She smiled. ‘I do. Thank you,’ she said quietly, tucking it away in her pocket.
The silence changed and suddenly she felt awkward. Should they kiss on the cheek or shake hands—or neither of the above? She decided to maintain the honoured client routine and shook his hand briefly. That seemed to amuse him, though he overruled the smile and turned his expression to neutral.
She had her hand on the handle on the door when he said, ‘You’re okay, Karina. You can do this. You don’t need anyone now.’
She turned to flash him a quick smile, and tried to pretend that what he’d said was okay. In many ways it was, but it left her uncertain where Dante’s feelings for her were concerned.
Maybe that was a good thing?
No, it wasn’t.
She drew herself up to tell him, ‘I’ll be back for the match.’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you sure I can keep this?’ She felt for the stone in her pocket.
‘That’s what keepsake means,’ he said. ‘Take it as a reminder of your time here, and all the things we’ve done together.’
Together. She’d take that word and seal it in her heart.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KARINA WAS SO busy when she got back to Rio that her head was spinning. That didn’t stop her feelings for Dante keeping her awake at night. They’d put in so much good work on his ranch that everything was falling into place. They worked well together, she reflected as she glanced at his incoming email. She longed to find something personal in them and never did. She still read his new email avidly, as if she were a code-breaker, searching for clues.
After-match party: You know what I expect. Make it the best. Budget no object. D
Elephants? Dancing girls?
She smiled as she shook her head. Dante didn’t waste words. Fortunately, she knew what exactly he wanted—carnival, big and brash and bold. And because the honoured client always got what he asked for, carnival was exactly what he was going to get.
* * *
The big day of the cup had finally arrived. Dante had hardly had chance to draw breath since Karina had left him at the ranch. His pulse banged as he thought of seeing her again, blood rushing to a part of him that thought about her constantly—inconvenient when he was on a horse. He shifted in the saddle and shouldered his mallet. Nothing had ever mattered to him more than polo. The team had been his family for as long as he could remember. It was his source of warmth and friendship, but now there was another vital element missing in his life—so where the hell was she?
Karina was glad of her VIP pass and doubted she’d make it through the crowds in time without it. Dante’s vision was a reality. Carnival in Rio had been transferred to his ranch, and the world was going crazy for it. He was well on track to fulfilling his wish that polo became a popular sport, rather than an elitist game for the fortunate few. She had done everything she could think of to make that possible.
Outside the stadium there were high-quality food outlets, sideshows and a fairground boasting a big wheel, among other rides. There were samba dancers clothed in feathers and sequins performing on the stage, where popular bands were due to take over in the evening. Some of the best musicians in Brazil had offered to give a free concert to raise money for the charities the teams supported, and there was an information pavilion showing all that was best about Brazil.
Everywhere she went people seemed to be dancing and smiling, confirming her impression that the project was a success. Dante was having some quiet time, she’d been told. He’d been away with the team at a secret location, preparing for the match. No one could tell her where he was as the minutes ticked away towards the start, but she had an idea where he might be.
* * *
The ranch house door was on the latch, so she let herself in and quietly closed it behind her. ‘Don’t stop playing,’ she whispered, as he paused in mid-phrase.
Dipping his head in concentration, he started playing again. It drew her across the hall towards him like a magnet. She stopped and smiled. He was such an incongruous sight. Dressed for the match in breeches and a snug-fitting top in his team colours, she doubted there had ever been such a brutal display of muscle and power, and yet the sensitivity in his fingers allowed him to create the most beautiful music. It soothed her like a balm, while he excited her beyond reason.
When the last chord echoed around the hall she stilled, waiting to see what he would do. She had turned away from him to look at a painting as he’d played, and when he walked up behind her she didn’t turned around. She remained staring at the same image of the ranch painted just as it had been when he had taken it over. It was a stark reminder of how far he’d come. She had chosen that same image for the back of today’s programme, with the most recent image on the front.