Page 42 of Captured by the Billionaire Cowboy (The Secret Billionaires #7)

Still, Rowan couldn’t let the world see the real him. Even if he did something good, it didn’t change things. He was still his father’s son, still emotionless, still controlling, still hard. And if people learned that he allowed himself to be swindled to help people… “Why would I do that?”

Davey gave one of his giant smiles. “Because deep down, you’re a hero.”

The world froze.

Davey was oblivious to his eldest brother’s stunned silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody. I gotta go. Love you!”

And with that, he was gone.

Ridiculous. Preposterous. Unbelievable. Impossible.

He was the opposite of a hero, a man who couldn’t feel emotion, couldn’t fulfill anything beyond duty and responsibilities.

Of course, Davey was mistaken. Well, not about buying ridiculously overpriced horses he couldn’t use.

And not about his plan to donate them for animal therapy. But the other part, certainly.

A voice cleared, and Rowan turned to Ciara. She gazed at him with an inscrutable expression, her features raw with emotion. “You’ve done this before?”

His denial was swift. “Not really.”

Her eyes sparked a challenge, belying the misleading words. “Why does this remind me of you spinning a root canal into a vacation?” She moved closer, surrounding him in her sweet wildflower scent. “Davey is right about you. You are a hero.”

He shook his head vigorously, even as his chest burned with a strange heaviness. For a second, they just stayed there, locked in each other’s gaze, breaking apart only long enough to call in the ecstatic young woman and tell her she was getting her second chance. He couldn’t help but wonder…

Was this his second chance, too?

The days until the grand opening passed quickly, characterized by frenzied preparations and a dizzying schedule.

Interest in their small operation skyrocketed, driven by social media and viral posts from people near and far.

Of course, they couldn’t predict exactly how many people would attend, but the interest was highly promising.

Conducting a contest for the name had been an inspired idea, generating a prize purse of awareness.

Entrants submitted a variety of suggestions, from humorous offerings like Hold Your Horses Ranch to motivational ones like Destiny’s Hope Horse Rescue, Ciara’s personal favorite.

They would announce the winners of both the name contest and the raffle during the fair.

As the days melted away, everything remained the same between her and Rowan. They didn’t mention the past or the future, yet soon both would need to be addressed. For now, they just enjoyed each other’s company, with honest work, sunset horse rides and stolen moments in their enchanted garden.

Finally, only a single day remained before the grand opening.

The first retreat guests were booked, with two dozen families, adults and children set to arrive.

Of course, far more would attend the fair, likely swelling the visitors into the hundreds and perhaps even thousands.

The preparations for food and lodgings had been made, and the employees were trained and ready.

They were bringing in temporary workers and all available volunteers.

Everything was proceeding perfectly. The new employees showed dedication and enthusiasm, their love for horses apparent.

Of the volunteers, Louise was by far the most productive, and had already put in more hours than anyone.

She’d apologized directly to Davey, who had graciously accepted. The two had even become friends.

Now Ciara was evaluating the horses to make the final decisions on who would enjoy the festival and who would remain in the serenity of the stables.

Another horse had been adopted, and only a few remained from the original group.

The newer horses showed marked improvement even in the short amount of time, and most were already available for adoption.

“How are they doing?”

Ciara smiled, as she always did at the sound of that voice. “Great. Most of them can join today’s activities. The second group wasn’t nearly as bad as we originally thought.”

“Neither were the owners,” Rowan’s tan boots boomed on the floor, as he strode to tower above her, bringing the scent of spice and pure male. The handsome man wore a white cowboy shirt and dark jeans, his jaw freshly shaven, his hair neatly combed back.

She licked dry lips. “Not at all. Of course, I can’t condone what they did, but it was clearly a mistake rather than ill intent. Mr. Owens already called twice to check on them.”

“I heard him ring the other day. You were on the phone for a while.” He leaned against the rail, pulling the shirt flush against his muscles. “I hope they were happy with the handyman we sent over.”

Was it getting hot in here? “He couldn’t stop thanking me, but I was actually talking to Mrs. Owens for most of it.

” She smiled at the memory of the sweet, elderly woman.

“When she mentioned the past, I just went along. She laughed a lot, and afterwards Mr. Owens said it was the happiest he’d seen her in years.

” The sentiment had been so wonderful, she’d called to speak to Mrs. Owens the next day.

And the day after that. And every day since.

“Have I told you how amazing you are? You’ve done so much for so many people. Of course, you’ve helped these animals the most of all.” Rowan nodded to a preening mare, showing off her newly shiny coat. “These beauties might find homes tomorrow.”

Ciara flushed with pleasure. Nothing was more satisfying than a horse finding a good home, finally experiencing the life it deserved. It was bittersweet, though, for she got attached to each and every animal she rescued. With their unique personalities, she loved them all.

Rowan gave the mare one last pat and ambled down the row of horses. She fell into step beside him, smiling, yet her grin faltered when they reached Jasmine. The palomino was standing quietly in the corner, her tail twitching as she gazed into empty space. She jumped as they approached.

Ciara plucked a couple of apple slices from her pocket and offered them to the ailing horse. Jasmine snorted, turning away. “This girl isn’t nearly well enough to attend the festival.”

Rowan’s frown deepened. “Refusing apples? I thought she was doing better.”

“She was.” Ciara grimaced as she slid the fruit back in her pocket.

“She gets a little better, then a lot worse, and back and forth. Something isn’t right, but we don’t know if it’s emotional or physical.

” She slowly reached out once more. For a second the horse stood her ground, but then she edged back, her eyes flaring in alarm.

Ciara dropped her hand. “The vet is going to check her again after the festival.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He gave her a little squeeze, and they continued walking until they reached the end of the stables. An image flashed, of a lanky kid saving her from a precipitous fall off a bale of hay. It was right here that they met.

