All those years she’d dreamed about him, without making allowances for the man he would become. In her mind, Dante had remained the dangerously attractive youth who hovered unseen, and yet so forcibly present, over every relationship she’d ever had. How was she supposed to have a successful love life with Dante Acosta as her template?
That kiss hadn’t stopped him when it came to relationships.
No. Far from it. Following Dante’s career meant following a great many stories of his private life, which ran alongside his success, both in polo and the tech world. While she applauded his many triumphs, she was forced to see him dating, and that cut deep.
It still did.
It hadn’t damaged the connection between them. That was real and strong, at least on Jess’s part, but did Dante feel it too? He was impossible to read. Even blazingly alive in front of her rather than haunting her mind, Dante was as intangible as he had ever been.
Could there ever be anything between them?
‘Look at the state of me,’ she murmured as Moon nuzzled her neck. ‘Does that seem likely when women across the world are hammering on Dante’s door? Why waste my life on pointless dreaming?’
‘So here you are—’
She jumped at the sound of Dante’s voice.
‘I knew I’d find you with the ponies.’
Her swift intake of breath must have betrayed the fact she’d been thinking about him. If that wasn’t enough, her cheeks were blazing and her lips felt swollen, while her breasts were aching for his touch.
Dante appeared totally unaffected. Ditching his cane to come into the stall, he lounged back against the wall to inform her, ‘Look, no stick. I’m cured. You can go home now.’
‘By parachute?’ she suggested.
He laughed, a flash of strong white teeth against his dark, swarthy face, which was the cue for heat to rush through her. If there was one thing more dangerous than a grim-faced Dante Acosta, it was this version. She couldn’t resist this one at all.
She must, Jess reminded herself. Professionalism was paramount. ‘It’s too soon to discard your stick,’ she observed. ‘I’ve already warned you that you’ll suffer tomorrow if you put too much stress on that leg. You could pay the price with a setback.’
Dante’s answer was an easy shrug. ‘Relax. I left my cane outside to avoid spooking Moon.’
‘And you delight in teasing me. Don’t forget that.’
Dante almost turned serious. ‘I delight in the improvement I can feel in my leg. You can claim a miracle if you like.’
‘I prefer to work steadily until I’m sure that any improvement is lasting. I don’t throw up my hands and cheer at the first sign of change.’
‘Tell me, how do you remain so controlled?’
‘It counters your teasing,’ she said honestly. ‘As for miracles? All I see in your future is more therapy, hard work and pain.’
‘Sounds irresistible.’
‘I thought you’d prefer to hear the truth.’
‘Did you?’
The look he gave her now made Jess’s cheeks flare bright red, while her body responded with far too much enthusiasm. ‘I take it you’re here to see Moon?’ she said in an attempt to distract both of them from the mounting tension.
‘I’m here to see you also.’
‘Oh?’
‘There’s something I forgot to say to you.’
‘You’re fired?’ she suggested dryly.
‘Now, why would I do that when I think we’re making progress?’ Dante viewed her steadily. ‘Small steps,’ he explained.
Was he still referring to his leg? ‘Small steps,’ she agreed.
‘Truce?’
She tensed as he pulled away from the wall. As he came closer and his heat wrapped around her, Dante’s energy pervaded the atmosphere.
‘I just want to say thank you,’ he soothed.
He dipped forward to brush a kiss against her cheek, but she turned her head at entirely the wrong moment and their lips met. It seemed like for ever, though it could have been no more than a heartbeat, that she didn’t move, breathe or register anything apart from the fact that Dante was kissing her and seemed in no hurry to move away.
‘You okay?’ he prompted, pulling back.
The penny dropped. No wonder he was frowning. In Dante’s sophisticated world kisses were exchanged as easily as handshakes. ‘Of course I’m okay.’ She shrugged as if men like Dante Acosta kissed her every day of the week, when what she really wanted was for him to kiss her as if he really, really meant it. ‘There’s no need to thank me. It’s my job.’
‘You’re very good at your job,’ he observed in a tone that bore out every thought she had about the meaning of that kiss. There was no meaning beyond Thank you.
‘And now it’s time to strap in for landing,’ he added briskly.
You can say that again, Jess thought, curbing misplaced amusement as Dante’s dark stare lingered on her face.
‘Now?’ he prompted. ‘We’ll be touching down in a few minutes.’
His wake-up call was badly needed. She wasn’t his type. If his perfunctory kiss hadn’t proved it, any magazine in the world would show that Dante went for glamorous women, more at home on the front row of a high fashion show than the back row of the stalls.
Heading off to find a seat to strap into, she was surprised when Dante did the same. She’d already decided to stay on the deck with the horses so she was ready to help the grooms as soon as the plane landed. ‘Why don’t you strap in upstairs?’ she suggested to Dante. ‘We can manage here, and if you don’t rest after treatment you’ll never get better.’
‘If you don’t learn that I don’t accept orders you and I are in for a bumpy ride,’ he shot back.
Pressing her lips together so she didn’t say something she might regret, Jess reflected tensely, You don’t frighten me, Dante Acosta, and, whether you like it or not, for the duration of your treatment I’m in charge.
* * *
With the horses safely arrived in Spain and loaded into transporters waiting on the tarmac, it was Jess’s turn to climb into Dante’s flatbed alongside.
Flinging his cane into the back, Dante hauled himself into the driving seat beside her. ‘You’ll be in pain for some time yet,’ she explained when he grimaced and paused to knead a cramped muscle. ‘I dare say I’ve woken up nerve endings you’d forgotten about.’
‘No chance of that now,’ he agreed grimly. ‘How long must I suffer cramp?’
‘Until you’re cured.’
‘Then you’d better get on with it.’
‘I intend to.’
As Dante shook his head with exasperation, Jess knew she was dealing with a warrior, a man who had thought himself invincible until the accident.
‘You’d better make sure I’m ready for the new polo season,’ he threatened, grimacing.
‘I’d be lying if I said I could guarantee that. It’s largely up to you, and how seriously you take my treatment plan.’
‘Do you have to be so honest?’
‘Always.’
‘I can hire a therapist any day of the week.’
‘Then go ahead and do so, though I can’t imagine you’ll have many takers if that expression settles on your face.’
‘Ha! And what about the ponies? Or have you forgotten about them?’
‘I’ve forgotten nothing,’ she fired back. ‘I’ll stay on your estancia until they’re settled, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep me on as your therapist. Go ahead and hire someone else.’ At least I wouldn’t have to tolerate you as a patient, she thought, though deep down she knew it was the frustration of Dante’s injury driving him to lash out at her. Better he did that than he took it out on someone who didn’t understand him. ‘I’m here to help and until you fire me that’s what I’m going to do.’
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