swore under his breath. If she tried to use the low-voltage cattle prod on Brock, she could end up in jail on assault charges.
“I have every right to be here, Miss Champion,” Brock said in a firm voice. “But I have no intention of harming your bull or interfering with you in any way. What I’m hoping is that you and I might come to an understanding—maybe even become friends.”
“Friends!” The word exploded out of her. “After what you did to my family, there’s no way we’ll ever be friends. And there’s no way I’m letting you near Whirlwind!” Gripping the handle of the Hot-Shot, she brandished it in Brock’s face.
“Really, Miss Champion.” He took a reflexive step backward. “There’s no need—”
“Just go!” she said. “Get out of here before I lose control and jab you with this thing. And take your two-faced errand boy with you.”
“Lexie.” Shane touched her shoulder. “I never meant to—”
She turned on him. “Don’t say another word. You’ve already let me know whose side you’re on. I know it’s too late to stop you from riding Whirlwind tonight, but once it’s over, I never want to see your face again!”
* * *
Lexie stood by Whirlwind’s pen as the two men walked away. They’d departed politely enough, muttering excuses as they left, but the awareness that she’d made an emotional fool of herself stung like lye in a cut. Seeing Shane—Shane, who’d protected her through the night and set her on fire with his kiss—standing there, examining her bull with a man she hated, had pushed her past her limits. She’d grabbed the Hot-Shot and come charging in like a madwoman.
At least she hadn’t zapped anybody. That would’ve meant real trouble. But she was still quivering with anger—mostly at herself. Once more, she’d played into Shane’s hands. And once more, he’d betrayed her trust.
Damn!
She glanced at her watch. It was coming up on noon. Aaron had wandered off to get his own lunch and would probably end up playing blackjack at the casino on the south end of the fairgrounds. As long as he kept his cell phone on, and as long as he was here when she needed to load, unload, and drive, Lexie didn’t mind. At least he wasn’t trying to be her babysitter.
She could use some lunch herself. Breakfast had been light and early. But now her appetite had fled. She felt vaguely sick. If only she hadn’t made such a spectacle of herself in front of Shane, Brock, and anyone else who happened to be watching.
Whirlwind was still out of sorts, snorting and slamming himself against the side of his pen, as if trying to get his neighbor’s attention. The big yellow bull kept on eating, paying him no mind. Lexie reached between the rails and scratched the special spot behind Whirlwind’s ear. “It’s all right, big guy,” she murmured. “Let him ignore you. Soon you’ll get the chance to show the world what you’re made of.”
She could only hope it was true. Whirlwind was a young bull, unaccustomed to being without his companions. In an unfamiliar situation, he could become surly or distracted. He might even refuse to buck. It had never happened before, but today nothing would surprise her.
Maybe a walk would ease her dark mood. She’d been with Whirlwind most of the morning, fussing and worrying over him. It might be a good thing if she left him for a while. Maybe he’d even calm down. The complex was secure. Nothing was going to happen here.
Lexie forced herself to walk away from the pen. Tess was right, she reminded herself. Whirlwind wasn’t her pet. He was property, bred to make money for the ranch. But she had raised him from babyhood; and while she had breath in her body, no one was going to sell him, especially to Brock Tolman.
She walked through the bucking chute area and out to the arena. Tingley Coliseum was a multipurpose indoor structure with a seating capacity of 11,000. At this hour it was a vast, empty cavern, dimly lit, with a few workers moving among the rows of seats. The shark cage, a penlike structure, its top flat and its base planted in the earth, had been set up in the middle of the arena. From here, the press, the video crews, and a few elite guests could get a close-up view of the dangerous sport. The top of the shark cage also served as a stage and a safety island. Jets on