Читать книгу Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride - Майя Блейк, Susan Stephens - Страница 10

CHAPTER ONE

THE FIST CAME out of nowhere and smacked her in the face. Flat on her back in the hay, reeling from shock and fighting off oblivion, she blanked for a moment and then fought like a demon. Cruel hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. Before she drew her next breath a powerful thigh was rammed between her legs. Terror clawed at her throat. Pain stabbed her body. The man was kneeling on top of her. She was alone in the stables, apart from the horses, and it was dark. The band at the wedding party was playing so loudly no one would hear her scream.

No way was she going to be raped. Not if she could help it, Danny determined.

Fear and fury gave her strength. But not enough!

She couldn’t fight the man. He was too strong for her. Pressing her down with his weight, he was grunting as he freed himself, breathing heavily in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Yanking her head from side to side, she looked for something—anything—to beat him off with. If only she could free one hand—

He laughed as she strained furiously beneath him.

She knew that laugh.

Carlos Pintos!

Everything had happened in a matter of seconds, blinding her to all but the most primal sense of survival, or she would have recognised her brutal ex. It sickened her to know that Pintos must have tracked her down to this remote village in the Highlands of Scotland. Were there no lengths he wouldn’t go to, to punish her for leaving him?

Coming here to Scotland, she’d been running home—running away from Pintos—running for her life. But no longer, Danny determined fiercely. She had escaped her brutal lover, and had no intention of giving way to him now. This was over.

As hate and fear collided inside her an anger so fierce it gave her renewed strength surged inside her. Bringing her knee up, she tried to catch him in the groin. But Pintos was too quick for her, and he laughed as he back-handed her across the face.

She recovered to find him braced on his forearms, preparing for his first lunge.

‘Boring then—boring now,’ Pintos sneered as a guttural sound of terror exploded from her throat. ‘Why don’t you admit you want me and give in?’

Never.

The only thing that made it through her frozen mind was that if ‘boring’ meant refusing the type of relationship Pinto had demanded, then, yes, she was boring.

‘Well?’ he sing-songed, sending her stomach into heaving spasms as he licked her face.

It had only been after she’d been going out with him for a while that Danny had discovered that Carlos Pintos, a big noise on the polo circuit, was a violent bully. He was always charming in public, and she had been guilty of falling under his spell, but he became increasingly vicious when they were alone. He must have used that same charm to get through security at the wedding.

Exclaiming with revulsion, she whipped her face away from his slavering tongue, knowing she had only one chance. With his weight advantage Pintos was over-confident, and he was taunting her by drawing this out. Gathering her remaining strength, she snapped up and rammed her head into his face.

With a yowl he reeled back, clutching his nose, blood pouring through his fingers. She lurched away, but the deep hay slowed her progress as she scuttled crab-like across the stable. Grabbing hold of the hay net on the wall, she hauled herself up and hit the bolt on the stable door. Barging through, head down, legs heavy and as weak as jelly, she lumbered forward, setting her sights on an exit that had never seemed further away.

* * *

Having escaped the wedding party, Tiago was taking a brisk stroll around the home fields of the vast Highland estate. As heir to a ranch in Brazil the size of a small country, casting a professional eye over farmland was second nature to him. His public face was that of an international polo player at the top of his game, but his private world was the wild pampas of Brazil, where he bred horses—a place where men were worthy of the name and women didn’t simper. The press called him a playboy, but he much preferred being outside in a challenging landscape like this to the cloying warmth of the crowded house.

Quickening his stride, he headed around the side of the house to the stables. His friend Chico had done well, marrying the heiress of this estate, though Chico had his own slice of Brazil to add to the pot, so it was a good marriage bargain all round. Chico intended to breed horses here as well as in Brazil—priceless ponies that might have been said to be the best in the world if Tiago’s hadn’t been better. He and Chico had often talked about expanding into the European market, and he could tell that this land had been primed and was ready for animals to raise their young in the spring.

Which was more than could be said for him, Tiago reflected dryly. Fulfilling his grandfather’s demand that he find a wife was still a work in progress. He liked his freedom too much to settle down. The press referred to his Thunderbolts polo team as a pack of rampaging barbarians. He gave the tag new meaning—though the public liked to think of him rampaging with a glass of Krug in his hand and a beautiful woman on his arm.

He relaxed as he came closer to the stables, where he would be as happy chatting to a horse as making small talk in the ballroom. The courtyard in front of the block was dimly lit, in contrast to the chandeliers set party-bright inside the grand old house.

