Полная версия
In the Brazilian's Debt
Lizzie shook her head. ‘I thought you understood, but you knew nothing about my life then—just as you know nothing about it now.’
‘As you know nothing about mine,’ Chico fired back.
And as the temperature soared between them she whirled around. She started to say something—something angry to hit back at him—something passionate to express all the hurt she’d felt when she was only fifteen—but as she speared a glance into Chico’s blazing eyes he reached out and caught her close.
She held her breath and stared up at him. He wouldn’t dare—surely he wouldn’t dare?
His grip tightened and slowly and deliberately he brought her inch by reluctant inch to within a whisper of his mouth. And when he brushed her lips with his she shivered and sighed—because she could do nothing else. It was a signal for him to move closer, until his hard body could control hers, and then, resting his forearm on the wall above her head, he dipped his head to tease her with almost-kisses until she was helpless with desire. Need collected inside her until finally it overwhelmed her.
Welcome to the hot, sultry and successful world of Brazilian polo! Get ready to spend many
HOT BRAZILIAN NIGHTS
with Brazil’s sexiest polo champions!
Forget privilege and prestige, this is Gaucho Polo—
hard, hot and unforgiving …
like the men who play the game!
Off the field the Thunderbolts are notorious
heartbreakers, but what happens when they meet
the one person who can tame that unbridled passion?
You may have already met
gorgeous team captain Gabe in
Christmas Nights with the Polo Player
Now get ready to meet the rest of the team in:
In the Brazilian’s Debt March 2015
At the Brazilian’s Command April 2015
And look out for Lucas and Karina’s stories coming soon!
Available from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Or visit the author’s website:
www.susanstephens.com/thunderbolt
In the
Brazilian’s Debt
Susan Stephens
SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance style they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis, or gallops through the countryside singing loudly.
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
SIGN ME UP!
Or simply visit
signup.millsandboon.co.uk
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
For my wonderful readers who love their bad boys
safely confined within the covers of a book.
Chico is for you.
Contents
Cover
Introduction
HOT BRAZILIAN NIGHTS
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
REVENGE IS A DISH best served cold.
Lizzie thought about her father’s words as the transport plane lost height, bringing them closer to their destination. Determination was an admirable quality, her father had insisted with his usual bluff confidence, founded on nothing more than one of his hunches and the dregs from a bottle of Scotch. His Lizzie wasn’t short of determination. She would rebuild the family pride where he had failed.
How many other apparently confident people put on an act in order to reassure others? Lizzie wondered as she peered out of the small, grainy window. She had been planning to embark on this advanced training programme with horses in Brazil for years, and just hoped she wasn’t shooting too high. She was determined to set the family business back on its feet, but flying for hours over miles of uninhabited nothingness in Brazil had thrown her. She felt so far away from home, and seeing Chico Fernandez again after all these years was going to dent her confidence even more.
‘How come you’re not nervous?’ Lizzie’s friend and fellow groom Danny Cameron demanded, clutching on tightly to Lizzie’s hand as the plane dropped like a stone.
She put on one hell of an act? She wasn’t a great traveller, and probably felt the same fear as Danny. As the ground came up to meet them like a slap in the face, her stomach roiled. The distinctly unglamorous transporter, known as the Carrier Pigeon to the staff of Fazenda Fernandez, appeared to dive-bomb its target, which was a rambling ranch in the middle of the pampas in Brazil.
‘We’ll be fine,’ she soothed Danny, hoping for the best.
Would they make it?
Would she make it, more to the point? Never mind that the runway was short, and the plane was loaded down with horses, grooms, and equipment, all heading to the world-class training ranch of the infamous hard man of polo, Chico Fernandez. She might make it to the ground safely, but would she make it safely out of here with both her heart and her reputation intact? It seemed incredible now that Chico had once meant so much to her, but she’d been fifteen the last time she’d seen him in person, when, for one glorious summer, Chico had been her closest friend and confidant, until her parents started referring to him in the same tone people reserved for the devil.
Chico Fernandez was supposedly the Fane family’s nemesis, yet here she was, to suck him dry of all his equine knowledge, according to her father, before returning home to restore the horse-training business that, again, according to her father, Chico Fernandez had destroyed. She knew now her father’s bluster covered for his faults, and had learned to make up her own mind where his many, dramatic pronouncements were concerned. The college that had awarded her this scholarship to train with Chico Fernandez was spending good money on the course, as were all the other students. She guessed they, like her, also hoped to ‘suck the famous polo player dry’ of everything Chico could teach them.
