Purebred - Softcover

Rosemoor, Patricia

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0373696124 ISBN 13: 9780373696123

Publisher: Harlequin Intrigue, 2012

Synopsis

Horse trainer Aidan McKenna had the sight, the ability to glimpse into the future. He also had a family curse that threatened the life of any woman he loved. So when the dreams began—searing, erotic dreams starring his new partner, Cat Clarke—he resisted his fierce desire with all his strength. Because Aidan knew the dangers of ever falling in love again.

Aidan and the beautiful horse breeder had staked everything on their racing venture. But when Cat's missing stable manager turned up dead, it became clear they had more to lose than races. If he couldn't stop himself from loving her, Aidan knew he had to find a way to defeat destiny to save the woman of his dreams.

About this title

About the Author

Patricia Rosemoor loves bringing a mix of thrills and chills and romance to Harlequin Intrigue readers. She's won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and a Reviewers’ Choice and Career Achievement Awards from RT Book Reviews. She teaches courses on writing popular fiction and suspense-thriller writing in the fiction writing department of Columbia College Chicago. Check out her website, www.PatriciaRosemoor.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

County Galway, Ireland

"Pegeen would have loved to ride you," Aidan McKenna said past the lump in his throat as he led Mac Finnian into his stall after his morning workout and cooldown.

Mac snorted and pranced in his stall, ready to run again.

Indeed, Aidan could read him, had been able to do so since the black colt was born. He'd always had a connection with the horses he trained—he was a McKenna, after all—even if that particular ability was less developed than that of his brothers. He, instead, wrestled with dreams and nightmares, trying to decide which were true portents of the future and which were figments of his overwrought imagination. Sadly, he didn't always get it right. But he didn't want to think on it now—didn't want to remember his tragic mistake with Pegeen.

Instead he concentrated on the strong connection he had with Mac, the only McKenna ability welcome in life. 'Twas almost as if they were one.

Aidan removed the lead and then unfastened Mac's halter and slipped it off his big head. Everything about the colt was big—he stood a bit more than seventeen hands, nearly a full hand larger than the average Thoroughbred. Thankfully, even the smallest jockeys were flexible enough to sit his broad back.

Aidan could almost see Mac running in the Irish Derby, the woman he'd loved with her shocking red hair and bold ways atop the black colt. Pegeen would have been grinning from ear to ear as she eagerly raced him. But of course now that could never happen.

From her grave, Sheelin O'Keefe had seen to that.

Despite his brother Cashel's dire warnings, Aidan had taken up with the Irish jockey, and Sheelin's curse had ended Pegeen Flynn's life before she'd had a chance to really live.

After the better part of a year without her, still mourning the only woman he'd ever cared for, he was wondering if the pain of losing Pegeen would ever subside when Cashel entered the stable, followed by the dark-haired lass he'd seen watching Mac's run with his brother. She was a looker—a natural beauty with lush curves. Not wanting his brother to realize where his mind had wandered a moment ago, Aidan immediately tucked away his thoughts for later. For when he was alone.

Giving Mac a peppermint, he shut the stall door behind him and stared at the light in his older brother's eyes, the same McKenna-green as both his own and their younger brother Tiernan's. The three McKenna men looked alike, too, all tall, broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair brushing chiseled features. Today, Cashel's were softened into something that looked like hope.

"Aidan, our problems are solved!" Cashel said. "This is Catrina Clarke from America. We can have the backing we need to race Mac there."

But Aidan didn't have reason to trust hope. "And what kind of backing is it you offer from America, Miss Clarke?"

"Call me Cat. I'm a breeder and I came to Ireland on a buying trip, to add new blood to my stock. But when I saw Mac Finnian run..."

Her breath caught in her throat and Aidan's caught in his. It wasn't just her natural beauty, but something in her voice—something that told him she was more than a businesswoman when it came to fine horseflesh—that seduced him.

Just for a moment.

Then he shook himself free.

"Out with it, then," he said.

"I know you don't have the funds to race him in the U.S., and I'm willing to make a deal so that will be possible." Her smile widened, lighting up her whole face.

Once again, he was caught by the fire that burned within her.

Until the colt kicked the stall door for attention. Mac had hung his head into the aisle and now snorted at his owners. Aidan reached back and scratched the sweet spot on his long, muscular neck before turning his attention back to his brother.

"We're not selling anyone half interest in our colt!"

"But that's not the deal I offered!" the woman protested.

Knowing he had to get away from the Clarke woman before he caved, Aidan snorted and headed for the exit. Cashel followed and Aidan realized the lass had chosen to remain where she was. He took a good look back. There she stood, her back stiff, her mouth now in a straight line. And then her cell phone rang and after a glance at her screen, she frowned and wandered off to take the call in private.

