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She was only there in her official capacity as a vet of course, but she couldn’t help glancing towards the spectators who were gathering in the stands. ‘How come the women are all so stunning?’ she wondered out loud. ‘And how do they achieve such straight hair? In this heat my hair just curls.’
‘You are looking at the elite of Buenos Aires,’ Eduardo replied, breaking off to shout instructions to one of the grooms before turning his attention back to Faith. ‘They would have spent the whole of the day preparing in the hope that they catch the boss’s eye.’
‘The boss?’ Faith glanced around her. ‘Raul Vásquez? He’s playing today isn’t he? Is he here?’
‘Not yet.’
‘But the game is due to start in five minutes.’ She couldn’t take her eyes off the women in the stands, her attention caught by the glint of diamonds against designer silk. They were like a flock of exotic birds. ‘They’re very dressed up considering they’re spending their afternoon around horses.’
‘This is polo,’ Eduardo drawled. ‘The most glamorous game in the world. Everyone dresses up.’
The men thundered onto the field on lithe, agile horses and Faith tried not to be overwhelmed by the sheer glamour of the spectacle.
She’d just stooped to examine a horse’s fetlock when she heard the noise of a helicopter in the air.
‘Here he comes,’ Eduardo murmured, glancing upwards and narrowing his eyes against the glare of the sun. ‘Match starts in two minutes. He’s cutting it fine as usual.’
Faith was too busy with the pony to pay any attention to the helicopter landing. ‘He isn’t fit.’
Eduardo frowned. ‘He’s the fittest man I’ve ever met.’
‘Not the boss, this pony!’ Faith stared at him in exasperation. ‘Does everyone here only think about Raul Vásquez?’
There was a sudden roar from the crowd and Faith realised that the game had started. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as horses and riders thundered down the pitch.
Before arriving in Argentina she’d never been to a polo match and the speed and danger of the game still left her breathless.
She turned to one of the grooms. ‘Which one is Raul Vásquez?’
‘The one taking all the risks,’ he muttered and Faith’s eyes narrowed as she turned her attention to the game.
From this distance it was impossible to distinguish anyone’s features under the protective helmet, but one man stood out from all the others. Lithe and muscular, he controlled his horse with one hand while he leaned out of the saddle to hook the ball, apparently indifferent to the danger inherent in such a manoeuvre.
Watching in disbelief, Faith braced herself for him to crash to the ground with disastrous consequences. He had to fall, surely? But with a mixture of sheer muscle-strength and athleticism, he stayed with the horse, swung his mallet with lethal accuracy and hit the ball through the posts.
The crowd erupted in ecstasy and Faith suddenly realised that she’d been holding her breath.
‘The tension of this game is unbelievable,’ she muttered and the groom grinned at her.
‘It is very aggressive, yes. But the horses love it.’
Turning her attention back to her job, Faith worked her way down the pony lines, checking each animal and talking to the grooms, and at half time one of the grooms tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Time to stomp the divets. It’s tradition. Everyone joins in.’
Spectators and players strolled onto the pitch and started treading in the lumps of turf that had been dislodged by the horses’ hooves. It was a social occasion, with much laughter and conversation, a chance for the audience to mingle with the players.
Faith stretched out her foot to push down a lump of grass but a large black boot was there before her and she glanced up into the laughing eyes of the man she’d been watching on the polo field.
Raul Vásquez.
The man from the river.
For a moment she just stared. Then she swallowed and her tongue seemed to tie itself into knots. ‘I didn’t know. You didn’t introduce yourself.’
‘I didn’t want to,’ he drawled softly and hot colour flooded her cheeks because he was just so, so attractive and although they were surrounded by beautiful, glamorous women, he was looking at her.
‘You should have told me who you were!’
‘Why? You might have behaved differently and I wouldn’t have wanted that.’ His smile was sexy, distracting and impossibly intimate.
‘How did I behave?’
He stamped down another piece of turf and his leg brushed against hers in a deliberate movement. ‘You were delightfully natural.’
She glanced around her at the poise and confidence of the women around her. ‘You mean I don’t spend all day being pampered. Why are you talking to me?’
‘Because you fascinate me.’
‘You prefer your women with no make-up and covered in dust?’
He laughed. ‘I’m interested in the person, not the package.’