He was halfway across the yard when the door to the stable block burst open and a small female, dressed in some flouncy creation, tumbled out.

‘What the—?’

Instead of reacting graciously as he ran to save her she screamed some obscenity at him and, grabbing hold of his lapels, roared at him like a tigress before angrily attempting to thrust him away. When this failed to make any impact she stepped back and, holding herself defensively, glared at him through furious eyes.

For a moment he didn’t recognise her, but then...

‘Danny?’

He knew the girl. She was the bride’s best friend, and a bridesmaid at the wedding. He’d first met her at Chico’s ranch in Brazil, where both the bride—Lizzie—and Danny had been studying horse-training under the heel of an acknowledged master of terrorising students: his friend and teammate Chico Fernandez.

‘What has happened here?’ he demanded as she continued to glare at him. She was panting as if she’d run a mile. Then he saw her face was badly bruised. ‘Deus, Danny!’

Moving past her, he stared into the darkened stable block. Nothing seemed to be out of place, so he turned back to her.

‘Danny, it’s Tiago from Brazil. Don’t you recognise me? You’re safe now.’

Battered and bruised she might be, but her eyes blazed at this last comment.

‘Safe with you?’ she derided.

Fair enough. If she believed his press, she probably should run for her life.

But she didn’t run. Danny stayed to confront him. She’d always had guts, he remembered, and had never been afraid to take him on when they’d met at Chico’s ranch. But what had happened here?

‘Why are you out here on your own?’ And where the hell was Security? he wondered, glancing around.

‘What’s it to you?’ As she spoke she touched the red bruise on her cheek.

‘Quiet, chica... You need help with this.’

‘From you?’ she demanded. And then she shrieked. ‘Watch out!’ and, giving him one hell of a push, she alerted him to the shadowy form looming behind them.

Shielding her with his body, he countered the attack and knocked the man out cold.

Carlos Pintos!

He loathed the man. Pintos gave polo a bad name. A cheat on the field of play, as well as in life, he was also Danny’s ex—who had brutalised her, by all accounts, he remembered now. Toeing the inert figure with the tip of his boot, he reassured himself that Pintos wasn’t going anywhere before calling Chico on his phone.

A few terse words later, he turned back to Danny.

‘Don’t,’ she said, holding up her hands as if to ward him off.

They’d had many a run-in during Danny’s time in Brazil, but theirs had always been a good-natured battleground, where he teased and she flirted. It had never gone any further than that.

‘Thank you would suffice,’ he commented mildly. ‘And please let me assure you that I have absolutely no intention of touching you.’

He was assessing her injuries as he spoke. Judging them superficial, he considered the subject closed—though the police would have to be alerted, and he would wait until he was sure Pintos was safely under lock and key.

‘Thank you,’ Danny muttered, frowning as she stared up at him from beneath her eyelashes.

Straightening his suit jacket, he brushed his hair back and then asked bluntly, ‘Did he touch you?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I can see the obvious bruises, but I think you know what I mean.’

Grimly, she shook her head. ‘He didn’t do what you’re thinking. You men all think the same.’

She was upset, but he wouldn’t stand for that. ‘Don’t tar me with the same brush as Pintos. And you still haven’t told me why you’re out here on your own.’

‘I was in the stable block checking out the horses,’ she explained grudgingly.

He didn’t believe her for a minute. Chico had staff to do that, and even Danny wasn’t so closely welded to her job.

‘I’ve lived here all my life,’ she murmured, ‘and I’ve always felt safe here. Nothing like this has ever happened before. And if you must know,’ she added, flashing a glance up at him, ‘I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think...away from the noise of the party.’

‘I can understand you wanting some quiet time,’ he agreed—he’d felt the same. ‘But times change, Danny.’

‘Yes,’ she said ruefully. ‘Everything changes. But I’m still here.’

He guessed she would miss her friend Lizzie now she had married Chico, and perhaps Danny’s scholarship to train horses in Brazil hadn’t been the golden ticket she’d hoped for. ‘It takes time to establish a career—especially a career with horses.’

‘And money,’ she said. ‘Lots of money that I just don’t have. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that I can’t have everything in life.’

‘You’re wrong. Look at me.’

She smiled at his arrogance, but he knew that self-confidence was the first step towards building any successful career. If he hadn’t believed in himself, who would have?

‘It’s possible for you to do this too,’ he said, and when she started to argue, he added, ‘I admit I was in the right place at the right time, but I worked all the hours under the sun for that luck—as you do. I always had a vision of what my future would hold. You have the same. So go for it, Danny,’ he advised. ‘Don’t hold back.’

