They met up again as arranged the next morning. They were both on horseback. Rose looked as if she’d been working for some time when he followed her into the arena. At first glance, she seemed tense, though that could have been because she was thoroughly immersed in the training session and concentrating hard. Her eyes were the giveaway. They were still red from crying. He’d ask questions later. He’d slept at Cesar’s, sleep being a euphemism for tossing and turning, imagining exactly this—Rose, neat and tempting in the saddle. Sexual frustration was eating him alive. He sincerely hoped she hadn’t slept either. She was riding bareback with just a bridle to control Lucifer. Both rider and horse had noticed him entering the arena but paid him no attention. Lucifer was concentrating hard too. It was as if the horse wanted to please Rose. The stallion Dante was riding would normally send Lucifer loco, and Fuego was doing his best to disturb the lesson by putting on quite a show.
“That horse needs training,” Rose observed quietly as she cantered past.
“Don’t you like his fire?”
“I admire control more.”
“Do you?” He smiled.
She gave him an acid look as she came past again.
“Good job,” he murmured. “I’ve got another test for you,” he added when she eventually reined in.
“For me o
r for the horse?”
The same challenge was in her eyes, but she didn’t look away, as if daring him to comment on the fact she’d been crying. “Both of you,” he said. “We’re going swimming.”
Rose frowned. “There’s an Olympic-size swimming pool for us, and an equine pool for the horses. Which one did you have in mind?”
“The ocean.” When her eyes widened, he explained. “Lucifer hates swimming in the ocean, but it’s good for him. I want him to trust enough to enjoy it. If you can make him do that, I’ll back you in anything.”
“That’s quite an offer.”
“Do you accept?”
“I’m not dressed for swimming in the sea.”
“You wear underwear, don’t you?”
“That’s none of your business—”
He laughed, and even Rose had the good grace to smile at her remark.
“If you’re not wearing anything beneath your clothes, swim naked,” he advised. “All I care about is the horse. Your naked body is of absolutely no interest to me.”
He caught the brief, disappointed tightening of Rose’s lips before she said, “If you think it will help Lucifer, I’m happy to give it a go.”
~~o0o~~
You are such a liar, Rose thought as Dante’s black stare stripped her naked. He was interested in every woman with breath in her body. A man with a libido like his had to be constantly scouting for new avenues to explore. Well, hers was one avenue he wasn’t going to drive down—and her desperate body could butt out. She’d made up her mind. Her common sense had won through. She had more important things to worry about than Dante’s sexual needs.
“If you’re too tired,” he probed, taking advantage of her silence.
“I’m not too tired.” And I’m not going to tell you anything, she thought, until I’ve had a chance to mull over the problems in Ireland, though I can see you looking at my bleary eyes and wondering what’s wrong with me.
A brief flash of concern in Dante’s eyes surprised her. She hadn’t expected it, and it made her want to tell him everything. He was a soldier as well as a polo player, and as hard as tempered steel. If anyone could help, he could. But she had to sort out her own problems, Rose concluded as she patted Lucifer’s neck.
“He’ll love playing in the surf, won’t you, boy? And of course I’m happy to ride him.”
“In that case…shall we?” Backing his stallion up, Dante waited for her to leave the arena in front of him.
Every encounter with Dante was tense, Rose reflected as they left the yard. How could it not be, when, on her side at least, she felt sex snapping between them like an electric current? She couldn’t deny the tension excited her. It also warned her to remain professional—which wasn’t so hard when she had the prospect of riding Lucifer to the beach. She wasn’t quite so confident when it came to riding in her underwear in front of Dante. Her wet underwear. She was the last person on earth to volunteer to take part in a wet T-shirt contest. Having grown up with six brothers, she was modest to a fault.
I’m shy now?
No, she wasn’t shy. This was all part of the job.