‘Then, what are we waiting for?’ Danny pressed.
‘We have to have a game plan,’ Lizzie murmured thoughtfully.
‘Like we drug the players and hobble their horses,’ Danny suggested. And when Lizzie huffed a laugh, she added, ‘Before we get ourselves trounced on the field of battle, are you going to come with me to read that list, or not?’
* * *
‘Lizzie Fane, captain of the grooms’ team,’ Danny read out. ‘And I’m on the team too.’
Lizzie was stunned by her appointment as captain, but not so surprised about Danny. ‘Of course you are,’ Lizzie assured her friend. ‘You’re a great rider.’
‘When our taskmaster isn’t looking at me. I swear, that man only has to glance my way for me to fall off my horse.’
‘So long as you don’t fall at his feet.’
‘You like him, don’t you?’
‘Chico?’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘No. Not interested.’
Danny hummed in disbelief. ‘Well, whatever you think about him, our game would be a complete shambles without you. Tactics are where you excel, so we need you to put structure into the game—though speaking personally, I’ll be happy just to survive.’
Lizzie shook her head decisively. ‘Survival isn’t enough for me. I won’t be satisfied unless we win.’
‘And how are we going to do that? Drug the players, hobble the horses, and cancel the match?’
‘Confidence. I’ll work something out. And, in the meantime,’ Lizzie added as she scanned the list, ‘have you seen who else is playing against us?’
‘Let me guess.’ Danny’s cheeks pinked up. ‘Tiago?’
Lizzie confirmed this. ‘And someone called Lucas, alongside Gabe Ortoya, the Brazilian team captain, who just happens to be world champion at the moment.’
‘Great,’ Danny murmured. ‘Shall we give up now?’
‘No,’ Lizzie said thoughtfully. ‘Let’s call our first team meeting.’
* * *
The internationals rode bareback. Chico rode facing backwards at one point, until Lizzie had a word at the end of the chukka. How dared he patronise her, or her players? They could thrash him without the need for circus tricks on his part.
‘So you’ve found your voice at last, Senhorita Fane?’
Ignoring the shiver of arousal that streaked through her at the sight of Chico in full Gaucho polo rig, which meant he was wearing leather chaps over jeans worn thin in all the wrong places—or right, if she cared to look—along with a top that moulded his pumped-up muscles to perfection, she lifted her chin to give back as good as she got. ‘This isn’t a class, and I’m not your student on the field of play, Senhor Fernandez. We’re captaining opposing teams, and—’ And I don’t know how yet ‘—my team is going to thrash yours.’
‘So you say, Lizzie,’ Chico called after her as she cantered off in her matching ensemble of neatly pressed jeans and clean white polo shirt.
They were completely outplayed, but that was no reason to give up. Lizzie suggested a fair exchange at the end of the next chukka—two professionals in exchange for two from the grooms’ team. She sent her guys over to Chico’s side, selecting Tiago and the good-natured Gabe Ortoya to play on the side of the grooms. Now they had a game worth the name, and the match went down to the wire. It was five goals each when Lizzie snatched a ball from Chico—or maybe he allowed her to think she had—and she slammed it into the goal.
The competition was relentless, the dirty tricks endless—hooking sticks, riding the opponent off, hacking, stabbing, shouting, swearing—Gaucho polo at its best. This was the hottest sport known to man, Lizzie concluded as she watched Chico at full stretch. She had never felt so alive. A change of ends later, with adrenalin racing through her system, Lizzie passed the ball to Danny, but then for some reason—excitement, probably; catching sight of Chico bearing down on her at speed, certainly—she rashly turned towards the play instead of away from it, and managed to collide with Tiago and Gabe, and as her horse plummeted forward she shot over its head, and would have been trampled had it not been for an arm like an iron band snapping around her waist.
‘Acrobatics, Ms Fane?’ Chico’s hot minty breath brushed her cheek. ‘I’m impressed. No harm done,’ he confirmed when she looked at the pony.