If there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate it was bullies, and he hated seeing what Pintos had done to this woman—stripping away Danny’s spirit and leaving only the doubt underneath. He found himself willing his strength into her.

He’d never been in this position with a woman before; communicating with women on a serious level had never been necessary. His life was full of women, and he had never wanted this type of interaction with one of them. But to keep Danny steady after her ordeal, he continued on with his theme.

‘When we first met on Chico’s ranch in Brazil you wanted your own horse-training establishment. Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, but she was shaking her head. ‘I was idealistic then. I hadn’t thought through all the pitfalls ahead of me.’

‘And you think it’s been easy for me?’

His face was close. Her scent bewitched him. He was pleased when her flickering gaze steadied on his, telling him she was calming down.

“I worked hard and never gave up my dream. And neither must you, Danny. Never...never give up your dream.’

Her gaze strayed to Pintos.

‘Don’t look at him. Look at me.’

He was relieved when she did so.

‘Thank you.’ Her eyes were wide and wounded. ‘Thank you for reminding me what I want out of life, and that he has no part in it.’

‘Don’t thank me. You’re strong. You’ll get over this.’ He glanced at the creep on the floor. ‘He won’t be bothering you again. I promise you that.’

‘I’m all right—really,’ she insisted, with a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes.

She didn’t want his pity. He could understand that. Danny wasn’t the type to make a fuss. She didn’t cry, or cling to him. She’d been one of the boys in Brazil, only caring for her horses and for her best friend—today’s bride, Lizzie. She had always lifted everyone’s spirits on Chico’s ranch.

He glanced again at Pintos in disgust. The creep had been so eager to recapture Danny he had forgotten to do up his flies. ‘I’ll stay with you until Security arrives,’ he reassured her, seeing she was still frightened of the man. ‘I’ll hand Pintos over to them and then I’ll take you back to the house.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ she insisted, shaking her head as she hugged herself defensively.

‘There’s every need,’ he argued. ‘You shouldn’t be on your own tonight. And you should get checked over.’

She shook her head slowly, as if she were reliving events. ‘I can’t believe I let this happen.’

‘You didn’t let this happen, Danny,’ he said firmly. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’

She glanced at him then, as if seeking reassurance. ‘Maybe I should take it as a sign that my time here’s done.’

‘Then don’t stay,’ he said with a shrug. ‘But just promise me you won’t make any hasty decisions while you’re upset.’

‘Upset?’ she scoffed. ‘I’m over it.’

He doubted that. ‘Good, but please sleep on it, and see how you feel in the morning. Maybe you’ll feel differently then.’

‘Or maybe I’ll think Clean page, new story.’

‘That’s also a possibility,’ he conceded.

‘But I can’t run away,’ she said softly, almost to herself. ‘I can’t run away from Carlos or from anything else.’

‘You don’t have to,’ he reassured her. ‘Change doesn’t always involve running away. Think carefully before you make any life-changing decisions. And don’t go wandering around on your own in the dark in future.’

‘Why?’ Her eyes cleared suddenly and she repaid him with a piercing look. ‘Because you won’t be around to save me?’

He met that stare and held it. ‘That’s right. I won’t.’

* * *

Danny’s feelings were in an uproar. Yes, she was shocked by what had happened in the stable, but standing next to Tiago Santos was incredible, and unreal, and incredibly unsettling even without having Carlos Pintos at her feet. She had been violently attracted to Tiago in Brazil. From the very first moment she had felt a connection between them, and it was still there.

Which only proved what a hopeless judge of men she was, Danny reflected. Tiago was a notorious playboy, and when they’d first met she had treated him as such—teasing him, yes, because that was in her nature, but keeping a safe distance from him, all the same. And now Tiago was handing out life advice. Was he the best person to do that?

Surprisingly, tonight she would say yes—because tonight he was talking to her as Lizzie would, and his concern for her appeared to be genuine.

‘Security’s here,’ he announced as two guards ran up. ‘We’ll go back to the house as soon as we’ve spoken to the police.’

‘I don’t need a chaperon, Tiago,’ she stressed.

‘That’s good, because I’m not for hire.’

‘Why don’t you go back to the party?’ she suggested, having no inclination to jump from the frying pan into the fire. ‘I feel really bad, keeping you here.’

‘You’re not keeping me,’ he insisted. ‘We’ll go back together. I have to know you’re safe.’

‘How much harm do you think can come to me between here and the front door?’

