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“Oh, God,” Tiffany said with a long sigh. Nervously she ran her fingers through her hair.
“It wasn’t a foolproof plan by any means and it was extremely risky. But Ellery enjoyed taking risks—remember the stunts he and Dustin would pull in Europe when he posed as Ethan Rivers?”
Tiffany nodded, her stomach turning over convulsively. What kind of a man had she married? How had she been so blind?
“There was always the chance that Devil’s Gambit would be recognized because of the Jockey Club identification number tattooed on the inside of his lip. And of course there was the remote possibility of something going wrong with Ellery’s plans.”
Tiffany had broken out in a cold sweat. She wrapped her arms around herself as she relived the horrible night when she was told that Ellery and Devil’s Gambit were killed.
“Everything backfired when Ellery was trapped in the truck and killed along with the switched horse, which, by the way, Bob Prescott supplied. It seems that the trainer was involved in the scam with Ellery and Dustin.”
“And all this time I’ve let him work with our horses . . . God, how could I have been so stupid?”
“There’s no shame in trusting your husband, Tiffany,” Zane said softly and kissed the top of her head before smiling. “In fact, your next one will insist upon it.”
She felt his warm arm slide around her waist. “And Dustin—what about him?” she asked.
“He decided to gamble and carry out Ellery’s plan.”
“With Bob Prescott?”
“Right. Stasia claims he was absolutely furious that the insurance forms hadn’t been signed, and that you, not he, as the new forms indicated, would get the settlement.” Zane shrugged and finished his drink in one swallow. “But by that time it was too late.”
“So what are we going to do?”
His arm tightened possessively around her, and his fingers toyed with the lapels of her robe. “For now, go to bed. Tomorrow we’ll deal with Dustin.”
“How?”
“I have it on good authority that he’ll be here with Journey’s End. Come on.” He pulled her gently to her feet and walked her to the stairs. “I haven’t slept in days—” he slid an appreciative glance down her body “—and somehow I get the feeling that I’ll have trouble again tonight.”
They mounted the stairs entwined in an embrace. Once in her bedroom, he let his hand slip inside her bathrobe and felt the shimmery fabric of her nightgown. “I’ve been waiting for so long to be with you again,” he whispered into her ear as he untied the belt of the robe, pushed it gently over her shoulders and let it drop unheeded to the floor.
* * *
True to Zane’s prediction, Dustin arrived around nine. He marched into the kitchen and stopped abruptly. The last person he had expected to see was Zane Sheridan. Dustin’s composure slipped slightly and his broad shoulders stiffened. His jeans and shirt were rumpled from the long, cross-country drive, and three days’ growth of beard darkened his chin. In contrast, Zane was clean-shaven and dressed in fresh corduroy pants and a crisp shirt. His hair was neatly combed, and the satisfied smile on his face made Dustin’s hair stand on end.
The differences in the two men were striking.
Dustin cast a worried glance in Tiffany’s direction before placing his Stetson on a hook near the door.
“‘Morning, Dustin,” Zane drawled. He was leaning against the counter sipping coffee while Tiffany made breakfast.
Dustin managed a thin smile. “What’re you doing here?”
“Visiting.” Zane took another long drink.
The meaning of Zane’s words settled like lead on Dustin’s shoulders. “Oh, no, Tiffany,” he said. “You’re not getting involved with this bastard, are you?” He hooked a thumb in Zane’s direction.
Zane just smiled wickedly, but Tiffany stiffened. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business, Dustin. Is Journey’s End in the stallion barn?”
“Yes.”
“With Mac?”
“He was there and that veterinarian, Geddes.”
“Good.”
