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“You were a champion barrel racer for three years running,” Crystal reminded her.
She smiled, though her memories of that time in her life were more bitter than sweet. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“It was what inspired me to do my own thing, regardless of what Jack wanted.”
“I would have done anything he wanted,” Jewel admitted. Even now, she wasn’t sure why she’d always tried so hard to please him, she only knew that she’d never succeeded. Nothing she’d ever done was good enough for Jack Callahan.
“And did,” her sister reminded her. “Including giving up your own life to come home when he asked you to.”
He hadn’t really asked but demanded, as both sisters knew was his way. But the truth was, six years on the rodeo circuit had disillusioned Jewel about a lot of things, and she’d been more than ready to return to Alliston, West Virginia. Her father’s heart attack had been both her incentive and her excuse to finally do so and, her difficulties with him aside, she hadn’t ever regretted that decision.
She had become his willing assistant, as eager to learn as she was to demonstrate what she already knew, confident that he would learn to trust in her abilities and eventually grant her more authority. But Jack Callahan had continued to hold the reins of the business in his tightly clenched fist until—many years later—they’d finally been pried from his cold, dead fingers.
Jewel and Crystal had stood side by side at his funeral, his daughters from two separate marriages, both sisters painfully aware that they’d been neither wanted nor loved by their father. And more than they’d mourned his death, they’d mourned the distance between them that he’d never tried to breach.
“My life was always here,” Jewel finally responded to her sister’s comment. “Even when I thought it wasn’t.”
Crystal touched a hand to her arm. “Maybe the problem isn’t that Russ is leaving, but that he found someone and you haven’t.”
Jewel pushed the half-eaten cake away. “Not this again.”
“Honey, you’re too young to have resigned yourself to being alone.”
“Resigned suggests that I’m settling for less than I want, and I’m not. I’m happy with my life.”
“You’re happy being alone?”
“I’m hardly alone.”
“The horses don’t count,” her sister said dryly.
“At least they don’t hog the bed—or the remote.”
“Well, I can’t dispute that Simon does both of those things,” Crystal said, then a slow smile curved her lips. “But he does other things that more than even the scales—and I’m not talking about taking out the garbage.”
Jewel got up and went around the counter to grab the coffeepot for a refill. “You lucked out with Simon,” she admitted.
“Then you’re not really mad that I didn’t wait around for Russ to propose?”
She sighed. “How can I be mad when you’re so happy?”
“I am happy,” Crystal said. “Happier than I ever could have imagined.”
Jewel knew the feeling. She’d experienced that same euphoria of love—and the complete devastation of losing the man she’d thought she would love forever. She only hoped her sister would never have to know that kind of pain, that her life would always be wonderful, that Simon would always love her as much as he did now.
As if following the path of her thoughts, Crystal reached out and squeezed her hand. “Someday your prince will come.”
Before Jewel could respond, the jingle of the bell over the door announced the arrival of another customer.
Crystal glanced over, then let out a low whistle.
“Don’t look now,” she told her sister. “But I think he just walked in the door.”
Jewel picked up her cup, sipped.
Crystal frowned at the lack of response.
“You told me not to look,” Jewel reminded her.
“Since when do you listen to me?”
She shrugged. “Since the last prince turned into a frog.”
Crystal picked up a menu and fanned herself with it. “Six-two, I’d guess. Dark hair, darker eyes. Sinfully sexy. And—” she glanced pointedly at her sister and smiled “—flying solo.”
Her curiosity undeniably piqued by the description, Jewel twisted in her stool—and nearly slid right off of it and onto the floor.
For once, Crystal hadn’t exaggerated. The man hovering just inside the door had short, neatly cropped hair, dark slashing brows over espresso-covered eyes, a strong jaw, straight nose, slashing cheekbones and a beautifully sculpted mouth that brought to mind all kinds of wicked fantasies. His olive-toned skin and exotic looks suggested some kind of Mediterranean heritage that made her think of sultry nights and hotter passions, and the punch of lust that hit low in her belly left Jewel almost breathless.
No, her sister definitely hadn’t exaggerated. But what she’d neglected to include in her description was “young.” Way too young. Probably younger than Crystal even. Definitely too young to make a thirty-four-year-old woman weak in the knees and hot everywhere else.
His gaze moved around the room and collided with hers. Then those beautiful lips slowly curved, and her heart pounded hard against her chest as if it was trying to break free in order to fall at his feet.
“Well, well, well,” Crystal said softly.
Jewel felt heat infuse her cheeks as she tore her gaze away from his hypnotic stare. Crystal smirked at her before turning her attention back to the new customer.
“Grab a seat anywhere you like,” she called out cheerily. “I’ll be with you in just a sec.”
“Thank you.” His voice was low and deep and as sexy as the rest of him.
“Mmm-mmm,” Crystal murmured her appreciation.
Jewel picked up her cup again and sipped before asking, “Weren’t we just talking about how happily married you are?”
“I am,” Crystal assured her. “But the ring on my finger hasn’t affected my eyesight and that is one exceptional specimen of masculinity.”
She could hardly deny the fact, nor would she make the mistake of agreeing with her sister aloud, so she only said, “A specimen probably waiting for a cup of coffee.”
“Oh. Right.” Crystal grinned and grabbed the pot.
Jewel concentrated on finishing her own cup while her sister chatted with her new customer. She couldn’t hear what was said, but the low timbre of his voice was enough to create shivers that danced up and down her spine. Crystal’s responding laughter bubbled over like a newly opened bottle of champagne, then his deeper chuckle joined in.
