Matched to a Billionaire(40)

Grant tried his hardest not to burst out laughing. She was starting to   sound like his oh-so-organized twin sister … or at least how he remembered   his sister before her accident.

Seeing as how Tessa still hadn't shown a hint of a smile, he assumed she   was dead serious. Wow, this woman would be tough to crack. He loved a   challenge, but something told him she wanted nothing to do with this   movie. Most people would be thrilled to know Hollywood wanted to make a   film around their life and on their property. The majority of the women   he knew would give their entire shoe collection to be associated with a   Bronson Dane movie with Max Ford as lead actor.

Grant watched as Tessa stroked the horse's mane with precision and care.   This woman was obviously not impressed with him or this film. She   seemed to be in her own world of details and structure, from the   spreadsheet to her perfectly placed low ponytail. He had a feeling the   beautiful Tessa Barrington rarely had her feathers ruffled.

And he'd so love to ruffle her. But beyond coproducing this film, he   couldn't get swept back into the world that had ruined his family's   life. He had to keep any personal emotions off this set. His next goal,   of starting his own production company, was within reach, and he'd be   damned if he'd let his guilt and fear hold him back.

"When is my first time slot, Tessa?" he asked, propping his hands on his   hips as he took a step back from the open stall. "My team will be   arriving in a month, and I plan on outlining the sites for the order of   filming after I visit all the locations. But I'm flexible. I'll work   around you."

With perfect ease, she turned, tapped the brush against her palm and   tipped her head. "I know my father agreed to have me help you, but my   racing has and always will come first. I should make it clear I'm not   happy about this film and I don't endorse any part of it."

Grant couldn't help but grin. Apparently Tessa wasn't a fan of having   her work disrupted. Actually, she was a refreshing change from the women   who stumbled over themselves to get his attention because of his   celebrity status and his bank account. Tessa was obviously impressed   with neither, which only made her even more intriguing.

"I understand you're a busy woman," he repeated, hoping to use a little   charm to get on her good side. "I'll try not to take up too much of  your  time."

"I only agreed to let you shadow me because I refuse for this film to be   anything but accurate. I don't want my father's life spun into   something ugly or devious."                       
       
           



       

Interesting. Clearly, Tessa had had an unpleasant experience somewhere   along the way, and now Grant was in her path of anger. Lovely. Nothing   like spending the next month working closely with a bitter woman.

"I will make sure this movie is done to everyone's satisfaction and is the best film we can produce," he promised.

"Looks like we'll both be getting our way, then," she said with a tight smile.

Both get their way? His eyes roamed over her delicate frame. Oh, the   possibilities. Slipping that tight ponytail down would be the first.   Unbuttoning her stiff shirt would be next.

And making use of that empty stall would be another.

Yeah, this would definitely be a long month.

Tessa knew when a man was attracted; she wasn't stupid. And in all   honesty, she found this hotshot producer pretty sexy, but she'd built up   an immunity to sexy, smooth talkers.

Besides, the last guy who'd captured her attention was a city boy   through and through. His polished shoes, designer suits and perfectly   coiffed hair hadn't bothered her. What bothered her was when he'd   decided to use her name and finances to further his small-business   venture.

There was no way Tessa would let herself get sidelined by some   captivating, powerful stranger from Hollywood just because he made her   heart beat a bit quicker with that one-sided smile and those   heavy-lidded eyes.

Most twenty-five-year-old women were getting married and having babies.   Tessa opted to chase her own set of dreams-the Triple Crown.

There was no time for serious relationships when she lived in a stable,   training most hours of the day. And she most definitely thought more of   herself than to let go of her innocence for a quickie.

Besides, she'd learned the hard way how cruel relationships could be and   how the word trust meant different things to different people.

"I need to take Oliver out for a ride," she told Grant, hoping he'd take   those sultry eyes and be on his way for now. "I assumed when Dad said   you'd arrive today, it would be later, so I had blocked out a two hour   window for you after lunch."

He checked his watch. "I can come back, but it may help if I have that spreadsheet, so I know when not to disturb you."

Tessa sighed. He was mocking her. That was fine; she was used to it. But   the last guy who'd decided to make a joke of her had found himself out   one girlfriend and a whole lot of pride by the time she'd finished  with  him. Of course, his mocking had come on a whole other, more  painful  level.

She moved to the next stall, where Oliver, her beautiful Thoroughbred,   waited for his warm-up. Oliver wasn't her racing horse. No, he was her   baby, and she loved him as dearly as she would her own child. He was a   bit finicky, a bit hyper some might say, but Tessa and he understood   each other. And they pretty much both loathed outsiders.

"I'll bring that spreadsheet to our meeting," she told Grant as she slid   open the stall. Oliver, restless as usual, started his bucking dance,   his way of letting her know he was more than ready to go. "I can meet   you back here in two hours-"

One second she was talking and the next she was in Grant's arms. She   hadn't seen him move, but suddenly he was pulling her away from the   opening in the stall.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking up into the most impressive set of dark, near-black eyes.

Grant stood frozen, his arms wrapped around her, his eyes now wide and   focused on Oliver. With his attention not directly on her, she could   take a moment to appreciate the strong jawline beneath the dark stubble,   the tanned skin, his firm grip on her, giving her the opportunity to   learn that he had fabulous muscle tone beneath that new gray flannel   shirt.

And he smelled so damn good. Perhaps she was just glad to be inhaling   something other than hay and horse poop, but Grant Carter's aftershave,   cologne or the combination of both was masculine, strong and sexy … just   like the man.

"Grant?" she asked, sliding from his grasp.

His gaze went from the stallion to her and held, before he shook his head as if to focus.

"He jumped when you started to step in," Grant told her, taking a step   back and raking a hand through his short, messy hair. "I didn't want you   to get hurt."

Still confused at his overreaction, but a little touched by his instant   ride to the rescue, Tessa crossed her arms. "Hurt? I won't get hurt   tending to the horses, Grant. Oliver is always like this. That's why I'm   the only one who handles him."

Grant shrugged. "My apologies. I'm just not used to horses."

She tilted her head, still trying to get a feel for this newcomer into her world. "Are you going to be okay on this set?"                       
       
           



       

"I'm fine." He sent her another killer, knee-weakening smile. "I didn't want you hurt, that's all."

The way those dark eyes held hers, and the soft, yet firm tone of his   voice washed over her like a warm, protective blanket. She didn't want   to feel anything for this man. But that protective streak, and an   underlying secret vulnerability, made him even more attractive in her   eyes.

"I don't think that's all," she commented, calling him out on whatever   seemed to cripple him. "I don't want to be rude, but you are working on a   film about horses. Shouldn't you know something about them?"

That sexy smile spread wider across his face as Grant eased forward with   a slow, easy stride any cowboy would envy. But this man was from L.A.,   the city of sin and silicone. If it weren't for the newly purchased   clothes, which were so fresh looking they might as well have the tags   dangling, Tessa would swear he lived on a farm.