Читать книгу The Spaniard's Untouched Bride - Maisey Yates - Страница 11

CAMILLA STRAIGHTENED AND wiped her brow, looking out over the now familiar fields of the Navarro rancho. In the two months since she had come into Matías’s employ, the place had become close to home. Of course, it couldn’t compare to the Alvarez rancho. She had lived there for twenty-two years, and she couldn’t imagine anywhere feeling like home the way that it had.

Sometimes she ached with the desire to walk through that familiar front door, to feel the red stone floor beneath her feet, the places where it was imperfect. Where it bowed and cracked from years of wear. It was like a familiar friend, and it was gone. She could never have it again.

But at least she had the horses.

It was a tricky thing, though, getting access to Fuego. Matías had refused to allow anyone but his most trusted handler and himself to get anywhere near him. Of course, he was proving to be difficult. Camilla had known he would be. Because he was a difficult animal.

But she had opted to keep herself mostly out of Matías’s vision. She had not seen the point in drawing attention to herself, but it was becoming clear that if she wanted to have anything to do with Fuego she was going to have to assert herself.

A difficult thing, since the assumption was that she was a fourteen-year-old boy, simply doing work in exchange for board on the property.

Very few questions had been asked, and for that she was grateful. She had done a bit more digging about Matías and had discovered that he was generous with his employees. That he had a soft spot for troubled youth and made putting them to work something of a mission.

In spite of his family’s difficult reputation, Matías himself seemed to be a good man. When she ignored that little doesn’t hire women thing.

But she had found a workaround. She had decided to play the part of a troubled youth, fallen through the cracks and likely to end up sleeping on the streets if not for the kindness of the Navarro estate.

It was true enough. She had very few options available to her at the moment. She had no money.

And she was, in fact, qualified for the job she had been hired to do.

All in all, her solution was a reasonable one. So, perhaps concealing her gender might be considered less than reasonable.

But with her hair cut short, and baggy clothes over her rather straight up and down figure, no one questioned it.

In part, she imagined, because very few people looked directly at her. Much less Matías Navarro.

Or his beautiful, birdlike fiancée, who had come to live at the estate just last month. She was a lovely creature and reminded Camilla very much of her mother. She had cascading waves of curling blond hair, pale blue eyes and alabaster skin. Anytime she went out onto the rancho she took extensive breaks to stand in the shade and slather her body with sunscreen.

Matías seemed solicitous of her, often putting his hand on her lower back, or taking hold of her arm, as if the woman would fall onto her face on the uneven terrain if he did not hold on to her in some fashion.

Camilla wondered what it might be like to have someone treat her like that. No one had ever been gentle with her. Her father had treated her as though she were the son he didn’t have. Had allowed her freedom, had encouraged hard labor. Her mother had treated her like an irritation. She had preferred the former.

But no one had ever made her feel precious. No one had ever made her feel fragile.

She sniffed and shrugged her shoulders upward, going back to the task of shoveling manure.

She would rather have this than be cloistered away in that giant manor house. Would rather be out in the sun, out where it smelled like hay and horse and grass.

She looked up and squinted. Judging by the position of the sun, it was about time for Matías to make his rounds. That meant he would be coming out to the stables, likely attempting to take Fuego into the arena to be lunged.

Historically, that had not gone well.

Camilla had watched through a crack in the door of the stable, whenever she had the opportunity. Whenever she wouldn’t get caught by the foreman and scolded for being idle. She wouldn’t do well at all to get fired.

She scampered over to the end of the stable and took her typical position. And then her breath caught.

There was Matías, walking into the arena with Fuego on a lead. Fuego was as beautiful as ever, his coat glossy beneath the late-afternoon sun. He tossed his head, already telegraphing his irritation with the situation, his ears listing backward.

Then her eyes slid to Matías. And everything inside her seemed to freeze.

He was stunning in his own right and reminded her in many ways of the animal he was attempting to tame. His black hair was pushed back off his forehead, his skin bronzed and gleaming. His chest was broad, his white shirt unbuttoned down to the center of his chest, the sleeves pushed up past powerful forearms. He was wearing tan breeches that molded to lean hips and powerful thighs, to say nothing of...other parts of him.

Camilla had been around jockeys her entire life. Typically, they were slightly built, all the better to ride quickly. And she knew that Matías did not race for that very reason. It wasn’t practical. A man well over six feet tall with such a heavy build could never compete with other racers.

No, Matías was not a jockey. Therefore, the sight of him in those breeches was...a different experience. And one she was not accustomed to, no matter that she had grown up at a stable.

Matías and his foreman switched out the horse’s lead for a lunging rope, and Matías stepped backward, moving to the edge of the arena, a whip in his hands, which would be used, not to harm the animal, but to signal changes in what he desired Fuego to do. When he wanted him to change his gait, when he wanted him to stop, or turn.

