‘So what went wrong with this master plan?’ Dante was practically snarling.
‘I couldn’t do it. When it came to it, I just couldn’t do it.’ Raising her head, she blazed a look into his eyes. ‘Why can’t you men accept that some women just don’t like sex?’
‘Don’t speak of me in the same breath as that man,’ he warned softly. He let a few moments pass, and then prompted gently, ‘Are you ready to tell me the rest?’
She drew a steadying breath. ‘I did everything he asked, but then he couldn’t do it.’ Ignoring Dante’s facial expression, she tried to explain. ‘He said it was my fault because I wouldn’t relax. He said I was too tight for him. I tried to help him but I couldn’t, and then he was angry with me, and that’s when he fell into a rage—’
‘The insect that bit you?’ Dante’s tone was incredulous.
Lowering the sheet, she took hold of his hand and moved his fingertips slowly over the rest of her scars. ‘I ran into a swarm of insects.’
He hissed through his teeth, but let her continue.
‘He beat me so much that eventually I fell out of bed, but not before he broke my nose.’ Touching it, she huffed a humourless laugh, remembering. ‘It wouldn’t stop bleeding so I had to go to the emergency room.’
‘Did he take you there?’
‘No. Of course not. I took myself. He said he was glad to be rid of me, and that I was a pathetic excuse for a woman. Narrow escape, huh?’ She tried to smile, but it didn’t come off. ‘While I was in the emergency room a nurse gave me a full exam. She said it was usual when there was so much bruising. It wasn’t just my nose,’ she added, quickly staring down to avoid Dante’s molten magma stare.
‘I told the nurse everything—how he’d tried with his hand, and even with a sex toy he’d bought. It was all a waste of time. I’d...closed up completely. I couldn’t understand what had happened to me, until the nurse explained that it’s a recognised medical condition. It can be due to physical causes, she told me, though in my case she thought it was more of a psychological reaction to losing the baby and then the violence of that night. She said it wasn’t something I could control, and that it would take time and therapy. She fixed me up with a therapist who told me I was lucky I hadn’t been raped.’ She glanced up. ‘That was the end of the therapist. I didn’t feel lucky. I felt dirty and ashamed.’
‘And now?’ Dante’s voice was gentle.
‘And now I shouldn’t be here,’ she said, changing her tone to bright and cheerful.
‘Because?’
‘Because now we both know that there’s something wrong with me—and that it could get in the way of our work here.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Karina.’ Dante stated that with such certainty that she didn’t even try to resist when he drew her into his arms. ‘You’ve had one trauma after another, and have never given yourself a chance to recover. You’re too hard on yourself,’ he said, as he pulled back to stare into her face. ‘Sometimes it’s not possible to bounce back just because we decide it’s time. Sometimes we have to ask for help—even you, Karina.’ Holding her arms lightly, he brought her in front of him. ‘Do you want me to find some professional help for you?’
‘No!’ She recoiled at the thought.
‘You only have to say the word and I’ll arrange it with someone who knows what they’re doing.’
‘Sorry.’ Shuddering, she drew in a breath. ‘I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just that I’ve tried therapy and I know it doesn’t work for me. I honestly think it would set me back.’ She said nothing for a long time and then she looked at him. ‘Could you help me?’
‘I’m going to help you,’ Dante confirmed, as if there could be any doubt. ‘And I’ll do it by starting from scratch.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We both know the clock is ticking as far as this event is concerned, so neither of us has the time to concentrate properly on anything else until it’s over.’
‘What are you saying Dante?’
Easing back, he lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug. ‘Whatever happens next will happen naturally, or it won’t happen at all.’
Fear of losing him swamped her as he left the bed. She watched him scoop up his jeans and tug them on, feeling she’d already lost him.
‘I’m going to leave you to sleep now.’ His face was set. His eyes were cool. ‘I’ll take one of the guest rooms. Tomorrow work on your report. When you’re finished, I’ll read it. Then we’ll have a meeting and decide where to go from here.’
He might even fire her, she thought. Her lips felt wooden as she commented lightly, ‘That sounds a bit cold-blooded.’
Dante’s stare steadied on her face. ‘It is.’
She had to tell herself that what he had suggested made perfect sense, but that didn’t stop a chill of apprehension rushing through her. Where would they go from here? Anywhere?
She would concentrate on the event to the exclusion of everything else, she told herself firmly. She would make it the best it could be. She would forget her worthy ideas and go full out for carnival at the Gaucho Cup. She got out of bed, making sure to wrap the sheet tightly around her as she swung her legs over the side. She gasped when Dante snatched the sheet away, leaving her completely naked.
‘This is your last day of being a victim, Karina. You’re moving forward from now on. You took a wrong turning and that’s all.’ He shrugged. ‘We all make mistakes, as I should know. And here’s something else...’ He brought his face close. ‘You’ve got me. Understood?’
