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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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His lips slanted in a smile. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me to sit down?’

‘No.’ When he looked at her like that? Absolutely not.

He sat down anyway. She held her breath as he made himself comfortable. Kicking off his boots, he arranged the pillows to his liking and lay down.

‘Are you quite comfortable there?’ she enquired sarcastically.

Tiago turned his head to shoot her an amused glance. ‘Very. Why?’

Sitting up in bed, she drew her knees up to her chin. Sipping the steaming coffee, she allowed her hair to cover her face like a curtain, to hide her burning cheeks.

‘Am I keeping you?’ he growled.

She have him a look. ‘From drinking my coffee?’

‘I don’t know, chica. You seem tense to me. Are you naked under those sheets?’

Tiago reached out to hook some hair behind her ear and she exhaled with shock. But then, just as she relaxed, he touched her naked thigh.

‘You are naked...’ His mouth tugged in a lazy smile. ‘Silky smooth skin and silky hair.’ He wound a strand of her hair around his finger, and then, taking the coffee mug from her hands, placed it safely on the nightstand out of reach.

‘Relax,’ he murmured, his mouth curving in a smile. ‘This is a long flight. Why not enjoy it?’

Because...

Her throat closed down before she could say anything. Tiago’s touch was so exciting. He aroused her. He made her want more. Much more.

He took his time to soothe and stir her, and before long she had eased down in the bed as he continued to stroke and kiss her...her arms, her neck, the top of her chest above the swell of her breasts. It all seemed so safe and innocent. He had that down to a tee.

When she opened her eyes it was to find Tiago turned on his side, watching her. To have him monitor her responses aroused her even more, and a shaking breath shivered out of her as his big hand cupped her breast. His palm was so warm and firm, and a little roughened from his work with horses. He had intuitive hands, intuitive fingers, and when he shifted position to move over her, and his dangerous, swarthy dark face blocked out the light—blocked out everything but Tiago—she was more conscious than ever of his size and his strength. And also his willpower, and his control, and that aroused her too.

She held her breath with excitement when he stopped, wondering what would come next.

Making her comfortable on the pillows, he drew the covers back and stared down at her body, and for once in her life she didn’t rush to cover herself. She wanted Tiago to look at her. She didn’t want any secrets between them. She wanted him to see her body respond to him. Exposed like this.

His touch when he stroked her breasts was on another level. She tried to stay still but found it impossible, and with a whimper of need she reached out for him.

Tiago smiled. His dark eyes burned with hunger but he had more control than she had, and even as she writhed beneath him, trying to urge him on, he only dipped his head to brush her lips with his. That was almost enough, that kiss, but he denied her the weight of his body. His kisses fired her, his fingers teased her, and she was agonisingly responsive to his touch, but nothing she could do would make him do more.

He curved a smile. ‘I’m the luckiest man on earth.’

She was aching—really aching. She needed his firm touch now.

She gasped with relief as he returned to the assault on her senses, using firm strokes across her belly and down her thighs. And all the time he held her gaze in his.

She cried out when his hand finally found its destination. Easing her legs apart, he teased around her clitoris with a touch that was indescribable, while she lifted her hips in a hunt for more contact, crying out in desperation, not caring what he thought. She needed this—needed him. She needed this now.

At first she thought he was only going to tease her and leave her aching, but as if he could sense the level of her need he relented. Using one gloriously roughened finger-pad, he applied just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of friction, at just the right speed.

Exclaiming at the intensity of sensation, she lost control. Tiago held her firmly in place, using his hand to increase her pleasure and make it last. Even when the pleasure waves began to fade she was incapable of speech, and could only grab a breath as he murmured with amusement, ‘I think you needed that.’

He had no idea. Sex as sport might be second nature to him, but she was a novice and would have to put these feelings in her heart to one side.

She laced her fingers through Tiago’s hair. His hair was so thick and strong. She loved the feel of it beneath her hands, just as she loved the rasp of his stubble against her neck.

Pressing kisses against her breasts, he eased her down in the bed and at last gave her what she longed for: the weight of his body pressing into hers.