So much had changed since that fateful day.

The powerful man before her bore little resemblance to the boy he once was, his power and strength all man.

Even now, he affected her, casting pure desire.

Should she confess everything, expose the raw emotions tumbling within her?

Yet doubts arose, uncertainties urging hesitation.

Rowan wasn’t just any man. He was a man who controlled his world, who led others.

He concealed his emotions, while she wore hers for all to see.

Once, he shattered her heart. Would he do it again?

Was it worth risking everything for another chance?

Rowan leaned in closer, recapturing her attention. “You look like you’re calculating the odds of every horse in the Kentucky Derby.”

She closed her eyes, opened them. “You need to stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?”

Reading her mind.

Driving her crazy.

Making her believe in what-ifs.

“You know what.”

He stepped closer. “You’re overthinking this.”

“Am I?” She backed up, not because she was scared, but because she couldn’t focus while he hovered so near. “I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

He edged closer. Even though he didn’t touch her, he towered above her, upending her senses and quickening her heart. It took all her strength not to lean into him. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Neither have I.”

Ciara started at the unexpected confession. She searched his features for deception, but the truth shone bright in his eyes. “There’s something between us, something special, something rare. Why do you keep fighting it?”

For a moment, she stood silent, unsure of how to respond. Unsure of the answer. “I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed. What happened in the past–”

“Remains in the past. And the past is over.” He lowered his voice. “I cannot tell you how much I regret what I did.”

“You do?” She clasped her hands together, intertwining pale fingers. “Because you never were clear about why we broke up. Your father separated us, yet you ended it. Why?”

His hesitation hid a thousand veiled reasons. Yet then he hardened in challenge – and determination. “I am not accustomed to relinquishing control. I believed my path was set, and my role in it.”

He'd been forced into his role as a child, by his far too stern father. “You take responsibility for everyone and everything.”

“True, but I’m not the only one.” He gestured to the horses, yet kept his eyes on her. “You help everyone in need, whether human, horse or skunk.”

She snorted lightly. They were alike in so many ways. Yet was it enough? “I’m leaving soon.”

His features belied the assertion that was no longer certain. “We need to make some decisions.” She stiffened, held her breath, as he paused. Yet then… “But now isn’t the time.”

Disappointment and relief tangled, the desire to share all, the fear of where it would lead. As she edged ever-closer to surrendering to her feelings, danger threatened. If she gave the emotions words, there would be no turning back.

“We should focus on the grand opening.” He held her gaze. “After that, we’ll talk.”

“Talk,” she softly agreed. Yet that wasn’t what they did, as he leaned down.

He brushed her lips with his, offering the invitation she could never refuse.

His lips were warm and moist, his body hard and heavily muscled, as he held her near.

As always, he took control, caressing her, probing, surrounding her with his scent.

Yet the horses’ stomping brought them back to reality, and they broke the kiss, even as they held each other tight.

If only they could stay like this forever, savor their time without labels or decisions.

Yet soon they would need to clarify their relationship and forge the future.

“I got you a little something.” He pulled something out of his pocket. When he emerged with a dark velvet box, her heart began to flutter.

It couldn’t be…

“It isn’t much.” He carefully watched her reaction, seemed fascinated by her every movement.

She accepted it with not-so-steady hands, calming at how casually he handed it to her.

Surely, if it was something of significance, well that sort of significance, he wouldn’t be delivering it so nonchalantly.

She slowly lifted the petal-soft lid. Gold and gemstones sparkled within, glittering with nature’s artistry.

It was the most beautiful, unique locket she’d ever seen, an engraving of a horse surrounded by a halo of flawless diamonds.

At the top, a gleaming cushion cut emerald cast a rich green hue, reminiscent of the lush fields of Ireland.

It represented everything she cared for: horses, nature, Rowan. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Do you like it?” Satisfaction burned bright. “Open it,” he urged.

She put her fingernail on the tiny catch, releasing it with a soft click.

For a moment, she stared at the picture of two kids with matching cowboy hats and wide grins, their cheeks pinkened by the sun, before she gasped.

“It’s us!” She angled the tiny photograph in the amber light.

“Look at how young we were. That must have been my first summer here.”

“Frank took the picture.” Rowan ran his finger over the smooth image. “He was photographing the horses and noticed us playing in the stables. He took a quick snapshot.”

A vague memory surfaced, of some sort of cowboy game.

Frank had been drawn to the laughter, and something about the moment had captured him.

The slightly faded photograph showed such happiness, in her and the boy who would become the man before her.

Ciara clutched the locket in her hand. “How long have you had it?”

“Years,” he admitted softly. “It came from a larger print. When I got the locket, I created a smaller version.”

He’d kept the photograph all this time, even though they hadn’t seen each other in years? She turned the locket in her hands, to an etching in small, cursive letters. May all of your dreams come true. Love always, Rowan.

Nameless emotion welled inside her, powerful feelings splintering her resolve. In front of her, Rowan stood taller, yet his discomfort was obvious. He’d always had such difficulty sharing his true self. Yet he had… for her.

“Thank you.” She stood on her tippy-toes, brushed her lips over his. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

For a second, they just stood there, captured in each other’s world. Their inexplicable bond surged, as she leaned into him, as he wrapped his arms around her. He smelled of spice and the Irish woods, an intoxicating combination.

He leaned down and kissed her. Not her lips, but her forehead, like she was a precious gift. “I wish we could stay here forever,” he murmured. Instead, he touched the small of her back, and they walked together down the aisle, surrounded by horses.

She placed the locket over her head, holding it warm in her hands. When she’d first revealed the small box, her imagination had sparked with something far different, something permanent . It elicited a thousand feelings – shock, anxiety, but most of all…

Elation.

And that was the most telling of all.