“Oh my goodness.” Sandra, a friend of my mother’s, looked me up and down. “You look so beautiful.”
I knew these people complimented everyone in here like that, as if the money in the bank account decided who was beautiful and who wasn’t.
“Thank you.” I kept smiling.
She looped her arm with mine. “Megan is here. She’ll be happy to see you.” She tugged me forward and I glanced at Eric. He smiled, encouraging me to go mingle, and let go of my hand. I let the woman lead me wherever she wanted. “How is Joyce?” she asked.
“Mother is good. She should be here tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s great. I need to talk to her about our latest trip, and the one we’re going on next month.”
We stepped onto one of the porches, where several tables with white linen and silver plates and high-back chairs took over the place, overlooking the tennis courts.
Sandra led me to her daughter. Megan was seated at a table close to the ledge with Blaire and Andrea.
“Hannah!” Megan said, standing up to greet me. She hugged me tight. “Ohmygosh, it’s so good to see you.”
Growing up, Megan had been my best friend. It was right before our debutante ball, the one I was forced to attend, that I noticed we were too different. We didn’t like the same things; we didn’t do the same things. With time, we grew apart, especially after I started dating Eric and spent all my free time with him.
“You too,” I said.
As we sat down, her mother leaned against the rail, and looked over at the courts.
After greeting Blaire and Andrea, who I wasn’t too close with, we ordered tea as the conversation continued. They talked about shoes and the latest Roberto Cavalli creations. I spoke a bit here and there, though I would have preferred talking about Country Outfitter instead. Suddenly, the subject changed to trips. Carmel, Aspen, Paris, Rome, and other fancy places.
And I was bored.
My gaze drifted from side to side, and I noticed Sandra had left, but I wasn’t really looking for anything.
Until I found him.
The first thought on my mind was, what the heck was he doing here? The second, damn, he looked good. The third, I shouldn’t be thinking that.
Dressed completely inappropriate for a polo club—in jeans, a blue T-shirt, and cowboy boots—Leo walked up the path to the right of the tennis courts, flanked by three guys and a girl. They talked animatedly, smiling and touching each other’s arms or shoulders occasionally. A few feet behind them, a couple holding hands followed. By their similarities, I would bet they were all related.
The girls kept talking and giggling about whatever, but their voices were a buzz in my ears as I strained to catch anything, any word, from Leo and the ones with them. They were too distant, and even the few words I heard were spoken in fast Portuguese.
A few steps from the main house, Leo looked at the courts, following the game closest to him for a couple of seconds, before his gaze continued on.
Until he found me.
His eyes wide, Leo stopped in his tracks, and the man behind him bumped into him.
“Hey,” the man said, taking off his baseball cap and sunglasses. He looked familiar, somehow.
“Why is that guy staring at our table?” Megan asked, giggling.
I averted my eyes and pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“What guy?” Blaire asked, turning in her chair. “Oh, he’s cute. All four of them are.”
“Look at them,” Andrea said. I didn’t, but from her eyes, I noticed they were moving again. “They must be the team playing against the Knight House.”
I knew Eric was going to play against an international team, but in all his dealings with France, it never occurred to me the team could be from somewhere else.
Could it be? Eric was playing against Leo? And why did I care? Leo was nobody.
“Oh yeah,” Megan said. “Ohmygosh, I’ve seen one of them here before. He was an exchange player, with a team from Florida.”
Really? So that was why one of them looked familiar. Or it could be because they all looked like each other, and I’d taken my time observing Leo the other day. The urge to peek in his direction was strong, but I avoided it at all costs.
“True,” Blaire said with a big smile. “What’s his name again? Oh, Ricardo Fernandes. He was swoon worthy. I bet he still is.”
The girls giggled, and I forced a smile so they didn’t notice how disturbed I was.
“Maybe we should go welcome them to the club,” Megan suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. Then she patted my hand. “Lucky you. Practically married to a gorgeous man while we have to chase potential dates around here.”
I was lucky, wasn’t I? Eric was handsome, educated, generous, kind, and a great polo player. He was a little too jealous for my taste, but I reminded myself that was because he loved me so much. What else could I need?
Andrea stood. “I like this idea.”
Blaire shot up beside her. “Maybe not welcome them, but, you know, hang in the lobby with them, until they notice us and come talk.”
“Oh, great idea,” Megan said, joining the others. She looked down at me. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Oh no. Being practically married, I’ll mess up your plans.” I hoped she didn’t notice the sarcasm in my tone. “I’ll stay here for a little bit and finish my tea.”
“Okay. See you later,” Megan said.
Looking like teenagers, they disappeared into the main house and I relaxed, letting my shoulders sag and my back slide down in my chair. My pretty summer dress would get all wrinkled, but who cared?
Not long ago, I lived my perfect life as a Taylor heiress: just going to college, loving my boyfriend, and attending his games. Then it all changed when my grandma died, and I tried to figure out how to juggle college, the ranch, and learn about my father’s business, as well as enjoy my boyfriend’s success.
