Man of Her Dreams by Tami Hoag

only give it back. He had good qualities: He was loyal, he would be faithful, he was a hard worker, a good provider. Those were fine qualities, but they weren’t the things that inspired women to write love sonnets.
    His eyes found Carter Hill again, and he wished the poor man to the blackest corner of hell simply because he looked perfectly at ease in a tuxedo. Well, a tuxedo was the next to the last thing Ry needed. The last was to fall in love. Fortifying the walls he’d built around his heart, he told himself yet again that he would have Maggie McSwain for his bride because she was the logical choice and for no other reason. Then, with the bitter taste of a lie in his mouth, he went to escort his date to their table for dinner.
    â€œThis should prove interesting,” Christian said loud enough so only Ry could hear him. The trainer pulled out a chair for his date, a lovely brunette in a shimmering red gown, as his laughing eyes took in the group of people gathering at the large, round table.
    Ry’s brows slashed into a deep V over stormy eyes. Carter Hill had positioned himself directly across from Maggie. Short of making a scene that would undoubtedly get him thrown out of the Charlottesville hotel, there was nothing he could do about it. The banquet committee had made no formal seating arrangements. Also taking places at the table were Katie and Nick, who had come to see him accept an award from the VGA in honor of Rough Cut’s brilliant career and pending retirement; Taylor Burwell, a wealthy retired businessman and investor in the Rough Cut syndicate; and Miss Emma Darlington.
    Miss Emma wasted no time introducing herself to the distinguished Mr. Burwell, and seated herself beside him. Smiling, she leaned into him as she adjusted her napkin on the lap of her silver gray dress.
    â€œMiss Emma,” Ry said. “What a surprise to see you here.”
    â€œShe told me she was coming to cruise for beefcake,” Maggie whispered, earning a disgusted look from her date.
    â€œThe Darlingtons have always supported the equestrian sports,” Miss Emma explained, cooling herself with an antique lace-and-ivory fan as she smiled coyly up at Burwell. “Our daddy, Jay Randolph Darlington, once jumped his horse through the crotch of a tree in Donner Park merely to gain the attention of a certain young lady. I was, myself, an avid equestrian for many years.”
    â€œWere you, my dear?” Burwell asked.
    Miss Emma gave a throaty chuckle. “Why, you can’t imagine the things I’ve done on horseback.”
    Ry choked a little on his drink and glared at Maggie, as if it was her fault for telling him Miss Emma had a rather randy nature.
    The old woman’s eyes took on a faraway gleam. “There was one time in particular—”
    â€œIt’s a shame Mrs. Claiborne wasn’t able to attend also,” Maggie said, heading off what was undoubtedly another ribald tale.
    Miss Emma shook her head. “She would have spent the entire evening worrying about Junior. She and that little dog have become inseparable. They’ll both be at the show tomorrow. Will you be there, Mr. Burwell?”
    Ry lost interest in the conversation when he caught Carter Hill gazing across the table at Maggie with calf eyes and his tongue all but hanging out of his mouth. He refrained from launching himself at the slender auburn-haired lawyer, managing to grind out a question instead. “On your own tonight, Hill?”
    â€œHuh? Oh—a—yes. I’m afraid my date came down with something at the last minute.”
    â€œTerminal boredom, no doubt,” Ry said under his breath. He started to lean his elbows on the table, then pulled himself up short, looking like a moron. Carter Hill didn’t put his elbows on the table.
    Maggie sent a charming smile to her ex-beau. “I’m amazed you didn’t have girls lined up to take her place, Carter.”
    Ry almost