Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  I’d begged Eric to leave me out of this one, to go to this damn ball alone. After all, it had been only nine days since my father was gravely shot, but he insisted, saying that fresh air and friendly faces would be good for me. I guess he wasn’t entirely wrong, but knowing my father’s condition was still critical didn’t make it any easier to relax.

  However, I knew this was an important night for Eric. It was the opening ceremony of one of the most important tournaments of the year, one based at his club, and one that he had to do great at if he wanted to keep his spot as number one in the world.

  I offered him a small smile. “Thank you.”

  At the Polo and Racquet Club, the valet opened the door for me, then drove the car away as Eric held my hand and walked into the ballroom with me. The place was heavily decorated with different kinds of yellow flowers, thick golden candles, heavy beige tablecloths, and delicate silverware. The curtains had been tied to the sides, exposing the large double doors leading outside. The crystal chandelier sparkled, and the floor had been polished to resemble pearl.

  Like a magnet, my eyes found Leo almost instantly. He was across the room, near the bar, with Bia and one of his brothers. And his eyes were on me. My breath caught in my throat. He looked gorgeous in a black tuxedo and dark green tie. His usually unkempt hair had apparently met a comb. The bangs were pulled back, giving him an older and more sophisticated air. He drank from the glass in his hand—was that soda?—still holding my gaze. I noticed everyone around him had a flute of champagne or a glass of whiskey, but he was drinking a soda. An almost twenty-one-year-old guy not drinking alcohol?

  A little pressure on my lower back woke me from the daze, and I quickly turned to Eric, ashamed of my weakness. He guided me through the ballroom, always keeping me a half step in front of him, as if I were some big prize he needed to show off to everyone. People greeted us, told us we looked gorgeous, and sent their best wishes to my father and good luck to Eric during the tournament.

  I looked around. These people were too judgmental. What were they thinking of me right now? The uncaring daughter who danced over her father’s not-so-ready grave? Gosh, how I didn’t want to be here.

  Finally, Eric showed me to the table we would share with his teammates and their girlfriends or spouses. Soon after, the speeches began. The president of the club spoke first, welcoming everyone and officially opening the tournament. The organizer of the event spoke, followed by a few other important people, one of them was Eric.

  The end of his speech surprised me. “I would like to invite everyone to send good vibes to Mr. Charles Taylor, one of the most illustrious members of this club and my girlfriend’s father.” He gestured to me, and I wanted to crawl under the table as all eyes fell on me. “Thank you for letting me bring you here tonight when I know you wanted to be at the hospital with your father instead.”

  I nodded while everyone applauded. Eric said thanks and walked off the stage, toward me. People redirected their attention as dinner was served a minute later. At our table, the guys talked about the upcoming games. The first one was the next afternoon, against a team from Chile. Meanwhile, I did my job of small talking with the women.

  Then the band began playing, and, without asking, Eric caught my hand and steered me onto the dance floor. A slow song played and he held me close, swaying to the rhythm.

  “I meant it,” he said, looking into my eyes. “Thank you for being here with me.”

  At moments like this, when he said things like that and stared into my eyes with adoration, I knew we could work things out and make our relationship strong and solid again. I just knew it.

  I rested my cheek on his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  My eyes found Leo’s, and the urge to run to him assaulted me. Damn, why couldn’t there be at least one thing that was simple in my life? Just one. Was it asking too much?

  Apparently, it was.

  Leo danced with Bia a few feet from me, and his gaze never wavered the entire time, except for the quick seconds when he spun his sister around and had his back to me. But then it was Bia’s turn to have her knowing eyes on me. She wore a dark green gown that matched Leo’s tie, and her long hair was curled to perfection, flowing like a smooth wave down her back. Did they know how good they looked? How wonderful they looked?

  “Are you okay?” Eric asked, and I almost jerked in his arms. “You seem tense.”

  I wonder why. “I’m fine,” I lied. Why was it getting easier and easier to lie? I’d never lied to him, or anyone else before. Now it had become a part of my life.

  “How about I get us a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Hand in hand, Eric and I weaved through the crowd to our table, but our flutes were gone.

  He scanned the room for a waiter. There were quite a few, but they were incredibly busy.

  “Why don’t you sit here while I go to the bar?” he asked, pulling my chair back.

  I nodded and sat down. He leaned in, gave me a peck on the cheek, and then left me alone at the empty table.

  Without meaning to, I glanced around, telling myself I wasn’t looking for Leo. The dance floor was too crowded, and I couldn’t find Leo and Bia anywhere. However, I saw Megan, Blaire, and Andrea ambling toward me, legs twisting, heels tripping, champagne flutes swishing.

  I stood up to greet them, and the beer and whiskey smell enveloped me before I even embraced them.

  “Enjoying the party?” I asked.

  “Ohmygosh, tonight is the night,” Megan said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “For?”

  “Attacking,” she whispered, and the other girls giggled. She must have noticed my quizzical look, because she continued, “We’ve been on the hunt for a couple of weeks now, and tonight is the night to attack. Blaire will have Pedro Fernandes, Andrea will have Guilherme, and I’ll have Leonardo!”

  My mouth hung open. “What?”