As if that wasn’t enough, more trouble found me, and everything changed a second time. A broken horse had been thrown into my arms, and some guy came strutting into my life and messed with my feelings. It was too much of a coincidence meeting him on the road and having him move in next door. And now he would be playing at Eric’s club.
I hoped he would go back to Brazil soon.
***
“There you are,” Eric said as soon as I stepped out of the restroom.
After finishing my tea and still feeling jittery, I needed to splash some cold water on my face. It helped calm me down a little. The problem was having to apply makeup all over again.
“Sorry, I was retouching.” I showed him the lipstick still in my hand, and notice he was wearing his uniform: a white and red polo shirt, white pants, and brown boots.
He took the lipstick, put it inside my purse, and entwined his fingers with mine, pulling me close. “It’s almost time,” he whispered against my mouth. “And I’ll need my good luck kiss before the game.”
I smiled, trying to shut down the thoughts that Leo would be at the field, watching, and the fact that it bothered me.
Eric planted a light kiss on my lips before pulling me out of the main house.
The clouds were gone, and the sun warmed us as we strolled down the path to the field. Instead of leading me to where Megan and company were seated on large chairs to the right side of the field, Eric took me to the left, where his teammates stood with their horses, waiting for the game to start.
The guys greeted me, polite as always. They knew how jealous Eric could be, and tried to keep their distance from me. It was odd, the way they avoided looking at me, even when I was right in front of them or talking to them.
Eric looked over my shoulder and tensed.
I didn’t have to look to know who approached, but it was hard not to.
Willing my face to appear nonchalant, I let my gaze wander to the forthcoming group. Leo and his teammates pulled their horses to the field. The name of their team, Montenegro, was written in white on thei
r dark blue polo shirts. White pants and black boots completed the rest of their uniform. The older couple and the girl were with them.
Leo’s eyes met mine.
A horse neighed and I jumped, noticing I’d been staring.
Focusing my attention on the small white mark on the pony’s forehead, I patted his muzzle.
“This will be easy,” David said, mounting his horse.
“As usual,” said Justin.
Eric nodded. “Boys, we’re not supposed to gloat. Not before the game anyway.” The men laughed at his joke. “Besides, this is an exhibition. We’re here to have fun.”
“As if that would make you any less competitive,” Tomas said.
“True.” Eric grinned before turning to me. His arms encircled my waist, and he pulled me to him.
“Good luck,” I whispered, before kissing his cheek.
Not satisfied with his good luck kiss, Eric placed a hand on my nape and guided my mouth to his. He held me there, pressed tight against him, as his tongue invaded my mouth, demanding and provocative, as usual.
Finally, he let me go. Dizzy, I stumbled back as he mounted his horse, a big grin stamped on his features.
I turned away, but not before glancing up and seeing Leo frowning at me. Heat took over my cheeks, and I didn’t understand exactly why. Eric always kissed me before each game. Why did I feel embarrassed about it this time? Of course, I knew the answer but I wouldn’t admit it.
I walked down the path leading to the other side of the field, and sat beside Megan and her friends.
She smiled at me, a genuine and rare smile. “I envy the way Eric idolizes you. It’s so romantic. I want to find a man who looks at me that way. Actually, if I found a man who looks at me half the way Eric looks at you, I’d be in heaven.”
The game started, saving me from commenting.
Eric didn’t go easy. He never did. Two seconds in and he had the ball, his pony weaving away from the others, and his mallet pushing the ball forward.
Then, fifteen seconds in, Leo brought his pony across Eric’s, swung his mallet right in front of the horse’s nose, and stole the ball.
It took Eric another ten seconds to recover from the shock and go after Leo and his teammates.
“They’re good,” a man standing behind us said.
“I heard they are the best in South America,” another one said.
If that were true, why had I never seen their team up here? After the girls mentioned it, I remembered seeing Ricardo at a couple of tournaments during the last two years. But what about the others? They hadn’t just started playing last week and then came here, to the most prestigious polo club in the country, for an exhibition game with the best polo team in North America. Usually, players became professional around eighteen.
“Yes, they are,” a third man said. “Did you know three of them are brothers? Ricardo, Pedro, and Leonardo. The fourth one, Guilherme, is their cousin.”
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“It gets more interesting,” the man continued. “Their father is the coach. His name is João Pedro Fernandes. During his younger years, he was the best polo player in the world.”
“And I take it the woman standing beside him is his wife?”
“Precisely. And the young girl is Beatriz, twin of Leonardo.”
“Oh.”
“They own a big ranch in Brazil. They breed polo ponies, have a polo school, and polo teams by levels.”
“This family is something.”
At that moment, Leo weaved out of Eric’s way and scored the first goal. The crowd cheered, even the ones I knew were die-hard fans of the Knight House.
“They sure are,” the man said.
Leo pulled the reins of his horse, making him turn to the center of the field. His face angled toward the crowd, but with the dark goggles on, I couldn’t make out where exactly he was looking. However, I could feel his heavy green-blue gaze on me, and that weight pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“I need some water,” I said, standing up.
Megan’s hand clasped gently around my wrist. “Where are you going? Ask a waiter.”
“No, it’s okay. I need to go to the restroom too,” I lied, then dashed away before she could question me further.