‘Oh please!’ She stared up at his impossibly handsome face. ‘Are you seriously telling me that you would look twice at a woman who wasn’t stunning?’
‘No, I’m not telling you that.’ His eyes didn’t leave hers and she felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs.
‘You’re saying that—you’re implying that—’
‘Yes.’ His tone was amused. ‘I am. And you’re not usually short of a sharp reply. What’s the matter? Hasn’t anyone paid you a compliment before?’
The chemistry between them crackled and sizzled like a high-voltage cable and she was conscious of what seemed like hundreds of eyes looking at her. ‘Everyone is staring.’
‘And that matters because…?’
‘Well, you might be used to being the centre of attention, but I’m not.’ Not knowing what to say and frustrated with herself for being so gauche, she glared at him. ‘It doesn’t matter who you are, I still think you’re macho and sexist.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘You’re absolutely right, cariño. I am macho and sexist. And I want to spend some time with you. Come to the Beach House.’
The Beach House was his private residence, a beautiful architect-designed villa that faced the Atlantic coast and opened onto a perfect stretch of sand. And it was strictly out of bounds to the staff.
What exactly was he suggesting?
But one glance at his wicked dark eyes told her exactly what he was suggesting and the colour rushed into her cheeks like fire.
Unsettled by how much she wanted to say yes, Faith stepped away, conscious that all the women on the pitch were watching her enviously. How on earth was she supposed to say no to a man like him? Worried that part of her didn’t even want to say no, she spoke quickly before she could be tempted into doing something she just knew she’d regret. ‘No. But thanks.’
‘I wasn’t asking you a question.’
She was suddenly so aware of him that her entire body was burning inside. ‘You were giving me an order?’
His gaze was lazily amused. ‘A strongly worded request.’
She could hardly breathe. ‘I have a job to do. I’m working until ten.’
‘I’ll arrange for you to have the evening off.’
Just like that.
The power of a billionaire, Faith thought helplessly. ‘No. That wouldn’t be fair on the others.’ She was swamped with disappointment and suddenly wondered what she would have said if she hadn’t been working. Would she have gone with him? Her insides fluttered with nerves. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to postpone my Cinderella moment for another occasion. It’s Eduardo’s night off and we have a mare due to foal any minute. I can’t leave the yard.’
The humour died in his eyes and her words were met by a tense silence. ‘One of the mares is due to foal?’ Easy seduction was replaced by sharp efficiency. ‘Which one?’
‘Velocity.’
He inhaled sharply and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘If she is foaling then Eduardo should be here.’ His cool declaration punctured her bubble of happiness.
‘Well, thanks for that vote of confidence. Nice to know you trust me.’
‘It isn’t personal.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘You mean you’d feel like this about any woman?’
His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Velocity is my most valuable mare. This is an enormous responsibility,’ he said softly, and she lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye.
‘I can handle responsibility. I don’t spend my days straightening my hair and applying my make-up. I’ve trained for seven years so that I can meet the responsibility head-on.’ Suddenly she felt angry and frustrated. Maybe she’d been wrong to think she could pursue her career in this part of South America. It was an uphill battle to get anyone to take her seriously. ‘I can handle the work. What I can’t handle is dealing with men who don’t think women are capable of having a career.’ She was so upset she was afraid she might burst into tears. And that would undermine her credibility even further. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.’
Trying not to think about Raul Vásquez, she worked in the stables until ten. Then she went to check on the mare, Velocity, one more time before returning to her room in the staff quarters.
A single glance was sufficient for her to see that the mare was in difficulty.
The groom was in the corner of the stall, his hands shaking as he fumbled with his mobile phone. ‘I can’t get hold of Eduardo. He isn’t answering.’
‘You should have called me, not Eduardo.’ Faith dropped to her knees beside the horse. Cursing herself for relying on them to let her know how the mare was progressing, she reached for her stethoscope.
The groom was sweating. ‘You better not touch that horse. She’s the boss’s favourite mare. If anything happens to her…’ He broke off, panic in his eyes. ‘We need to get hold of Eduardo somehow. If anything happens to the animal, Raul Vásquez will hit the roof. I’ll lose my job.’
Faith gritted her teeth. None of the Argentine grooms had faith in her.