But, as had happened every time in the past couple of months, Fuego balked. He more than balked. He reared, nearly turning himself over onto his back. Camilla felt a spike of rage, and before she knew what she was doing she was tearing out of the stable and heading toward the arena.

Her face was on fire, her heart beating quickly, and this time it had nothing to do with Matías’s breeches.

“Tonto!” she shouted. “You know he doesn’t like it. And you insist on doing it. He’s going to injure himself.”

It took her a moment to realize what she had just done. That she had just shouted at the master of the domain, while in his domain. That she had just undone two months of attempting to go unnoticed by rendering herself as conspicuous as possible.

“I see,” Matías said, taking too long strides across the arena and heading toward her. “You fancy yourself a great trainer, do you?”

Those dark eyes pinned her to the spot, her feet nearly growing down into the grass as he moved to the edge of the fence. She took a step backward, with great effort, trying to put some distance between herself and her formidable boss.

“Not great, perhaps,” she said, attempting to keep her voice low and steady. “But I know the horse.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I came here...” She desperately tried to improvise. “I did not lie when I said that I would have no home if I wasn’t hired.” She cast a look at the rancho foreman just to be sure that he was listening. So that he could corroborate at least that part of her tale. “I came from the Alvarez rancho. I’m familiar with Fuego. I can work with him.”

“You’re only just now telling us this?” Matías asked, shooting his foreman an appointed glare.

“Don’t blame Juan. I didn’t tell him. I was afraid to draw attention to myself. But now I see that Fuego is not going to acclimate to this new environment. Or to new trainers. I could ride him.”

Matías leaned over, resting those strong forearms over the top rail of the fence. “I am to believe that Cesar Alvarez allowed a scrawny boy to ride one of his most prized horses? That this beast responds to you?”

“That’s right,” she said, tilting her chin upward. “I have a way with him.”

She had always had a way with difficult horses, just like her father had. It was a gift. One that Cesar Alvarez had believed you either had or didn’t. He had told her it was in her DNA, as it was in his.

It had been their sole point of connection. Her father had been entirely invested in the rancho, and anyone who loved him had to love that place just as much. And she did. She very much did.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near that animal.”

“Why not?” she asked. “What do you have to lose?”

“It’s not so much what I stand to lose as what I don’t want to have to cope with. I would rather not have to respond to an inquiry over a foolish boy breaking his neck on my rancho.”

“I’m not going to break my neck,” Camilla said. “But Fuego might snap a limb if you continue to handle him like this. I hear that you’re very good with horses, Señor Navarro, but I have not yet seen it.”

“You think insulting your boss is the way to long-term employment?”

“I assume that you are a man who would appreciate honesty. You are allowing your pride to get in the way of making the most of your animal, and I daresay I have seen it many times before.”

One of Matías’s dark brows shot upward. “Many times?”

“Yes. During the year I was employed with Cesar Alvarez. There were a lot of rich men with animals they could not handle.”

“I’m a horseman,” Matías said. “Not simply a rich man.”

“You are a businessman primarily. That is nothing to be ashamed of, but it does mean that your focus is split.”

Then Matías did something she did not expect. He laughed.

“All right then, boy. Come into the arena and show me what you can do.”

Matías could not believe the unmitigated gall of the youth standing rooted in the grass only a few feet away from him. He could not be older than fourteen, and he spoke with the kind of boldness that grown men did not have in his presence. Although, in many ways that made sense.

Fourteen was that sort of age. When a boy could have all the bravado in the world, and not be aware of what consequences might befall him.

Matías was certain he had been similarly brash at that age. In all actuality at thirty-three he was still as brash, it was just that when you were a billionaire with limitless funds and no small amount of power, it was not considered brashness. It was simply considered reasonable.

He was a man of responsibility also, and one who—unlike the rest of the men in his family—cared about doing what was right. He cared about the ranch. About the village the ranch supported.

His abuelo was currently playing games with it. But Matías wasn’t to be trifled with. The old man had pitted Matías and his older brother Diego against each other, saying they had to comply with specific terms, and whichever of them managed in an allotted time frame would get their share of the ranch and the family assets upon the old man’s death.

If they both complied, they would get half each.

But if only one did...to the victor went the spoils.

Matías had no doubt he would be the one to win. Marriage was one of his grandfather’s stipulations, and Matías had secured his union to Liliana Hart a couple of months earlier. He had known her casually for years. Had seen her at various functions with her parents, and her father had indicated he wouldn’t be opposed to the union and Matías had seen it as an opportunity.

That was the sort of man he was. Decisive. Not opportunistic in the way his grandfather or brother were. He did things right.

And he reaped rewards for it.

He had expected the youth to back down the moment he had realized the manner of the man he was coming at. But he had not. Which Matías could only grudgingly admire.

