In the Brazilian's Debt(27)

                ‘What are you doing?’ Lizzie demanded as he came to stand between Lizzie and the other polo player. ‘Tiago was just asking me about opportunities for polo players in the UK.’

                ‘I bet he was.’ Turning his back on Tiago, who had angled his chin to shoot him a wry look, he moved Lizzie’s glass of wine away.

                ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded when he glanced at the bartender and the glass of wine was removed.

                ‘Saving you for the second time today.’

                Lizzie’s green eyes flashed with affront. ‘I thought this was supposed to be a celebration.’

                ‘It is a celebration,’ he confirmed. ‘So why aren’t you drinking champagne?’

                A second glance at the bartender ensured that a bottle of his best was brought out from the wine cooler. ‘I want to speak to you,’ he explained. ‘So we’re taking this to the ranch house.’

                ‘Oh, are we?’ she said, arching a brow.

                ‘Yes,’ he returned flatly. ‘We are.’





                                      CHAPTER SIX

                ‘YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE.’ Lizzie turned to ask the bartender if he would pour her a fresh glass of wine. ‘Controlling everything within your field of vision might be acceptable on the polo pitch, but this is my private time, and I decide what I drink, who I drink it with, and where I drink it.’

                ‘So, don’t drink my champagne.’ He leaned back against the bar. ‘Is there something else you’d like to say to me, or have you done venting?’

                She looked as if she’d like to say plenty but thought better of it. When she firmed her jaw, he realised he liked her like this. High on adrenalin, Lizzie was wound up like a spring. He hadn’t seen her so hot for a fight since she was fifteen. But there was a difference today. She was aroused and couldn’t hide it.

                ‘What are you smiling at?’ she demanded.

                ‘You.’ It had occurred to him that for once in his charmed life, Lizzie could be hot for Tiago and not for him. He was keen to test out his theory. Also keen to feel the signs of Lizzie’s arousal pressing into his chest. ‘Shall we dance?’

                She looked at him with surprise. ‘Are you serious?’

                ‘Perfectly,’ he murmured, staring straight into her eyes—which were darkening nicely.

                She sucked in a sharp breath as he curved a smile. ‘No way,’ she murmured, holding his stare.

                ‘I think we should.’

                ‘I’m sure you do, Senhor Fernandez. But my answer’s still no.’

                ‘But this is a celebration, Ms Fane,’ he said, addressing her with the same faintly mocking formality. ‘And I believe the captains of the opposing teams should open the dancing.’

                ‘Is that your usual tradition after a game of polo? I imagine you could sell tickets if Nero Caracas were captaining the Assassins, and you danced with Nero.’ Also a world-renowned hard man of polo, Nero Caracas was one of Chico’s fiercest opponents on the polo field. She’d pay good money to see the two of them dance together.