The Vasquez Baby
His smile deepened. ‘Kitchen? If that’s what you think then you obviously haven’t yet deciphered the workings of the average male mind here in South America.’
That smile connected straight to her nerve endings and she was infuriated with herself for being so susceptible to his charm and masculinity.
‘The average male mind is of absolutely no interest to me,’ she said sweetly, ‘unless the mind belongs to a horse.’
‘Is that what brought you to Argentina? Our horses?’
Faith glanced around her, at the endless sweep of grassland that surrounded them. ‘I came because I read about Raul Vásquez.’
The man stilled. ‘You travelled thousands of miles to meet Raul Vásquez?’ There was a coolness to his tone that had been absent before. ‘You are hoping to catch yourself a billionaire, perhaps?’
Faith gazed at him in astonishment and then burst out laughing. ‘No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Billionaire polo-patrons aren’t exactly my style, and anyway, I’ve never even met the man. He’s off in the States at the moment, negotiating some high-flying deal or other and he employs thousands of people. I don’t expect our paths are ever going to cross.’
He studied her with disturbing intensity. ‘And that would disappoint you?’
‘You misunderstand me. I’m not interested in the man, but I am interested in his polo estancia. That’s why I’m here. Raul Vásquez breeds horses and trains them and his vet facilities are the best in the world. I read a paper in a journal written by Eduardo, his chief vet. I contacted him. Landing a job here is my dream come true.’
‘Eduardo employed you?’ That statement was greeted by incredulous silence. ‘You’re a vet?’
‘Yes, I’m a vet.’ Watching the frank astonishment in his eyes, Faith gritted her teeth. ‘Welcome to the twenty-first century. Women do become vets, you know. Some of us can even walk and talk at the same time, although news of that accomplishment clearly hasn’t yet reached South America.’
‘I’m aware that some women become vets,’ he said smoothly, ‘But this is a busy, commercial stud-farm, not some small-animal practice in the city.’
‘I wasn’t interested in a small-animal practice. For me it’s always been about horses.’
His gaze slid to her arms and lingered. ‘I don’t doubt your commitment or your enthusiasm, but sometimes physical strength is required, especially out here in the pampas where we deal with powerful stallions and hormonal mares.’
Her heart rate suddenly doubled. ‘Here we go again. You think it’s all about muscle, aggression and domination, but what you need to realise is that there’s more to horsemanship than brute strength. And Raul Vásquez understands that. He has some revolutionary tr
aining methods.’
‘I’m fully aware of his training methods. Answer me one question…’ His tone was soft and deadly and his gaze returned to her face. ‘Who was in charge when you were galloping across the pampas with the wind in your hair? You or the horse?’
‘Oh, the horse,’ Faith admitted, her eyes sparkling with humour. ‘But brute force wouldn’t have changed that fact.’
‘He needs to be ridden by a man. A man with sufficient skill and strength to control him.’
Faith came back at him instantly. ‘He needs to be understood. If you want to change behaviour, then you have to first try and understand the reason behind that behaviour. Horses do things for a reason, just like humans.’
She’d spent her life studying and all her spare time around horses. No man had ever captured her attention.
Until now.
His confidence and sophistication tied her in knots and she felt horribly self-conscious and more than a little confused by her own reaction.
She would never in a million years have described herself as shy, but suddenly she was agonisingly aware of her own naivety when it came to men like him.
‘I’d better be going. I have to ride back and…’ Her voice tailed off and she wondered whether he was going to stop her.
But he didn’t.
He let his hand drop from Fuego’s bridle and stepped away. ‘Ride carefully,’ he said softly and she gave a puzzled smile because she’d been so, so sure that he was going to stop her or at least suggest that they meet again.
And she’d wanted him to.
She’d really wanted him to.
The Vásquez Polo Cup was an important annual part of the Argentine polo circuit and it was the most glittering, glamorous affair Faith had ever attended.