Any thoughts her father might have had about this being a wonderful opportunity for Lizzie to get back at a man he considered his enemy were so far off the mark as to be ludicrous. But she’d listened patiently, as she always did when her father was on one of his rambles, as he assured her that this trip was simple justice, because Chico had stolen everything from him: his good name, his business, his wealth and success, and his horses. ‘Chico took everything from me—everything, Lizzie—even your mother! Never forget that.’
How could she forget her father’s impassioned speech, when he constantly reminded her that thanks to Chico he had been reduced to a drunken husk, while her mother had left him to go and live in the South of France with the latest in a long line of much younger men?
But not before her mother had been seduced by Chico? The rumours put about by her parents were even worse. They said Chico had forced her mother to have sex with him. Lizzie couldn’t equate that with the man she’d known, though her mother, whom Lizzie had been made to call Serena, had done everything she could to destroy Lizzie’s friendship with Chico, saying he was just a poor boy from the slums of Brazil, while her daughter was Lady Elizabeth Fane.
Lizzie had thought herself in love with Chico, and had cared nothing for her so-called status. She still cared nothing for it, but she was no longer a gullible adolescent and could see her parents’ faults. Whatever her father said, Lizzie doubted Chico was to blame for her family’s descent into ruin. In fact, her grandmother, who had taken over Lizzie’s care when her parents lost interest, had confirmed this, saying Lizzie’s parents hadn’t needed any help where ruining the family was concerned.
What had hurt Lizzie the most was that Chico had promised to take her away from a home life that had frightened her, before her grandmother had moved back in, mainly because her parents had held parties where everyone got drunk and did things behind locked doors that Lizzie could only guess. She hadn’t shared these suspicions with Chico, just her unease, though she had told him how much she hated living at home. As a youth looking for a cause, Chico hadn’t demanded too much of an explanation, but had promised to rescue her, only to return to Brazil without even saying goodbye.
It was hard to reconcile the friendship they’d shared with the way she felt about him now. She had trusted Chico completely and had never got over what she’d seen as his betrayal. They had shared so many adventures on horseback, and had got to the point of exchanging silly gifts, though Chico’s mentor, the Brazilian polo player, Eduardo Delgardo, had made sure their friendship never went any further than that.
The only way to deal with her mixed feelings for Chico, Lizzie decided, was to concentrate on the one thing that mattered, which was his magical way with horses. This gift had made him her hero when she was fifteen years old, and if she could pick up everything Chico could teach her here on his world-famous training course it could be the key to rebuilding the family business. She was looking forward to showing him how much she’d changed, from an impressionable teenager into an individual who was every bit as driven and as determined as he was, and, though it would be tough seeing him every day, failure wasn’t an option when the people of Rottingdean were depending on her to get this right.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Danny yelped as the plane landed.
There was no going back now.
As she looked outside her confidence took another knock. Everything was so much bigger and wilder than she had imagined, and potentially more dangerous.
Like Chico?
The ground was parched. The sun was blazing down. According to the weather forecast, the humidity outside the aircraft would be high. The horses would be restless after such a long confinement. They would need firm and sensitive handling by their grooms, which was where Lizzie excelled. Horses were her life, and seemed to sense how deeply she cared for them. Her presence alone was usually enough to reassure them. Unbuckling her seat belt, she was out of her seat before the pilot had turned off the engines.
Lizzie remained with the most fractious horse until the back of the plane had been opened and sunlight streamed in as the ramp was lowered into place—and the sound of a husky male voice, so familiar, so long in the past, issuing terse commands in Portuguese, froze her to the spot.
‘Quem é que na parte de trás congeladas em pedra? Tremos trabalho a fazer!’
It stunned her to hear that voice again, though it had gained an edge of command. Chico was used to instant compliance, she gathered. He must expect it. He was so successful. For Lizzie it was a nostalgic reminder of the past, and for a moment she thought herself back at Rottingdean in the shade and the quietness of the stables, a fifteen-year-old girl, hanging on every word he said—
‘Lizzie!’
Danny was shaking her arm, Lizzie realised, because, thanks to thinking about Chico, she had become the one fixed point in what was now a hive of activity. ‘What did he say?’
Danny had a better command of Portuguese than she did, and lost no time translating for her. ‘“Who’s that at the back of the plane, frozen into stone? We have work to do!”’ ‘Lizzie!’ Danny muttered urgently. ‘That’s you!’
‘Oh—’ Red-cheeked, Lizzie stared around, but there was no sign of Chico.
