An excerpt from
Copyright 2019, Ciana Stone
Chapter One
The volume of the music decreased, and Mathias called out. "Happy New Year Everyone!"
Russell clapped along with everyone else as fireworks lit the sky over the lake, the pops and booms competing with the cheers and happy voices around him. This New Year's Eve was far different from any other he'd experienced.
A woman he was in partnership with to build butterfly houses and apiaries, Reese Quinn, had just exchanged vows with a Navy Seal assigned to the Clear Creek Training Center outside the town of Cotton Creek, in Cray County Texas.
He'd guess that at least half the residents of Cotton Creek were there, along with all the instructors and support staff from the training center. They'd said their "I do's" before midnight and now were having their first dance as a married couple.
The dance floor was crowded with people, and it surprised him that being on the sidelines, watching, was something uncommon for him. He'd typically have a date for any social function. There were always women available for such things. This, however, was an event he'd elected to attend alone.
"Happy New Year, Mr. Walker."
The female voice behind him had him rising from his seat and turning. Dr. Naomie Taylor smiled up at him. She held a glass of champagne in each hand. "Join me?"
"Why not?" Russell accepted the glass, touched its rim against hers and then drank. "Happy New Year, Naomie."
She put one hand on a hip and struck a sassy pose. "Why Russell Walker, is that the best you can do?"
He recognized the tease in her tone and responded in kind. "Well, I don't know. What would you have me do, Dr. Taylor?"
"Ask a gal who has no date to dance?"
"That I can do."
He offered his hand, and she placed hers in it. Once on the dance floor, he swung her around. Naomie smiled up at him, and Russell took a selfish moment to admire her beauty and revel in the feel of her in his arms.
"Wasn't it a beautiful wedding?" she asked and sighed. "Just perfect."
"Yes, it was. And now that it's done, will you be moving to Heritage?"
"Really? Business? Now?"
"Important business." He felt the need to interject their business relationship into any encounter. As much for himself as for her.
"Fine. I have about one more week to finalize the set up at the SynthBee production facility, and then I'll be ready to turn my mind to the breeding program. Have you looked at the portfolio of potential horses I want to evaluate at and consider for the program?"
"I have. It's a fairly extensive list. Why so many?"
"Because most won't pan out and we won't accept anything less than the best." She paused to give him a piercing look he'd come to recognize as her issuing a challenge. "Correct?"
"Correct." He agreed and added. "It appears you're going to be spending a good bit of my money."
"It'll be worth it."
"It better."
"Have a little faith, Mr. Walker. Have I let you down yet?"
That earned a laugh from him. "Naomie, you've done a lot since I've known you. Infuriated, astonished, impressed, confused, amused, cajoled and even convinced me to take part in things I'd never normally agree to but to date, you haven't let me down."
"Well, there you go." She looked around for a moment then up at him. "In the spirit of honesty between partners, I have to tell you that I smoked a big fatty with Lula just before the ceremony and had two glasses of champagne, so I'm a little toasted."
"And you're telling me this why?"
"So, you know I'm not in charge of my faculties tonight, and you can't hold this against me."
"Hold what--?"
Before he could get the rest of the words out, she'd snaked an arm up to take hold of the back of his neck. Naomie plastered herself against him, pulled him down to meet her lips and planted a kiss on him.
The thought entered his mind that he should end it. Entered and then left. She'd given herself an excuse for her actions. He didn't have and wouldn't try to invent one. He'd wondered about this almost since the day they met, and that was quite a few months ago.
Now he knew. It was every bit as powerful as he'd imagined, and he'd imagined quite a lot. Russell wasn't a man prone to being surprised. He attributed that to age and life experience. Naomie Taylor had been nothing but surprises, and that was, perhaps, one of the most appealing things about her.
Few people had the ability to shock, stun and completely daze him. She possessed it in spades.
Just like she possessed the ability to strip years from a middle age man's libido and have him feeling like a young chap again, randy and ready to claim what he desired. He'd not deny himself the moment, even if he didn't plan on it ever happening again, and maybe because of that.
So, Russell took control, wrapped one arm around her waist to hitch her up nice and snug against him and indulged himself in the feel and taste of her. His ardor increased at the small sound she made and the way she pressed closer. It was fortunate they were in a crowd of people, or he'd have been hard pressed not to find a place to lay her down and indulge in more than a kiss.
When the kiss ended, she lowered down from tiptoes and looked up at him. "Happy New Year, Mr. Walker." Her voice was a bit breathy and her skin a bit flushed, which pleased him to no end.
"Happy New Year, Naomie. Here's to 2019 being one hell of an interesting year."
Just then Wiley walked over. "Russell, good to see you."
"And you, Wiley. Happy New Year."
Russell noticed that Naomie quietly departed but looked back over her shoulder at him just before she disappeared into the crowd. He spent a few minutes talking with Wiley, then wished the newlyweds well and left.
As his driver headed for the small airfield, Russell thought about the kiss. It would be the first and last. He'd expected there would come a day when they'd act on the attraction between them, and he'd wondered if they'd part with less or more than they started with.
Now he knew, and he wasn't particularly thrilled. She wasn't the woman for him, no matter how much she stirred his blood. He forced his thoughts to a topic guaranteed to claim his attention because it was his greatest passion in life.
Heritage. His family's legacy.
It was what was most important. For six generations the Walker family had been guardians of Heritage, each generation expanding its scope and value. Under his watch, they'd grown to be the second largest ranch in the country, with diverse holdings and new divisions being formed each year.
His children and his brother's daughter stood to inherit what, if he succeeded in his ambitions, would be the largest ranch in the country, and a legacy to pass on for generations.
Those thoughts occupied him until he was in the helicopter, being flown home. They passed over the site of the wedding, and he thought about the woman he'd kissed. A week from now she'd move into one of the cottages on Heritage's main homestead and take charge of what might be the most ambitious quarter horse breeding program this country had ever heard of.
If successful, they would dominate the market and be in demand beyond the boundaries of the United States. Australia and South American ranches were stiff competitors in the market for the best quarter horses.
Russell believed Naomie could get Heritage into the lead in that market.
And he thought about the kiss. How long had it been since a kiss had affected him so strongly? Actually, had he ever been this affected?
He wasn't a young man. At fifty-five, he'd suffered through two contentious divorces and one even nastier broken engagement and had sworn off relationships. He was twenty years older than Naomie. Too old. Old enough to be her father. Hell, he had kids her age.
Cradle robbing wasn't his style. Neither was being a dirty old man. He refused to be one of those middle-aged men who were stupid enough to think that a young beautiful, not to mention, a brilliant woman would fall for a man old enough to be her father.
It wasn't going to happen. Sooner or later the truth reared up and kicked you in the head. You couldn't compete with the young men, and there would, without question, come a time when she'd wonder if maybe she wasn't wasting time with an old man. No. He and Naomie Taylor weren't going to be anything other than employee and employer, colleagues or partners. Anything but that.
He nodded to himself. One thing was for sure. When he made up his mind about something, it would take an act of God to change it. If there was one thing he was good at, it was sticking to his guns.
Then why was it that when he was finally home, sitting on the back deck with a glass of good bourbon in his hand, looking out at the land he loved so much, he couldn't stop thinking about that kiss?