hoping this would please and reassure her. He wouldn’t risk anything going wrong now—not with so many witnesses on the ranch. His representative had already left to take the marriage certificate to the lawyers. The ranch was his, thanks to Danny.
When they reached the door he swept her into his arms and carried her across the threshold.
‘I didn’t know if you would do that,’ she said, laughing up at him, her face alive with happiness as he lowered her to her feet
‘I don’t forget anything where you’re concerned. Would you like me to help you out of your dress?’
Suddenly, she was shy. ‘If you could just unbutton it for me, please?’
Her voice was tight with nerves.
‘Whatever you want.’
This wasn’t the Danny he had enjoyed getting to know all over again—the girl who had already become an essential cog in the wheel that was Fazenda Santos. This was a girl who still harboured doubts and it was up to him to resolve them.
He had barely unfastened the last button when she picked up her skirts and fled up the stairs.
‘First on the right,’ he called after her. ‘The women have made a surprise for you.’
She paused and turned, hovering on the stairs. ‘Aren’t you coming up?’
‘Of course I am. This is our wedding night.’
Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she carried on, running to the first floor, while he held back. She reminded him of a wild pony—trapped and uncertain in its new circumstances.
‘Take your time...relax,’ he called up the stairs.
She disappeared out of sight without answering him.
The silence was heavy in the hall. Maybe that was why the shadow of doubt fell over him. He had been so certain that for this one year he could make Danny happy, and that when that year was over she would have everything she could possibly need and he would be free. But she was proving as elusive as a wisp of smoke that kept slipping through his fingers, which left him in the unique position of wondering if he could hold her for as long as a year.
* * *
Danny exclaimed with pleasure when she walked into the bathroom. The women had gone to so much trouble for her, with scented candles and fresh flowers strewn everywhere. She turned full circle, knowing that she didn’t deserve this. How could she, when her marriage was a charade? But to waste their preparations for her would be throwing their generosity back in their faces.
Releasing the hem of her dress, she let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Climbing into the bath, she sank into the warm, sudsy water and lay back, closing her eyes. She could hear a shower running somewhere close by. When it stopped she pictured Tiago stepping out, grabbing a towel and winding it around his body. She waited a few more seconds and then sat up.
Just in time. The door opened and he was there. Just as she had imagined, his powerful torso was naked, while his body was gleaming and barely dry.
‘You’re lucky,’ he said, smiling as he glanced around her fairy dell. ‘The women have really gone to town for you.’
Her heart beat faster as he strolled deeper into the room. He picked up a towel, unfolded it and held it out. She climbed out of the bath, naked and transfixed by his eyes. She had no doubts left. This had nothing to do with the contract. This was what she wanted.
Tiago wrapped her in a towel and lifted her into his arms. He carried her into his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Unlooping the towel from his waist, he let it drop. The room was silent apart from her breathing. The bed yielded to his weight with a sigh.
His muscles were formidable close up. She had never seen him naked before. His skin was deeply tanned to a rich bronze, and scarred from a lifetime of taking riding to the limits—maybe scarred from his youth too, she remembered, knowing he’d been wild.
She traced his tattoos, those brutal reminders of the Thunderbolts polo team, with an exclamation mark for emphasis—intended, no doubt, to strike fear into the team’s opponents. His stubble was thick, his hair was thick too, and his gold earring glinted in the light. He was like no man she’d ever seen before. He was the perfect barbarian. And he was her barbarian.
‘Slowly, chica,’ he advised as she pressed against him. ‘I’m big and you’re small.’
‘No...’ She smiled cheekily up at him.
But, yes, he was big—and she was small by comparison and she loved that. She loved the weight of his erection pressing against her thigh, and exclaimed softly when his hand found her.
‘Are you surprised?’ she murmured, when he raised a brow at how ready she was.
‘Not surprised,’ he growled as he moved over her, to start teasing her with his velvet-smooth tip.
‘You can’t do that,’ she complained. ‘You can’t tease me like that.’
‘Really?’ He smiled faintly. ‘I think you’ll find I can.’
A cry escaped her when he probed deeper, but he took his time and waited until he’d built her confidence. Then he moved a little more, a little deeper, stretching her beyond imagining, but his knowing fingers made her forget the shock of it.
‘Do you want me?’
‘You know I do,’ she forced out shakily
‘Deep?’
‘Yes,’ she confirmed.
‘Firmly?’ Tiago suggested, smiling, his lips brushing hers.
‘Please...’
‘Now?’
She cried out with pleasure as this big man, who looked so brutal but was so careful with her, took her smoothly until he was lodged deep. Then he rested, giving her a chance to recover from the invasion and catch her breath. She hung on to him, her hands clutching as she gasped with excitement. And then he cupped her buttocks, and that felt so good. It turned her on to think of those big, strong hands controlling her. He lifted her onto him and began to move with regular, dependable strokes, until she was whimpering in time with every one.
She reached her climax fast—too fast—and lost control with a throaty scream of shock. And then she was all melting, soaring, gliding on thunderclaps of sensation.
‘More?’ Tiago suggested when she was finally reduced to astonished sobs.
‘Please...’ She only needed that one word in her vocabulary, Danny concluded as she stared into Tiago’s eyes.
She pressed her mouth against his shoulder as he began to move again, faster now. She clung on tightly as the primal imperative to move with him, to work with him, claimed her.
‘Let me pleasure you,’ he encouraged huskily, opening her legs wider still.
‘Yes...’ she agreed. This was everything she had ever wanted,
