Saddle Up(4)

“I’m Two Wolves,” he introduced himself.

“I kinda figured that out,” Miranda said dryly.

“This is Steffi Hoffman,” he said. “A…client of mine.”

“A pleasure,” Miranda replied, once more offering her hand.

The brunette ignored her.

Shrugging off the snub, Miranda asked, “When you finish here, do you think we could talk for a few minutes? I have some ideas on camera placement I’d like to run by you.”

“Sure thing,” he replied. “But I’m on Steffi’s dime at present. Can you give us about fifteen more minutes?”

“No problem.” Miranda perched on the fence and continued to watch him work with a much more cooperative Picasso. Although she’d found him attractive before, the amateur videos she’d watched didn’t come close to doing him justice. No indeed-y.

“Since you don’t like the longe whip,” Steffi said, “could you show me how to throw your rope?”

The ploy was painfully obvious, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He sidled up from behind and placed his hands over hers to demonstrate the motion of throwing the rope. Steffi shot Miranda a triumphant look. Her possessiveness hinted that there was more to the relationship than simple instruction. No surprise there. Miranda turned away with a pang of envy. Although she couldn’t deny the instant attraction she felt toward him, rich and beautiful always won out over plain with brains.

*

“You worked magic with him,” Steffi gushed after Keith handed the horse off to Steffi’s groom, without the stud chain. “I didn’t realize until I met you how much I need your…services. When can we do another session?”

Ignoring the innuendo in her tone, Keith forced a smile. “I’m a clinician, not a trainer.”

“Maybe you don’t understand,” she insisted. “I can pay you whatever you like.”

“It’s not always about money, Steffi.” Or meaningless sex. But it had taken him a long time to realize it. “I’ve already shown you what he needs. Now it’s up to you to make it work.”

“But what about what I need?” she asked, any pretense of subtlety now gone.

How many times had he heard lines like that from rich women looking for a hired stud? He’d lost count. “I’m sorry, Steffi, but my time isn’t my own.” He nodded at the slim girl with the camera, whose name he’d already forgotten. Melissa? Melinda? Something with an M. He was glad she’d hung around.

Steffi gave the camera girl an icy look. “Another time then. You have my number?”

“Yes. I certainly do,” Keith reassured her. In the beginning he’d been flattered by all the attention and had rarely turned down an attractive woman, but eventually he’d tired of the constant propositions.

After extricating himself from Steffi, Keith returned to find the camera girl leaning on the gleaming white PVC fence rail.

“I guess you must get that a lot,” she said.

“Get what?” He cocked a brow, feigning ignorance.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, a blush tinting her cheeks. “I won’t keep you long if you have another…er…engagement.” She glanced in Steffi’s direction.

“No engagements beyond my exhibition…unless you’re free?” The words slipped out thoughtlessly.

Surprise flickered in her gray eyes. “Free for what?”

“Whatever you like.” He gave her the slow, sexy smile that never failed him.

She stared back at him. “You’re joking, right?”

“Am I laughing?”

Her eyes met his for only a millisecond before she looked away. Her face colored even deeper than before. Odd. California women didn’t blush. She seemed so different from all the others he’d met here. Refreshingly different. He found her natural look and direct manner appealing after a steady diet of women like Steffi.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“So do I, but we all need downtime now and then.” He flashed a grin. “Just ask Picasso.”

“You have quite a way with horses,” she said. “It’s an impressive talent.”

“I have a number of other talents I’d like to impress you with,” he quipped back.

Her brows came together in a puzzled look. “Are you flirting with me? You’re wasting your time,” she said.

She was rebuffing him? When was the last time that had happened? He couldn’t even remember. It was a novel experience, and not one he particularly cared for.

She was gazing at him steadily. “Can we please talk about the cameras now?”

“Sure thing.” Her rejection stung, but Keith shrugged it off. If he wanted company, there were hundreds of women coming to his clinic. He could take his pick.

*

“Keith, you had us all entranced,” Bibi gushed after his performance. “You’re such a natural. I know you came out here only to do your clinic, but have you thought about staying in Southern California?”

“Staying? For how long?” he asked.

“Indefinitely,” she replied. “I’m talking about relocation.”

“I really hadn’t considered it before.” It was a half-truth.