The old man's face had lit up at this point as he'd told her, ‘But Tiago is different. Tiago is one of us.'
Tiago was overly generous to everyone who worked for him, and one of the most highly regarded horse-trainers and horse-breeders of his time. He was also a world-famous polo international.
Basically, he had no flaws-though Danny suspected the world's women might disagree, because Tiago had never recovered from his mother's spendthrift ways and so didn't trust women. This was what Elena, who had a far better command of English than anyone else on the ranch, had explained, after hugging Danny when she'd heard about their impending wedding.
Tiago's mother had been the sophisticated type, Elena had confided, and she had groomed her son to be a playboy. This was a mask Tiago still wore when it suited him, but he was gaucho through and through-like his grandfather before him.
Danny took all this information and added it to what she already knew about Tiago, but whether it would give her more confidence regarding the next year or less, she wasn't sure. Tiago was a product of his upbringing, and she was hardly a child from a stable home. Perhaps together they stood a chance of building something worthwhile?
They might, but that wasn't why she was here. In a year's time there would be no Tiago and Danny together. What was the point of building anything beyond an understanding between them?
Hearing rotor blades, she stopped in the middle of the yard to stare up at the sky. He was back. Her heart thundered. She tightened her grip on the parcel in her hand. She had bought him a wedding gift-had it made for him by one of the gauchos on the ranch. It was only a small gesture, but it was something. She didn't want to go to Tiago empty-handed on Friday.
Now she began to wonder why she'd done it at all, and what he'd make of the gift-this man who could buy anything, and who travelled to town in his helicopter.
She glanced at the bulky package and at the white knuckles on her hand. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she firmed her resolve. Why go for half-measures?
Plucking a flower from one of the pots in the yard, she tucked it beneath the string on the parcel. Whether Tiago wanted her or not, he'd got her for a year-and she'd got him.
And he took her breath away.
Tiago's air of purpose and energy seemed redoubled as he strode into the yard. He didn't waste time. Dragging her close, he stared into her face for a heartbeat, and then kissed her as if he would never let her go.
‘I've missed you,' he growled. ‘Where's Elena?'
Still recovering from his sensory assault, she somehow found the breath to tell him that the housekeeper had gone home about an hour ago.
‘Excellent.'
Maintaining eye contact, Tiago backed her towards the house. Removing the parcel from her hands, he left it on the hall table along the way. He grabbed her hand when they reached the foot of the stairs.
‘No!'
He stopped abruptly and stared down at her, frowning. ‘No? What do you mean, no?'
‘I mean no.' She had to tell him how she felt about this. ‘I don't want to.'
‘You don't want to what?' Tiago demanded, his expression darkening.
‘I don't want to make love to you. Not today. Not now.'
He seemed incredulous, and laughed. He certainly wasn't used to rejection. ‘Explain,' he said coldly.
Stiffening her resolve, she went ahead and told him. ‘I have decided to save myself for our wedding night.'
His frown deepened, and then he laughed again. ‘You've what?'
‘You heard me. I'm not going to bed with you until our wedding night. I want to make it special,' she explained, starting to feel awkward as Tiago stared at her as if she were mad.
‘I have to keep my pride, Tiago. Surely you understand that?'
‘Your pride?' His eyes narrowed.
‘Yes, my pride,' she insisted more forcefully.
Tiago lifted his hands away from her, as if the last thing he wanted now was to touch her.
‘Please don't be angry.'
He stepped back. ‘Is this some sort of power-play?' He stared down at her suspiciously. ‘Are you using sex as a weapon?'
‘Hardly. I'm not using sex at all.'
He was incredulous. He didn't have a clue what could be motivating this. Danny had been so different on the jet. But as he advanced towards her she paled, and put her hands flat against his chest.
‘Please...' she said, staring up at him.
What had he been thinking? Was he no better than Pintos? Had his desire for Danny blunted his brain entirely?
The world he inhabited was brutal and unforgiving. The brand of polo he played was more than competitive, it was aggressive. But aggression had no place when he was with Danny. Losing had never been an option for him, whether that be in the game of polo or the game of life. But Danny was different, and she required different rules. He'd been drawn to her in Brazil because she'd been fun to be around, but the more time he spent with her the more he realised just how badly she'd been hurt, and how well she hid that hurt.
And now he was going to add to it?
They stared at each other, and then he said, with a reluctant shrug, ‘I guess waiting until our wedding night could be a good idea.'
‘Liar,' she whispered, smiling now. But then she added softly, ‘Thank you, Tiago. Thank you for understanding.'
‘Me?' He smiled into her eyes. ‘Understand pride? I'm surprised at you, Danny. You should know I'm an expert on the subject.'
She exhaled raggedly and, having surmounted that hurdle, went on to the next. ‘I've got something for you,' she revealed.
‘For me?' Tiago couldn't have looked more surprised. ‘Why have you bought something for me?'
Was she the first woman ever to buy him a gift?
‘Why shouldn't I buy something for you?' She was genuinely bewildered. ‘I wanted to thank you.'
‘Thank me?' Tiago's lips pressed down in puzzlement as he stared at her. ‘For what?'
‘For the chance to work alongside you-the chance to live here on your ranch for a year.'
Danny's heart filled as she spoke. There were so many reasons to thank Tiago, starting with right back at the stables in Scotland, when he had saved her from Carlos Pintos. And now he had understood why waiting until they were married before having sex mattered so much to her.
Even further back, in Brazil the first time, when she had still been raw from her disillusionment with Pintos the first time around, it had been Tiago she'd always looked for-and not just because he was the most attractive man on the ranch...though that fact had been hard to ignore. He'd always been able to lift her spirits. He had made her feel relevant again when Pintos had called her a waste of space, and she had believed him. Tiago had never seemed less than pleased to see her, and he had made her feel like someone worth seeking out for a chat.
‘Watching you work has been a revelation for me,' she said honestly. ‘Having this chance to meet the people you work with, to learn how they live, will be a privilege.' She shook her head as she struggled to find the right words. ‘I'd work here for nothing for the chance to learn from you.'
‘You haven't mentioned money once,' he said-more as an observation than a criticism.
‘Why would I?' Her elation dwindled as she remembered that this had always been about money for her. No wonder he was cynical. They both had a long way to go to build any trust between them.
‘So what did you buy me?' he wanted to know.
She was glad of the change of focus, but embarrassed that her gift was small in comparison to the riches Tiago was used to. ‘I think you can safely call it a job-appropriate gift.'
‘What?' he demanded. ‘A tin of hoof oil?'
Danny smiled. ‘Not exactly.' Leaving his side, she went to collect the bulky parcel he'd taken out of her hands. ‘I just hope it's okay.'
The gaucho who had made the special coin belt for her had explained that in the olden days these traditional belts decorated with silver coins had been used almost as portable bank accounts for gauchos, as they moved from place to place in search of work.
‘Now I'm curious,' Tiago admitted as she pressed the package into his hands.
‘So open it.' She stood back, relieved that the tension between them had eased-at least for now.
‘Deus, Danny, this is really special.' Tiago handled the belt reverently, the silver coins chinking in a smooth riff as they passed through his fingers. ‘I can't thank you enough.'
‘Do you really like it? It's not too much?'
‘I love it. It's perfect,' he insisted. ‘And I love you for thinking of it.'