Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride

‘It is where you’re concerned. I’ve never known you to express your feelings before.’

‘And you’re so open with yours?’

She turned, restless, uncertain, hovering, as if she wanted to go but also wanted to stay. ‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ she said at last. ‘I do appreciate your concern—’

‘For God’s sake, Danny, I’m not the local doctor. I’m your husband.’

‘Of one night,’ she said. ‘And I know this farm doesn’t look much, but I enjoy my work here.’

‘You’d enjoy any job with a horse attached to it. Is this a permanent position?’

Lifting her chin, she peeled off her riding gloves and blew onto her cold red hands. ‘Nothing’s permanent—is it, Tiago?’

Shaking his head, he ignored the jibe. At any other time he would have seized those hands and put them inside his jacket, so his blood could heat hers, but Danny was like an edgy colt that might bolt if he made any sudden movement.

Undaunted, he asked, ‘How about lunch in town?’

She looked at him as if he were mad.

He shrugged. ‘I’m hungry. It’s nearly lunchtime. And it’s far too cold to hold our reunion here.’

‘But what would we have to talk about?’

He had to remind himself that he had vowed to take this slowly.

‘I’m sure we’ll think of something.’

* * *

The only possible reason she could come up with for sitting in the sedate hush of the Rottingdean tea rooms with a barbarian, whose face was coated in thick black stubble and whose brilliant smile made the elderly waitress primp and simper, was that it wasn’t possible to ignore her husband when he was in town. Tiago had come all the way from Brazil, she reminded herself, and she owed him the common courtesy of a conversation—if only in the hope that they could find some sort of closure.

‘Do you have to do that?’ she demanded—an unreasonable demand, she registered a split second after the words left her mouth, as Tiago removed his jacket.

Just revealing the powerful spread of his shoulders was enough for her awareness of him to soar into the stratosphere. She would challenge anyone to spend the night with Tiago and then just blank it from their mind.

‘You take it off, laddie,’ one of the elderly waitresses advised, endorsing Danny’s opinion that in this sun-starved land Tiago Santos was a rare treat. ‘You’ll never feel the benefit when you go outside if you don’t take your jacket off,’ she commented approvingly, and a dozen or so more women turned their heads to stare at the splendid sight of Tiago, whose powerful frame was clad in the finest black Scottish cashmere.

With a warm smile at the waitress, Tiago raised a brow as he turned to Danny.

‘You wanted to hear about my place of work?’ She judged that a safe enough topic to start off with.

‘Go ahead.’ Smiling faintly, he looked down as he attempted to ease his legs beneath the dainty table without sending it crashing to the floor.

‘You’re too big for here,’ she said as she steadied the teapot.

‘Too big for civilised company?’

She buried her face in her teacup.

‘So?’ he pressed with a faint strand of amusement in his voice when she failed to answer him. ‘This farm where you’re working...?’

‘It’s a tenancy,’ Danny revealed, looking up now they were back on safe ground. ‘The landlord lives off-site. He owns several similar properties, and he has asked if I would consider managing all of them for him.’

‘Has he indeed?’ Tiago’s jaw tightened.

‘There’s no need to sound so suspicious. He’s old enough to be my grandfather and due to retire any time now. More tea?’

Tiago’s eyes narrowed at her prim tone, drawing her attention to the fact that he was twice the size of any man in the tea room. His hair was thicker, blacker, wavier and more unruly. And you could take it as a flat-out fact that there wasn’t another man in the place wearing a gold earring. Local skin was blue-white—freckled, in her case—while Tiago’s skin was swarthy, and she was quite sure there wasn’t a man in a fifty-mile radius who could boast anything close to his physique.

‘I feel like a giant, trying to fit my frame into this chair.’

She was forced to smile when he eased his position gingerly. ‘You’ll break it if you move too suddenly,’ she warned.

Dipping his head, he stared up at her in a way that sent heat to every part of her body. It was impossible to remain immune to Tiago’s particular brand of charm, and impossible to forget how it felt to be held in his arms. And now every woman in the place was staring at him.

‘I won’t catch you if you fall,’ she warned him when he tipped his chair back.

‘You’ve already caught me, chica.’

Tiago’s murmur and that black stare fixed onto hers made her think of one thing only—and it wasn’t tea.

‘Are you ready to go?’ he said.

She was about to leave when the bell tinkled over the door and Hamish, the gamekeeper, and his crew walked in. She was glad of the distraction, and surprised when Hamish acknowledged Tiago as if they were old friends—but then she remembered that they would have met at Chico’s.

‘Are you okay, Danny?’ Hamish asked gruffly.

‘Yes. Thank you.’

After the two men had exchanged greetings, and Hamish had gone to find a table, Tiago turned to her. ‘Come to dinner with me tonight.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You will be if you refuse me,’ he threatened with a wicked smile.

She gave him a warning look that didn’t deter him at all. ‘Are you asking me out?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m doing,’ Tiago confirmed.

His lips pressed down, drawing her attention to the fact that he was badly in need of a shave—as usual. Imagining that stubble scraping her skin was a breath-stealing reminder of how it had felt when he kissed her.

‘It’s harmless,’ he said. ‘We’re married, and I’m in town.’

Nothing was harmless where Tiago was concerned, but she couldn’t bring herself to let him go yet. ‘I have to eat, and so do you. Why not?’

Why not? She could think of a thousand reasons why not. Discarding them all, she allowed her imagination to run riot for a moment... Screaming with pleasure in Tiago’s arms would be preferable to sitting across a table from him...

‘Danny?’

She pulled herself round fast and smiled into his eyes. ‘So you’re asking me out on a date?’

Tiago frowned slightly. ‘I suppose I am.’ But his eyes were dancing with laughter too.

It would be all right. She would confine herself to chatting about people they knew. She would keep the conversation, as well as everything else, on safe ground.

‘Stop frowning, Danny. It’s a meal and a catch-up, and then I’ll take you home.’

Now she just had to convince herself that that was exactly what she wanted. ‘That sounds good,’ she agreed. ‘Yes,’ she said softly.

Tiago smiled his bad-boy smile. ‘You do know that a candlelit dinner is usually a prelude to sex?’

‘If you think that’s going to tip the balance—’ She stopped, noticing that the respectable townsfolk at the tables surrounding them were listening in with avid interest.

‘I think they like me,’ Tiago murmured, with amusement in his dark eyes.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he lifted her hand to his lips.

‘Stop,’ she warned him, pulling her hand back. ‘I’ve agreed to supper—nothing more.’

‘That’s all I’m offering,’ Tiago assured her. ‘Sex isn’t on the menu tonight.’

Now she was hit by doubt. Why didn’t he want sex? Had Tiago found someone else? She felt sick at the thought.

‘If this is another of your games...’

Leaning across the table until their faces almost touched, he whispered, ‘The only game I play is polo.’

‘Is it?’ She was still tense.

‘Although I do have a repertoire of games that don’t require a horse and a mallet to make them fun.’

She made an incredulous sound as Tiago sat back with a confident smile on his face. He continued to regard her steadily, his amused black stare warming her, and even when he looked away to call for the bill a sweet pulse of desire throbbed deep inside her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DANNY WAS ALWAYS CALM, always measured—at least that was what she told herself—except for tonight, when she was catapulting from one side of her room to the other, trying on clothes and trying to decide how she should wear her hair.

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