Tiago’s answer was to stare at her in a way that told her he wouldn’t be dissuaded, and in spite of his all too colourful reputation she had to admit she did feel safe with him. And she had to get over her schoolgirl crush fast, Danny cautioned herself. Tiago Santos was not for her.

‘Just a few more minutes,’ he said, staring at her with concern.

She smiled back at him, recognising that soothing, husky, faintly accented tone as the same voice he’d used to soothe his ponies in Brazil.

‘You don’t have to come back to the party, Danny. I’ll make your excuses for you.’

‘No, you won’t,’ she argued firmly.

Tiago raised a cynical brow over eyes that were dark and piercing. He was such a good-looking man it was impossible to remain immune to him. And he could read her like a book. He always had been able to.

The course she’d taken in Brazil had been so hard, and Tiago was a hugely successful polo international. She had always tried that little bit harder when he’d come to watch her working in the training ring. Her pride was holding her up now. He knew how shaken she was, but she didn’t want him to think her weak.

As the seconds ticked by she longed for the sanctuary of her room. This situation was unreal, and she wanted nothing more than to strip off and stand beneath a shower, scrubbing every inch of her body clean. She had to get rid of Carlos’s touch, and then hopefully forget she had ever been so stupid as to take up with a man like him in the first place.

She glanced at Tiago as he gave instructions to the security guards, thinking how different he was. Tiago’s command of the situation was reassuring. He was everything the sorry excuse for a man at their feet was not.

Did the fates see any humour in the situation? she wondered. Tiago Santos, the world’s most notorious playboy, was no playboy but a protector—strong and caring. He might look dangerous, but his character was different from the way it was described in his press.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he called after her as she started back to the house.

‘We’ve spoken to the police. Pintos has gone—’

‘I’m heading your way, remember?’ he said, catching up with her. ‘Go straight up to your room and I’ll tell Lizzie what’s happened.’

‘No, you won’t. Lizzie’s been upset enough tonight. She must have noticed I’m missing. She will have seen the lights of the police cars. This is her day, not mine. Let’s not spoil it for her,’ she said, desperate not to ruin Lizzie’s day. ‘Just tell her the fuss is over and there’s nothing for her to worry about. Say I went to check on the horses and lost track of time. Tell her I tripped in the mud and had to clean myself up—I’ve gone upstairs to change my clothes and I’ll be back at the party soon.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ Tiago promised. ‘But I won’t lie to her. Danny, you can’t pretend nothing’s happened,’ he insisted when she scowled at him.

‘That’s not what I asked you to do. What?’ she demanded impatiently, when Tiago continued to stare at her.

A faint smile touched his mouth. ‘You might not be able to keep it a secret.’

‘Why not?’

‘You won’t win any beauty contests tonight.’

She touched her face and groaned, remembering the bruises. She’d forgotten about them.

‘Do you have anything you can put on them?’ Tiago asked with concern.

‘I’m sure there’ll be something in the house.’

‘Maybe I should call a doctor for you?’

‘A doctor won’t come out at this time of night—and why would we trouble one? Thank you for your concern—seriously, Tiago—but it’s only a bruise, and bruises fade.’

‘And you don’t have to be strong all the time,’ he fired back.

‘What’s it to you?’ Biting back tears, and hating herself for the weakness, she confronted him in the way they had squared up to each other on so many occasions on the ranch in Brazil.

It was a terrible mistake to stare into Tiago’s eyes. Her awareness of him only grew. But she couldn’t allow him to patronise or pity her, if only because it was so dangerous to wonder, even for a second, how it might feel to have a man like Tiago Santos care for her.

The first thing she had to do was get over tonight. Bruises would fade, but the disappointment she felt in herself for not progressing her career as she would have liked, for not moving away from her home town, and most of all for getting mixed up with a man like Carlos Pintos, would take a lot longer.

‘I should thank you properly,’ she said, remembering her manners belatedly. If nothing else, Tiago had been her saviour tonight.

He shrugged it off. ‘No medals, Danny. They’d only spoil my suit.’

He could always make her smile. The playboy was still in him, beneath that white knight’s shining armour. She must never allow herself to forget that Tiago Santos possessed a glittering charm that had led many women astray. She must never be guilty of romanticising that charm, because there was another man underneath it.

Brutal tattoos showed beneath the crisp white cuffs of Tiago’s immaculate dress shirt, and a gold earring glinted in what light there was. This was not some safe, mild-mannered man—a white knight racing to rescue the damsel in distress—but Tiago Santos: the most infamous barbarian of them all.