Did he mean that? Whether he did or not, Dante was right. She would fight back. One day at a time. If she took small steps, instead of trying to leap across chasms, they might even make it together one day, but she couldn’t put her life on hold until then. The next time she met Dante it would be on an equal footing, or not at all.
* * *
They worked non-stop for the next week, with no time to pause for discussions about anything other than the event, but that didn’t mean she stopped feeling. In fact, the cooler Dante became, the more she yearned for his personal attention, but he was clever. He knew her too well. They’d paused for coffee in the yard on her last day on his ranch. Maria had brought it out for them on a tray.
She slanted a glance at him as he issued orders, drank coffee, tapped notes into his phone, and answered questions—anything but mention what had happened between them. Somehow that made his big, powerful body a source of fascination. Had she really shrunk from that? It seemed impossible in theory. Looking at him now, she wanted nothing more than to rub every inch of her against his hard frame. She wanted to taste that bronze skin and, yes, she wanted to remind herself that the straining bulge in his jeans really was that big.
‘You look happy,’ he commented, sliding her a look.
‘Do I?’ She glanced around, hoping he hadn’t noticed her interest in the manifold attractions of his body. What was wrong with her? She could lust like any normal woman—could yearn for a man’s arms around her. She could think the most erotic thoughts, but when it came down to it—
‘We’d better get on,’ he said, heading off.
Working alongside Dante was a revelation. He was brilliant. Fast thinking and decisive, he was the perfect partner. She had never worked with an associate before. Certainly not one as hot as Dante, she reflected as she walked behind him with the sole purpose of admiring his impressive iron-hard butt. She didn’t know anyone else who worked the hours she did, and who barely slept when there was a project to nail down—though the work ethic was a good thing. It kept her sane when frustration of the very real and sexual kind was nagging at her constantly.
If only she could be normal. But if she were there was no time to indulge herself—not at this pace of work. Although, if Dante would care to toss another bucket of icy well water
over his head, as he had done this morning in the yard, she was quite happy to take some down time to admire his naked torso—
‘Karina?’
‘Just thinking through things—making sure I haven’t missed anything.’ Maintaining an expression of wide-eyed innocence was getting harder by the hour.
‘Time to stop thinking and get doing.’
Was he smiling when he turned away? Those black eyes of his were so expressive. And he knew just how to play her. Dante was the master of torment, the maestro of seduction—and he knew it, she thought as he walked away. There was a swagger in his stride and a confidence she suspected had nothing to do with the polo cup.
She braced herself to go and see him before she left the ranch. Half a dozen people were in his study, but he sent them out when she arrived. They both knew she only had a few minutes as a pilot was waiting on the airstrip to take her back to Rio. Final arrangements for the match had reached fever pitch.
‘Got everything you need?’ he asked.
Not nearly, she thought, taking him in. ‘Everything. Thank you.’ With his fists braced on the desk as he leaned over it, Dante was like a pent-up volcano just waiting to erupt. It was no surprise to her that he had held the meeting standing up. All that energy...
‘I’ve got something for you.’
‘For me?’ Her heart stopped.
‘A keepsake.’ Straightening up, he dug into the back pocket of his jeans and brought out a stone. ‘Here—take it.’
She knew what it was and looked at him in surprise. ‘Are you sure?’ She knew enough about them to know that uncut emeralds were worth a fortune.
‘It’s just a rough, hard rock.’ He said this wryly and she got the message. ‘It improves once it’s polished up.’
‘Some things are fine as they are,’ she said, taking it from him.
The corner of his mouth lifted. ‘I knew you’d appreciate it.’
She smiled. ‘I do. Thank you,’ she said quietly, tucking it away in her pocket.
The silence changed and suddenly she felt awkward. Should they kiss on the cheek or shake hands—or neither of the above? She decided to maintain the honoured client routine and shook his hand briefly. That seemed to amuse him, though he overruled the smile and turned his expression to neutral.
She had her hand on the handle on the door when he said, ‘You’re okay, Karina. You can do this. You don’t need anyone now.’
She turned to flash him a quick smile, and tried to pretend that what he’d said was okay. In many ways it was, but it left her uncertain where Dante’s feelings for her were concerned.
Maybe that was a good thing?
No, it wasn’t.
She drew herself up to tell him, ‘I’ll be back for the match.’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you sure I can keep this?’ She felt for the stone in her pocket.
‘That’s what keepsake means,’ he said. ‘Take it as a reminder of your time here, and all the things we’ve done together.’
Together. She’d take that word and seal it in her heart.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KARINA WAS SO busy when she got back to Rio that her head was spinning. That didn’t stop her feelings for Dante keeping her awake at night. They’d put in so much good work on his ranch that everything was falling into place. They worked well together, she reflected as she glanced at his incoming email. She longed to find something personal in them and never did. She still read his new email avidly, as if she were a code-breaker, searching for clues.
After-match party: You know what I expect. Make it the best. Budget no object. D
Elephants? Dancing girls?
She smiled as she shook her head. Dante didn’t waste words. Fortunately, she knew what exactly he wanted—carnival, big and brash and bold. And because the honoured client always got what he asked for, carnival was exactly what he was going to get.
