Read Online Nightstorm and the Grand Slam by Stacy Gregg - Free Book Online

backing me are the ones paying for the horse. I don’t think Tulia will have any problem cashing her cheque.”
    All the same, Tulia pulled the cheque out of her pocket as he said this and looked at it rather anxiously. Issie ignored her.
    â€œOK, Oliver,” she said. “So you’ve bought the horse. Now what are you going to do with him?”
    Oliver smirked at her. “I should have thought that was pretty clear. We’re going to be competing him.”
    Issie gritted her teeth. “I meant who is going to be riding him?”
    Oliver Tucker’s mouth twisted up in a malevolent grin. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
    There were more footsteps behind Oliver Tucker, and a moment later a girl with glossy blonde hair, a deep orange tan and extremely purple jodhpurs appeared in the corridor.
    â€œDad!” she whined. “What’s taking so long? Let’s get the horse on the truck and go! Lance is waiting for me and I want to go to that party…”
    The blonde girl stopped talking when she caught sight of Issie standing next to her father.
    â€œIsadora,” Oliver Tucker said, “I believe you know Victory’s new rider? My daughter, Natasha Tucker.”

    While it was true that Oliver Tucker had kept a low profile since the Chevalier Point scandal, his daughter, Natasha, had done just the opposite. In fact, you would have needed to be living in a cave to avoid the stories about the bratty blonde.
    In England, Natasha had quickly become a fixture on the posh party circuit with all the other young, spoilt and bored children of the rich and famous. It was at a party at the house of a pop star (or at least that’s what the newspapers reported in the gossip pages) that Natasha met her new boyfriend, the famous footballer Lance Emmanuel.
    A pasty-faced, thuggish lad, Lance was a gifted striker on a multi-million-pound contract with Chelsea.
    As soon as she started dating Lance, paparazzi beganfollowing Natasha in the streets and hiding in the bushes outside the Tuckers’ Surrey mansion.
    Seizing the opportunity for fame, in a transformation that put Posh Spice and Cheryl Cole to shame, Natasha quickly added extensions to her already-long blonde hair, bought herself a lifetime ticket to ‘Mahogany’s Tanning Parlour’ and promptly found herself a celebrity agent.
    She began to develop a trademark fashion sense and whenever she left the house she was dressed in some bizarre concoction of Ugg boots and skimpy, fluffy purple clothing. She was constantly being photographed for the gossip pages that raved about her ‘exotic style’.
    Issie had laughed when she had read an interview with Natasha in the Daily Mail in which she had claimed that she had been a riding star back in her home country of New Zealand.
    â€œLance isn’t the only one with sporting talent, you know,” Natasha had told the reporter. “I’ve got my sights set on riding at the Olympics. All I need to do is find me the right horse.”
    At the time, Issie had thought that the comment was yet more typical pointless boasting. Even back at ponyclub Natasha had always made ridiculous claims that totally overstated her riding ability.
    Now, of course, Issie realised that Natasha really did have plans to relaunch her riding career. She’d just been looking for the right horse. And now she had found him.
    As the Badminton House groom entered the loose box to put the halter on Victory and lead him away, Natasha pushed her way past him.
    â€œOi!” she told the groom off. “I don’t want that ugly halter!” She gestured in disgust at the elegant Kieffer leather halter that the groom had been about to slip over Victory’s head.
    Natasha reached into the glittery tote bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out her own halter instead. It was bright purple nylon with Swarovski crystals all over it and lilac hearts embroidered across the