  “Well,” Blaire butted in. “They don’t know it yet, but we have an infallible plan. They won’t be able to resist our charms.”

  “Want to know our plan?” Andrea asked.

  “Of course she wants to know,” Megan said, before taking a long sip of her champagne.

  No, I didn’t.

  “Let me tell her,” Blaire said.

  The three of them started bickering about who was going to tell me what. Megan reached around me to hold Blaire’s flapping hands, and her champagne splashed down my arm.

  “Oh shoot,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Andrea grabbed a cloth napkin from the table. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I dabbed the liquid from my skin, thankful it hadn’t spilled onto my dress.

  “There. All gone.” Megan placed her empty flute on the table. “Where were we? Oh, the plan. So—”

  “Sorry, girls,” I interrupted her. “My skin feels sticky. I need to wash it off. Be right back.”

  I whirled on my heel and dashed to the restroom, relieved at having found a way out of the conversation. Holy crap, what were those girls up to? Megan would try to seduce Leo? Damn, I so didn’t need to know that.

  I turned into the short hallway where the restrooms were located, and a sick feeling settled in my stomach. Inside, I avoided looking in the mirror as I splashed a little water down my arm, afraid of seeing what reflected back in it as I tried not to think about Leo.

  But it was too hard, especially when I was alone with a mirror in front of me. I raised my head and stared at my eyes. There it was. The agony of loving Eric and desiring Leo. Because I still love Eric. Nobody just stopped loving like that. Right?

  As for Leo and my desire for him, it was a fleeting thing, I was sure. He had a pretty face—a gorgeous face and a damn hot body—and happened to be around while my boyfriend and I were experiencing a few bumps in the road. My feelings for Leo were an infatuation that would die out with time. I wished time passed faster. It would help if I didn’t see him during that time. But how could I not if he was part of the club? Beatriz w
as right. I wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. However, I could avoid the club.

  A couple of minutes later, I stepped out of the restroom and ran into someone.

  “Guria, we so gotta stop meeting like this,” Beatriz said.

  “Agreed.” I looked over her shoulder and found Leo leaning against the wall across the hallway, his eyes on me and his thumb on his black ring. So much for avoiding him.

  Bia followed my gaze and grinned. “Do you know Mr. Owens?”

  I frowned at her. “Yes.”

  “That creep has been following me around the club like an old tiger on the prowl since we moved here. So, I assigned Leo as my chaperon tonight. He’s not thrilled about it, but I’m not giving Mr. Owens a chance to dance with me.”

  I nodded. “Yes, that would be Mr. Owens. Don’t worry, though. He’ll get the hint soon and will move on to another girl.”

  “Good to know.” She moved past me. “Excuse me.”

  She winked and entered the restroom, leaving me alone with Leo in a five-by-eight corridor. Not the wisest of actions. But then, I thought that she was rooting for me to dump Eric and take on her brother, so why not?

  Because it was wrong. So, so wrong.

  I lowered my head and started walking past him, but something inside stopped me. I faced him with the same intensity he looked at me with. His gaze left me breathless while I was sure my eyes showed him how annoyed I was.

  “Megan plans on sleeping with you tonight,” I said.

  “What?” He frowned and half-laughed. “Where is this coming from?”

  “She just told me, rather proudly, that you wouldn’t be able to resist her charms tonight.”

  He pushed away from the wall, shortening the distance between us. “You’re jealous.” I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Taking advantage of my momentary blank, Leo leaned toward me. “You are jealous.”

  I raised my chin in defiance, regretting it the moment I did as it put my face even closer to his. “I have no right to be jealous.”

  “Neither do I, but how do you think I feel when I see you with him? Dancing with him? His hands on your back? You leaving with him? I can’t even think of what you two do when you’re alone. I might kill someone if I do.”

  “I haven’t slept with him in over a month.” I put my hand over my mouth as soon as the words flew out, ashamed of confessing something so private. I had to put some restraints on my tongue around him. Not only for the words it might utter …

  Crap.

  Slowly, Leo closed his hand over my wrist and pulled my hand away from my mouth, and me closer to him. “What? More important, why?”

  I averted my gaze. There were several reasons. We had been busy, and I hadn’t seen much of him. Besides, I’ve been worried about my father and I couldn’t relax enough to let it happen.

  However, it certainly had nothing to do with Leo being in my mind all the time.

  Nope. Nothing at all.

  He groaned. “Morena, you’re killing me,” he whispered in my ear. His breath teased the skin on my neck, sending a delicious shiver rolling down my body. I turned my head ever so slightly toward him, and his scent flooded my senses. I inhaled deeply, savoring this forbidden moment. “Say it. Tell me what you feel for me, and I’ll whisk you away from here, in front of everyone. I’ll even punch him if he gets in our way. Please, tell me, ’cause I can’t let you go now.” His hands snaked around my waist, and he pressed my body against his hard frame. I gasped. “Please, morena, say it.”

  Nothing felt more right than this moment, than me in his arms, our breaths mingled, our heartbeats in accelerated synchrony. But I found some leftover courage and, with my hands on his chest—damn, I could feel his muscles under the two layers of fabric—I pushed him back.

