At the Brazilian's Command. Susan Stephens

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At the Brazilian's Command - Susan Stephens Mills & Boon Modern

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style="font-size:15px;">      ‘I’m still a tomboy, Senhor Santos.’

      ‘Tiago, please,’ he murmured, in a husky whisper that raised every tiny hair on the back of her neck.

      She couldn’t deny she was disappointed to learn that Tiago still thought of her as a tomboy. She was a woman—a woman with needs. She was a confused woman, still recovering from the shock of an attack, but sufficiently recovered to know how deeply this man affected her. And dance was the perfect outlet for her emotions. Dance was a means of expression when words wouldn’t come.

      When the music faded and the band took a break she felt awkward suddenly, and glanced longingly towards the exit, where the double doors were open wide.

      ‘Have you had enough?’ Tiago asked.

      She flashed a glance up at him. ‘I’m sorry—am I being so obvious?’

      ‘Too much too soon for you, I think,’ he said wisely.

      Once again that intuition of his was a warning of how easily he could read her. Tiago was too much too soon, and always would be, Danny suspected. If she had known how it would feel to be in his arms, how she would feel, she would never have agreed to dance with him.

      ‘I do have one suggestion,’ he murmured.

      ‘Yes?’ She glanced up and felt her heart turn over.

      ‘Just wait a moment before you go. The DJ has taken over from the band, so have one more dance with me.’

      She was just basking in the idea that Tiago enjoyed dancing with her when he spoke again.

      ‘That way it will give Chico enough time to make Lizzie forget everything—including you.’

      Danny’s eyes flashed wide. His comment had stung. That was what happened when she dropped her guard around Tiago Santos. But he was right. She had to let her friend go and move on.

      ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind dancing with me?’ There were so many much prettier girls in the room.

      ‘I’m sure,’ Tiago confirmed with an amused look.

      This was the type of thing she would have liked to discuss with Lizzie. They had both led such hectic, fractured lives as children, and had protected each other until their lives had been sewn together again by Lizzie’s grandmother and by the housekeeper, Annie, both of whom had been determined that neither child would suffer because of their less than responsible parents.

      ‘Shall I get you out of here?’ Tiago suggested, after a short time longer on the dance floor.

      She refocused fast. ‘Sorry—was I frowning?’

      ‘Yes,’ he confirmed with amusement. ‘I’m disappointed you can’t concentrate on me.’

      ‘Maybe that’s why I’m frowning,’ she suggested with a wry smile.

      ‘Now I’m hurt.’

      She doubted that. And she was willing to bet Tiago knew everything she was thinking. But she was starting to feel the strain of keeping up a bright and breezy front after what had happened in the stable.

      ‘Are you serious about getting me out of here?’

      ‘Absolutely,’ Tiago said, steering her towards the door.

      The other couples on the dance floor quickly closed over the gap they’d left and it was as if they’d never been there, Danny thought as she glanced over her shoulder.

      ‘Don’t look round,’ Tiago advised. ‘Keep on walking. No one will notice we’re leaving—I’m thinking of Lizzie now—unless you draw attention to yourself.’

      They wove their way through the tables with Tiago’s hand resting lightly in the small of her back. His touch was like a lightning transmitter and the force field didn’t let up—not even when he drew to a halt in the shadows beneath the staircase in the hall.

      ‘I’ll see you to your room,’ he said.

      She shook her head decisively. ‘There’s no need for that.’

      ‘But I insist.’

      The only explanation she could give for not putting up a better fight was that she was still in a state of shock. Why else hadn’t she resisted his suggestion?

      When they reached her bedroom door and Tiago opened it for her, he stood back.

      ‘Goodnight, Danny.’

      She held her breath as he ran one fingertip lightly down her cheek.

      Why had he done that?

      ‘Try to get some sleep,’ he suggested gently before she could process that thought. ‘This has been quite a night for you.’

      In every way, she thought, still tingling from his touch as Tiago turned away.

      ‘Goodnight, Tiago. And thank you...’

      She watched him go, and only when his footsteps had faded and disappeared did she realise she was still holding her breath.

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