Winner Takes All - Anna Harrington Page 0,13

he mumbled and reached up to rub his nape. “It’s almost time for supper. The sun’s going to set soon, and your uncle will be waiting on you.”

Yet even as he said that, he didn’t lift his attention from the sheets of paper scattered across the table between them. Each page held a detailed record of everything they knew about the horses entered in the Derby. Bloodlines, trainers, jockeys, observations about the way they’d been exercised during the past week, how they’d reacted to changes in weather and distractions at the track…It was the entire race, laid out on paper. They’d spent their previous afternoons pouring over each one, looking for any weaknesses in their competition.

Now, the afternoon was ending, the sun rapidly sinking toward the horizon, and they’d reached the end of information they’d been able to gather about the other horses. There was no more reason to keep studying the pages, no reason to keep looking for advantages in the race.

And no reason why she wanted to leave.

“Uncle Jonas won’t hold dinner for me,” she assured him. “He’ll gladly feed my portion of the roast to his hounds.” She eased back in her chair and took a long perusal around the kitchen. “Besides, I like it here.”

She did, too. Immensely.

She’d been here every day, from right after their morning training sessions until sunset, when she drove herself back to Uncle Jonas’s on the little gig he’d let her borrow. Only part of the time spent here had gone to discussing Midnight. The rest of it had been spent in other wonderful ways…touring the farm to see where Shaw trained his horses and those he was paid to train for others, watching him work with several of the horses, talking quietly for hours about what they’d each been doing since he’d left Willow Wood. She’d even attempted to cook dinner for him once, only to surrender the idea when she’d nearly caught herself on fire.

She was comfortable here. The place felt like home.

No, he felt like home.

She waved a hand toward the hearth. “I could stay and cook us dinner. We could—”

“Haul in buckets and buckets of water to put out the new fire?” He didn’t look up, but she could see the smile curling at the edges of his mouth.

She sniffed indignantly. “I barely singed my skirt the last time, I’ll have you know.”

His low chuckle warmed the kitchen. The teasing was infectious, and she laughed along at herself.

Being with him again was so easy, so relaxed. During the past week, they’d certainly been together enough for her to realize that. Except for at night, they’d been together nearly every moment, sharing instructions for the jockeys, debating the merits and weaknesses of the rest of the field, talking about horses and racing…talking about everything except the attraction that had once been between them. Heated. Aching. Undeniable.

Her smile faded. She swallowed hard and dared to ask, “Did you miss me?”

He froze, his hand in mid-reach for another one of the sheets. He paused only for a beat before moving on, but long enough for her to know that she’d rattled him. Because he didn’t look up at her. That was the Jackson Shaw she knew. If he didn’t acknowledge a problem, it didn’t exist. That was why he’d insisted on writing down all the information on the rest of the field so that he’d be forced to acknowledge the competition and deal with it. That was also why he’d left her at Uncle Jonas’s door that first day, why he’d never once attempted to contact her during the years they were apart…She was a problem he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Doesn’t matter,” he murmured, his eyes glued to the paper. “Portland’s filly has a good bloodline back through the Goldophin—”

“Of course it matters.” She leaned forward on the chair, setting her unwanted coffee aside. “I missed you, Jack. A great deal.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Giving up on the sheets, he tossed the page aside with an aggravated flick of his wrist. “What we had was youthful infatuation, that’s all.”

“It was more than that.” She reached across the table to place her hand over his. “In your heart, you know that.”

“What I know is that a viscount’s daughter had no future with a stable master.” His eyes flared with self-recrimination, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “That’s the way the world is, and that’s how it will be long after we’re gone. A few kisses could never change that.”

“It was more