Jewel had always envied her sister’s ease with other people—her outgoing personality and easy charm, her natural warmth and friendliness. She’d always been more cautious and reserved than Crystal, and though she didn’t think anyone would accuse her of being unfriendly, she wasn’t often mistaken for warm and welcoming, either. She dealt with a lot of people in her business, not out of choice but necessity, and most of the time, she preferred the horses to their owners. Though lately, she’d been spending a little too much time up close and personal with certain aspects of the thoroughbred training business that she’d prefer to avoid, which reminded her of the other reason she’d come into town to see her sister today.
She waited while Crystal finished serving her “exceptional specimen” and checked on her other customers.
“In addition to Russ leaving, I’ve got Grady laid up with a broken leg so I’m short a stable hand,” she said when her sister returned to the counter. “Do you think Simon’s brother would be interested in a summer job again this year?”
Crystal tallied up a bill. “Ted’s in Europe with his girlfriend for the next couple of months.”
“Oh.” Jewel pushed her now empty cup aside. “Know anyone else who might be interested?”
“Most of the local college kids already have their summer jobs lined up.”
She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to put an ad in the paper then.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t be more help,” Crystal said. “I know how much you hate interviewing people.”
“Actually the interviews don’t concern me as much as the possibility that it might be too late to find qualified help for the summer.”
“What kind of qualifications do you need to muck out stinky stalls?”
“Some experience working around animals would be helpful,” she said dryly.
“What kind of animals?” a masculine voice asked from behind her.
She whirled around and found herself face-to-chest with the hunky stranger and couldn’t help but notice how the polo shirt he wore stretched across impressive pectoral muscles. Cheeks hot, mouth dry, she lifted her gaze and found his eyes on her again.
Crystal offered profuse apologies as she refilled the cup in his hand.
“Not a problem,” he assured her, then shifted his attention back to Jewel and asked again, “What kind of animals?”
She drew in a breath and, along with it, his scent. Clean and sharp and as tempting as the rest of him.
“Horses,” she finally managed to respond to his question.
“Thoroughbred racehorses,” Crystal elaborated. “My sister runs one of the top training facilities in the state.”
Jewel’s quelling glance was met with a sweet smile.
“I’m Mac Delgado,” the man introduced himself. “I happen to know my way around horses and I’m looking for some short-term employment.”
Jewel only said, “And I don’t hire anyone without a recommendation,” and stepped away from the counter.
“I’ll let you know if I find any suitable candidates,” her sister called after her.
“Thanks, Crystal.” She didn’t turn back, but she knew he was watching her. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her as she made her way to the door.
He’d been dismissed—blatantly and unapologetically. It was a new experience for Mac Delgado—aka His Royal Highness Marcus Santiago, Prince of Tesoro del Mar—and not one he’d particularly enjoyed. She hadn’t even given him her name, and he was frowning over that fact as he watched her walk out, enjoying the quick strides of long, lean legs and the subtle sway of slim hips until the door of the café swung shut behind her.
A soft sigh drew his attention back to the young waitress with the friendly smile. Crystal, the other woman had called her.
“She really doesn’t mean to be rude,” Crystal said now.
“And yet, she has such an obvious talent for it.”
She smiled again, a little ruefully this time. “She’s got a lot on her mind right now.”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, as if he didn’t have a hundred questions about the woman who’d walked out the door without so much as a backward glance in his direction. But he sat down on the stool she’d recently vacated as Crystal waved goodbye to an elderly couple as they headed out the door.
“So what brings you to Alliston?” she asked, turning her attention back to him.
“Road construction on the highway,” he admitted.
She smiled at that. “Where are you headed?”
“California eventually.”
“Driving?”
He nodded.
“You’ve got a long way to go.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” he told her.
“What’s in California?” she asked. “Friends? A job? A wife?”
He fought the smile that tugged at his lips in response to her not-so-subtle probing. “None of the above.”
“You have to give me more than that if you expect me to answer any questions about my sister.”
“What makes you think I have any questions about your sister?”
She lifted a brow. “Then you aren’t interested in seeing Jewel again?”
“Jewel?” he echoed, then realized it was her sister’s name, and an apt description for the woman with wildly sexy hair and eyes the color of a summer sky before a storm.
And then there were her lips, glossy and full and as perfectly shaped as a cupid’s bow. And her hair, miles of honeygold corkscrew curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. And—
He caught a glimpse of Crystal’s satisfied smile out of the corner of his eye and forced himself to sever the thought.
Her smile widened. “I believe you were telling me how much you weren’t interested in my sister.”
“Actually,” he said, “you were going to tell me where I could find her.”
Jewel was faxing her Help Wanted ad to the classifieds department at the local newspaper when the knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she said, her eyes never lifting from the machine where she was manually inserting pages because it had a tendency to chew the paper if she used the automatic feeder. She’d been meaning to take the machine in for service, but kept forgetting. With so many other tasks to deal with on a daily basis, those that didn’t directly impact the horses tended to get shifted to the bottom of the list and frequently forgotten.
The door creaked as it was pushed open, reminding her that oiling the hinges was another one of those tasks that she never seemed to get around to doing. On the other hand, she didn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on her.
She fed the last page into the machine before turning around, and found herself looking at a pair of very broad shoulders—not covered in flannel or denim, as was usual around the stables, but a royal-blue polo shirt, complete with the embroidered logo of pony and rider on the left side. The shirt stretched over those shoulders, across a broad chest and tucked into a pair of belted jeans that fit nicely over narrow hips and long, muscular legs.
Her eyes shifted and discovered that the face was just as spectacular as the body, and not entirely unfamiliar.
It was the man from the café, and along with the sense of recognition came a quiver inside—a humming vibration that rippled from her center all the way to her fingertips and churned up everything in between. The sensation was both unexpected and unwelcome, and she fought against it as her gaze locked with his.
