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“Think about me,” he suggested, his eyes raking over her in lusty appraisal.
“I . . . I have too much on my mind to think about starting new relationships,” she said, knowing the excuse was as feeble as it sounded. If she wasn’t careful, Dustin would see through her act. “The foals—” she angled her head in the direction of the newborn filly “—Journey’s End’s career . . . a lot of things.”
Dustin tugged at his stiff collar, but his golden eyes never left her face. “You said you felt pushed against the wall.”
“I do.” She lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture and gambled with what she hoped was her trump card. “Someone’s offered to buy me out.”
Dustin froze. “What?”
It was too late to back down now. “A man was here last week.”
“What man?”
“An Irishman. Zane Sheridan.”
Dustin looked as if he would sink right through the floor. All of his well-practiced composure seemed to slide through the concrete.
“Ever heard of him?”
“Yeah. I know him.” Dustin shook his head. “What does he want with this farm? He already breeds horses in Europe.”
“Maybe he wants to break into the American market,” Tiffany suggested, her fingers tightening over the railing of the stall. God, she was a terrible liar.
Dustin began to pace the length of the short corridor. “Maybe,” he said as if he didn’t believe a word of it. His mouth tightened and he ran a hand over his brow to catch the droplets of cold sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead. “I suppose he told you all sorts of wild stories.”
“Like?” Tiffany coaxed.
“Like—hell, I don’t know.” He held up a hand in exasperation and looked up at the cross beams of the shed. “I may as well be honest with you, Tiff.”
Here it comes. Dustin is about to confess,Tiffany thought, suddenly cold with dread.
“There wasn’t much love lost between Sheridan and Ellery,” Dustin announced. His topaz eyes softened, as if he wished he could save her some of the pain he was about to inflict. For the first time Tiffany realized that Dustin did, in his own way, truly love her. “They were involved in a poker game—for high stakes. Sheridan lost. I don’t think the man likes to lose, and he took it none too well, let me tell you. He even went so far as to claim that Ellery had been cheating. God, I was there. I don’t know how Ellery could have cheated. From where I sat, Ellery won fair and square.”
“How—how much money was involved?”
“Somewhere around two hundred thousand dollars, I think. Supposedly it wiped Sheridan out. But apparently he’s back on his feet again.”
Tiffany’s mouth was dry with tension. “You haven’t seen him since?”
“No, but I know he breeds horses in Ireland. I’ve seen a few of them race. He’s got a two-year-old filly who’s ripping up the tracks.”
“The filly sired by King’s Ransom?”
Dustin cast her a worried glance and nodded curtly. “I wouldn’t trust that man, Tiffany. He’s got a reputation in Europe for being ruthless.” Dustin began stalking back and forth in front of the stall. “I don’t understand why he wants to buy you out. What did you say to his offer?”
“That I wasn’t interested, and if I ever did want to sell out my part of the operation, you had first option.”
Some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. “Good.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Did he say anything else?”
“Not much,” Tiffany lied with a twinge of regret. “But I think he’ll be back with a concrete offer.”
“Great,” Dustin muttered, his gold eyes impaling her. “Whatever you do, Tiff, don’t sell out to that bastard.”
“Are you still interested in owning all the farm?” she asked. Several years before, Dustin had offered to buy her out, but she had steadfastly refused.
“Of course I am. I just never thought you’d want to sell.”
“I’m not sure that I do.”
