Page 16 of Captured by the Billionaire Cowboy (The Secret Billionaires #7)

The woman gazed at Davey with kind eyes.

He was enjoying his sundae, oblivious to the conversation, as his brothers took in every word.

“You did far more than you realize. Here in Ireland, it is a special gift to bestow kindness. You hear them in our blessings, as we wish for the road to meet you, the wind to be at your back and the sun to shine upon you. You have the heart of Ireland in you.” Mrs. Baxter gestured to a young woman, similar to Davey’s age, also with the features of Down syndrome.

“That’s my daughter, Lisa,” she said proudly. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

Ciara smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s my dream come true.” For a moment, the older lady’s eyes turned misty, before she straightened. “It’s the traits that make us different that make us beautiful. Enjoy the sundaes, and come back anytime.”

The world was a little more delicious after Mrs. Baxter left, for more reasons than the sweet treat.

It was easy to see the bad in the world, the harshness and cruelty, yet for every unkind person, another showed compassion and humanity, often at a personal cost. They were the true heroes. “That was kind of her.”

“What you did was kind.” Rowan murmured. “Extraordinary even.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Yet by Davey’s happy sighs, the stark opposite of his earlier devastation, it had mattered.

“Perhaps that’s the secret,” she said quietly.

“Show kindness to others, and they will show it to you.” Spending time with Rowan made her introspective, and all but philosophical.

She picked up a rainbow-colored spoon and scooped a dollop of the creamy delight.

“I may not have room, but I always say you can’t let challenges stop you. ”

Quinn, who until now had been silently watching their exchange, picked up his own spoon, and Spencer grabbed his utensil, as Ciara took a taste of the icy concoction.

She sighed as sweet flavor burst into her mouth, the perfect mix of creamy Irish cream and rich dark chocolate.

All of them dug into the sundaes… all except Rowan.

Instead, he unwrapped a small white dinner mint.

With her spoon halfway to her mouth, Ciara halted. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“What?”

“You’re not eating the sundae.”

He shrugged. “It’s full of calories and sugar and saturated fat and–”

“Deliciousness,” Ciara finished. “Don’t tell me that dinner mint somehow constitutes a dessert.”

He popped the sweet in his mouth and smiled.

But for a second his gaze darted to her spoon, revealing what he truly wanted.

She should leave it alone, should enjoy her treat and leave him to his 5-calorie not-a-dessert.

Instead, she picked up his spoon and took a generous serving of ice cream, whipped cream and two plump cherries.

As the rest of the world melted away, she brought the spoon to his lips.

A captive audience watched their every move, and even Davey stopped licking the remnants of his sundae to observe.

Rowan had a habit of giving up what he desired, sacrificing for the greater good, or so he believed. She turned the spoon, held the handle to him. “I dare you.”

He raised an eyebrow, but did not back down from the challenge. Instead, he took the offering and licked the spoon. His expression remained neutral, yet somehow she knew he’d savored the bite. “Was it as good as you imagined?” she drawled.

He surprised her by taking another bite, then another, and another until it was all gone. When he was done, he put the spoon down gracefully. “Perhaps there is something to be said for surrendering control.”

Suddenly, they weren’t discussing ice cream or sweets. Something else lurked, something about his iron control… and her? A frisson of awareness seized her. By his darkening eyes, he felt the same.

She put down her napkin, leaving the rest of her sundae untouched. It simply wasn’t as appealing as other things right now. “We’d better get to the bank.”

Rowan rose, yet his searching gaze remained on her.

“We have a lot to consider.” Once more a hidden meaning loomed behind the words, but she didn’t dare question him.

Suddenly, he was even more powerful, more commanding, more in control.

Soon she would have to decipher the mysterious connection between her and the formidable man.

Because it was getting stronger.

“Surely there’s something I can do to change your mind. This is such an important cause.”

Rowan winced at the frustration in Ciara’s voice, the distress she couldn’t hide. He touched her arm, even as he kept his regard on the prim woman at the impeccably neat desk. The woman who had just deflated Ciara’s hopes.

They were in Waterstone’s one and only bank, meeting with Jan Murphy, the bank’s one and only lending officer.

The bank was small, a compilation of several rooms with a couple of tellers, a small vault and an office, which was where they now sat.

