Back in the Brazilian's Bed

Karina’s head was spinning, but it was hard not to be optimistic when Maria ushered her into the most beautiful guest room. Light and bright, it was beautifully decorated in shades of ice blue and coral. If it hadn’t been for Dante and the history they shared, she would have been more thrilled than ever to be back on the pampas she loved, especially when Maria threw back the drapes to reveal a wide, deep balcony overlooking fields full of foals and their mothers. What more could she possibly want than this?

Answers?

Her life was what she’d made it, though it was impossible not to think about Dante and try to piece together the nuggets of information Nicky had shared. Did Dante take after his cold, self-serving father or after his mother, a woman who had cared enough to bring the orphaned child of her husband’s mistress into her home?

That was a question for another day, Karina concluded as Maria suggested that Nicky’s idea was a good one, and that tonight Karina might like to take supper in her room later.

‘I would. Thank you.’ She’d spend the rest of the day working on her laptop, then a hot, foamy bath beckoned, before food and bed. Something told her she would need her sleep, and that tomorrow would be soon enough to start piecing together the puzzle that was Dante Baracca.

* * *

She had barely finished her shower the next morning when she heard the clatter of hooves outside her open window. Grabbing a couple of towels, she covered herself and padded barefoot to the window. And shot back, seeing Dante on horseback. Her heart was racing, arguing with all the sensible plans she had made to be detached where he was concerned, and above all sensible. It didn’t matter that they had both grown up and moved on in ten years, or that Dante was now a client whose sole intention was to show her the facilities on his ranch. It was enough that he was out there, looking as sexy as sin, for her heart to pound ten to the dozen.

‘Hey, Karina!’

Firming her jaw, she stared out as if she saw a man who looked as rugged and sexy as Dante every day of the week. The impatient look he was giving her suggested that by sheer willpower alone he believed he could draw her down from the window and onto the saddle of the horse at his side. Let him stare. She’d just got out of the shower. Dante might have the turnaround capabilities of a holiday jet, but that didn’t mean she had to rush about. She would behave calmly and act professionally, as she always did.

‘Good morning. Can I help you?’ she asked politely.

‘I want you down here now.’

She flashed five fingers, indicating more time was required.

‘And I don’t have all day to waste,’ Dante growled threateningly.

His expression made her think one finger would have been enough.

Taking the full five minutes, she tied her hair back, and changed into breeches and shirt. She was neat, she was organised. She was ready.

For anything.

Which was probably just as well, as Dante had undergone the full gaucho transformation. His wild black hair was held back by a blood-red bandana and his gold earrings glinted in the sun. He was wearing well-worn, snug-fitting jeans beneath the battered leather chaps all the gauchos wore, and a tight-fitting black top emphasised his bunched and banded muscles. Could she blank her mind to that?

She could blank her mind, but her body had a will of its own, and her nipples rose to salute him when she joined Dante in the yard.

‘So you’re ready at last?’ Looking her up and down with a lazy smile, he handed over the reins of her horse.

She knew that look and gave him one back that said clearly, You’re wasting your time. She didn’t sleep with clients, however ‘honoured’ they might be. She never had. She didn’t sleep with anyone, come to that. How could she? Dante might be the most tempting piece of forbidden fruit around, but she had to think of him as the spoiled fruit the wasp had got to first. If she did that she’d be fine. It was that, or risk getting her heart broken all over again.

‘I take it you can still remember how?’

She looked at him as she checked her horse’s girth, and that look said it all. They both knew horses could hold air in their lungs when the strap beneath their belly was fastened, and then they let it out again once the rider was mounted, causing the saddle to slip dangerously. Guessing the type of ride she was about to have with Dante, she was going to take every safety precaution necessary. Springing into the saddle, she gave him a look. ‘I think I’ll keep up.’

Closing her eyes for a moment as she sucked in a lungful of sweet, clean air, she promised herself that nothing was going to spoil this for her. This was her first ride on the pampas for too long, and she was going to enjoy it to the full. She would learn everything she needed to about his ranch, and then she’d go home to plan the event, happy, single and sane.