He started to snap back, then sighed, defeated. "I love you too." Slipping into bed, he cradled her against him.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep. I'm supposed to check on you every couple of hours. We don't have much more than that anyway."

"The liniment."

"Later. I just want to hold you."

Content with that, she brushed his hair from his brow. "Gabe. I'm going with you."

"I know. Go to sleep."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NO ONE WOULD LET HER WORK. FOR HER FIRST TWO DAYS IN NEW York, Kelsey was all but barred from the track, outnumbered and outflanked by everyone from Gabe down to the scruffiest stableboy. It seemed the trip itself was to be her only victory.

With too much time on her hands, and too much of it spent alone, she decided she had two options. She could go quietly mad, or she could treat the enforced inactivity as a short vacation.

The vacation seemed healthier.

She made use of the hotel facilities, swimming each morning to keep the muscles she'd developed over the past few months in shape. She shopped, began a love-hate relationship with the Nautilus equipment in the health club, and generally fought off boredom.

It helped that Gabe had decided to give a pre-race party, using the hotel ballroom on the evening before the Belmont. It gave Kelsey the opportunity to plot out the details, talk strategy with the florist and the hotel caterer. Gabe, after one look at the yards of lists, took the coward's route, and left the entire matter in her hands.

Nothing could have pleased her more.

She spent hours with the hotel manager, the concierge, the chef, debating and dissecting what could and couldn't be done. As Gabe had put no ceiling on the budget, she had already decided there was nothing that couldn't be done, and set about convincing the staff.

"I'd have been smarter handing you a pitchfork and letting you clean out stalls all week." Gabe grabbed a quick cup of coffee and watched Kelsey pore over the final menu for the evening. "You'd have gotten more rest."

"Stop fussing. You're the one who started this."

"I thought a party would be a good idea." He moved over to stand behind her, rubbing her shoulders as she muttered over her papers. "A little food, some music, an open bar. I didn't realize I'd be backing a David O. Selznick production." He narrowed his eyes. " How much champagne is that?"

"Go away." But she rolled her shoulders under his hands. "You're not going to drink it anyway. You gave me carte blanche, Slater, and I'm using it. Just be in your tuxedo by eight."

"More like Captain Bligh than Selznick," he muttered.

"Now you sound like the caterer. Go meet your reporters."

"I'm sick of reporters."

"You're just jealous because they put Double on the cover of Sports Illustrated instead of you."

"I got the spread in People, " he reminded her, and entertained himself by nibbling on her ear. "This is a great spot right here," he murmured, nipping his way up her left lobe. "I could be temperamental and miss the interview."

The quick, delicious shivers distracted her. Gabe took advantage and had the first two buttons of her blouse undone before she shook herself free.

"Stop that! I have an appointment in fifteen minutes."

"I'll work fast."

"I mean it." Breathless, she squirmed away, scrambled out of the chair. "I'm getting my hair done."

He grinned. Just now it was tumbling out of the bright, cloth-covered elastic. He'd done that. "I like your hair exactly the way it is."

"Keep your distance, Slater. The rest of my day is booked, minute by minute, and I didn't schedule any time for you to chase me around the desk."

"Adjust."

"This may be just a party for you." As ridiculous as it was, she scooted so that the desk was between them. "But putting it together has kept me sane all week. I have an emotional investment."

"So do I." He put his palms down on the desk, leaned forward. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

"I've got something for you."

"Oh, please." She'd have rolled her eyes if she'd dared take them off him. "That's very lame."

He straightened, cocked a brow. "A present." He took a small velvet box out of his pocket. "Now aren't you ashamed?"

"A present?" Despite the instant flare of pleasure, she eyed it warily. "Is this a trick?"

"Open it. I was going to give it to you after the race, but I thought it would be better luck for you to have it before."

It lured her. She came around the desk to take it from him, then lifted her mouth to his for a kiss. "Thank you."

"You haven't opened it yet."

"For the thought first."

Her breath sighed out when she snapped the top open. The horse glowed against the black velvet, caught forever in mid-gallop, airborne and magnificent. The pin was fashioned of ruby jade, carved so intricately, so delicately that she almost expected to feel the bunch and flow of muscles as she ran a fingertip over it. The diamond eye glistened with triumph.

"It's beautiful. It's perfect." She looked up at him. "So are you."

"That was my line." He slipped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer. "You're welcome," he said as his mouth closed over hers.

Of course, she was late. Kelsey dashed into the beauty salon babbling apologies. She was checking her watch anxiously by the time the manicurist was trying to do something elegant with her neglected nails.

"Honey, why don't we go for some tips?"

"No, I'll just break them off." Her hair was bundled in huge foam rollers, her face coated with a pale green cream she'd somehow allowed herself to be talked into, and time was ticking away. "Just shape up what's there and slap on some clear polish."

"Don't you want something a little snazzier?"

Kelsey stole a peek at the manicurist's lethally long, carmine-slicked nails. "No, I'll stick with subtlety."

With a shake of her head, the woman dunked Kelsey's right hand in warm water. "Whatever you say, honey."

"It's Kelsey, isn't it?" A woman at the next station smiled at her. "I'm Janet Gardner. Overlook Farms, Kentucky?"

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Gardner." Kelsey decided not to say she hadn't recognized the woman, not with the flame-colored hair coated with glistening blue cream and her face plastered with shocking pink. "It's nice to see you again."

"A face-lift without the scalpel, they tell me." Janet laughed as she tapped a finger to the drying pink mask. "We'll see about that. Yours?"

