Man of Her Dreams Read Online Free
stared in the direction of the photographs on the wall, photographs of the horses Ry raised. They were pictures of his show jumpers winning at some of the most prestigious horse shows in the world. To Maggie the pictures were nothing more than squares with blobs of color on them; her concentration was elsewhere.
Ryâs frustration came out in a humorless laugh. âI donât understand the problem here, Maggie. Iâve listed every perfectly good reason for us to get married. What more do you want from me?â
Maggie closed her eyes on her tears. All sheâd ever wanted since sheâd been a goofy freshman at William and Mary was for Rylan Quaid to fall in love with her. But he couldnât have cut those words out of her with a knife. If she couldnât have Ryâs love, she would at least hang on to her pride.
She lifted her chin and gave him a belligerent stare. âI wonât have you propose to me simply because Iâm convenient. Iâm an admiralâs daughter, dammit, not some brood mare you picked up cheap at an auction. So you can take your offer on an extended honeymoon, Rylan Quaid, because I wouldnât marry you if you were the last man in the cosmos!â
Ry kicked the side of his desk and let loose a string of expletives as his office door slammed shut. He flung himself into his creaky old desk chair, planted his elbows on the ink blotter, and raked his fingers back through his dark hair. Theyâd hit the root of the problem, hadnât they?
She was an admiralâs daughter, and when you came right down to it, he wasnât anything more than a farmer. His crop might have been animals with price tags that ran into six figures, but that didnât keep him from sweating and getting dirt under his fingernails. The truth was, Maggie didnât think he was good enough for her.
Sheâd probably only gone out with him because she thought he was rich. Most people did think that. On paper he
was
rich, but everything he had was tied up in the farm, in the horses. He worked from sunup to sundown to keep the place in the black.
It had been a long, hard struggle to get Quaid Farm to the point it was now. When his father died, Ry had been going to the university in Charlottesville on a football scholarship. His dream had been to become a veterinarian. Instead, heâd inherited a huge debt and a load of responsibility.
A lot of dreams had died and been buried along with Tom Quaid. One had surfacedâto build the farm up into one of the finest in the country. He had done that. Many of the best horses in the national and international show rings had been bred and raised at Quaid Farm. At the top of the list was his own stallion, Rough Cut, who would soon be retired from competition and syndicated to stand at stud.
With a sardonic smile twisting his lips, Ry wondered if Maggie would find him acceptable as a husband once she heard the amount of money Rough Cut had been syndicated for. He would be rich then. No doubt women would be lining up to marry him.
Oddly that idea didnât appeal to him. He wanted Maggie McSwain. Heâd spent too many years as a horse breeder not to know a good cross when he saw one. Maggie might have her irrational female moments, but she was his match in every way. She wasnât afraid of hard work. She wasnât afraid to stand toe to toe with him in a shouting match. She had a body that tempted him until he didnât trust himself to get within three feet of her. She had a nurturing quality that would make her a wonderful mother.
All he had to do was close his eyes and he could see her nursing his baby son at her beautiful, ripe breast. The scene brought a surge of warmth to his heart and his loins. Opening his eyes, he denied both feelings and set his mind to the task at hand.
He wanted Maggie McSwain for his bride, and he was going to do whatever he needed to get her.
Everything short of falling in love.
TWO
T HE LONG,
Ryâs frustration came out in a humorless laugh. âI donât understand the problem here, Maggie. Iâve listed every perfectly good reason for us to get married. What more do you want from me?â
Maggie closed her eyes on her tears. All sheâd ever wanted since sheâd been a goofy freshman at William and Mary was for Rylan Quaid to fall in love with her. But he couldnât have cut those words out of her with a knife. If she couldnât have Ryâs love, she would at least hang on to her pride.
She lifted her chin and gave him a belligerent stare. âI wonât have you propose to me simply because Iâm convenient. Iâm an admiralâs daughter, dammit, not some brood mare you picked up cheap at an auction. So you can take your offer on an extended honeymoon, Rylan Quaid, because I wouldnât marry you if you were the last man in the cosmos!â
Ry kicked the side of his desk and let loose a string of expletives as his office door slammed shut. He flung himself into his creaky old desk chair, planted his elbows on the ink blotter, and raked his fingers back through his dark hair. Theyâd hit the root of the problem, hadnât they?
She was an admiralâs daughter, and when you came right down to it, he wasnât anything more than a farmer. His crop might have been animals with price tags that ran into six figures, but that didnât keep him from sweating and getting dirt under his fingernails. The truth was, Maggie didnât think he was good enough for her.
Sheâd probably only gone out with him because she thought he was rich. Most people did think that. On paper he
was
rich, but everything he had was tied up in the farm, in the horses. He worked from sunup to sundown to keep the place in the black.
It had been a long, hard struggle to get Quaid Farm to the point it was now. When his father died, Ry had been going to the university in Charlottesville on a football scholarship. His dream had been to become a veterinarian. Instead, heâd inherited a huge debt and a load of responsibility.
A lot of dreams had died and been buried along with Tom Quaid. One had surfacedâto build the farm up into one of the finest in the country. He had done that. Many of the best horses in the national and international show rings had been bred and raised at Quaid Farm. At the top of the list was his own stallion, Rough Cut, who would soon be retired from competition and syndicated to stand at stud.
With a sardonic smile twisting his lips, Ry wondered if Maggie would find him acceptable as a husband once she heard the amount of money Rough Cut had been syndicated for. He would be rich then. No doubt women would be lining up to marry him.
Oddly that idea didnât appeal to him. He wanted Maggie McSwain. Heâd spent too many years as a horse breeder not to know a good cross when he saw one. Maggie might have her irrational female moments, but she was his match in every way. She wasnât afraid of hard work. She wasnât afraid to stand toe to toe with him in a shouting match. She had a body that tempted him until he didnât trust himself to get within three feet of her. She had a nurturing quality that would make her a wonderful mother.
All he had to do was close his eyes and he could see her nursing his baby son at her beautiful, ripe breast. The scene brought a surge of warmth to his heart and his loins. Opening his eyes, he denied both feelings and set his mind to the task at hand.
He wanted Maggie McSwain for his bride, and he was going to do whatever he needed to get her.
Everything short of falling in love.
TWO
T HE LONG,
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