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‘Oh...’ She grabbed a breath and concentrated.
Tiago’s finger was circling repeatedly, maintaining just the right amount of friction... ‘Wide,’ he reminded her, pressing her legs apart. ‘And keep looking at me.’
She grabbed a shuddering breath. ‘I’m not sure how long I can hold on...’ Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
‘I know,’ he soothed.
Those eyes—that touch...
She whimpered as he began to rub faster, and with just the right pressure. ‘I can’t—’
‘Then don’t,’ he said in a different tone. ‘Let go now...’
Tiago drowned her cries of pleasure against his chest and held her firmly as she lost control.
‘And that’s just the start of our wedding night,’ he promised, smiling down at her as she sank into his arms.
* * *
He strolled back with Danny to the house, making painfully slow progress as everyone who hadn’t yet congratulated them seized their chance. He welcomed their good wishes, telling himself that if control was good for him it was even better for Danny.
The women on the ranch had asked him if they could prepare a scented bath for her, and he had agreed, hoping this would please and reassure her. He wouldn’t risk anything going wrong now—not with so many witnesses on the ranch. His representative had already left to take the marriage certificate to the lawyers. The ranch was his, thanks to Danny.
When they reached the door he swept her into his arms and carried her across the threshold.
‘I didn’t know if you would do that,’ she said, laughing up at him, her face alive with happiness as he lowered her to her feet
‘I don’t forget anything where you’re concerned. Would you like me to help you out of your dress?’
Suddenly, she was shy. ‘If you could just unbutton it for me, please?’
Her voice was tight with nerves.
‘Whatever you want.’
This wasn’t the Danny he had enjoyed getting to know all over again—the girl who had already become an essential cog in the wheel that was Fazenda Santos. This was a girl who still harboured doubts and it was up to him to resolve them.
He had barely unfastened the last button when she picked up her skirts and fled up the stairs.
‘First on the right,’ he called after her. ‘The women have made a surprise for you.’
She paused and turned, hovering on the stairs. ‘Aren’t you coming up?’
‘Of course I am. This is our wedding night.’
Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she carried on, running to the first floor, while he held back. She reminded him of a wild pony—trapped and uncertain in its new circumstances.
‘Take your time...relax,’ he called up the stairs.
She disappeared out of sight without answering him.
The silence was heavy in the hall. Maybe that was why the shadow of doubt fell over him. He had been so certain that for this one year he could make Danny happy, and that when that year was over she would have everything she could possibly need and he would be free. But she was proving as elusive as a wisp of smoke that kept slipping through his fingers, which left him in the unique position of wondering if he could hold her for as long as a year.
* * *
Danny exclaimed with pleasure when she walked into the bathroom. The women had gone to so much trouble for her, with scented candles and fresh flowers strewn everywhere. She turned full circle, knowing that she didn’t deserve this. How could she, when her marriage was a charade? But to waste their preparations for her would be throwing their generosity back in their faces.
Releasing the hem of her dress, she let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Climbing into the bath, she sank into the warm, sudsy water and lay back, closing her eyes. She could hear a shower running somewhere close by. When it stopped she pictured Tiago stepping out, grabbing a towel and winding it around his body. She waited a few more seconds and then sat up.
Just in time. The door opened and he was there. Just as she had imagined, his powerful torso was naked, while his body was gleaming and barely dry.
‘You’re lucky,’ he said, smiling as he glanced around her fairy dell. ‘The women have really gone to town for you.’
Her heart beat faster as he strolled deeper into the room. He picked up a towel, unfolded it and held it out. She climbed out of the bath, naked and transfixed by his eyes. She had no doubts left. This had nothing to do with the contract. This was what she wanted.
Tiago wrapped her in a towel and lifted her into his arms. He carried her into his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Unlooping the towel from his waist, he let it drop. The room was silent apart from her breathing. The bed yielded to his weight with a sigh.
His muscles were formidable close up. She had never seen him naked before. His skin was deeply tanned to a rich bronze, and scarred from a lifetime of taking riding to the limits—maybe scarred from his youth too, she remembered, knowing he’d been wild.