‘At the moment I don’t care about the boss’s temper or your promotion prospects, but I do care about the horse and you need to do as I tell you.’ Keeping her voice calm so it didn’t disturb the animal, Faith gave him a string of instructions but he just stood there, staring at the horse with terrified eyes.
‘If that mare dies—’
‘It will be my responsibility,’ Faith said coldly and then she sighed. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, just get out. If you can’t work with me, fine, but I need you to find someone who can. I need help and I need it now.’
‘I will help you.’ Raul Vásquez stood in the doorway of the box and the groom shrank into the shadows, too intimidated to even defend himself.
Faith was too worried about the mare to feel intimidated. With barely a glance in his direction, she told Raul what she wanted him to do and he immediately dropped to his haunches next to the mare and spoke to her softly in Spanish.
Faith had no idea what he said but his words had an immediate effect on the frightened animal and finally she was able to concentrate, which was just as well because it was the most difficult foaling she’d ever attended.
Finally the mare heaved a sigh and the foal slipped out onto the straw.
‘Clever girl,’ Faith breathed quietly and glanced up, suddenly aware that Raul was watching her intently.
‘I think you are the clever girl,’ he murmured quietly, a thoughtful expression in his dark eyes as he scanned her face with disturbing intensity. ‘I underestimated you and for that I apologise.’
The atmosphere in the box was charged with tension and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then she suddenly realised that he was wearing a dinner jacket. ‘I’m sorry I interrupted your evening,’ she said stiffly, hating herself for caring that he’d clearly found another woman with whom to spend his evening.
It could have been her.
Remembering the sleek, beautifully groomed women who had vied for his attention during the polo match, Faith wondered which of them had caught his attention. Then she gave herself a mental shake. It could never have been her. Men as rich, successful and handsome as Raul Vásquez wanted trophy women, not career women.
Descending back to earth with a bump, she gave a tired smile. ‘Your mare is going to be fine, Raul, but I’ll stay with her tonight just to make sure. Thanks for your help. It made all the difference.’
‘You are planning to sleep in my horse’s stall?’ At some point he had undone his top button and she caught a glimpse of bronzed male skin and a hint of curling dark hair.
‘Yes.’ Faith looked away quickly. He was impossibly masculine. ‘That way if anything happens, I’ll be here.’
He frowned sharply. ‘You have been working since six this morning.’
‘I’ll take tomorrow off. I don’t want to leave until I’m sure she’s all right.’ Her attention was back on the mare and her foal. ‘You should understand that. From what I’ve heard, you’re the original workaholic.’
‘That is different.’
‘Because you’re a man and I’m a woman? Don’t start that again, Raul.’ Suddenly exhausted, she just wanted him to leave so that she could stop dreaming. ‘I won’t leave halfway through a job. And you were obviously in the middle of dinner or something, so perhaps you’d better go back to the woman in question in case she gives up on you.’
There was a long silence. ‘You hide behind your job, don’t you?’ Raul asserted. ‘Why is that?’
‘I don’t hide. But I love my job, if that’s what you’re asking.’ She glanced at him briefly and then looked away again, her heart thumping and her mind spinning fairy-tales.
‘This thing between us—’ his voice was soft ‘—it frightens you, doesn’t it?’
She was too honest to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. ‘Yes, it frightens me. Because it’s not real. The mere idea of you and I is—’ She waved a hand. ‘It’s crazy. I mean, we couldn’t be more different. You’re used to women who spend all day making themselves beautiful. I’m a working girl. I love my career and I definitely don’t want a relationship.’
‘If you don’t want a relationship, then you are my perfect woman,’ he drawled softly. ‘What about fun, cariño? Do you object to having fun?’
The colour poured into her cheeks. ‘Raul—’
‘Why are you blushing? When it comes to your job you are supremely confident, but whenever we are alone…’ He stroked a leisurely finger down her cheek. ‘Why is it that you are so confident with my horses and so shy with me?’
‘Blame it on the testosterone again. I’m not used to macho men.’ She tried to make a joke, but he wasn’t smiling. Instead his gaze was curiously intent.
‘You are very inexperienced, aren’t you?’
‘I’ve had boyfriends,’ she muttered defensively and a smile played around his firm mouth.
‘But what about men, cariño? Men are a whole new experience for you, isn’t that right?’
She gazed at him, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. ‘What does “cariño” mean?’
