At the Brazilian's Command. Susan Stephens
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that what he needed was a short-term wife. His freedom meant too much to him to consider anything else.
‘You seem recovered.’
‘I am,’ she said, frowning. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Good.’ That suited him perfectly. ‘I trust you slept well?’
Wrong question. His groin tightened immediately at the thought of Danny naked, stretched out in bed. It was important to keep this confined to business. He didn’t have much time. But it wasn’t easy when she leaned over him to scan the delicious-looking breakfast the housekeeper had laid out.
‘I just came to say goodbye to you,’ she said, grabbing a piece of toast. ‘Annie said you had to get back today. I thought you might have left for Brazil last night.’
She was fishing. He took that as a good sign. ‘Sit down?’ he suggested. ‘Eat breakfast with me. Why are you in such a hurry to get away?’
‘Because I’m going riding in a minute. I don’t have time to sit down and eat.’
‘You’ll need something to keep the cold out.’
Her glance flashed over his warm sweater. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m wearing Arctic layers,’ she explained.
She wasn’t joking. She wore a thick-knit sweater with a fancy pattern, heavy winter breeches, and soft tan leather riding boots, which clung tenaciously to her shapely legs, hiding almost all the outline he had delighted in when he had danced with her last night. The thought of unpeeling her ‘Arctic layers’, as she’d called them, occupied all his thoughts for a moment.
‘Why don’t we ride out together?’
She stilled, with the toast hovering close to her parted lips. ‘Do you have time?’
‘I’ll make time.’
‘In that case...’
He caught her frowning as she headed for the door, as if she suspected there was more to this than a morning ride, but he didn’t care what she thought now he had what he wanted.
His spirits lifted. He felt like a hunter with his prey in sight. And why feel guilty when he was about to make Danny an offer she’d be crazy to refuse? There was just one problem. Trying to appeal to Danny Cameron’s calculating business brain might be difficult if she didn’t have one.
She was quite likely to dismiss his plan out of hand. She would almost certainly consider a marriage of convenience to be selling out, as well as a serious betrayal of the marriage vows—and she’d have no hesitation in telling him. Unfortunately he didn’t have the luxury of time to indulge in finer feelings. The thought of trying to do this deal with one of the women he customarily dated frankly appalled him. Even a night in their company could be too long. And where would he find another potential wife at such short notice?
‘Riding out will give us chance to chat about your future plans,’ he said casually as he held the door for her.
‘Advice always welcome,’ she said blandly, smiling up. ‘But ride first, chat later,’ she insisted.
Nothing about this was going to be straightforward, he deduced.
* * *
She hadn’t planned on riding with Tiago. When Annie had told her he was eating breakfast she had considered going straight out, and then decided that would look cowardly. In keeping with her decision to toughen up, she had decided to face the hard man of the pampas to show him she was over yesterday, and not susceptible in any way to his undeniable charm.
‘You’re riding Lizzie’s horse this morning?’ he commented when they reached the stable yard.
‘That’s right,’ she confirmed as they crossed the yard.
The horses were in adjoining stalls. She couldn’t pretend that riding out with Tiago Santos wasn’t a thrill. And it would look amazing on her CV, she conceded wryly. As if she needed an excuse to ride out with him!
They tacked up together. She tried not to notice how deftly Tiago’s lean fingers worked, or how soothing and gentle he was with his horse.
‘Are you ready?’ he said, turning around.
Her heart-rate soared, and all she could think about was being held in those arms, how it had felt to be pressed up close against his body.
‘Ready,’ she confirmed, lifting her chin.
She had barely led Lizzie’s horse out of the stable when her phone rang. She looked down at the screen and shook her head. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to take this.’
‘Go right ahead.’
She walked quickly away from Tiago, concerned that her mother’s torrent of words would alert him to her problem. It was always the same problem. Her mother was short of money again. It was the only time she ever called.
Taking a deep breath, she launched in. ‘Did you get my messages? I was worried about you. It seems so long since I’ve heard from you. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not okay?’ Danny frowned with concern. ‘Why? What’s happened?’
She dreaded what her mother would say. It was never good news. The type of men Danny’s mother liked to go out with generally needed a loan. She held the phone tight to her ear as her mother repeated the familiar plea.
‘It’s just to tide him over, Danny. I told him you’d understand...’
Told whom? Oh, never mind. She wouldn’t know the man, anyway.
‘I knew I could rely on you. Thank you...thank you,’ her mother was exclaiming.
‘But I don’t have that kind of money,’ Danny said, horrified when her mother mentioned a figure.
Her mother ignored this comment entirely. ‘Just do what you can,’ she said. ‘You’re so generous, Danny. I knew we could rely on you.’
I’m such a mug, don’t you mean? Danny thought.
‘It’s only a short-term loan. He’s got money coming in soon.’
How often had she heard that? Danny wondered. ‘I’ll send you what I can,’ she promised.
‘I hear there’s going to be a lot of money sloshing around Rottingdean now Chico Fernandez has taken control?’
She recognised her mother’s wheedling voice and immediately sprang to her friend’s defence. ‘Chico hasn’t taken control,’ she argued, feeling affronted on Lizzie’s behalf. ‘Lizzie and Chico work in partnership, and their money has got nothing whatsoever to do with me. I’ll send you what money I can when I’ve earned it.’
‘Make sure you get your hands on some of their money,’ her mother insisted, as if she hadn’t spoken, and as if Danny were entitled to a share. ‘You’ve got it good now, Danny. It’s only fair to share your good fortune with others—with me—when things can only get better for you.’
Her mother’s voice had grown petulant and childlike. An all too familiar feeling swept over Danny as she was tugged this way and that by a sense of duty to her mother and a longing to get on with her own life.
‘Just one more thing before I go,’ her mother said. ‘I heard in the village that the repair work at Rottingdean is going to mean evacuating the house soon?’
‘That’s right,’ Danny confirmed. ‘It’s great news that the old house is going to be given new life, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so,’ her mother agreed. ‘But—and it’s really hard for me to say this, Danny—I’m afraid you can’t come back here to the cottage while the renovation work is being carried out.’
‘Oh?’
‘My new fella wouldn’t like it, you see. You do understand, don’t you?’
‘Of