She traced his tattoos, those brutal reminders of the Thunderbolts polo team, with an exclamation mark for emphasis—intended, no doubt, to strike fear into the team’s opponents. His stubble was thick, his hair was thick too, and his gold earring glinted in the light. He was like no man she’d ever seen before. He was the perfect barbarian. And he was her barbarian.
‘Slowly, chica,’ he advised as she pressed against him. ‘I’m big and you’re small.’
‘No...’ She smiled cheekily up at him.
But, yes, he was big—and she was small by comparison and she loved that. She loved the weight of his erection pressing against her thigh, and exclaimed softly when his hand found her.
‘Are you surprised?’ she murmured, when he raised a brow at how ready she was.
‘Not surprised,’ he growled as he moved over her, to start teasing her with his velvet-smooth tip.
‘You can’t do that,’ she complained. ‘You can’t tease me like that.’
‘Really?’ He smiled faintly. ‘I think you’ll find I can.’
A cry escaped her when he probed deeper, but he took his time and waited until he’d built her confidence. Then he moved a little more, a little deeper, stretching her beyond imagining, but his knowing fingers made her forget the shock of it.
‘Do you want me?’
‘You know I do,’ she forced out shakily
‘Deep?’
‘Yes,’ she confirmed.
‘Firmly?’ Tiago suggested, smiling, his lips brushing hers.
‘Please...’
‘Now?’
She cried out with pleasure as this big man, who looked so brutal but was so careful with her, took her smoothly until he was lodged deep. Then he rested, giving her a chance to recover from the invasion and catch her breath. She hung on to him, her hands clutching as she gasped with excitement. And then he cupped her buttocks, and that felt so good. It turned her on to think of those big, strong hands controlling her. He lifted her onto him and began to move with regular, dependable strokes, until she was whimpering in time with every one.
She reached her climax fast—too fast—and lost control with a throaty scream of shock. And then she was all melting, soaring, gliding on thunderclaps of sensation.
‘More?’ Tiago suggested when she was finally reduced to astonished sobs.
‘Please...’ She only needed that one word in her vocabulary, Danny concluded as she stared into Tiago’s eyes.
She pressed her mouth against his shoulder as he began to move again, faster now. She clung on tightly as the primal imperative to move with him, to work with him, claimed her.
‘Let me pleasure you,’ he encouraged huskily, opening her legs wider still.
‘Yes...’ she agreed. This was everything she had ever wanted, and it thrilled her all the more to know that Tiago needed her too.
She exclaimed with disappointment when he withdrew, and then laughed when she realised that he was teasing her. When he sank deep again she moaned and pressed her mouth against his neck.
‘More?’
‘As much as you can give me?’ she suggested. Her whole world was sensation now, and he had centred it in that one place.
He thrust deep and pulled out, then thrust deep again. Her heart cried out to him to give her everything, to find his release. Grabbing hold of his buttocks, so firm and muscular, she moved with him. She was demanding now, claiming her mate and moving as strongly as he was with every stroke. They were both ravenous for this, and she could be as fierce as Tiago.
It was only a matter of moments before she felt the pressure building again and, seeing the mist of pleasure reflected in Tiago’s eyes, she knew he was close too.
‘I’ll tell you when,’ he cautioned.
‘Now,’ she said fiercely.
He could do nothing to stop her—to stop himself—as she tightened her muscles around him. They were both lost, both swept up in a fire storm of sensation, and when she found release he did too.
* * *
If only she hadn’t read the screen on Tiago’s computer. She had come downstairs for two glasses of water while Tiago was in the shower, and she hadn’t been able to wait to get back to bed. But now she was squatting on the kitchen floor with her arms over her head, pressing—pressing hard—as she tried to make the words on the screen go away.
If she hadn’t come down to the kitchen she wouldn’t have nudged his computer and the screen wouldn’t have flashed on. It was too late now. She’d seen it. And, short minutes after crying with happiness, she had tears of desperation pouring down her face.