She lost control again. That was all it took. She had imagined this moment for so long that now it was here she could only ride the sensation, while Tiago held her firmly in his arms, dropping kisses on her mouth.

‘Good?’ he murmured, knowing very well that it was.

‘Stop,’ she whispered, ‘or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.’

‘Don’t be,’ he said, finding this amusing. ‘Let me be responsible for your actions.’

She responded instantly as he teased her into a state of readiness and fell happily into wild release. Tiago’s kisses thrilled her. He thrilled her. She hadn’t realised how fierce she would be when it came to her need for this man. They were a fierce couple. Their hungry kisses spoke of mutual need. Tiago’s tongue claimed her. He claimed her. He challenged her in a way she welcomed. He made her fight him. He made her test him. He made her feel alive.

When he surprised her by standing up she actually groaned, her disappointment was so extreme, but he didn’t lose eye contact with her for a moment, and smiled as he reached for the buckle on his belt.

Folding her arms beneath her head, she rested back, watching him, enjoying the sight of his deft, pleasure-dealing fingers working to free him of the clothes that stood between them. His torso was hard and tanned, muscular, and magnificent, and her body was ready for him. She had never needed Tiago more.

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

PLUCKING THE PAGER on his belt off the bed, Tiago scanned it impatiently. ‘I’m needed on the flight deck.’

‘You have to go now?’

He laughed. ‘Yes, chica—I have to go now. Patience. Put this on the back burner. Save it for our wedding night.’

Once he was dressed he left her, the door closing quietly behind him. She felt like wailing—and not just with frustration. She was angry she had let things go this far. Tiago was so hard to resist, but she needed something more than a quick coupling in the back of his jet. She might not be heading for a proper marriage, as other people understood the term, but retaining some vestige of pride was important to her.

She had lost all semblance of self-respect after her affair with Carlos Pintos, and she knew what a long walk it was back. This time she wanted to come out of it with her head held up high.

Collapsing on the pillows, she groaned. It would be hard coming back from this. Not only would Tiago expect more from her in the physical sense, but the way she felt inside her heart gave ‘aching with need’ a whole new meaning. Her body ached too, but even that couldn’t compare with the inner pain.

Tiago had awoken dreams and thoughts and feelings inside her—more than she’d known she had.

Tossing and turning, she curled up into a ball and tried to sleep. It was useless. Nothing worked. And it wasn’t just thinking about what might have happened with Tiago that was keeping her awake. There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to know. Maybe in Brazil they’d get the chance to talk—hopefully before their wedding night. She didn’t even have a clue when that would be. She really had jumped in with both feet this time.

* * *

If Danny had thought Chico’s ranch in Brazil was fantastic she was in for a surprise when they arrived at Fazenda Santos, where everything was impressive—from the immaculately maintained fencing, stretching as far as the eye could see over rolling green pampas, to the state-of-the-art buildings that comprised the stud. Tiago’s ranch was situated in one of the wildest regions on earth, allowing her to gain a far better understanding of the scale of his work.

Tiago seemed not to need anything as mundane as sleep, and after a shower said he would be checking round the ranch. Or at least that part of it closest to the house, he explained, as surveying all of it would take a month or more.

‘When I return I will have a hard copy of our contract with me,’ he promised, leaving her in the capable hands of his friendly housekeeper, Elena.

She was alone now in her bedroom, with time to reflect on the rapidly unfolding events of the past few days. She made a start on investigating the suite of rooms, knowing she should unpack and bathe, take the chance to go to bed for a few hours, but she just couldn’t. She was too tightly wound.

Seeing Tiago’s home for the first time was like opening a box of surprises, and she’d soaked up every detail greedily. She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Not some grungy living quarters on a ranch devoted to raising ponies, because Tiago’s playboy side would never allow it. But not glitz and glamour either, as that wouldn’t be appropriate for a working ranch, and for all his society polish Tiago was a surprisingly down-to-earth man.

