"What are you drinking?"

Clint gave me a sideways glance as I slid onto the bar stool beside him. I could instantly tell a couple of girls were real peeved to see me with him. I just tossed my hair and smiled warmly at him, laying my hand on his arm.

He looked at my hand, then back at my face before turning back to his drink. He took a long sip and put his drink down again before answering.

"Whiskey."

I wrinkled my nose at that. The bartender came over. He was in his early thirties, like Clint. No wedding ring. Not that I cared, I just wanted to know before I used him as leverage.

"I'm Dave. What can I get you?"

Dave gave me a megawatt smile. I batted my eyelashes at him to annoy Clint.

"I'll have a tequila. Blanco. No ice."

"You want lime with that?"

"Lemon please. And a water on the side."

He nodded and poured me a drink. I reached for my wallet but Dave held up his hands.

"No way, Ms. Delancey. This is on the house."

"Thank you, Dave."

I was always gratified when people knew who I was. Especially this far from the Delancey Estate. I wasn't world famous or anything, but I was well known in Texas.

And Nashville of course.

Clint said nothing as I reached for the lemon and squeezed it into my drink. I licked my fingers clean before lifting my drink towards my lips. He turned to me, his hand gently catching my wrist.

We were so close, we were almost embracing. I stared into his eyes, daring him to take what I was offering. He wanted to, that much was plain.

We stayed like that for a moment and then he let go.

"You should not be drinking."

I raised my glass to him.

"But I'm off duty."

I winked, poking his chest.

"And so are you."

He sighed heavily.

"How old are you anyway, Pheonyx?"

I coughed, almost choking on my drink. Did he think I was underage? No wonder the man ran away from me!

I fluttered my eyes at him playfully.

"Don't worry Clint. I'm legal."

He narrowed his eyes at me but I could tell he was intrigued.

"Legal for what?"

I shrugged, sipping my tequila. A lady did not shoot her tequila. She sipped it.

I downed the rest anyway and slammed the glass down. The bartender was back in two shakes as Clint looked at me with a worried look on his face.

"Another?"

"Yes please."

Clint's eyes were wide with alarm.

"Pheonyx, what are you doing?"

I smiled at him.

"I'm bored. All I do is work work work. I want to have a little fun."

I smiled at him.

"Don't you?"

"No. I do not want to have fun. I hate fun. Now you should get on home like a good little girl and-"

"I am not a little girl."

We were staring at each other, both of us breathing hard. It was like we were in an Old West gunfight, waiting for the other one to draw. I wondered for a moment if I was the bad guy or the Sheriff in this scenario.

"Pheonyx-"

He sighed heavily, giving up. I sipped my drink and looked around the bar. I had won. But if he was going to ignore me, I was going to have to talk to someone.

"What do you guys do for fun around here anyway, Dave?"

"Talkin' to a pretty lady is at the top of my list."

He grinned at me, wiping a glass with a dishtowel. I felt Clint tense up beside me.

"You don't say?"

I finished my drink and Dave started to pour me another.

"That won't be necessary, Dave."

Clint stood up and gripped my arm.

"Come on, I need to get home."

I shook him off.

"Well, I don't."

"Listen Pheonyx- I'm too old for you."

"What are you talking about Clint?"

I grinned at him, making it clear I knew exactly what he was talking about. He ran his hand through his hair, making him look adorably boyish.

I batted my eyelashes at him.

"Who cares about age? Besides, I'm just having a drink and enjoying myself."

He grit his teeth, looking at me like I was driving him crazy. Good. If he was crazy, maybe he'd give in to this fire raging between the two of us.

"I am not leaving you here with all these men."

"What men?"

I looked around innocently. Hmmm… there were quite a few fellas giving me the eye. I might have been nervous if Clint wasn't with me. But he was. So I played dumb, wondering how far he was going to take this.

I gestured to the room at large.

"There are plenty of women here."

He leaned down, bracing his arm on the back of my chair. He was inches away from me. I couldn't help but stare at his lips. They looked… surprisingly soft.

"They don't look like you."

I was breathless, thinking he was about to kiss me.

"What's wrong with the way I look, Clint?"

His eyes searched my face, dropping to my lips. This was happening. This was really, truly about to happen. My curiosity would finally be assuaged- I would find out what Clint felt like- how he tasted- how-

"Everything is wrong with the way you look."

I looked away from him, my mood instantly deflated. I felt like I'd had the wind knocked out of me. He didn't like the way I looked? Had he been looking at me with disgust all along? I felt like a fool.

Way to misread the situation, Phee.

I blinked back tears, standing up and slapping twenty dollars on the bar.

Then I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.

"Pheonyx!"

I could hear him behind me, stomping in those big boots of his, but I didn't stop. I ran down main street, cursing him with every step.

He called my name several times but I didn't look back. Eventually the footsteps fell away. I stomped home, wishing I hadn't drank or tried to flirt with him. Wishing I'd never laid eyes on Clint McRae.

So what if my riding was better than ever?

It was only my second year in real competition. I'd already been booked for horse shows all over the country. I was already good.

I was going to win a lot of competitions this year. Maybe even the National Championship.

What the hell did I need him for?

JJ had hired him, that's why. He was my mentor and had been guiding my career since the beginning. He was the reason I had more sponsorships than any other trick rider in the world.

He was more than my attorney. He was kind of like a father to me growing up. He never missed a birthday or Christmas. He had always been so good to me.

I couldn't let him down.

Maybe if I just ignored Clint… took his advice and that was it. Maybe if I actually won the Championship I could live down the humiliation of this night.

But that was months away.

And it sure as shit didn't solve my current dilemna.

I kicked off my boots and stomped into my bathroom, turning on the shiny faucet over the soaking tub. I scowled, sniffing my favorite bath soak without enjoyment. Even that was ruined for me.

I sat on the edge of the tub, utterly dejected.

He didn't like the way I looked.

I hadn't dated much. Or at all really. But I knew that I was cute enough. Wasn't I?

Back in high school the boys had been too afraid of my cousins to mess with me. The Delancey brothers were protective of me since the day I was born. Never mind their tendency to hit first and ask questions later.

Yep, they were brawlers and had warned off all the boys in a fifty-mile radius back home. Same in the equestrian world, which were the only other men I knew. But I still got male attention.

Just… from a distance.

I sighed, peeling off my clothes. Maybe I didn't dress fancy enough. Or show enough skin. Maybe my inexperience was the issue.

Or maybe he really just didn't like the way I looked.

I peeled off my clothes, sneaking a look at myself in the mirror. I might be a little curvy, but men liked that, right? Or was he the sort who liked his ladies stick thin?

I shook my head. It didn't matter what he liked. I wasn't it for him. I'd just have to accept that and move on.

I sank into the bubbles, feeling the tension finally slide off my shoulders.

If Clint didn't want to be my tutor, I'd find someone else who would. As picky as I was, I was feeling more inclined to throw caution to the wind. I wasn't going to offer up my V card to the nearest passing stranger, but I was going to get some action. Practice my flirting at least.

Maybe I'd get a date on a Friday night once in a while, instead of ordering in and watching TV in my pajamas. Yep, my cousin's ban on dating was long over. I was going to get me a man or two.

Come hell or high water.

Better yet, I was going to show Clint I didn't give a damn what he thought of me.

In the ring, or out of it.