"Oh, something about relaxing. Apparently I looked harried."

"Who doesn't by the Belmont? My Hank and I are going to sleep for two weeks when we get back home. We promised ourselves."

Kelsey remembered Hank now-the stringy man she'd danced with the night before. He'd had sun-scored cheeks, a pencil-thin mustache, and a voice as rich as molasses. He'd wanted to teach her to tango.

"Give your husband my best. He's a terrific dancer."

"Oh, that's my Hank." Janet chuckled and preened. "All the ladies want a turn around the floor with him.

He likes to tell people I married him for his feet."

Obliging the manicurist, Janet slipped off an emerald ring that could have doubled for a paperweight.

"I saw your mother today at the track. It's hard to believe we've been making the rounds together for ... Well, that would be telling."

"You've known Naomi a long time."

"Since I married into this horse race. Of course, she was born into it." Much more interested in gossiping than in the fashion magazine she'd been thumbing through with her free hand, Janet set it aside. Her eyes brightened with curiosity. "You were, too."

"Belatedly."

"Oh, I think it's more that you came back to it belatedly. I remember seeing you at the track when you were in diapers."

"Really?"

"Oh, goodness, yes. Naomi was prouder of you than of any wall full of blue ribbons. We used to call you Naomi's thoroughbred. But you wouldn't remember that."

Naomi's thoroughbred. The idea both pleased and saddened her. "No, I don't."

"I met your father once or twice. Poor dear, he always looked so lost. He was a librarian?"

"My father is the head of the English department at Georgetown University."

"Oh, yes," Janet bubbled on, oblivious of the stiffness in Kelsey's voice. Obligingly she dunked her fingers in the soaking bowl for her own manicure. "I knew it had something to do with books. Naomi doted on him. We all thought it was a shame things didn't work out. But then, it happens all the time, doesn't it?"

"According to the statistics."

"Hank and I are the lucky ones. Twenty-eight years this September."

"Congratulations." Since there was no escape, Kelsey tried a shift in topic. "You have children?"

"Three. Two boys and a girl. Our DeeDee's married now, and has two little girls of her own." If she'd had a hand free, Janet would have gone straight for the pictures in her wallet. "My boys tell me they're still looking. Of course, my youngest is barely twenty. He's studying structural engineering. Not that I know anything about that."

She went on about her children at some length until Kelsey relaxed into the rhythm.

"But there's something special between a mother and daughter," Janet said, cagily veering back. "Don't you think? I mean, even after all these years of separation, you and Naomi look so sweet together. To tell you the truth, it's been so long a lot of people forget she even had a daughter, if they knew in the first place."

Janet held up one hand, examined the first coat of mauve polish. "Yes, dear, that's very nice." When she shifted her attention back to Kelsey, her voice took on a confidential air. "I hope you won't be offended if I tell you that most of us who knew Naomi, and the situation, were rooting for her. I mean, the idea of taking a child from its mother just seems unnatural."

Well aware that both manicurists had their ears pricked, Kelsey kept her voice cool. "I'm sure Naomi appreciated it."

"Not that it did any good. I'm sorry to say she was her own worst enemy during that trying time. I've always thought it was anger at your father that made her behave so recklessly. And the social scene was a bit ... wilder back then. Still, Alec Bradley." She clucked her tongue. "Naomi should have known better than to flirt in that direction. Oh." As if she'd just remembered the outcome of that flirtation, Janet blinked and squirmed. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry. That would be a sore point."

The idea of a shooting death and a decade in prison being termed a sore point might have amused Kelsey under different circumstances. But she backtracked to the one statement that had caught her attention. "Did you know Alec Bradley?"

"Oh, yes. Most of us back then at least knew of him. He was drop-dead gorgeous, as my DeeDee would say. Tall, dark, and handsome, with a smile that could melt a woman's heart. He knew it, too.

Believe me, he knew it and he used it. He even fluttered around me a bit-but Hank put a stop to that."

She giggled girlishly. "I admit I was a little flattered, even knowing his reputation."

"What reputation was that?"

"Well, dear"-eagerly she scooted forward in her chair-"his family would barely acknowledge him.

They may have had some financial reversals, but the blood was still blue. And there was that scandal with his first wife." She hunkered still closer, assuming the gossip position. "He had a taste for older women, you know. Wealthy older women. Everyone knew his first wife settled on him generously in the divorce to save face. Not that it helped, really, because everyone knew he'd been, well, servicing the fillies, shall we say?"

"So, he was a womanizer."

"Oh, a champion. And the buzz was, he charged for the service."

"He-women paid him, for sex?"

Another giggle, slightly embarrassed. Janet preferred cagey euphemisms. "I don't know if it was quite that blunt, but it was common knowledge that he could be bought. As an escort. There are a lot of single women, even in racing. Unmarried, divorced, between husbands. Alec could be hired to fill the gap. A handsome arm to hold for a party, at the track. He was, as I said, quite charming. And he tended to bet heavily. And badly."

When she smiled, pink flakes cracked from her face and drifted onto her black-and-gold bib like colorful dandruff. "Now, no one thought it was a business deal between him and your mother, dear. A woman like Naomi could have had any man she wanted. Still could. Alec seemed quite besotted with her. Though he did continue to indulge in the side flirtations. Naomi wasn't one to put up with that sort of nonsense. They argued heatedly about that, and she gave him the boot."

This time Janet's flustering was quite genuine. "That is-I mean-"

"You were there that night." Not interested in evasions or a sudden attack of conscience, Kelsey pressed. "The night he died?"