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At the Brazilian's Command(24)

By:Susan Stephens


Yes. Relationship. They might have been married for only five minutes,  but the bond between them was stronger than any piece of paper they had  signed to silence his grandfather's lawyers.

Reining in, he turned for home. If he cared so much about Danny why was he still here?

* * *

He piloted the jet, but even he couldn't make it fly faster. He swore  viciously at the thought of the time he'd wasted. But they were both  stubborn, and Danny was still locked in the past. He appreciated that  she needed time, but when had he ever hesitated before when he'd cared  about something as much as this? He should have told her every detail  from the start. Then she would not only have known the facts, she would  also have known how he intended to deal with them. Instead he had tried  to protect her, when what Danny needed was love and respect-not  coddling.

He touched down in Scotland and leapt into the four-wheel drive he'd  hired. He didn't wait. He didn't rest. He didn't sleep. Anticipation at  the thought of seeing Danny was all it took to keep him wide awake.

He drove straight from the airport to the farm where she was working.  He might have guessed it would be in a remote glen. Was she going to  hide away here for the rest of her life?

His heart gripped tight when he spotted her. He hadn't expected it to  be so easy, but she was working with a young colt in an outdoor arena.  He climbed out of the vehicle and stood watching. He smiled, noticing  how much she had learned from his training methods. He felt good about  that, though standing back like this was an acute type of torture. And  it was no more than he deserved.                       
       
           



       

The rampaging polo player the press talked about-the man who collected  women like fine wine, drank deep and moved on-was in love. He'd only had  to see Danny again to know how deeply he loved her. His life was  meaningless without her. He'd missed her every waking hour, and had lain  awake each night thinking about her.

There'd been gossip since they'd parted. He couldn't expect the press  to ignore the facts. ‘Marriage is not for Tiago Santos!' one of the  reporters for a red-top had crowed, no doubt rejoicing in his misery.  Danny must have read that article. And, yes, their marriage was unusual,  but Danny wasn't just any bride-she was his bride. She was the only  bride he could ever want. The only woman he would ever want.

He tensed as she stilled, and wondered if she'd sensed him. Whatever  Danny liked to think, they were keenly tuned to each other. Did she know  he'd come to find her?

She turned slowly and stared straight at him. The wealth of feeling  inside him as their stares held was indescribable. He stood motionless,  absorbing every detail of her as she turned back to the pony and, saying  something, stroked its ears. Leaving the arena, she closed the gate and  walked towards him. With every step she took he grew more certain that  they belonged together, and that he would do anything it took to make  this right.

He slanted her a smile as she walked up to him. ‘How are you?'

‘Good.'

She was pale, he thought as she studied his face intently.

‘How are you, Tiago?'

‘I'm fine.'

She didn't sound fine, and instead of taking the single step that would  bring her into his arms she remained a few paces back, staring at him  as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

‘What brings you to the Highlands?'

Her voice, with its soft Scottish burr, rolled over him like a familiar  pleasure-one he'd missed more than he could say. He had never felt so  alert or more aware of Danny, more alive.

‘I'm visiting old friends.'

‘Chico and Lizzie?' She frowned. ‘I didn't realise there were any upcoming polo matches.'

‘Do I need an excuse?'

‘So you've come here to train with Chico?' she guessed, searching his face.

‘I'm here to see you, Danny.'

She collected her breath quickly and exhaled raggedly. Her breath clouded in front of her face as they faced each other.

‘I've stayed away for as long as I'm prepared to.'

‘I thought we agreed-?'

‘I didn't agree to anything,' he cut in. ‘You left me. Remember? You  wanted time to get your head together. I've given you time.'

‘Are you here because of what they've started saying about us in the press?'

‘Don't insult me.'

Biting her lip, she replied, ‘They're saying our marriage was on the  rocks before it began. But if you think I started that rumour-'

‘I don't think that. And I'm not worried about what people think. Our  marriage is our business. And, before you ask, no one can touch the  ranch. The deeds are in my vault and that's where they will stay. So,  you see, I am no longer in the market for a "convenient bride".'

She smiled a little, hearing her own words thrown back at her. ‘So why are you here?'

‘We've been apart long enough. Everyone on the ranch misses you. Lizzie  and Chico wonder why they don't see more of you. You've shut yourself  away here. Lizzie misses you, Annie misses you-Deus, Danny, I miss you.'

He hadn't realised how much.

‘Come back to us,' he said softly.

She remained silent and he looked around the rundown farm, with its broken fencing, peeling paintwork and neglected yard.

‘I don't know what this proves. You must be working an eighteen-hour shift just to keep things on an even keel here.'

She firmed her jaw, but didn't deny anything he'd said.

‘No one doubts you can stand on your own two feet, but why isolate yourself like this? Why are you punishing yourself, Danny?'

‘I'm making a life,' she said simply. ‘And I'm doing it without your money. I'm sure Lizzie understands why I must do this.'

‘Lizzie might understand, but it doesn't stop her worrying about you.  Is that fair? I don't understand you, Danny. I don't understand why  you've separated yourself from people who care so much about you. I  don't understand why you're pushing us all away.'

‘You've no right to discuss me with Lizzie.'

‘I've got every right. We care about you. Is that such an alien concept to you?'                       
       
           



       

‘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.