* * *
The big day of the cup had finally arrived. Dante had hardly had chance to draw breath since Karina had left him at the ranch. His pulse banged as he thought of seeing her again, blood rushing to a part of him that thought about her constantly—inconvenient when he was on a horse. He shifted in the saddle and shouldered his mallet. Nothing had ever mattered to him more than polo. The team had been his family for as long as he could remember. It was his source of warmth and friendship, but now there was another vital element missing in his life—so where the hell was she?
Karina was glad of her VIP pass and doubted she’d make it through the crowds in time without it. Dante’s vision was a reality. Carnival in Rio had been transferred to his ranch, and the world was going crazy for it. He was well on track to fulfilling his wish that polo became a popular sport, rather than an elitist game for the fortunate few. She had done everything she could think of to make that possible.
Outside the stadium there were high-quality food outlets, sideshows and a fairground boasting a big wheel, among other rides. There were samba dancers clothed in feathers and sequins performing on the stage, where popular bands were due to take over in the evening. Some of the best musicians in Brazil had offered to give a free concert to raise money for the charities the teams supported, and there was an information pavilion showing all that was best about Brazil.
Everywhere she went people seemed to be dancing and smiling, confirming her impression that the project was a success. Dante was having some quiet time, she’d been told. He’d been away with the team at a secret location, preparing for the match. No one could tell her where he was as the minutes ticked away towards the start, but she had an idea where he might be.
* * *
The ranch house door was on the latch, so she let herself in and quietly closed it behind her. ‘Don’t stop playing,’ she whispered, as he paused in mid-phrase.
Dipping his head in concentration, he started playing again. It drew her across the hall towards him like a magnet. She stopped and smiled. He was such an incongruous sight. Dressed for the match in breeches and a snug-fitting top in his team colours, she doubted there had ever been such a brutal display of muscle and power, and yet the sensitivity in his fingers allowed him to create the most beautiful music. It soothed her like a balm, while he excited her beyond reason.
When the last chord echoed around the hall she stilled, waiting to see what he would do. She had turned away from him to look at a painting as he’d played, and when he walked up behind her she didn’t turned around. She remained staring at the same image of the ranch painted just as it had been when he had taken it over. It was a stark reminder of how far he’d come. She had chosen that same image for the back of today’s programme, with the most recent image on the front.
‘You’re back,’ he murmured.
Leaning her head towards him, she sought contact, sought warmth, and thrilled all over when his hands gripped her upper arms. She didn’t resist him when he lifted them above her head and pinned her against the wall with his weight. Her whole body responded—aching, melting, needing. Arching her back, she thrust her buttocks towards him, responding to those feelings instinctively.
‘Keep that thought,’ he murmured, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck.
It took a moment of complete stillness before she was capable of turning to watch him stride across the hall in the direction of the front door. Pausing only to grab his helmet and mallet, he headed out for the match.
* * *
By the time Dante arrived Team Thunderbolt had assembled. Each man was silent with his own thoughts. This wasn’t the time to ask Luc where his sister would be sitting in the crowd. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to ask Karina where she would be when he had seen her—but he’d had other things on his mind. He had to clear his thoughts now. His colleagues had one thing in mind, and that was obliterating the opposition.
Mounting up, he exchanged a few terse words with his friends. His confidence had never been in doubt where the outcome of this match was concerned, unlike the chance of spotting Karina.
As they rode out to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd, he knew he would entrust his life to the team. They were solid. Their ponies were in top-class condition. They had never been better prepared for a match. He scanned the faceless mass of people. Where was she? He knew she’d be busy with last-minute checks and ground his teeth with frustration as he turned his concentration back to the team.
It was always going to be a close match when the opposing team was captained by the formidable Argentinian Nero Caracas. It all came down to the last chukka. Team Thunderbolt needed one more goal to secure the match...
Nero tried to ride him off, and he was almost unseated, but his pony waited that necessary split second until he was ready, and then she set off again.
He was at full gallop with the goal in his sight when he spotted Karina in the crowd. She wasn’t in the stand where he had expected she might sit, but practically on the field, with her body pressed up hard against the barrier. Her face was ashen as she watched Nero chase him down. He could hear the thunder of hooves behind him, but he’d seen Karina, so anything was possible.
And he hadn’t just seen her—he’d seen the gold earrings she was wearing—the same gold hoops he’d given to her on her eighteenth birthday.
Raising his mallet, he drove the ball home.
* * *
By popular choice, Karina was elected to award the prize. She was waiting at the rostrum for him. ‘Congratulations, Dante, and to your team. I always had every confidence in you.’
‘As I did in you,’ he murmured, as they exchanged chaste kisses of congratulation on each cheek.
‘You can let go of my hand now,’ she prompted.
As she smiled into his eyes he realised that his teammates were backed up behind him, with the opposing team members also waiting to receive their medals. He smiled and stepped back.
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