"Do you, Devlin McRae, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold until death do you part?"
Devlin's voice was clear and strong as he answered.
"I do."
"And do you Kaylie Thomas, take this man to be your husband, to have and to hold until death do you part?"
"I do."
"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"
And he did.
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Pheonyx Rising
Stud Farm: Part One
Clint
I gnawed on the toothpick, shredding it slowly. The sun was beating down on my hat. I leaned on the fence, staring at the outrageously beautiful girl on the horse.
Jesus Christ, I could use a smoke.
But I'd quit last year, and I wasn't giving in now, no matter how tense I was. And I was plenty tense.
It was day one of a new job. A new rider. And what a rider she was.
The horse in the ring skittered to the side, on edge as she ran through her routine. That move would have thrown a lesser horsewoman.
But she was not a lesser rider.
Pheonyx Delancey just tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and grinned as she put the horse through his paces.
I cursed under my breath at her arrogance. Of course, I'd heard of her. Heard of all the Delanceys.
I'd even seen her photo a handful of times, though I'd never seen the young lady in person. She had only been active a year or so, but she already had a reputation as one of the best riders in the country. Possibly the world.
I knew it.
She clearly knew it too.
But that didn't mean she was a pleasure to work with. Spoiled and haughty, and born with a silver spoon in her mouth and custom boots on her cute little feet.
She had swagger alright. And talent. But she was taking needless risks as she experimented with wild variations on standard moves. You were supposed to do that on a pommel horse, not the real deal.
The woman was going to get herself killed! I resisted the urge to spit. I'd given up chaw a couple years before I stopped smoking the hand rolled tobacco that had been my constant companion since high school.
But lord almighty, I could tell already that this woman was going to drive me to drink and to smoke.
Yep, I could already tell that she was going to be a handful.
Never mind the way that her worn-in jeans hugged a perfectly grabable behind. A behind that would stop high-speed traffic. She had high round tits that bounced deliciously each time she landed on the saddle. And her long legs wrapped around that horse in a way that made my cock twitch and my pulse pound.
That long, silky red hair of hers just added to the already over-the-top feminine package. Her face was classically beautiful. Huge blue eyes, a pert nose, pouty lips that were sexy as hell and a stubborn little chin that somehow didn't detract one bit from her exceptional good looks.
She was a beauty, alright. And she knew it. Born to one of the most prestigious equestrian families in the world, she'd had it easy her whole life.
But she wasn't just a rich girl or a reckless athlete. She wasn't a flirt or a player either, from what I'd heard around. She was something even worse.
Pheonyx Delancey was a star.
And now she was my responsibility. I rubbed my eyes, wondering why the hell I had taken the job. I'd even signed the contract.
I squinted, trying to sort out what I'd been thinking at the time.
Oh right, I'd been drunk.
I was not a hard drinker, but I had my moments with the bottle. It was one of those moments, and her sweet talking manager slash attorney slash old family friend who got me into this mess. I shook my head.
JJ Ross.
I was going whump that old sonofabitch the next time I laid eyes on him. The old bastard was up to something, of that I was certain. He was overly fond of the girl, and saw her as a daughter figure, since her own daddy had passed away young.
I snorted.
Granddaughter was more like it.
At any rate, he'd been paying and I'd been drinking and here we were. Her, red headed and wild on a horse. Me, standing here trying to ignore the way her body moved around the aforementioned horse. JJ, probably sucking on a cigar and selling horses or timeshares or land.