She never learned. She always trusted. She always hoped for the best. And now she was a ridiculous bride in a skimpy outfit that one of the young girls had left out for her to wear on her wedding night. The decorated bathroom, with its candles and scent bottles and flowers, had been wasted on her. The women on the ranch had wanted her to feel like a treasured bride, when in fact she was a complete idiot.
Burying her head again, she hugged it harder. But the words on the screen still flashed in front of her eyes.
‘You will never hear anything good about yourself if you eavesdrop, Danny,’ her grandmother had used to say.
And you wouldn’t read anything good about yourself either—as she had just discovered. Tiago had been in the middle of writing an email back to Lizzie when he had broken off—presumably because the gauchos had arrived to escort him to their wedding. And once she had started reading the screen she hadn’t been able to stop. She had even scrolled back to read the rest of Lizzie’s messages.
It had been about then that she had ended up on the floor. Her legs must have given way as her world had shattered.
It was all lies. Tiago had lied to her by omission.
The subject line on Lizzie’s email had been enough without the rest: Chico told me. That sounded so accusatory. What could Chico possibly have told Lizzie to make Danny’s best friend so angry?
Reading on, she’d found out.
I know you’ll stop at nothing to secure the ranch, because I know you, Tiago, but your plan smacks of desperation to me. And if you hurt her—if you force Danny to do anything she doesn’t want to do—you might be Chico’s friend, but I swear I’ll never forgive you.
Danny’s my friend, and I will protect her. You can’t marry someone simply because you need a wife and a baby fast. When I challenged Chico about it he said you would keep the child, but not the mother. How could you, Tiago? I refuse to believe my friend would agree to this unless you’ve lied to her—and when she finds out her heart will be broken again.
Please send her home. The work on the roof is nearly finished, so the house is safe to live in, and we’ll be back from honeymoon soon. Please tell Danny she always has a home here—
Tiago would keep her baby?
Danny shook her head in desperation. It wasn’t so much the fact that Lizzie obviously believed Danny’s marriage to Tiago was doomed but the thought of having her child taken from her that had stopped her in her tracks.
Tiago had never mentioned anything about a baby. Even when she had confronted him about the possibility of their having a child he had shrugged it off. No system of birth control was absolutely reliable, and they had used none today, but if Tiago thought he could take her child away from her—he didn’t know her at all. She would fight to defend her child to her dying breath.
What was wrong with him? The terms of his grandfather’s will had been unreasonable. Tiago had acknowledged that. His grandfather had wanted him to found a dynasty that carried his name, but they had both agreed how outdated that was.
Saving the ranch was something she could support—but tearing a child from its mother?
A chill of dread swept over her. Tiago believed he had to comply exactly with the terms of his grandfather’s will or risk losing everything: the community he’d built, the wonderful people... Everything he cared about would be destroyed. And she had entered into this arrangement with her eyes wide open. But did an unborn child deserve to be a pawn in their game?
It wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t change him. She had to get that through her head. Tiago’s childhood experience had been with utterly selfish parents and he’d built a carapace of steel around his heart. Her past had made her determined to survive anything—and she would survive this.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#uf3466473-cc7b-57e2-9e86-3bab36943bc7)
‘DANNY?’
She could hear him coming down the stairs, and his purposeful stride heading towards the kitchen. She was on her feet, leaning over the kitchen counter with her arms braced and her fists planted. She didn’t move when he came into the room. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She didn’t respond in any way.
‘Are you okay? Danny—what’s wrong?’
Tiago was at her side in moments, still warm and damp from the shower. She could smell soap on him, she registered numbly as she pushed his hand away.
She stepped to one side, but he stood in front of her.
‘Speak to me, Danny.’ Dipping his head, Tiago searched her eyes.
She turned her face away. ‘I think it’s better if I don’t talk now.’
He straightened up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m angry, Tiago, and I don’t want to say anything in the heat of the moment to make it worse.’
‘To make what worse?’ he demanded. Raking his hair, he shook his head impatiently. ‘I’m in the dark, here. Can you help me?’
Danny didn’t know if she could. ‘I owe you an apology.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Tiago flared.