"Of course I wouldn't agree to sell," Cashel said, grabbing his arm and stopping him from leaving. "The Clarke woman wanted to buy Mac outright, but I told her that wasn't possible. What kind of sodding fool do you take me for?"

"So what are her plans for Mac Finnian?"

"She simply offered a very fair partnership. She'll not own any of Mac, simply get a share in the winnings until we retire him from—"

"How much, then?"

"A third."

Aidan gaped at his brother. "'Tis ridiculous!" he shouted.

Cashel raised his voice, as well. "You want to give it up, then, just stay here and run him on Irish grass?"

Looking out through the open door into the misting rain and the emerald green pastures beyond the barn, Aidan wanted to say the colt would do well enough, but he knew "well enough" would be a disappointment to them both. The previous September, Mac had won a couple of Group 2 races by a nose but had only come in second in the Group 1 stakes race at the Curragh and had come in third in another.

In a country where races were run on grass like that which stretched on forever before him, they'd bred a colt who wanted to run on dirt. A colt who ran like the wind on dirt. A colt who could win big on dirt.

But it wouldn't be here or in any country close by.

The logical thing was to race Mac where he would run best, and that would be in the United States. There Mac Finnian could race on dirt tracks.

"Think about it, Aidan. He could advance to the Breeders' Cup Classic with an honest chance of becoming a world champion."

And if that happened as they both thought it could, at last McKenna Racing would earn the reputation it needed.

Then they would have their pick of top-flight racehorses to train.

But the only way they could race Mac in America without selling parts of him off was to take the deal. And take the woman with it. He shook his head. Something deep inside was telling him this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

"We're nearly broke and you know it, Aidan," Cashel continued. "The stud fees to get Mac and the fees to nominate him for the Breeders' Cup ate up our savings, and the horses we've been training haven't exactly had a grand year."

True, those fees had totaled six figures. Plus their share of winnings this year had been slim enough that Aidan feared losing owners who might not keep faith in them to train their Thoroughbreds to be champions.

When Aidan still didn't say anything, Cashel went on. "You know the cost of flying Mac Finnian internationally, quarantining him and setting him up in a foreign barn—not to mention the racing entry fees—well, that's more money than we've seen in too long a time."

Aidan knew that as well as his brother. Realizing he would have to consider the offer as much as he hated to admit it, he relented. "Mac'll never be the best he can be racing here. We do need to consider the partnership."

"There are another couple caveats to which we must agree."

"And those would be?"

"The Clarke woman gets a third of his stud fees for the first year. And she gets to use him at stud on her own mares with no fee. One live foal per mare, an even half dozen. That was the price of not selling a share in him outright. Apparently she wants to expand her business. I'm thinking she might want to get into racing in the future, as well."

If so, Aidan couldn't blame her. Thoroughbred racing fueled his blood. And his dreams. Dreams that, under the proper conditions, Mac could make come true.

"I don't like her setting the terms, though," Aidan muttered, thinking she was likely to get under his skin the moment he saw her again. Attraction warred with irritation. He didn't need either. As if she'd heard him via some mental connection, she was stalking toward them now, her face wreathed in an angry thundercloud. "If only there was another way."

"You know there is. We could syndicate the colt, then."

"And divide him up into little pieces?" He glared at Cashel. He knew his brother didn't want that any more than he did. It was simply Cashel's annoying attempt at getting his way. Cursing under his breath, Aidan said, "All right, then."

"Grand! Don't worry, I'll see that Mac will be well taken care of."

Aidan started. "What does that mean?"

"Just what it sounds like. I look forward to the American races."

As usual, Cashel was trying to take over as if he were Aidan's boss rather than his partner in the business. The curse of having a sometimes autocratic older brother...

"You'll be doing no such thing." Knowing it was time he made his own mark, Aidan stood his ground. "I'm the one who trained Mac practically from the time he was foaled, not you. I'm the one who will be taking our colt to America."

Truth to tell, Aidan would be glad to get away from his overbearing brother for a while. Noting the smirk Cashel quickly hid, he wondered if he'd been tricked into volunteering.

Seeing that Cat was standing there like a stone-cold statue, obviously tuned in to their disagreement, he ground out, "To where exactly?" Even if Cashel had tricked him, Aidan wouldn't back up now. Mac Finnian was his responsibility. "Kentucky? New York? California?"

"My farm is in Woodstock, Illinois."

"The Midwest?" He knew Cashel had been in the area once before for the Arlington Million, while Aidan had st...

About this edition

• Publisher: Harlequin Intrigue
• Publication date: 2012
• ISBN 10: 0373696124
• ISBN 13: 9780373696123
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 224