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“And the Hovitos was based on the Chachpoyas of Peru, the “Warriors of the Clouds,” she pointed out as she settled on the couch. She gazed up at him as he poured them each a glass of wine. “It warms my heart that you are a fan of Doctor Jones.”
“Yes, Short Round, I am.” He handed her the glass, referring to the way she said, Doctor Jones. “And I will defend those movies to my dying breath. Every single one of them.” He sat down next to her.
“Oh really? Cool.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Defend Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I’ll wait. “She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.
Alexander wasn’t expecting her challenge. It caught him off guard. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it, his brow furrowing.
“I’m waiting.”
He laughed. “Give me a moment. I’m trying to formulate my response here.” He sipped at his wine as he began to pace. “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull gave us Doctor Jones in the position of mentor to his son, Mutt, not that we knew Mutt was his son at the onset of the movie. It revisited the love affair between Indy and Marian. And... “He held up his forefinger to make a point. “It incorporated all of the fun and camp and pulp of the movies from the 1950s. After all, that’s what those movies were supposed to be about.”
Claire’s lips twitched. “Keep going.”
He stared at her, blinking for a moment. “Indiana Jones brought back the adventurous spirit of 1950s Hollywood, invoking the spirit of classics such as The African Queen with Humphrey Bogart and The Hidden Fortress with Toshiro Mifune and Kamatari Fujiwara. They were adventurous and sparked the imagination. They kept viewers on their toes. “He pointed at Claire with the hand holding the wine glass. “You cannot tell me that the opening scenes of Crystal Skull didn’t set the tone for the movie. That Indy being caught by the enchanting Russian agent and having to survive a nuclear test...by hiding in an icebox didn’t get you on the edge of your seat. And the aliens…that was a direct reference to Roswell and the alien crash and all the supposed things they are hiding at Area 51. That was the sci-fi thing in the 50s. It was perfection. “
“No, it did. Keep going. I’m enjoying this.” And she was. She had never seen Alexander Blackwood this animated before.
“That’s what all of the Indiana Jones movies do. Even the new one keeps up the pace set by the previous four. It rolls all of that 50s pulp novel adventure and storytelling together. That’s why they are such good movies. It’s why we want more.” He plopped down on the couch next to her. “Even Temple of Doom had that pulp feel. I mean, how outrageous is the mining tunnel car rollercoaster scene? “he asked, rolling his head along the back of the couch to look at her.
Claire held up her hands. “I totally agree. And you completely defended Indy. I’m impressed.”
“I truly hope your day has been more productive than mine.” He took a sip of his wine.
“It was. As a matter of fact, I hold in my hands a game plan.” He sat so close to her that she could smell the lingering scent of his cologne and feel the heat coming off his body. She sipped her wine and set the glass on the table next to her. "I spoke with all of the drivers, got their opinions on the horses, what they feel are the horse's idiosyncracies, anything they could tell me about the equipment....all of it." She handed him the folder. "This is the training regimen I want to put into place, the equipment we will need to replace, and which racer I want to work with and the horse I think they are best suited to."
Alexander rested the ankle of his right leg on his left knee and set the folder in the triangle his legs made, opening it and thumbing through the pages for a second before starting to read the comprehensive report she had compiled. He sipped his wine as he did. He had to admit the report was comprehensive, and some of her suggestions would get pushback from his drivers. However, her analysis was sound and based not only on the information the drivers gave her but also on her own observations and interactions with the horses.
He wasn't surprised some of the equipment needed upgrading. When he first got into harness racing, he invested very little in order to see if it would be something he wanted to pursue. He tapped his fingers against his chin and nodded before closing the folder. He set it on the coffee table before them. “Do it. I can’t argue with anything you suggest. You have backed it up with the research, and if you think this is what we need to do, then let’s do it. We'll speak to the drivers together. If they are truly invested, then we won't lose any.” He shifted on the couch to face her more fully. “How do you feel about actually racin"?"
“Well, I was going to go with Joker’s Quest. Did you want me to race other"?” Her brow furrowed in contemplation. He had offered her the opportunity to race under his colors and keep anything she made with her horse. If she raced under his colors, she would get the trainer and the jockey share of any winnings. “Do I get the same deal? Will I keep the winnings if I race Joker under your colors?"
“Yes. Anyou'llll get the jockey and trainer share of anything you win with one of my horse".” He loved the way she chewed her lower lip as she thought about it. He stood up and walked over to the bar, refilling their wine glasses while he waited for her to decide. Ever since she agreed to work for himhe'd’d been distracted by her presence. Hcouldn't’t deny that he wanted her, had wanted her from the day he first saw her with his stallion. And he'd caught her watching him, her cheeks flushing as she turned away.
