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Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride
Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride
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Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride

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‘Friends,’ she conceded. ‘You liked teasing me.’

‘Yes, I did. And, as I remember it, you liked it too.’

She shrugged, slanting him a smile, but refused to comment.

‘My grandfather was delusional, Danny. Don’t you think after the childhood I experienced I would want to do something better for my children? I certainly wouldn’t risk any child of mine growing up thinking I’d bought it. And you...’ He paused and looked at her steadily. ‘You’re a very special woman, and someone I’m proud to call my wife.’

‘If you could pull out of our deal, though, would you?’

He frowned. ‘This is no longer a deal, Danny.’

‘But it still feels like one to me.’

‘So what can I do to change that?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘I’ve never wanted anything from you in the material sense, but it was part of the deal. Maybe I can’t live with that. Maybe my problem is with me and my judgement, not you. My only thought was to secure my mother’s future and buy my own establishment. I couldn’t see further than that. I didn’t once think about the true cost...’

‘You wanted to spread your wings,’ he argued hotly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, and you still can. You want to taste adventure? It’s right here.’

He had thought he was getting through to her, but instead of moving towards him she moved back towards her horse and mounted up.

‘I need more,’ she said softly. ‘I need to prove myself before I have anything to offer you.’

He opened his arms in a gesture of surrender. ‘You’re so wrong. You don’t have to prove anything to me. But, please, keep the money. You’re going to need it if you go. Take it for your mother—make her secure. Give yourself a future, Danny.’

‘I wanted you,’ she said. ‘I wanted your love. I wanted a life together.’

‘And you can have it.’

‘But how can I be sure that there won’t be another time when you hide something from me in the mistaken belief that you’re protecting me?’

‘You can’t,’ he said bluntly, resting his hand on the neck of her horse. ‘I won’t commit to a promise I’m not certain I can keep. If you need protecting I’m going to do that, whatever you have to say about it.’

He tensed as she turned her horse for home.

‘So you’re just going to give up? You’re not even going to fight for us?’

‘For us?’ she said, gathering up her reins. ‘There is no “us”, Tiago. There never has been. And, as you say, I have a life to lead and so do you.’

‘But I love you.’

* * *

Tiago loved her. But her own feelings were in turmoil. She owed it to both of them to sort herself out... Would this ever work out?

‘At least think it through,’ Tiago insisted. ‘You don’t have to go right away. You’ve been just as cut off from emotion as I have, but if the last half-hour is anything to go by we’ve unlocked something in each other. Don’t throw that away, Danny.’

She’d hurt him and she didn’t know how to make it right, Danny thought as Tiago brought his horse alongside hers. She blamed herself. She should never have agreed to such a cold-blooded agreement. It had never been going to turn out well. She should have been content to stay where she was, with her heart in one piece.

‘Where will you go? What will you do?’ he said.

‘I’ll go back to Scotland and get a job.’

‘Your qualifications are excellent,’ Tiago agreed, as if he thought it was a good idea—or was that her insecurity talking again? ‘With your experience it shouldn’t be hard to find work. But don’t settle for just anything.’

‘Stop worrying about me, Tiago. My decisions aren’t all flawed. I’ll rebuild my life and move forward.’

‘I have no doubt you will, but I can’t see how going back to Rottingdean is moving forward.’

‘Maybe you’re right. But I’m never going backwards again.’

CHAPTER TWELVE (#uf3466473-cc7b-57e2-9e86-3bab36943bc7)

HE RODE OUT with his collar turned up against the persistent drizzle, his jaw tightly clenched at the prospect of returning to an empty house.

Why hadn’t he filed a flight plan? Any day without Danny was a damp, drizzly day, and she had been gone for over a month. In all that time no one had asked him about his missing bride. No one had dared to question him.

He had dealt with the yawning gap in his life by working longer hours and playing more polo. He had made improvements to the ranch and that had made him even angrier, wondering if Danny would like what he’d done. What did anything matter now?

She would always matter.

His security team had reported that, preferring to stand on her own feet rather than return to her old job at Rottingdean, Danny was now working as a Jack of all trades at a local stable close by the house in Scotland where she had worked for Lizzie’s family. He respected Danny’s wish to find herself, to be her own person, but respect didn’t mean he was giving up on their relationship.

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.