The boy followed his command, moving closer to the arena, a scowl on his face.

Matías looked over at Fuego, his tempestuous new acquisition. The horse possessed the ability to be great. Matías knew it. He was an excellent judge of horseflesh. He was also an extremely skilled trainer. But the animal had refused to come to heel, no matter how long and hard Matías worked with him.

Though it galled him to admit the boy was correct, he was. Matías was also a businessman, and his work often demanded that he spend time away from the rancho. That meant having others work with the horses in his stead.

His family was an old one in Spain, and had been breeding champions for generations. But it had long ceased to be their primary source of income. And Matías was involved in various retail conglomerates across the world, his business centered in London, not in Spain.

Though he had achieved a level of status that allowed him to work from wherever he wanted, as various other business associates and dignitaries would meet with him wherever he chose, it still required a fair amount of travel.

So yes, in that way, this urchin boy was correct. The fact that Matías was a businessman did keep him from dedicating everything he had to the animals.

Matías regarded the boy as he walked over to the animal, who immediately seemed to still in his presence. If he had not, Matías would never have allowed the boy to get any closer. He hadn’t lied when he said he was not going to subject himself to an inquiry over a teenage boy’s stupidity.

Completely unafraid, the boy lifted his hand and brought it to Fuego’s nose. The horse sniffed his hand and seemed to find him familiar. For he stilled, almost immediately. The boy grabbed the rope, close to the bridle, and then looked over at Matías, nodding his head once, in a clear bid for Matías to drop his end.

Matías complied.

The boy leaned into the horse, pressing his face against the horse’s nose, stroking him gently and speaking to him in soft tones that Matías could not readily understand.

As if by magic, the horse quieted.

Then the boy turned to look at Matías. “I didn’t lie to you. Fuego knows me. Now, he’s not going to perform perfectly right away. He didn’t always obey me. But I can ride him. I can work with him. And I can make it so that someone else can ride him, as well. Which is what you need if you want him to be able to race. As it is, his temperament is too hot. And the fact that no one can manage it makes it impossible. I can make him manageable. I will never make him well behaved, but manageable I can accomplish. And I assume your jockeys are strong enough riders to go from there.”

“This is unprecedented,” Matías said, looking over at Juan. “I do not allow children to train my animals.”

“And yet,” Juan responded, “clearly Cesar Alvarez did.”

Matías looked back over at the boy, who was regarding him with rather hopeful eyes. “Fine. Whatever your duties are, you’re relieved of them. Fuego is now your responsibility. Fernando Cortez is going to be the jockey that we use for him, so eventually you’re going to be working with Fernando. But you may start by yourself.”

“Good,” the boy said, tilting his face upward.

He suddenly looked a bit older than Matías had thought originally. But perhaps that was the bravado again.

“Then it is good,” he responded.

He moved over to the edge of the fence. Matías nodded once, signaling the boy to proceed.

The boy paused, then stared at him. “Don’t you want to know my name?”

“If I know your name will you become a better horse trainer?” Matías asked.

“No,” the boy said, blinking. “I don’t suppose.”

“Then I do not care to know your name.”

The boy said nothing but set about silently moving Fuego through his paces. The horse was jumpy, skittish, but not completely immovable as he had been when Matías had attempted the same.

There was no denying that the boy had a way with the horse. And if Matías wanted him trained in time, he was going to have to allow the boy to step in. The last thing he wanted to do was mishandle such a magnificent creature.

Acquiring Cesar Alvarez’s stock had been a boon for him, and he was not about to waste it.

“What about the other horses from the Alvarez rancho?” Matías called. “You are familiar with them, as well?”

“All of them,” the boy said, not looking over at Matías. “I have worked with all of them.”

“You will work with all of them here,” he said, decisive now. “My trainers keep logs. Juan will show you the proper way to do this. That way I can read about your progress without having to speak to you. As I prefer it.”

“Of course, señor,” the boy said.

“It is because I’m a businessman, and not simply a horseman,” Matías said.

He could have sworn he saw a smile curve the boy’s lips. “Of course, señor.”

Matías turned away, smiling. It was possible that now he had the break he needed to make this animal profitable for him. It seemed as though everything was finally going his way. His engagement to Liliana was cemented. Though she was staying in her own quarters, rather than coming into his.

She had found the transition in their relationship to be a fast one. From a business associate of her father’s to his fiancée. And it was clear she required a bit of time to adjust.

He didn’t mind. He was a patient man, in all things.

He began to walk back toward the ranch house.

He would fulfill his grandfather’s requirements, and the control of the vast family estate would be his at last. A wife. A champion racehorse.

The old man should have known better than to challenge Matías Navarro. Because with him, challenges never went unanswered.

Matías would win this battle with the old man. He knew no other way.