The pony was probably in better shape than Lizzie, who was pinned tightly against Chico’s hard chest, and badly winded.
‘You need a fresh mount and then we’ll get on with the game,’ he said, showing her no mercy. He practically threw her onto the new pony. ‘Your team’s honour rests on you, Lizzie.’
That brief, hard blast of contact against Chico’s muscular body must have restored her, Lizzie concluded, throwing him a steely glance. He’d saved her life and she would thank him—she just hadn’t decided how, yet.
* * *
‘You are preparing for the party, aren’t you?’
Danny had just arrived in their room after the match. Lizzie was lying on the bed with her eyes closed, trying to shut out the adrenalin of the match, and her fierce urge to have sex with Chico. Without looking up, she knew Danny was staring around, hunting for some sign that Lizzie was secretly preparing for the party.
‘Don’t tell me you’re not coming?’
‘I’m not coming,’ Lizzie stated flatly. She was safer where she was. Sleeping with a man as ruthless as Chico Fernandez could only end badly. And she didn’t deserve a party after making such a stupid beginner’s mistake. It could have led to her pony being injured.
‘So, what are you going to do while we’re at the party enjoying ourselves?’
Lizzie threw an arm across her face. ‘Nothing, and then I’m going to check on the horses.’
‘Chico has hired some outside staff especially to do that, so think again, Cinderella.’
‘I have a letter to write to my grandmother.’ Lizzie had rung Annie, the housekeeper at Rottingdean, who had reassured her that her grandmother was doing well, and would be up and about in no time—which Lizzie took to be a euphemism for, ‘There’s nothing you can do here, so make a success of that course.’
‘Use email,’ Danny insisted, distracting her. ‘Just as effective and twice as fast.’
‘And half as personal,’ Lizzie argued.
‘You’ll miss out.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Okay, I want you to come to the party so we can celebrate together. You’re our captain, Lizzie. You can’t stay away. And if that doesn’t clinch the deal, I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly for stopping Chico throwing me out on my ear.’
‘You don’t need to thank me. You deserve your place here.’ Sitting up, Lizzie ruffled her hair. ‘You’re right. I should be celebrating with the team, not moping around.’
‘So, what are you going to wear?’
‘I’m going exactly as I am.’
‘In jeans?’
Lizzie’s answer was to run a hand through her hair. ‘Look—I even had my hair done.’
‘You could put on some make-up.’
‘And look as if I’m trying too hard?’ That was not what she wanted Chico to think.
‘All right, have it your way,’ Danny conceded. ‘Lip gloss, maybe?’
‘No.’
‘Eye shadow, or a spritz of scent?’
Danny got the same answer each time—and though she was fast, Lizzie was faster, and, leaping over the bed, she managed to dodge out of reach as Danny brandished a bottle of scent.
* * *
Lizzie looked amazing, and he had to thank Danny for getting her to come down to the party. But it wasn’t Danny who held his attention, but Lizzie, who was a real little Miss Prim in her smart jeans, clean shirt and trainers. He’d grown to like the look. It was sexy on Lizzie and made him want a repeat of their h
eated kiss, and to hell with the past. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were sparkling with laughter as the teams gathered round to tease her about her acrobatic performance on the polo field, and to congratulate her on leading the grooms’ team to a draw. She played this down. He liked that too. He liked her, though it suited him to remain aloof for now. They had a lot to talk about before he could relax the way he wanted to with Lizzie. He waited until Tiago put a glass of wine in front of her and then he made his move.
‘What are you doing?’ Lizzie demanded as he came to stand between Lizzie and the other polo player. ‘Tiago was just asking me about opportunities for polo players in the UK.’
‘I bet he was.’ Turning his back on Tiago, who had angled his chin to shoot him a wry look, he moved Lizzie’s glass of wine away.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded when he glanced at the bartender and the glass of wine was removed.
‘Saving you for the second time today.’
Lizzie’s green eyes flashed with affront. ‘I thought this was supposed to be a celebration.’