The Soon-To-Be-Disinherited Wife

offered but not for passion.

Okay, she kept telling herself. Okay. This is some kind of aberration. Ghosts aren’t real. Hallucinations aren’t real. He was terribly stressed, she figured. That was all this was really about. He’d always been a workaholic beyond all sanity, so then he’d come home and been terribly worried about his sister-and he’d never been a guy who tolerated frustration well.

Yeah. That was it. He was just letting off steam with these kisses.

Only she wasn’t. She didn’t have steam to let off. This…clinging to him. This wildly, fiercely kissing him back. This teasing him, rubbing against him…none of this made sense. It wasn’t her.

This wasn’t sex. This was heart-altering. This wasn’t passion. It was touching at some other level. Down, down, down at the deep, sad loneliness level. Damn it, she hadn’t been lonely in all this time. She hadn’t.

Yet he made her feel that way.

As if she’d been alone since they’d last kissed as teenagers. As if she’d needed no one until this moment. As if she’d been coping fine-which she had, she had-until Garrett came home and took her mouth this way and made it all come crumbling down.

She felt his hands soothing down her back, seducing with every rub, every caress. His mouth still took more kisses, took ownership of her senses. He spun her around, pressed her against a honey-pine wall. The rough pine felt good against her spine, a relief after that dangerous silk mouth of his. His hands roamed her arms now, then whispered between them, reaching for her blouse buttons.

Her eyes shot open.

He hadn’t felt her bare breasts yet. They hadn’t removed any clothes. But a couple minutes more of this, and Emma would have peeled down without his asking. Without any talk. Without her thinking even once of her fiance.

She broke away, slid out from under his arms, looked at him-stricken-and then shot out the door and down the stairs.

Four

At first the sky only dribbled down, but in a matter of minutes the rain turned into a flushing downpour. Emma flicked the windshield wipers on high, but they couldn’t keep up. The windows started to steam. Thankfully Reed’s place was only a few more miles, because she could barely see.

Her nerves echoed the snap of lightning as she finally reached the sign for Rosedale Farms.

She had to see her fiance. Now. This afternoon.

The embrace she’d shared with Garrett was still glued on her mind-and heart. It was wrong in every way to have kissed another man when she was engaged. And worse than that-much, much worse-was realizing she’d responded to Garrett more honestly and passionately than she’d ever responded to Reed.

She’d assumed the old sizzle she’d once felt for Garrett was the stuff of young hormones and first love-the kind of thing a woman outgrew. She honestly didn’t know she had that kind of sexuality or sensuality in her. Didn’t know life even held that possibility for her. And she had no idea what all these feelings for Garrett meant, if anything. But right now wasn’t the time to deal with that.

Right now what she absolutely had to deal with was facing Reed. There was no more denying that something was gravely, fundamentally wrong with their relationship. Maybe she’d realized before that they hardly had a grand passion for each other, but not that they were missing something critically elemental.

Her whole world felt shaken. She kept telling herself that a few kisses from an old love shouldn’t have the power to upend her life. But reality was more that seeing Garrett again had forced open old, carefully locked emotional doors. She’d never meant to lie to herself, but it seemed she had.

Anxiety thrummed in her pulse. She’d never deliberately run from trouble or responsibility. Her mother had taught her that. Her mom, for as long as Emma could remember, had sneaked little nips all through the day “just to take the edge off.” Emma remembered her childhood as nonstop tiptoeing, trying to be quiet for her mother, trying not to give her mom yet another reason to take one of those infernal nips. So no, Emma was a long way from perfect. She did things wrong, made mistakes, sometimes bad mistakes.

But at least she didn’t run.

Yeah, right, she thought wryly as she braked in front of the stables. Her heart was thumping louder than thunder. Everywhere she looked there were tons of vehicles-the big house always had a bunch of cars parked outside, and this afternoon, with the rain, the barns and stables had pickups of all sizes and shapes lined up like a parking lot.

Rosedale had been named after Reed’s grandmother, and although Reed ran the whole kit and caboodle, his entire family was involved. And needed to be. The Kellys did everything related to horses-boarding, foaling, bloodstock management. Reed owned and trained a number of racehorses, as well, and he kept a full roster of pedigreed stallions available for stud service. The place was always packed.

In principle, Emma loved riding. But in reality she’d only done it three times because she’d fallen off all three times-a running joke between her and Reed, given his business. The point, though, was that all those cars and trucks meant he was busy. Still, Reed was always busy at this time of year, so if she wanted to talk to him, she had to track him down here and see if he could steal a few minutes.

There was no way she could break it off with him on the phone-nor would she ever have chosen that coward’s way out.

She climbed out of the car and dashed for the stable office-her first best bet at finding him. Rain soaked through her pale blue shirt and pants, but it was a warm enough rain. She was inside in seconds. Horsey smells immediately rushed her nostrils-hay and horseflesh and leather and liniment and you-know-what. Truthfully she’d always liked the smells-even the you-know-what. Just because horses never liked her didn’t mean she wasn’t fond of them.

Today, though, her stomach roiled the minute she stepped in-not because of the smell, but because she immediately heard the crazed sounds from the far end of the stable. She knew what the sounds were, knew what they meant. A mare was being mounted by a stallion-a force-feed situation that Reed was invariably directly involved in, because an ardent stallion could, and often did, hurt a mare if humans didn’t direct the activity. Harnesses and pulleys and lifts and all kinds of unlikely things were used to aid an advantageous mating. Emma got it. Advantageous marriages were a big deal in high society, no different. But if there was anything unromantic in this life, it was a mare and stallion get-together.

Instantly she realized that she’d been an idiot to come without calling-and a selfish idiot besides. Reed had never minded an impromptu visit from her, but this was different. She wasn’t just visiting. This panicked rush to see him was absurd. It wasn’t as if anything had to be settled that very second. It was guilt driving her, not really need.

Before she could turn around, Reed spotted her and separated himself from the clutch of people near the breeding station.

“Emma!”

Oh, God. His face lit up with a welcoming smile, as if she hadn’t obviously crashed his busy day. “What a great surprise,” he said and swooped down for a hug-then stopped with a sheepish grin. He did smell like horse and man sweat-and eau de stable in general. It was one of the things she loved about Reed, his consideration for her. But right then she didn’t care. She wanted a hug from her fiance.

She wanted, needed, some kind of proof that she was crazy. If she could just feel something solid for him-with him-maybe she could talk herself out of breaking this off. She forced a warm smile. “I can see I picked the worst moment in the universe to see you. You’re busier than a one-armed bandit.”

“And with one of your favorite things. But His Highness finally decided to perform, so I believe we can sneak away from the unwilling lovebirds-”

Over his shoulder she could see at least two people turn in his direction as if wanting to ask him a question. “Darn it,” she said. “I really did pick a rotten time. I should have called.”

“I’d rather see you than do business anytime. But what’s wrong?” He steered her toward the stable office,