Chapter 2
Scarlett's POV
After that kiss, Colt avoided me like the plague.
Three DAYS! Every time I showed up, he magically vanished. Did this damn cowboy think hiding would solve anything?
I paced my room frantically, then hit on the perfect excuse.
At dawn, I roared up to the bunkhouse in my red Lamborghini.
The engine's growl made several cowboys poke their heads out, faces full of shock and curiosity.
"What's Miss King doing here?"
"Think she's looking for trouble?"
Ignoring the chatter, I walked straight to the most run-down cabin in the corner. A crude wooden sign hung by the door—"C. Wilde."
Before I could knock, the door opened.
Colt appeared, hair still damp from a shower. His white T-shirt clung to his solid chest, bronze skin gleaming healthy in the morning light.
Jesus. My throat went dry as I swallowed hard.
Seeing me, he froze completely, instinctively moving to close the door.
"Miss King? What are you...?"
"I'm here to discuss business." I stepped forward deliberately, blocking the door. "May I come in?"
He hesitated, then finally stepped aside.
The room was painfully sparse—single bed, broken dresser, thick geology textbooks on the desk. The walls were covered with hand-drawn maps and oil exploration data.
Just as I remembered. This man's gift for oil had shown itself ten years early.
"What do you need?" Colt crossed his arms over his chest.
"I want to hire you as my private riding instructor."
"What?" His brow furrowed. "Miss King, you have the best instructors in Texas. Why would you..."
"Three hundred dollars an hour," I cut him off. "Just for one month."
He quickly shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Miss King. I'm just a ranch hand..."
"Then prove it to me." I stepped closer, deliberately shrinking the distance between us. "Prove you're worth it."
He instinctively backed up until his back hit the wall.
I moved closer still, close enough to feel the tension radiating from his body. "Or are you..." I smiled softly, "actually AFRAID of what I might do to you?"
My challenge sparked anger in his eyes, quickly replaced by something far more complex.
We stood in silence for a full minute. I could hear his slightly ragged breathing.
"One month only," he finally said, his voice rough.
"Deal." I extended my hand. "Tomorrow at nine AM. Private arena."
The next day at the King family's private arena.
I'd carefully chosen a fitted riding outfit—white breeches that made my legs look long and lean, a black fitted top that perfectly outlined my curves.
When Colt saw my outfit, he clearly froze, then quickly looked away.
"We'll start with basics." He cleared his throat, trying to maintain professional distance. "Let me check your form first."
I clumsily climbed onto the horse, deliberately making my posture look awkward. When I bent forward, my tight top rode up, revealing a strip of bare waist.
"Like this?" I looked back at him, blinking innocently.
His gaze lingered on my waist for a moment before he hastily looked away, a flush creeping up his face.
"Keep your back straight, and your hands are wrong too..." His voice sounded tense. "I need to... need to adjust your position."
"Of course. You're the instructor."
Colt took a deep breath, then moved behind me, his trembling hands touching my waist.
"Your waist needs to... to relax... hold the reins like this..."
He wrapped around me from behind, adjusting my hand position. I deliberately leaned back, pressing my back fully against his broad chest.
Instantly, I felt his entire body go rigid.
"I still don't get it..." I said softly. "Could you show me more carefully?"
I felt his whole body tense, his breathing becoming rapid and unsteady.
"Hold this position... relax..." His voice shook, the words practically ground out through clenched teeth.
We stayed in that intimate position. I could feel his body's... certain changes. That uniquely male... reaction.
I laughed softly and deliberately shifted my body.
"Ah!" He jerked back like he'd been burned, putting distance between us, face flushed crimson.
"That's... that's enough for today! You need more practice with the basics!"
He practically fled the arena.
Watching his panicked retreat, I couldn't help but laugh.
This was too much fun.
The next evening, the King family's luxurious dining room.
Crystal chandeliers cast soft light over the long table set with fine silver and fresh flowers. This was our family's traditional dinner, and Preston as my fiancé was always invited.
"Darling," Preston raised his wine glass, "I think we should move up our wedding date."
My hand paused mid-cut on my steak.
"Move it up? Why?"
"The oil market's been volatile lately," Preston's eyes flashed with calculation. "If our families unite sooner, it would not only complement our businesses but send a stability signal to the market."
Father nodded. "Preston makes sense. Our alliance could help weather the coming crisis."
Crisis? Alarm bells rang in my head! My past-life memories told me it was Preston's schemes that led to the King family's downfall!
"I'm not ready," I said calmly. "Marriage is serious business. We can't rush it for commercial reasons."
Preston's expression turned cold. "We've been engaged for two years, Scarlett."
"Exactly why we shouldn't rush." I met his eyes. "I want to prove myself professionally first. Prove I'm more than just the King family's decoration."
Silence fell over the table.
Preston set down his glass and sneered. "I hope you'll think carefully. Some opportunities won't come again."
After dinner, Preston offered to walk me to my room. On the garden path, he suddenly stopped.
"You've been acting strange lately, Scarlett." His voice was cold in the darkness. "Has something affected your judgment?"
I feigned confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Like..." He turned to face me, eyes narrowing. "A certain cowboy who saved you?"
My heart raced, but I stayed calm.
"You're overthinking, Preston."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I hope so."
He turned and disappeared into the night.
But I knew he wouldn't let this go.
The next morning in a small conference room at the estate office building, two men faced each other.
Preston sat in the leather chair, fingers drumming the table, studying the standing Colt with amusement.
"Sit down, Mr. Wilde."
Colt didn't move. "I prefer standing, Mr. Stone."
"Suit yourself." Preston shrugged. "I think we have some... old business to settle."
The air instantly froze.
Colt's expression didn't change, but his hands slowly clenched into fists.
"Three years ago, that money," Preston said deliberately. "Three hundred thousand dollars. Remember?"
Colt's jaw tightened. "I remember."
"Good. Then you remember our agreement." Preston stood and walked to the window. "That money wasn't free. It came with conditions."
"I did what you asked."
"Did you?" Preston turned, mocking. "Because it seems you've forgotten certain... boundaries."
Colt remained silent, but his fists clenched tighter.
"Also," Preston returned to his seat, "I hope you understand your place. Some people aren't for you to touch. Some dreams aren't for you to have."
He paused, his gaze turning sharp. "If you DARE cross that line..."
He didn't finish, but the threat was crystal clear.
Colt stared at him deeply, said nothing, then turned and strode toward the door.
"Remember, Wilde." Preston's cold voice followed him. "Some debts last a lifetime. Especially... debts to ME."
