Chapter One

 

"She won't stand a chance against you, not with you weighing more than twice what she does."

Tray Nix didn't need to be told that. After all, he'd yet to come across a woman who could hold her own against him. The same could be said for ninety-nine percent of the male population. Even though his pro football years were behind him, he still competed in weight lifting events. Just the width of his shoulders was enough to convince most people not to confront him.

"I can see why they arranged to have Carnal harvest her," his companion continued as they waited for the next Copper County race to begin. "The bitch is making fools of the male jockeys here."

By they, Carnal Incorporated executive Robert Smith was referring to several heavy betters who couldn't bring themselves to back a female jockey. To them, horse racing was a boys' club. Women could sit in the stands like Robert and he were doing. They could even own horses and work as trainers. However, pitting their racing skills against men, even if the men barely topped one hundred pounds, went against everything the betters believed in.

"They should lay down money on her," Tray suggested. "Seems to me that would end what they consider a problem and turn it into an asset."

Robert chuckled, not that anyone who didn't know the expensively-dressed fifties something man would call it a chuckle. To an outsider, the sound probably came across as a warning, Robert's way of saying he didn't give a damn about anyone's opinion.

The thing was, Tray didn't give a damn what Robert thought and Robert knew it. Their relationship was both complex and simple, two men with very little in common who nevertheless had agreed to work together.

Work? That was one way of putting it.

"I wagered a grand on her." Robert had to press his shoulder against Trey's so they could carry out a private conversation in the crowded stands. "What about you?"

Damn it, betting that much on a weekday ten-furlong race held in a rural county would stand out. Robert had gotten rich too fast helping run Carnal and had lost perspective. If they were going to pull off the harvesting, they had to keep a low profile-at least as low profile as Tray was capable of. No matter that he was casually dressed in jeans and blue T-shirt, he stood out. He always did.

The eight Thoroughbreds in this race were being loaded into the starting gates. From this distance, the animals didn't look that imposing, but he'd been around enough horses to have a healthy respect for them, especially high strung Thoroughbreds. No way would he be on the back of a twelve-hundred pound beast hell bent on galloping as hard as its heart allowed, especially with other straining beasts all around.

Robert and he'd come to Copper County to harvest Marina Stenson but he'd insisted on first observing her in her natural habitat. It wasn't that he gave a damn about the woman herself-years of being a broad-magnet tended to make them all blur together-but her choice of jobs fascinated him.

Some five minutes ago, he'd been standing near the paddock area watching the horses being mounted. Because the jockeys had all worn helmets and silks, at first he couldn't make her out. Then one had turned sideways, giving him a glimpse of breasts under red and black silks. He thought the male jockeys might shun her but they didn't. Interesting.

She'd hoisted herself onto the back of a chestnut mare, picked up the reins, and leaned over the mare's neck to scratch her between the ears. Watching Marina, he'd wondered what her hands would feel like on him.

Hell, that wasn't what today was about. In time, if things played out the way they were supposed to, she'd learn to accept his hands all over her. Maybe move from tolerating to-

A gunshot jerked him back to the present. The horses exploded from the starting gate, hooves pounding the packed earth. This was a far cry from the Kentucky Derby, but the crowd's excitement was contagious. Silent, he leaned forward, his gaze locked on the blur of red and black now in second place. Marina's mount ran as if she was trying to beat the ground into submission. Despite that, Marina seemed part of the animal under her, quiet water surrounded by raging rapids. Thanks to his familiarity with horses, it didn't take him long to pick up on a key reason for her success. No matter what was happening around her, Marina remained calm and that calmness was reaching her horse. The mare stopped attacking the turf. Her strides lengthened and became smooth. Two furlongs from the end, rider and horse flowed past the lead horse and cruised to an easy win.

"Damn!" Robert exclaimed. "That's the easiest money I've made all year."

The horses cantered around the track as their riders brought them down from the highs they'd been on. Marina's mare still reminded him of moving water while Marina now sat straight and proud, looking all around. He could see why someone who hadn't bet on her might see her stance as arrogance. What he didn't understand was how anyone could hate her enough to arrange to have her freedom taken away.

What did he care! By the end of the day, he'd start training Marina Stenson as a sex slave. She'd either be put up for auction at the end or sold before he'd finished working with her. Chances were she'd never sit on horseback again.

Hell, he knew what facing the end of something he loved felt like.