Dreaming Of... Brazil: At the Brazilian's Command / Married for the Prince's Convenience / From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride. Susan Stephens
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She couldn’t have been further off-beam. Tiago’s home was a stunning example of an old-style ranch house, though it certainly boasted every conceivable modern facility. In spite of its size he had managed to make his home cosy. Mellow wood predominated, along with all the colours of the earth—russet, ochre, claret and dusky blue—which, with the wooden floors and ethnic wall hangings, gave the old house a prosperous look and an ambience she found as alluring as Tiago.
She should have known he would live comfortably, Danny reflected as she walked to the window to stare out down the long, impressive drive. The gates had been the first giveaway that she was entering somewhere really special. They were impressive, carved out of centuries-old wood, and they had opened on to a scene of well-ordered prosperity. The drive up to the house was broad and long, and impeccably groomed, with paddocks full of horses either side. Immaculate farm buildings stood in the distance, together with a host of other facilities she had yet to name.
But even the buildings hadn’t impressed her as much as Tiago’s wonderfully welcoming staff. They’d shown her nothing but warmth and enthusiasm since the moment she’d arrived, and she had noticed Tiago’s face lighting up like a flame when he had received their smiling welcome to his home.
‘These are my people, Danny,’ he had told her, with such pride in his voice.
She’d never seen him so animated. And then he’d made the introductions, leading her by the hand as if they were already married. Whatever reservations she’d had about their unusual arrangement had faded then. How was she supposed to keep her heart out of this, surrounded by such warmth?
But she wasn’t an employee, and she wasn’t Tiago’s fiancée either. She was in an odd position, Danny mused as she continued to explore her accommodation. There was a lavish dressing room that had obviously been equipped in anticipation of visitors with a far more sophisticated lifestyle than she had. She wondered again what Tiago’s staff must make of her, and then put it out of her mind. It was up to her to form a bond with this place, and with its people, and an arbitrary title wouldn’t help her to do that.
What she loved most, Danny decided, turning full circle, was the lack of ostentation. There was just sheer quality everywhere she looked. Inside, the house was perfect, while outside the emerald-green pampas beckoned.
Her bathroom wouldn’t have been out of place in the most sumptuous hotel. The cream marble was veined with honey, and there were more fluffy towels than she could count. She paused to stare out of the bathroom window, from where she had a good view of the rolling paddocks and the formal gardens surrounding the house. They had flown over Tiago’s ranch for miles, he had explained, before he’d brought the jet in to land.
She had been shipwrecked on a desert island fit for a queen.
Her upbeat mood changed abruptly when she remembered Tiago’s parting words. Even here, in this cosy suite of rooms, a shiver ran through her. She had been telling him how much she loved his home when he’d replied, ‘This is what money can buy, chica. This is what you can buy now.’
It all came down to the ranch for Tiago, and he thought she felt the same about money.
* * *
When Tiago returned from his tour of the ranch everything moved towards the wedding at breakneck speed.
‘I had wanted time for you to get used to your surroundings,’ he explained the next morning with a careless gesture, ‘but there is no time. The clock is ticking. I must marry before the week is out if I am to fulfil the terms of my grandfather’s will.’
And there was no chance he would risk reneging on that, Danny thought, though now she’d met the people on the ranch she could understand why.
‘Will there be enough time to arrange everything?’ she asked with concern.
‘You knew the terms of our agreement before you left Scotland,’ Tiago said impatiently, ruffling his thick black hair.
‘Yes, but—’ She pulled herself up. ‘I hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon.’
‘I factored in the inconvenience element when I calculated your payment.’
His words hurt. Tiago could be charm personified, or he could be as he was now—a warrior, ruthless and driven, a man who had paid a lot for his bride. And now it was payback time.
She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a love-match but a marriage of convenience—for expediency, and to ensure her mother’s future as well as her own.
They were standing in a field where foals were grazing, and she guessed Tiago had brought her here on purpose, so she would be relaxed when he dropped the bombshell of their marriage happening by the end of the week. He must have known how quickly they would have to be married before they’d left Scotland, but had chosen not to tell her. Perhaps because he’d been worried that she’d change her mind.
Her hope for a happy-ever-after future had always been slim, but now it drained away into the ground.
Sensing her tension, Tiago wheeled around to pin her with a stare. ‘I thought I had explained quite clearly the urgency of this situation?’
‘You did.’ She was a ‘situation’ now.
‘We should get the contract signed.’
‘Yes.’
She would sign. She wouldn’t go back on her word. She would make the best of this situation, and commit to a life she couldn’t imagine. It would be a life with the man who had won her heart in Brazil, but a life in which she neither belonged, nor would be able to distance herself.
When Tiago started walking back towards the house his face was set. ‘Let’s get this thing done. I want you to check the contract over carefully—make sure you agree with all the terms before you sign.’
How cold-blooded could a wedding be?
She was about to find out.
She had always had such soft, romantic dreams about her wedding day...the wildflowers she would wear in her hair. Everyone would walk to the kirk in the village of Rottingdean and there would be a party afterwards in the village hall. Everyone would help out and contribute something. It would be such a happy day—a simple day, a precious day full of memories...the type of memories she would treasure for a lifetime.
That was her dream. The facts were somewhat different. It sounded as if there was going to be a rushed ceremony—possibly with witnesses she didn’t even know.
Tiago was striding ahead of her. His transformation into gaucho was complete. The unforgiving pampas had carved him. Even his clothes had changed. There was nothing designer about his clothes now—nothing of the playboy. He wore threadbare jeans with worn leather chaps over them, and a red bandana secured his wilful hair. His boots were tooled leather, and he carried a lethal-looking facón—the vicious knife that gauchos wore—hanging from their belt.
It was hardly possible to believe that this rock-like individual was the same sophisticate who had joked and laughed and made her feel good about herself on Chico’s ranch.
Tiago had stopped abruptly—but not to wait for her. He was staring at some horses in the field—evaluating them,