Mrs. Murphy was like her office – proper, stoic and just a tad chilly.

“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Connor, but that doesn’t change the risk the bank would assume. You have no collateral, a low income and no significant experience in the field.”

“That’s not true,” Ciara exclaimed. “I’ve worked with horses my whole life.”

“I appreciate that.” Mrs. Murphy’s strict tone belied the placating words. “But working as an assistant is not the same as running your own ranch, not to mention the intricacies of operating a lodge. You have a bachelor’s degree, but in chemistry, not hospitality management.”

Chemistry? He’d known she was smart, but he hadn’t expected a college degree in a hard science. She gave him a quick glance. “I couldn’t decide on a major, and I liked science.”

She turned back to the banker, but before she could protest further, Mrs. Murphy raised her hand. “Even if you had years of experience and a detailed plan, it’s just too high risk. Unless–” Her eyes flitted to his. “You have a partner who is in a better financial situation.”

Ciara parted her lips, turned to him. He fought the urge to claim the role of her partner.

In more ways than one.

He took a deep breath. When it came to Ciara, his feelings were like a wailing banshee, powerful, intense and unstoppable.

He would happily co-sign for the venture, creating the horse sanctuary of her dreams and solidifying his presence in her life.

Better yet, he had more than enough money to finance it himself.

Yet Ciara’s disheartened regard stopped him. She wanted to do this on her own. For now, he would respect her decision and stay in the background. Yet he couldn’t allow her to give up on her dreams.

It probably wouldn’t be wise to share that now. “It’s up to you,” he said quietly. “My offer stands, and if you need additional help…” He let his voice drift off as he glanced to the banker. “You are never alone.”

Ciara’s gaze softened, and for a second, it seemed like she might accept. No doubt she fought the desire to succeed on her own with the need to make it a reality. She hesitated, but then grimaced. “I’m on my own.”

He straightened in the hard-backed chair, carefully donning a neutral expression.

Her voice was low and resigned, casting unmistakable guilt.

This was his fault. Not that she needed money, but that she didn’t trust him enough to accept his help.

Of course, he didn’t deserve her trust, not after he’d left her.

He shouldn’t let it affect him so much, shouldn’t let her affect him.

Yet his exterior mask couldn’t shield his true feelings, not anymore.

She wouldn’t make it easy to return to her life after the way he left her.

It had been for a reason – she didn’t deserve the darkness he inherited – yet could there be a way?

Perhaps it was time to try.

“Don’t give up hope.” Mrs. Murphy surprised them both, her voice softening a sliver. “Get some money together. Find people with hospitality experience. Come back better prepared, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Some of the light re-entered Ciara’s eyes.

“Thank you. I will.” She stood and shook hands with the banker, and, with a final farewell, strode towards the glass door, her posture strong, her solid gait proving she wasn’t giving up.

No, his Ciara would never give up on something that mattered to her, especially an opportunity to help her beloved horses.

Wait–

His Ciara?

He was definitely in trouble.

He followed her as they emerged into the brilliant sunshine, just as the sound of neighing filled the air. Had someone brought a horse instead of a car? He looked around, then down at Ciara as she fumbled in her purse. He hid a smile as she took out a neighing phone .

She brought it to her ear. “Hi Uncail Frank.” She paused. “Yeah, we just left the bank. How are things there?”

He knew something was wrong the instant she did. She froze, her skin paled to the color of her white horse. “What?” she whispered, then stronger, “Is the vet there? We’re on our way.” She disconnected the call and threw the phone in her purse. “We have to go.”

“What happened?” Rowan quickened his pace as Ciara ran to the car. She gestured for him to hurry, not speaking until he turned on the ignition and pulled out of the small parking lot and onto the two-lane country road. He sped down the empty street until he reached the speed limit.

“Jasmine is sick.” Her voice emerged thready, as she gripped the dashboard with bleached hands. She cringed when a red light caught them and he slowed to a stop, tap-tapping her foot as the seconds slowly ticked.

He pressed the pedal the second the light turned green. “What’s wrong with her?”

She visibly swallowed, her eyes turning glassy. “She’s showing signs of colic.”

He stiffened. The condition that generally referred to fussiness in babies meant something far more sinister in horses. He’d dealt with it more than once… sometimes to tragic consequences.