He never had been the type to hang around, she remembered as she caught a glimpse of a big male figure, dressed in dark, form-fitting clothes, ducking into a high-powered Jeep. He was so much bigger than she remembered, and his body language had changed. Instead of the easy stride she remembered, everything about him was commanding and certain...
Well, he would be changed. Twelve long years had passed since the last time she’d seen Chico, though even as he drove away at speed now that brief glimpse of him was enough to make her heart race. Which was not the best of starts, if she was going to complete this course successfully. And she was not going home without a result. She would not be taken in a second time by Chico’s seductive charm. She would focus on the horses, and make a strong business plan before returning to Scotland to make a name for herself.
Staring up into the solemn brown eyes of the horse she was caring for, she was relieved to see his ears pricked with interest, rather than laid back with fright. If only she could soothe herself the same way.
‘Come on, handsome,’ she coaxed. ‘It’s time for you and me to test the air of Brazil.’
* * *
He was content. He was back on his vast fazenda in Brazil, which was the most cherished part of his worldwide equine empire. Control and order ruled throughout. His control. His rule. Horses loved order and certainty, and he loved horses, so the smooth running of this ranch was non-negotiable.
‘New recruits, Maria,’ he snapped out crisply.
Crossing the wooden floor of his pristine office, his elderly secretary handed him a sheet of paper listing the new students.
He exchanged warm glances with Maria, who was the only woman in the world he trusted. Maria had been with him from the start. They adored each other. It was more a mother and son relationship than that of employer, employee. Maria had occupied a neighbouring shed in the barrio, the violent slum where they had both started out, where someone was murdered on average every twenty minutes. Maria’s son, Felipe, and Chico’s brother, Augusto, had been in the same gang, and had been shot dead in front of Chico in the same brutal incident. Chico had been ten years old at the time with a father in prison and a mother on the game. He had vowed to look after Maria, as he had vowed to bring justice and education to the barrio. He’d done both.
‘So,’ he mused, scouring the list. ‘These brave few have come to study at Fazenda Fernandez so they can leave with a diploma stating they have survived and thrived beneath the riding boot of the acknowledged master of the equine world?’ He exchanged an amused glance with Maria. ‘And still they come, Maria.’
‘Thanks to you, Chico,’ Maria insisted. ‘Because you are the best.’ Maria’s characterful mouth pressed down as she shrugged expansively. ‘The best want to study with the best.’
He laughed. ‘So, who have we got here?’ His gaze stalled on one name. Thank God Maria hadn’t noticed his reaction. Explanations would have spoiled her day. Seeing the name Fane and that distinctive address had spoiled his day. He had thought he was done with that family.
‘There were more applicants than ever this year, Chico.’
He didn’t want to upset Maria when she was in full flow. Maria was proud of him. She treated him like the son she had lost, and in return he loved Maria and protected her in every way he could. He would not upset her now, so a short hum was his only response to her rapid-fire résumé of each of the new students.
‘And this one’s from the barrio, Chico—’
‘Good,’ he murmured, still debating what to do with one particular student on the list. As for the barrio, that was an ongoing project and very close to his heart. It was a battle he’d never win, some said, but he refused to accept that. To be the best he could be was his personal goal; to help young people from all backgrounds was his mission in life.
‘And we have a member of the British aristocracy with us this year—’
This he already knew. And he was a whole lot less impressed about that fact than Maria.
‘No wonder,’ Maria enthused. She was brandishing an official-looking document at him. ‘Fazenda Fernandez is up for yet another award this year. We are even famous in Scotland where this aristocratic young lady comes from.’
‘Really? That’s good, Maria.’
He made a point of standing next to Maria as he read the letter over her shoulder to assure her of his interest. The letter confirmed that Lizzie Fane was a member of that year’s new student intake. He smiled at first, remembering how Lizzie had teased him about his broken English, and how she’d patiently taught him, and how he’d loved those lessons. He had loved watching her mouth form the words more than the words themselves. It was a surprise he’d learned anything new, but Lizzie had assured him that he was her best student.
Her only student, he thought now, his hackles rising when he thought back to her parents, who hadn’t liked Lizzie to have any friends—in case they talked about what they saw at Rottingdean House, he had presumed at the time. They couldn’t get rid of him, because he was with Eduardo, but they had targeted Chico, levelling the most terrible accusations against him in the hope of getting Eduardo to buy them off.
At the time he was angry with Eduardo and Lizzie’s grandmother for spiriting him away before he’d had chance to clear his name, but now he realised they had saved him from going head to head with the establishment, which, back then, was a battle he could never have won. The only thing he didn’t understand about that time was why Lizzie hadn’t stepped forward to defend him. He had thought they were friends, but blood was thicker than water, it turned out, and she had chosen her lying, cheating family over him.