The reality was a happy mix between comfort and luxury. The ranch house was a large, rambling building, and when they’d first driven up to it Danny wondered if he lived in just a small part of it—perhaps a bachelor pad, stark and functional, with just the high-end accessories of life to keep him company. She had pictured high-tech gadgets jostling with spurs and boots, fast cars parked outside, maybe a Harley. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see saddle soap and tins of hoof oil on the kitchen table, or bridles slung over the banister in the hall.

She couldn’t have been further off-beam. Tiago’s home was a stunning example of an old-style ranch house, though it certainly boasted every conceivable modern facility. In spite of its size he had managed to make his home cosy. Mellow wood predominated, along with all the colours of the earth—russet, ochre, claret and dusky blue—which, with the wooden floors and ethnic wall hangings, gave the old house a prosperous look and an ambience she found as alluring as Tiago.

She should have known he would live comfortably, Danny reflected as she walked to the window to stare out down the long, impressive drive. The gates had been the first giveaway that she was entering somewhere really special. They were impressive, carved out of centuries-old wood, and they had opened on to a scene of well-ordered prosperity. The drive up to the house was broad and long, and impeccably groomed, with paddocks full of horses either side. Immaculate farm buildings stood in the distance, together with a host of other facilities she had yet to name.

But even the buildings hadn’t impressed her as much as Tiago’s wonderfully welcoming staff. They’d shown her nothing but warmth and enthusiasm since the moment she’d arrived, and she had noticed Tiago’s face lighting up like a flame when he had received their smiling welcome to his home.

‘These are my people, Danny,’ he had told her, with such pride in his voice.

She’d never seen him so animated. And then he’d made the introductions, leading her by the hand as if they were already married. Whatever reservations she’d had about their unusual arrangement had faded then. How was she supposed to keep her heart out of this, surrounded by such warmth?

But she wasn’t an employee, and she wasn’t Tiago’s fiancée either. She was in an odd position, Danny mused as she continued to explore her accommodation. There was a lavish dressing room that had obviously been equipped in anticipation of visitors with a far more sophisticated lifestyle than she had. She wondered again what Tiago’s staff must make of her, and then put it out of her mind. It was up to her to form a bond with this place, and with its people, and an arbitrary title wouldn’t help her to do that.

What she loved most, Danny decided, turning full circle, was the lack of ostentation. There was just sheer quality everywhere she looked. Inside, the house was perfect, while outside the emerald-green pampas beckoned.

Her bathroom wouldn’t have been out of place in the most sumptuous hotel. The cream marble was veined with honey, and there were more fluffy towels than she could count. She paused to stare out of the bathroom window, from where she had a good view of the rolling paddocks and the formal gardens surrounding the house. They had flown over Tiago’s ranch for miles, he had explained, before he’d brought the jet in to land.

She had been shipwrecked on a desert island fit for a queen.

Her upbeat mood changed abruptly when she remembered Tiago’s parting words. Even here, in this cosy suite of rooms, a shiver ran through her. She had been telling him how much she loved his home when he’d replied, ‘This is what money can buy, chica. This is what you can buy now.’

It all came down to the ranch for Tiago, and he thought she felt the same about money.

* * *

When Tiago returned from his tour of the ranch everything moved towards the wedding at breakneck speed.

‘I had wanted time for you to get used to your surroundings,’ he explained the next morning with a careless gesture, ‘but there is no time. The clock is ticking. I must marry before the week is out if I am to fulfil the terms of my grandfather’s will.’

And there was no chance he would risk reneging on that, Danny thought, though now she’d met the people on the ranch she could understand why.

‘Will there be enough time to arrange everything?’ she asked with concern.

‘You knew the terms of our agreement before you left Scotland,’ Tiago said impatiently, ruffling his thick black hair.

‘Yes, but—’ She pulled herself up. ‘I hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon.’

‘I factored in the inconvenience element when I calculated your payment.’

His words hurt. Tiago could be charm personified, or he could be as he was now—a warrior, ruthless and driven, a man who had paid a lot for his bride. And now it was payback time.

She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a love-match but a marriage of convenience—for expediency, and to ensure her mother’s future as well as her own.

