Page 1 of The Front Runner
Stefan
Six Months Ago
“Dalca, you piece of...”
Here we go. The woman who works for, and is engaged to, my biggest competitor is going to fly off the handle. Again. Billie Black is especially talented at this kind of behavior. She reminds me of my little sister. Entitled and impulsive. The difference is my sister likes me.
This woman does not.
It’s a bold spot to make a scene. I’ll give her that. We’re in the middle of a public roadway at the prestigious Bell Point Park. Our horses are ready for their race. In fact, hers is standing right behind her with the petite, fair-haired jockey they seem to use exclusively now.
I slide my hands into the pockets of my suit pants and quirk one eyebrow at her in challenge. I would be lying if I were to say I don’t take some small pleasure in riling people up. File that away under the behavior of a child who didn’t get enough attention growing up. Any attention is good attention, and this type of attention is especially amusing for me.
But the raven-haired veterinarian steps in front of the other two women, hitting me with a look that would make a lesser man’s balls shrivel.
“Stefan, walk with me.” She crooks a finger and heads in the opposite direction without even looking back, like she just knows I’ll follow.
I’m not sure what’s going on. It feels like I’m in trouble; it looks like I’m in for some sort of scolding. I smooth my hands over the lapels of my suit jacket and clear my throat in the way of saying goodbye to the two women glaring at me and spin on my heel. Billie makes an immature gagging noise as I walk away, but I tip my chin up and keep walking after the woman who has piqued my interest since the first time I laid eyes on her.
Dr. Mira Thorne. My favorite equine veterinarian in the area for more than one reason. The woman is beautiful. But more than that, she’s smart. Cunning. Thinks quickly on her feet. She’s impressive in so many ways.
She’s achallenge.
And I love a challenge.
I’ve seen her save more than one horse down at the track with her quick thinking. She may be younger than the other track veterinarians, but it strikes me she could probably run circles around the rest of them.
Her impressive brain doesn’t stop me from admiring the way her hips sway as she marches away from me, straight toward the barns. She takes a hard left near a tractor and moves to the other side where no one will see or hear us. My stomach flips.
What the hell is going on?
Dr. Thorne is an alluring woman, and I’m still human enough to admit that. There’s an arrogant edge to her cool exterior, hawkish intelligence in her eyes. A spark that, with the right fuel, just might combust.
She spins on me, her dark eyes pinched as she homes straight in on mine. I like that she doesn’t shy away from eye contact, and I meet it, even if there’s a minor part of me that’s concerned about what she’s going to say next. Something feels off.
“How can I help you, Dr. Thorne?” I force my voice to sound smooth and confident, even though I’m brimming with questions.
“It’s more about how you can help yourself.”
I tilt my head at her, studying her face, admiring the straight line of her nose, the angle of her brows, the puffiness of her lips, and the stubborn set to her jaw.
“I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Stefan.” I like the way she calls me by my first name—the way it sounds in her mouth. “The horse racing business is a tight-knit industry in this area. This community is small, and Ruby Creek is even smaller. Making enemies of Billie and the Harding family is not in your best interest. You compete on the track, not off.”
I almost want to roll my eyes. “Thank you for your input, Dr. Thorne. But unfortunately for Billie and the Harding family, I like to compete everywhere.”
She nods at me slowly, turning my words over in her head as her arms come up to cross under her full breasts. They’re magnificent. I’ve noticed over the past couple of years that she tries to hide them with layers. Sometimes, when it’s damp and cold, she wears this big, brown Carhartt coat, but today she’s wearing a fitted, quilted vest over her long-sleeved T-shirt that does her nothing but favors. It nips in around her waist, and I swear she almost can’t get the zipper all the way up.
But I don’t stare. I’m not a total Neanderthal.
“Then you’ll need to find another veterinarian to use.”
I scoff. “You can’t be serious. All because I made a perfectly fair offer to buy one of their horses?”
Her chocolate eyes are all fire now. “First of all, that was a very subtle attempt at blackmail, and we both know it. But bravo on walking that line so skillfully. This time it’s different, Stefan. You’ve gone too far. I don’t work for men who employ predators.”
I rear back, ice racing down my spine and stiffening my entire body. “What did you just say to me?”
Mira drops her chin and offers me an unimpressed look. “You heard me. You’re a smart man, so don’t play stupid about Patrick Cassel. You’ve taken this vendetta too far by weaponizing your employee.”
