Page 8 of A Billionaire's Secret

“So, can I? Or do you want to come with me?” She asked while frantically putting on her boots.

The thought of seeing Victoria at the club set a flame ablaze in my groin.

“I was hoping to enjoy a slow morning,” I began. “I’ll come see you later. Take the Lamborghini, but for God’s sake, please don’t speed.”

I cut a piece of bacon up and savored the smoky taste, only to be interrupted by Diana a second later.

“Oh, and Dad, I found this, whose is it?” She squinted her eyes with curiosity, handing me a gold charm shaped like a white daisy flower.

I gulped water to help my last bite go down and buy some time to craft a response.

“How should I know? Looks like something you’d wear,” I brushed her off, avoiding her eyes as I knew very well who the charm belonged to.

I’d seen it around Vitoria’s neck last night right after I had slipped her t-shirt off and exposed her plump breasts.

“Weird. It’s not mine, but whatever,” Diana mumbled, slid the charm into her pocket, and rushed out the door.

Phew. I dodged that bullet. For now.

I inhaled a few more bites of bacon and eggs, sipped some hot coffee, and jumped into the pool. My muscles fired up, and the faster I swam, the harder it became to stop. Each stroke reminded me of Victoria’s body bouncing up and down gracefully on my horse.

I wished I was as good at any sport as she was at hers. I’d take up different hobbies but get bored too quickly and move on to the next. The dedication I lacked for sports, I made up for in my business. But now, I didn’t even want to return to my Nashville office. I wondered if I could stay another week here in Louisville and take up yet another hobby–Victoria.

I finally came to a stop after what seemed like a million laps, caught my breath, jumped out of the pool, and ran up the stairs to my bedroom. I threw on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and some leather loafers and fired up the Jaguar. I couldn’t get to Barrington Downs fast enough.

***

The stables were a symphony of sights and sounds. Grooms diligently curried the horses, their brushes swirling through the dense coats, while trainers engaged in hushed conversations, discussing race strategies and training regimens.

My eyes darted from side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of either Diana or Victoria. Either one would have helped me feel less awkward and out of place.

I saw Victoria first. She wore brown tights and a black t-shirt that tightly hugged her bust and toned abs. She was holding her helmet with one hand and taking a drink of water with the other when she saw me. Her eyes landed on mine briefly and widened but then quickly shifted away. Almost immediately, she turned around and walked off without even acknowledging me.

I felt a punch in my gut. I could understand if she didn’t want to be seen with me. Especially with my daughter around. But we could be cordial.

My gaze followed Victoria until she disappeared behind the corner and left me standing alone in search of Diana. I walked around, closer to the ring, and saw my daughter stepping off a horse and heading over to a guy who looked like a horse vet.

I didn’t want to interrupt her, so I pretended to look at the horses while they talked and pricked up my ears, hoping to make out what they were saying.

“Don’t worry,” the vet said, “No one has said a thing.”

A thing about what?

Diana and the vet exchanged a few more hushed words, and when she saw me, she quickly brushed him off and headed my way.

“Daddy, you made it!” She beamed. “Did you see me in the ring?”

“No, hon. I literally just got here. Is something wrong with your horse?” I quizzed her and turned my head toward the vet.

“No, she’s great,” Diana replied hastily and proceeded to walk away. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m gonna change.”

Her brief answer and quick attitude didn’t sit well with me or my sixth sense. As soon as she was gone, I approached the vet and startled him from behind.

“Hey, doc. Can I have a word with you?”

He jolted at the sound of my voice, then turned around, and his eyes raced around nervously. "Oh, hi, Mr. Forbes.”

“What were you and my daughter talking about? Is anything wrong with her horse?” I towered over him, my brows gathered.

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