  “This isn’t right.”

  “It feels way too right.”

  I retreated a couple of steps, hoping to get out of reach. “This is just an attraction. Lust. Even if I surrendered to it, you would be over it by tomorrow. I can’t throw a strong two-year relationship out the window for someone I don’t even know how I really feel about.”

  Holding my stare, he tilted his head to the side. “Are you sure you don’t know how you feel?”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s only lust, and maybe a little excitement over a challenge, an adventure. But it’s just that.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his chin high and jaw tight. “You’re lying.”

  I’d just gone over this inside my head in the restroom, and I wasn’t in the mood to explain every detail to him.

  “Have a good night,” I said in my best robotic voice. I turned and hurried back to the ballroom.

  Before I crossed the archway, and music blasted my ears, I heard Leo calling me one more time. “Morena!”

  ***

  “There you are,” Eric said as I approached the table.

  He was seated on his chair, two flutes of champagne on the table in front of him. Across the table, Tomas and his girlfriend were having dessert, but Megan, Blaire, and Andrea weren’t there anymore. Without meaning to, I glanced around, looking for them.

  My stomach tightened in knots when I saw the girls dancing in a circle right beside where Ricardo, Pedro, and Guilherme were standing, talking among themselves, with drinks in their hands.

  I slumped down onto my chair.

  “Are you okay?” Eric asked, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.

  “I’m fine,” I blurted, turning my attention to him. “Sorry. I had to go to the restroom.”

  “Yes, Megan told me she spilled her drink on you. Did it stain your dress?” The concern in his expression made me feel ashamed. He was worried about me. He loved me. I wondered if he ever had doubts about us, if he ever had desire for another woman while dating me. Ugh, at the same time, I didn’t want to know. I guess finding out he had cheated on me would be the death of my self-esteem and pride. And that made me feel even worse, because I had considered, even if only for one tenth of a second, cheating on him. How could I even think of doing something to him that I didn’t want him to do to me?

  Once more, shame consumed me.

  “No. Thankfully, it only spilled on my arm.”

  “Good.” He smiled and handed me a champagne flute. Desperate for an outlet, I drank all the contents in two long gulps. “Whoa. Looks like someone is ready to party hard.”

  I set down my flute, and saw Leo and Bia entered the ballroom. I couldn’t help but look at Megan. She was searching the room, probably for him. Her eyes and her smile widened once she found him heading their way—or actually, his brothers’ and cousin’s way. She elbowed the other girls and they all giggled.

  I reached for Eric’s flute and downed it.

  “Go slow, baby. I don’t even remember the last time you drank this much.”

  My head spun. “I can handle it. Let’s get more.”

  I stood, but Eric tugged my wrist and made me sit again. “I’ll get it for you.”

  He was back in a blur, holding two new flutes.

  “Thanks,” I said, reaching for one, but he placed them on the table and held my hand instead.

  “Let’s dance a little, then we can come back and drink more.” He hoisted me up from my seat. “I’ll even call Pete and ask him to drive us home, so we can drink all we want.”

  Pete was Eric’s chauffer—though he acted more like a bodyguard most of the time. Well, that did sound like a good plan.

  “Then you won’t mind if I take one more sip before hitting the dance floor.” I batted my eyelashes, hoping it looked as charming as I thought it did.

  Eric chuckled. “All right.” He handed me a flute and I drank half of it.

  The liquid was chilled with only a hint of sweetness, and it went down smooth. Right now I felt okay, but champagne was a bitch. When least expected, it would drag me down, and I would fall like gelatin. Lord, help me, but I so just wanted to black out and wake up when all the mess was solved, when
Leo and his family were back in Brazil, when Eric and I were back to what we were before, when my father was awake and well.

  Eric guided me to the center of the dance floor, and we danced along with the pop beat the band was playing. Soon, some friends and known faces stopped by us, shimmed a little, and then moved to other circles. When I could keep my mind in the moment, in dancing with the man who loved me, in wearing a beautiful gown to a fancy ball, and nothing else, I felt good.

  It was fun.

  It was … easy.

  Three songs later, the band started playing a slower classic song.

  With a grin, Eric grabbed my hands, placing them on his shoulders, then slid his hand to my waist and moved us along with the rhythm.

  “I don’t remember telling you how incredible you look tonight,” Eric said.

  “I do,” I said. “But thanks. It’s nice hearing it.”

  “I’m indeed lucky. You’re beautiful, kind, strong, and everything a man could ever want in a woman. I love you so much, baby.”

  “I lo—”

  Someone bumped into us, and I tripped on my heels. Eric held me still as Leo and Megan stopped dancing and turned to us.

  I went rigid and my eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan said, her smile shining almost as much as all the chandeliers in the ballroom.

  “It’s okay,” I said, trying and failing not to glance at Leo. Staring at me, he placed his hand on her back. I did my best not to glare at them.

  Eric offered an acknowledgment nod to Leo. “How is it going?”

  “Bem,” Leo said. His accent was pronounced. “How about you?”

  “Never better.” Eric smiled, and I instantly recognize which kind it was. A challenging smile. “Ready for the tournament?”