In the Brazilian's Debt. Susan Stephens
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with a steady look. The connection might be there, but they were strangers, he thought, and the steel in Lizzie’s eyes intrigued him. She had always been a tomboy, but there was something in her expression now that suggested she was still hurting because he’d let her down by leaving Rottingdean House all those years ago without saying goodbye. Had he meant so much to her?
When he was least expecting it, she relaxed and smiled. ‘I’m really pleased to be here.’
Now he was confused. What was he to believe? Lizzie with a grudge? Or Lizzie, the student determined to impress? She had always been good at hiding her feelings. She’d had to be. There was only one certainty here. The power of her stunning emerald gaze had hit him like a punch in the gut.
What was wrong with him? He shook her hand, and now he didn’t want to let her go? To feel her hand in his grip, so small, so slender, so cool, had made him want to ask her straight out: what happened to you? To us? Worse, he had to fight the crazy impulse to drag her close and kiss her hard.
‘It’s been a long time, Lizzie,’ he said finally with commendable restraint.
‘It has,’ she agreed coolly. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but I had to be sure I’d picked everything up, and that Flame was properly settled for the night.’
He inspected the work she’d done on the horse. She’d done a good job, but not good enough to meet his exacting standards. He’d pulled Lizzie’s report from her college. She’d passed out top of her class, which was why she had been awarded the scholarship to train under him at Fazenda Fernandez. He remembered her grandmother telling him that Lizzie needed something to lose herself in. He had understood immediately that Lizzie found the affection denied her by her parents from the horses she cared for, because he’d found that same solace, but what was driving her now?
‘Well, if that’s all?’ she said pleasantly.
She waited patiently for him to move out of the way. She had inherited none of the supercilious qualities of her parents, he noted, but her eyes were wounded. The past had damaged them both, but why had she chosen to believe her parents’ lies over him? The answer came to him as they stared at each other. However a child was misled or mistreated, they never gave up hope of winning the love of their parent, even if that parent was incapable of giving love.
‘You have a wonderful facility here, Senhor Fernandez. I’m thrilled to have been given the opportunity to train here.’
She was close enough to touch, to kiss, to reassure...
‘And we’re very glad to have you here,’ he replied in the same measured tone. ‘You come with an excellent recommendation from your college.’
She smiled in response to this, and tension crackled all around them, making him wonder if they would ever be easy with each other again.
‘Anyway, thank you,’ she said, breaking the spell as she hefted her belongings into a more comfortable position. ‘I really do appreciate the chance you’ve given me.’
‘My selection team did that. Everything I do here is in honour of my sponsor, Eduardo. You do remember Eduardo?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ For a moment her confident mask slipped. ‘I was very sorry to hear of his passing. I read quite a lot about him before I came here.’
‘Oh?’
‘When you both came to Rottingdean I just knew him as a leading polo player in Brazil. What I didn’t realise was that Eduardo had devoted himself to providing education for children from deprived backgrounds.’
‘Children like me?’
‘Yes.’ She held his gaze, unflinching. ‘I don’t say that to offend you, Senhor Fernandez.’
‘I appreciate your honesty, Senhorita Fane.’
She slanted him a thoughtful look and almost smiled again. ‘I guess Eduardo got lucky with you.’
‘There are many deserving children,’ he argued sharply as their hopeful faces flashed into his mind.
Lizzie blushed bright red. ‘I realise that—I didn’t mean...I just meant—’
‘I know what you meant. You’re wondering how I can afford all this?’ Not by cheating like Lizzie’s parents, that was for sure.
‘No,’ she protested, and for the first time he thought he saw the real Lizzie, rather than the girl who was trying to please her boss. ‘It makes perfect sense to me. With your natural talent you were always bound to succeed.’
‘And you also realised that success such as mine pays well?’ he pressed, thinking of her mother and wondering if Lizzie had inherited any of Serena’s acquisitive traits.
‘Your financial success is well documented,’ she defended, her cheeks pinking up again beneath his suspicious stare.
Was she after a slice of the pie? ‘Hard work and straight dealing is my only secret.’
‘And a sponsor like Eduardo,’ she suggested, that steel he’d seen before returning to her gaze.
Even now, hearing Eduardo’s name coming from a member of the Fane family’s lips grated on him, though he had to admit that the fact Lizzie had no problem speaking up for herself was to her credit. Her parents had always delivered their barbs from a safe distance.
‘I’m in awe of the legacy Eduardo Delgardo left behind, and I don’t just mean his money,’ she explained. ‘He inspired so many people with his good works, including me.’
Her steady gaze convinced him that in this, at least, Lizzie Fane was being totally honest.
‘I should go to supper now. My friend’s expecting me—’ She started to move past him.
He wasn’t ready to let her go yet and stood in her way. ‘You bandaged him?’
‘Yes?’ Her concern was obvious.
‘Put your things down outside the stable, and come back in here.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Back in here,’ he repeated.
He was already hunkering down to check the poultice when she returned to the stall. Apart from wanting to show Lizzie how her bandaging technique could be improved, and disregarding the obvious questions jostling in his mind, he was intrigued by this new Lizzie. Forget intrigue. He wanted her. In the past he had put her on a pedestal and wouldn’t have touched her. But now...
COULDN’T THIS WAIT? There were classes tomorrow. What did Chico really want? He was such a compelling presence he made her feel tongue-tied. Her lips felt wooden and when she tried to speak her voice sounded hoarse. Seeing him again after all these years had completely thrown her. Had she really thought she was ready for this? Just because Chico Fernandez had been the stuff of her fantasies throughout all her teenage years, didn’t mean she knew him. She was keenly aware that she didn’t know him, not now, which was why she felt so awkward around him—and nothing could dilute the impact of a man dressed in nothing more than a pair of banged-up jeans and a black top that showed off his impressive muscles, who had turned from an attractive youth into the hottest thing on two powerful male legs.
‘It’s hot in here, isn’t it?’ she said, finding it hard to breathe suddenly.
‘Not overly so,’ Chico replied. ‘The temperature in here is controlled.’
Unlike her heart, she thought, feeling the effects of being trapped in a small stall with so much undiluted sex. Chico’s physical presence was overwhelming. Shoulders broad enough to hoist an ox, stomach flat, waist slim, from all his exercise on horseback—and, when he was hunkered down like this, a grandstand view of the tightest butt on earth. Added to which, a heavy-duty leather belt was drawing her gaze where it definitely shouldn’t wander. And his face—if Helen of Troy could launch a thousand ships, Chico Fernandez could