as a rule, did not touch her. To do so was to invite Joaquin to beat them senseless. And yet, Chance McDaniel had put his hands on her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She turned the horse until she could see Joaquin, who had indeed used the mounting block and was now sitting astride Beast. He gave her a look that said, “Are you okay?”
“I am fine,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure how true that was. “You?”
Joaquin looked down at the ground and managed to nod his head.
“You okay up there, big guy?” Chance came trotting out of the barn on a dappled gelding. When Joaquin nodded again, Chance asked, “What do you ride at home?”
“Joaquin rides an Andalusian and I prefer my Azteca, Ixchel.”
“I know what an Andalusian is, but what’s an Azteca?” As he asked, he pointed his horse away from the barn. Gabriella fell in stride next to him, with Joaquin bringing up the rear.
“A mix of Andalusian, quarter horse and Mexican crillo,” she explained. “Ixchel is a paint. She is a well-trained animal. I always wanted to show her, but...” That had been another source of rebellion when she’d been fourteen and fifteen. Other girls in her social circle were making weekend trips to competitions and talking of Olympic dreams—all activities that were forbidden to Gabriella.
“Why didn’t you?” Chance kept his gaze forward. His posture was relaxed, but she could hear something in his voice that was far more than casual curiosity.
“Papa said that the competitions were not secure enough and he could not guarantee my safety if I went.”
That got a reaction out of him. “Beg pardon?”
“Joaquin is an excellent bodyguard, but in a crowded space filled with horses and people, he cannot control the situation the way he can at Las Cruces. That’s our family estate,” she hurried to add.
“Wait, so—are you telling me that you don’t have a bodyguard because of what happened to Alex?”
She could not decide if she liked the confusion in his voice. On the one hand, it was quite clear that Chance McDaniel had not known that—which was good because it meant that he had not done any surveillance or research into the del Toro family’s comings and goings.
However, on the other hand, the way Chance said it made it clear that the idea of constant security sounded like more than a little overkill.
“Joaquin has been with me for fourteen years,” she said, knowing that would only add fuel to Chance’s curiosity.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. Mexico is not a safe place for the wealthy. People are kidnapped for exorbitant ransoms. It’s a business.”
He appeared to mull over this information as the trail lead them farther and farther away from the buildings. “Is that normal, then? To have a bodyguard for a decade and a half?”
“Oh, I have had a guard my entire life. Papa hired Joaquin after he bested my former guard, Raul.”
She felt as if she might be giving too much away—this was the sort of information that could be used to help formulate an abduction—but it didn’t feel as though she was feeding him the things he wanted to know. Instead he seemed genuinely shocked.
“What do you mean, ‘bested’?” His voice was level, but there was no mistaking the concern.
She warmed at his tone. Perhaps she shouldn’t find it comforting that he was worried about her. Perhaps this was him on a fact-finding mission about how the del Toro family operated.
But she didn’t think so. “All of the guards in our family have to withstand tests, if you will, of their ability to keep us safe. If they fail in their mission, they are replaced.”
Chance pulled his horse to an abrupt stop, which caused her horse to stop, as well. “What?” His tone was not pleased.
“It is not as bad as it sounds.” But this defense didn’t strike her as being particularly truthful.
“Doesn’t that scare the hell out of you?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “Usually the attempts are not very serious.”
“But not always.”
“No,” she replied softly. “Not always.”
The last time, the “pretend” kidnappers had taken their assignment a bit too seriously. Gabriella had been driving into Mexico City to meet with a gallery owner about showing her latest collection of jewelry when... Of course, their car was completely bulletproof, so Gabriella had not been in real danger. Or so she told herself time and time again.
“How bad was it?”
The sound of Chance’s voice—low and with a slight rasp to it—called her back from her fear. She looked into his eyes and again was struck with that odd sense of coming home. “Joaquin defended me with honor—as he always does.”
“How many times has this happened?”
The look on Chance’s face wouldn’t let her go. He was serious but underneath that was a different emotion—fury. “Usually once a year.”
Chance let loose with a string of curse words quite unlike anything Gabriella had ever heard—at least, not all at once. The sudden explosion of sound should have been alarming but instead Gabriella found herself grinning and then giggling. She cast a glance back at Joaquin, who was as impassive as ever.
“—lower than a rattler’s belly in a wagon rut!” Chance finished with a flourish. “Can you tell me why, on God’s green earth, a man would do that to his own daughter?”
“He had Alejandro’s guards tested, as well,” she told him, wondering when she had become the focus of his attention—and wondering if that was necessarily a warning sign. If it was, surely Joaquin would have rounded on Chance by now.
That statement did not seem to appease Chance’s temper. “You’ve got to be pulling my chain. Why?”
He didn’t know. She found a measure of relief in that—the more time she spent with Chance, the less she suspected him in Alejandro’s disappearance. Or, at the very least, the less she suspected him of targeting the del Toro family for its fortune. He may have still had a hand in Alejandro’s disappearance, but she could not believe that he had known that Alex Santiago was Alejandro del Toro.
Gabriella opened her mouth to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come. The memories were too hard to deal with, even after twenty-three years. But he sat there, still, those beautiful eyes of his staring at her, expecting an answer.
When she could not give him one, she turned her horse back up the trail and urged her to a fast walk.
Apparently, Chance was in no mood to let her walk away from him—even if it was on horseback. He came level with her in moments, his mount easily keeping pace with Gale. “Who?” he asked, his tone more gentle than before.
“Our