And now Lizzie was here on his ranch, hoping to benefit from his teaching? It was so incredible it was almost funny, but he wasn’t in the mood for laughing.
‘My success is thanks to you, Maria, and to the wonderful staff you have gathered around you,’ he said, determined to look forward, not back.
Maria turned to give him a glowing smile. ‘And to you, Chico,’ she insisted proudly. ‘Without you none of us would be working in this world-class facility.’
He watched fondly as Maria busied herself filing the letter away with all her other treasured possessions, as she referred to the many letters of praise they received.
‘As soon as we receive the official certificate I’m going to have it framed and hung on the wall with the rest,’ she told him proudly.
‘And I’m going to treat you and the staff to a party to celebrate, and thank you all for everything you’ve done for me, Maria.’ He gave her a hug.
‘We’ve come a long way together, Chico.’
As he released Maria and stepped back he could see in her eyes that Maria was thinking how easily Chico could have taken a very different path. His road out of the gutter had begun the day he wandered into Eduardo’s recruitment rally by mistake. Another do-gooder, he’d thought scornfully, contemptuous of the rapt faces all around him. He had believed Eduardo to be one of the rich pigs that came to hand out largesse in the slums to make themselves feel better. Soft bastardo! he’d thought viciously. Ten years old and all fired up, he had been on his way to confront the drug pushers who had killed his brother and Maria’s son, with a loaded gun stuck into his belt and murder on his mind. Eduardo must have seen something of this in his eyes and had called him forward. Chico had remained stubbornly planted, but Eduardo wasn’t so easy to refuse, and Eduardo was big, and hard, and firm, though Chico could still remember shooting venom from his eyes when Eduardo took a firm hold of him. He hated authority. What had authority done for him? Where were the police when his brother was shot? He hated the privilege that brought individuals like Eduardo sightseeing to the barrio and bought rich boys out of trouble. And he hated Eduardo for no better reason than the esteemed polo player was trespassing on Chico’s territory, confronting issues Chico was so sure Eduardo couldn’t understand. But Eduardo had his arm in an iron grip, and his gun was soon in Eduardo’s pocket. There would be no murders committed that day.
‘I owe it all to you and to Eduardo, Maria,’ he said now. ‘Everything I have is because you two believed in me.’
‘And we weren’t wrong, were we?’ Maria planted her capable hands on her ample hips as she confronted him. ‘Against all the odds, the poor boy from the barrio finds himself here.’ She said this expansively, as if they lived in a palace, rather than on a ranch as she gestured around ecstatically with another of her beaming smiles.
His face softened too. How could it not? Every day he relished this life, for Maria’s sake as much as his own. It couldn’t have happened if Eduardo hadn’t treated him like a son, believing in him, however hard Chico had made things for Eduardo. And Chico had made things hard, though he had idolised his mentor. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was, to have been chosen to work for such a famous polo player. Having taken him out of the barrio, Eduardo had shown him that there was so much more to life than drugs and guns and war, and when he’d died Eduardo had left Chico everything, knowing his devoted charge would pick up Eduardo’s causes and infuse them with new life.
He had used the money Eduardo left him to buy and develop a hand-to-mouth scrub ranch, which after years of hard labour he had transformed from an unpromising stretch of land into the most prestigious polo centre in the world. He had accomplished this because he was meticulous and driven, and because, as Eduardo had noted, Chico had a special way with horses. This gift came from the early days of working for Eduardo, Chico believed. When he could confide in no one else the ponies listened to him, and in return they gave him their trust. This interaction between man and beast had led owners and players alike to think he had some special magic. There was no magic. Polo ponies were competitive and he gave them every reason to trust him, so they obeyed his smallest command. They trusted him to keep them safe and bring out the best in them. Women thought the same thing, but unlike the animals, he had no interest in wasting his time or his emotions on women.
‘Chico...?’ Maria prompted hesitantly, seeing he was lost in thought.
‘Maria?’ He gave her an encouraging smile.
‘Would you like me to walk you through this year’s intake of scholarship students?’
‘No. Thank you, Maria, but I’ll take the list with me, and study your report later.’
He didn’t want anyone around when he did that, let alone the impressionable Maria. Reading that one name had been enough to make him feel as if his guts had been wrenched out and thrust down his throat, and he had to take a moment to control the emotion clawing at his senses that said someone would pay for this oversight.
Yes. He should pay. He should have checked this year’s intake before he went on the polo tour, and then this would never have happened.