I weaved my way out of the crowd watching the game, and plopped down on a barstool.
“Sparkling water, please,” I told the bartender.
“Oi.”
I turned to the voice carrying a lyrical accent and found a girl smiling at me. She had the same green-blue eyes as her brother, and the same light brown hair, though hers was long and full with waves. Her skin was not as tanned as Leo’s, and she wasn’t as tall.
She sat on the stool beside mine. “I’m Beatriz.”
“I know.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You do?”
The waiter handed me my water, and Beatriz ordered an ice tea.
“Well, the men were talking about your brothers’ team and someone mentioned your name.”
She smiled. Damn, she was pretty. “Ah, sim. Ugh, horny men from polo club. Almost as bad as country club. Or golf clubs.” I laughed and her smile widened. “Bom, let me introduce myself properly. I’m Beatriz Fernandes, daughter of João Pedro and Agnes, sister to Ricardo, Pedro, and Leonardo. My friends call me Bia. I’m here ’cause my brothers’ careers control every aspect of the Fernandeses’ lives and I have no choice. Good enough?”
I laughed again. “I guess so.” I extended my hand to hers. “I’m Hannah Taylor.”
The waiter brought her ice tea over.
“I know.”
My turn to arch my brows. “You do?”
“I didn’t know your last name, or that Eric Bennett is your boyfriend, but I’ve heard about you.”
“Really?”
“Leo told me about helping you with your horse the other day.”
“What?” My eyes widened and I glanced from side to side, scared anyone would hear her.
“Leo is my twin. We’re very close.” She sipped from her drink. “That day, he got home later than we expected him, wet and dirty. We were worried, but he was smiling, which is rare for him. Too rare. When we were alone, he told me he had just met the most amazing girl.”
Heat flooded my cheeks and I stood up. “I have to go back to the game.”
Beatriz stepped in my way. “The thing is, I can see by your reaction”—she pointed to my cheeks—“and by what he told me that day, that you’re not unaffected.”
“I’m unaffected,” I said, more to convince myself than her. I stared down at my feet and whispered, “I have to be.”
I placed a fifty on the bar, and walked away from her before she could say anything else and make the uncomfortable pressure in my chest any more painful.
Chapter Four
After the first goal, Leo’s team didn’t get much action. Full of energy, Eric dominated the game. There were a lot of times when I admired his competitiveness and how he could turn a game around. There was nothing he couldn’t do. There was nothing he wouldn’t do. That was always inspiring.
But not today. This time, I could see the almost sick smile on his lips and—if he hadn’t been using goggles—I was sure his eyes would have had that same gleam. He was driven by fury, by the will to win, to prove he was still the best and nobody could take that away from him.
If I hadn’t known he was an entirely different person with me, seeing him like that would have put fear in me.
Two hours later, he left the field with a huge smile, his demeanor not competitive anymore, but proud and happy.
Unable to resist, I smiled too. But when he embraced me, drenching my pretty dress in sweat, I cringed. That enticed him, of course, and he pulled me closer, showering me with small kisses.
I giggled and scrunched my nose. “Stop, stop! God, you reek!”
He let go of me and sniffed his shirt. “It’s not that bad.”
I laughed. “Ha. As if.”
He made to embrace me again, but I turned and dashed away. And bumped into Leo.
I began falling back, but his hands on my elbows steadied me.
“Careful,” he said, his eyes on mine. It took my breath away. He wasn’t wearing the hat or the goggles anymore, and his hair was glued to his face, reminding me of our afternoon together.
Aware of his skin scorching mine—and Eric standing a couple of feet behind us—I pulled away. “Thanks.”
Eric’s arm draped around my waist as he came to stand by my side. Smiling, he extended his other hand to Leo. “Mr. Fernandes, great game.”
“Call me Leo,” he said, shaking Eric’s hand briefly. “I agree. It was a great game.”
“Yes, you and your brothers form quite the team,” Eric said. Leo’s eyes flickered to me, and Eric followed it, never losing his smile. “Where are my manners? Leo, this is Hannah Taylor, my girlfriend.”
As if we had never met, Leo offered me his hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Taylor.”
“Likewise,” I whispered, once more aware of him and how well my hand fit in his.
Leo never took his eyes from me. “I take it you two have been together for a long time.”
“Two years,” Eric said. “Hopefully, she’ll accept my marriage proposal soon and we’ll start counting decades then.”
Without meaning to, I looked from one to another, and noticed Leo was about two inches taller and a couple of inches wider than Eric. The lines on his face were sharper, his jaw harder, and his lower lip was a little fuller. Damn, wake up, girl!
Finally, Leo glanced at my boyfriend. “You’re a lucky man.”
Eric lost the smile, and his grip around my waist tightened. “I know.”
Then Leo’s gaze returned to me.
“Excuse us,” Eric said, veering us away from Leo. With his death grip around me and large strides, he led me away from the field.
I almost tripped on one of the stones in the path. “I’m wearing heels. Can you please slow down?”
His arms slid from my waist, his hand clasped around my arm, and he pulled me harder, like what I had just said enticed him.
Breaking the Reins Page 4