Even during the two Saturday morning rides they had taken together shhadn't’t shied away from his advances. She responded to his overt flirtations, enjoyed his compliments, and never declined an offer of dinner in his home. He carried the glasses of wine back to the sofa, handing her her glass in such a way that their fingers grazed.
Claire gazed up at Alexander to tell him her decision, but the touch of his fingers against hers sent a jolt through her. The words died on her lips, her heart racing. Before she realized what was happening, he had taken the glass back, putting it on the table and drawing her to her feet." I'm going to kiss you, Claire Reynolds, so if you don’t want me to, say so now,” he stated, pulling her against him. When she didn’t reply, he lowered his lips to hers, taking her breath away. When she didn’t pull away, when he felt her body soften against his, her hands gripping his biceps to steady herself, he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to duel with hers as he claimed her. Claire’s head was spinning. Her fertile imagination could not have prepared her for the intensity of Alexander Blackwood’s kiss. Heat pooled low, and the butterflies in her stomach were trying to escape. She could not help her small moan when his tongue invaded her mouth, dueling for supremacy. She could feel the heat of his hand at the small of her back, the way his fingers gently gripped the back of her neck. If she died at that moment, she’d die happy.
When he finally let her up for air, she managed to answer him. “Yes.”
Alexander looked down at her in confusion. “Yes to what?” he inquired, his voice as husky as hers.
“Yes, racing for you. And anything else you ask for,” she breathes against his lips.
Chapter 5
Claire watched as the clouds rolled in, blanketing the Blue Ridge Mountains with a hazy mist. She glanced at Alexander. “We need to hurry if we want to get these up before that storm moves in.”
Alexander stood and looked behind him. She was right. The storm was moving fast. “We’re going to get wet,” he stated as he bent back down to the gate they were installing in the track ring. He had come back from Washington, DC, to find her trying to install the gate by herself. Over the last few weeks, they had managed to clean up and repair the practice ring behind Claire’s cottage, adding new drainage and a substrate of sand and fiber. They’d also expanded it by meters so she could work the horses that were new and not yet used to a silky. Fixing the gate was the last thing they needed to do.
The sky opened up twenty minutes later, just as they were making the final balance to the gate. Alexander grabbed Claire’s hand and together they ran towards the house, laughing. It wasn’t the first time they had gotten caught in the rain. It wouldn’t be the last. They stood on the back porch watching the rain come down, thunder booming across the sky. “Well, at least we got it finished,” Claire laughed. “So much for going for a ride. Loki is just going to have to enjoy the comfort of the barn with the All-Father,” she commented. She had started riding a horse named Odin, the “All-Father,” a week after riding him almost every day. He was headstrong and stubborn, but she could not have picked a better horse.
Loki was Odin’s brother and was owned by Alexander. He was more of a handful than Odin, but they had an understanding. Alexander looked down at Claire. “You spoil them both, you know.” He saw her grin and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, would you?”
Claire nodded. “I think I can round up something. Not sure what. You may wind up sitting around my house in a nightgown. Or bootie shorts.” She chuckled as she pulled off her boots and left them on the porch. “Anything I have is still going to be too short for you. You are all legs!” she teased. She pulled off her wet socks and left them in the laundry room. There were fresh towels on top of the dryer, and she grabbed one, tossing it to Alexander as he came in, his own boots and socks on the porch.
She wandered into her bedroom, leaving him to dry off in the kitchen. “Toss your clothes in the washroom, and we can dry them,” she called back. A loud crack of thunder made the windows shake, and the lights flicker before going out. “Or not,” she mumbled. Quickly, she shed her own wet clothing, grabbing an oversized t-shirt nightgown and tossing it on over her panties. She opened up the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants she had kept around for those days when she didn’t feel like dressing. They were big on her and a bit threadbare in places but comfy. She grabbed a big old concert t-shirt and walked back into the kitchen. “I hope my clothing options don’t bother your sensitive billionaire skin,” she laughed. The sight of Alexander standing there in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs made her stop in her tracks. “Or you could jog the quarter mile to your house and change…” she said before falling silent. She gripped the clothes tightly in her hands, watching him as he dried off and worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
Alexander picked up his clothes and tossed them in the dryer. He didn’t bother turning it on, having seen the lights flicker and go out. But then, he hadn’t planned on going home any time soon. He was towel drying his hair as he walked back into the kitchen and looked up to see Claire staring at him. Her eyes were big, and her cheeks flushed. He had never seen that look on her face, and he honestly liked what it did to him. “Not what you were expecting?” he asked as he walked towards her.
