her nipples and tormenting herself by leaving her pussy aching with need. Moaning into the empty room, she saw Michael’s scowling face as he hovered above her.
He slowly descended over her, whispering feather-light kisses over her breasts, lower over her torso until his warm breath lifted the line of pubic hair leading to her hardened clit. Groaning, Caroline smoothed her hand to her erected nub, all the while, feeling the exquisite sensation of Michael’s commanding tongue and expert fingers. He lapped and sucked her clit, while sliding his fingers in and out of her wet, slippery heat.
Impatient and unable to resist any longer, Caroline pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and rubbed her aching clit with vigor. On and on she masturbated, the need and urgency to come over Michael’s face fuelling her fever.
“Oh, shit.”
Her mouth dropped open as her orgasm thundered through her, sending her senses reeling and her body bursting with a sheen of perspiration. She rode the climax as it peaked before releasing her held breath. As the sensations ebbed away, she dropped her hand to her side and opened her eyes. A smile played at her lips despite the danger of her fantasy.
Holy shit, am I in trouble.
****
The following evening, Caroline brought her car to stop outside an expensive apartment building at the bank of the River Avon. She killed the engine and her gaze wandered over the front page of today’s newspaper lying on the passenger seat beside her.
“
Prove me wrong, son. Take the challenge. If you can ride, then ride.”
Former Olympian gold medalist, Lewis Canton, wants his son, Michael, to take up the reins and ride in the 2016 Olympics. Will Michael, estranged from his father for five years, take the bait?
Her stomach rolled. She’d waited for her phone to ring all day. Waited for Michael to scream and shout when he saw her name under the headline. Her cell had remained ominously silent. Other calls came from people claiming to be friends of the Canton family, former trainers, and new trainers and offering to talk about the Canton men. She hadn’t listened to any of them. Maybe she should have but, deep inside, the innate need to do what was best for Michael lingered.