They were standing in a field where foals were grazing, and she guessed Tiago had brought her here on purpose, so she would be relaxed when he dropped the bombshell of their marriage happening by the end of the week. He must have known how quickly they would have to be married before they’d left Scotland, but had chosen not to tell her. Perhaps because he’d been worried that she’d change her mind.

Her hope for a happy-ever-after future had always been slim, but now it drained away into the ground.

Sensing her tension, Tiago wheeled around to pin her with a stare. ‘I thought I had explained quite clearly the urgency of this situation?’

‘You did.’ She was a ‘situation’ now.

‘We should get the contract signed.’

‘Yes.’

She would sign. She wouldn’t go back on her word. She would make the best of this situation, and commit to a life she couldn’t imagine. It would be a life with the man who had won her heart in Brazil, but a life in which she neither belonged, nor would be able to distance herself.

When Tiago started walking back towards the house his face was set. ‘Let’s get this thing done. I want you to check the contract over carefully—make sure you agree with all the terms before you sign.’

How cold-blooded could a wedding be?

She was about to find out.

She had always had such soft, romantic dreams about her wedding day...the wildflowers she would wear in her hair. Everyone would walk to the kirk in the village of Rottingdean and there would be a party afterwards in the village hall. Everyone would help out and contribute something. It would be such a happy day—a simple day, a precious day full of memories...the type of memories she would treasure for a lifetime.

That was her dream. The facts were somewhat different. It sounded as if there was going to be a rushed ceremony—possibly with witnesses she didn’t even know.

Tiago was striding ahead of her. His transformation into gaucho was complete. The unforgiving pampas had carved him. Even his clothes had changed. There was nothing designer about his clothes now—nothing of the playboy. He wore threadbare jeans with worn leather chaps over them, and a red bandana secured his wilful hair. His boots were tooled leather, and he carried a lethal-looking facón—the vicious knife that gauchos wore—hanging from their belt.

It was hardly possible to believe that this rock-like individual was the same sophisticate who had joked and laughed and made her feel good about herself on Chico’s ranch.

Tiago had stopped abruptly—but not to wait for her. He was staring at some horses in the field—evaluating them, counting them, maybe, though she suspected he knew every head of stock. Compared to his ranch, she was nothing. There were no sacrifices Tiago would not make, no lengths he would not go to, to keep this land.

She could always change her mind.

Could she? Signing this contract was a way forward for her—the best and perhaps the only way to secure her mother’s future.

* * *

‘Now you understand why I must do this,’ Tiago said with confidence as he laid the contract down in front of Danny on his desk. ‘You’ve only seen a fragment of the ranch, but enough to know that it must be saved.’

She wouldn’t disagree with him, Danny thought as she took her time to check the contract, line by line. It was everything she had asked for, everything she had read on the screen of his phone—not a line had been changed.

‘A year...’ she murmured, wondering if it would be a happy year, or a year of torment for them both. And then something mischievous occurred to her, right out of the blue. ‘How many relationships have you had that have lasted a year, Tiago?’

He narrowed his eyes and she could practically see his hackles rise. ‘I don’t understand what that’s got to do with this.’

‘How many?’ she pressed.

Raking his hair with an impatient gesture, he decided to ignore her question. ‘Are you going to sign this or not?’

She guessed he had never stayed with a woman for as long as a year. Tiago was sailing into uncharted waters as much as she was. If he had ever enjoyed a long-term relationship the press would have seized on it. What the press would make of their marriage she didn’t know—and didn’t care, either. This was a private arrangement between the two of them. The world would have to make of it what it wanted.

He held out his pen. She took it and signed her name, and Tiago countersigned the document after her. She stared at their signatures and felt cold inside. She had no idea what Tiago felt. Relief, certainly, but she doubted whether he felt anything more.

What had made him this way? she wondered. The polished playboy of the polo circuit seemed far happier and more relaxed here on his ranch, working alongside the gauchos. The thought that she had just contracted to marry a man she didn’t know did nothing to reassure her. She should have listened to those rumours of the lone wolf. If she had she wouldn’t be here now, with her heart yearning for a man who thought of her only as the means to an end.