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had just jumped. Katrina glared pure hate at Courtney, then stalked off.

      ‘She’s gone,’ Courtney whispered, smiling satisfaction to herself.

      ‘I’m not sure if I should be angry with you, or grateful,’ Jack muttered drily, but without shifting his eyes away from the binoculars.

      ‘Grateful would be the more sensible option.’

      ‘I presume Lois told you about Katrina.’

      ‘Only the bare facts. I asked her if you were rich and she told me of your own recent money troubles, which led on to her mentioning Katrina’s defection to George.’

      ‘Ah… I see… Yes… That explains everything.’

      He fell silent then, seemingly intent on the race. It was only a sprint and the runners were already approaching the turn into the straight, with three of them vying for the lead and another pair hot on their heels. It looked like being an exciting finish.

      Yet, for the first time during the running of a horse race, Courtney found her mind wandering away from the action.

      A couple of things had begun puzzling her. She could understand why Jack hadn’t quite got over Katrina yet. After all, he was the one who’d been dumped. And the woman was simply stunning to look at. Courtney suspected she was hot stuff in bed as well.

      But Katrina’s jealousy on seeing Jack with another female seemed over the top. What on earth had she expected? That a man like him would never turn his eye elsewhere? Had she imagined for a moment that she was irreplaceable in Jack’s life, that her betrayal would turn him into an embittered celibate?

      The idea was laughable. The woman had to have a screw loose.

      Unfortunately, it did seem as if Jack hadn’t turned his eye elsewhere as yet. He’d come here today alone, hadn’t he? She was just a pretend girlfriend.

      ‘You’re far better off without her, you know,’ she announced with pragmatic logic just as the horses flashed past the post. ‘If she didn’t love you poor, then she didn’t love you at all, did she?’

      Jack lowered his binoculars and gave her a long, hard look. ‘I know you meant well in doing what you just did, Courtney. And in a way I’m grateful to you. But you really don’t know what you’re talking about where Katrina and I are concerned. Neither does Lois. She…oh, oh, talk of the devil. Lois is about to descend upon us. Now, for pity’s sake, don’t relay to her anything that just happened. And you can drop the besotted girlfriend bit. Katrina and co have left the bar.’

      Courtney pulled a face. ‘Pity. I was rather enjoying myself. What about when Big Brutus wins? Shouldn’t I revive the role, at least for the presentation?’

      ‘Let’s wait till the horse actually wins, shall we?’ Jack stated drily. ‘Hi, there, Lois. Time for a glass of champers?’

      CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘SO WHAT do you think, Courtney?’ Jack asked ten minutes before the main race. ‘Will Big Brutus win, or not?’

      They were standing by the parade ring, watching the grooms leading their charges around in circles. Lois was standing in the grassed centre, giving her hoop last-minute instructions and suddenly looking very much the professional horsetrainer she was.

      ‘Come on,’ Jack persisted. ‘You’re the horse expert here. Give me your expert advice.’

      Courtney had to admit she was impressed by Big Brutus’s appearance this time in. He was beginning to look like the classy thoroughbred his breeding indicated, most of his earlier ugly angles filled in with hard muscle.

      And there was that superior look in his eye which often denoted a good racehorse. Her mother had always had faith in Big Brutus and her mother had been no mean judge of horseflesh.

      ‘He certainly looks the goods today,’ she said. ‘Worth a bet at the odds.’ He was twelve to one.

      ‘Mmm.’ Jack reached for his wallet. ‘Each way?’

      ‘Betting each way is for little old ladies,’ she scorned. ‘Better to put your money straight out on two horses than wimp out on one.’

      ‘Heaven help any man who looked a wimp in front of you!’ he returned, smiling wryly. ‘Straight out it will be, then. Stay where you are. I’ll be back shortly.’

      Courtney watched him counting out a lot of notes as he hurried off. She hoped he wasn’t going to put too much money on Big Brutus’s nose. He probably couldn’t afford it. Besides, her record of tipping winners wasn’t all that great. Too biased, most of the time.

      Strangely, she wasn’t much of a gambler herself. Her thrill whenever a Crosswinds-bred horse raced was just as great with or without a bet on it. She didn’t need any extra adrenaline charge. Her excitement level was already at its zenith, just watching one of their horses run around. To see it win was the ultimate joy.

      Her heart contracted at this last thought. If only her mum could have been here today. She loved it when one of her horses won.

      Though in this instance it was a case of if, not when.

      ‘If you’re watching from up there, Mum,’ she murmured under her breath with an upward glance into the clear blue sky, ‘then ask the Lord for a little help. No, a lot of help. This is Big Brutus here. As you know, the best he’s finished so far is second. In a maiden!’

      The reality of Big Brutus’s past form hit home and Courtney sighed. Lois really shouldn’t build people’s hopes up.

      By the time Jack returned to lead her up into the stand to watch the race, Big Brutus’ price had tumbled to an alarming six to one.

      ‘My God, how much money did you put on?’ she questioned as they squeezed into a spot in the stands not too far from the winning post.

      ‘Nothing I can’t afford,’ he returned calmly.

      ‘Yeah, right. And if Big Brutus doesn’t win? I’ll bet come Monday you’ll be heading for the dole queue.’

      ‘But you said he would win.’

      ‘I said no such thing!’ she protested. ‘I said he looked well. If you want to lose the rest of your savings on a stupid horse race, then that’s your problem. I didn’t twist your arm.’

      ‘True,’ he said with a smile.

      He wouldn’t be looking so cool when Big Brutus ran down the track, Courtney thought angrily. Men! Egotistical fools, the lot of them!

      Despite her dismissal of any personal responsibility for Jack’s bet, Courtney’s stomach began churning and chundering like an old washing machine stuck on the spin cycle.

      ‘They’re off!’ she shouted simultaneously with the course commentator, every muscle in her body tightening.

      It wasn’t a big field. Only ten starters. But when Big Brutus settled down at the tail soon after the start, Courtney had to stifle a groan of dismay. As much as she kept telling herself this was Randwick, where horses could come from behind once they topped the rise into the straight, Big Brutus’s record in races up till now didn’t help. He was a good stayer, all right. He usually stayed at the back of the field.

      By the time they reached the back straight, with half the race already over, Big Brutus was still running last. Admittedly, the front runners were setting a brisk pace, which meant they might tire, and Big Brutus did look as if he was just jogging.

      ‘Get a move on, you ugly old brute!’ she burst out at long last.

      ‘You talking about the horse or the jockey?’ Jack quipped drily out of the side of his mouth.

      She threw him a vicious glance, warning him that any smart alec chit-chat was not a good idea at this stage of proceedings. But he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were glued to his binoculars.

      ‘Move

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