“Shocker,” he muttered before he could help himself.
“Considering she was nearly disqualified last week, and they’re running out of time to make sure she can qualify for the Olympic team, Matt’s desperate.”
Her dad was desperate? Not her? Great. And if he didn’t produce results, what then?
Didn’t matter. He didn’t do package deals, and he wasn’t going to Texas.
His parents had left for a month-long European tour and cruise five days ago. Which moved him up from assistant stable manager, to manager—because he was currently the only stable employee on the payroll. “Mark, I’m sorry, but you know I can’t leave right now with Dad and Mom gone.”
“That’s why she’s coming here.”
Well, shit. “When?”
The senator glanced at his watch before digging into his pocket to pull out a set of keys and a slip of paper. “She’ll be here about six.”
“Tonight?”
“Like I said, they’re running out of time.” He held out the items in his hand, his smile somewhat apologetic. “Call Matt for the details, and give these keys to Raine, please. Janine made up the guest house, stocked the fridge, and left her Benz in the garage down there for her to use.”
Reyes hesitated before releasing a sigh of resignation. “I don’t even have the option to say no, do I?”
“I did tell you I was going to hold you to your initial acceptance.”
He gave a grim smile and took the paper and keys from the older man’s hand. “Lesson learned.”
Mark clapped him on the back before heading out. “Thanks, Rey. You got one month to fix what you can. Don’t let me down.”
Just a personal favor, hey? No pressure.
Sonofabitch.
As the senator slipped into the back seat of his car by his wife and their driver/bodyguard shut the door, Reyes fisted the keys in his hand. So much for the trail ride he’d planned on Taz. Now he had three hours to prepare for Her Royal Highness.
Scowling down at the slip of paper crumpled around the keys, he reached for his phone.
Reyes’ pulse sped up when the luxury transport trailer pulled in two hours and forty-seven minutes later. Nothing but the best for a Diamond. With one shoulder braced against one of the massive vertical support beams that bracketed the barn doorway, he shoved his hands in his front pockets.
He didn’t miss the glance Raine shot in his direction as she climbed down from the front passenger seat, but she went straight to the back, followed by a guy he assumed was a groom. He was kind of surprised to even see her in the truck when she could’ve taken a two-hour non-stop flight from Dallas and caught a cab to the estate—or called one of her cousins.
The driver got out and busied himself unloading five large suitcases from the cargo compartment. When he dragged out a couple of tack trunks, a dozen bales of hay and three sacks of grain, Reyes stepped forward. He wasn’t about to play bellhop for Princess Raine, but helping with the horse’s necessities fit his job description.
He transferred the trunks to the empty stall next to the one he’d prepared for her gelding, then made his way around to the back of the trailer when there was still no sign of her or the horse. The doors were open, ramp down,
but Raine and her horse were still inside.
While she murmured in a low voice and tugged on the gelding’s lead rope, he took a moment to appreciate the view. After skimming his gaze over her slim figure in a white T-shirt, skinny jeans cuffed above the ankle, and white canvas tennis shoes, he forced his attention to her horse.
Diamond Fire. Though he’d seen the gelding in videos of her events online, the sleek, black-bay Trakehner was even more impressive in person. He knew the jumper sported three white socks under his leg wraps, and had a distinctive flame-shaped marking under his ebony forelock. Standing about sixteen hands high, the top of Raine’s head barely reached his withers. A tall horse for a petite woman, yet in every video he’d watched, they made a perfect pair.
“You two coming out, or what?” Reyes asked.
Raine started at the sound of his voice, but didn’t bother glancing his way. “When we’re ready,” she advised in a cool tone, her dark, wavy hair curtaining her face.
It didn’t appear they were doing anything other than just standing there. He let another minute pass before giving voice to mounting impatience. “Maybe you don’t have anything better to do, but I’m already two hours past quitting time.”
“Then go,” she snapped. “I didn’t ask you to stay.”
“No, but your uncle did. What’s the hold up?”