The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс
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He laughed. ‘Do you mean I’m a hologram in Brazil?’
‘No. A barbarian,’ she said without hesitation.
‘Would you have me any other way?’
From the blush on her cheeks, he guessed not.
She started making thoughtful comments about the décor, but all he could think about was taking her to bed, pleasuring her through the night, and not even bothering to muffle her screams of pleasure.
Yes, he had aimed for discreet but sumptuous country casual, he agreed distractedly. And, yes again, he was glad she approved of the colour scheme. But frankly he wasn’t interested in jewel colours and expensive art when he had a living, breathing work of art standing in front of him, waiting to be undressed.
‘Nothing too obviously billionaire chic?’
He laughed at her comment. ‘I suppose you could say that.’
‘So, who did you use?’
He frowned. He knew whose body he’d like to use—right after he’d pleasured it into a state of erotic euphoria. ‘No one.’
Her gaze dropped to his lips. ‘You mean you designed this all by yourself?’
‘All except the library. Would you like to see the rest of it?’ He led the way to the stairs.
‘Why not?’
TIAGO’S BEDROOM WAS full of mellow wood and rich coloured drapes—a necessity in the Highlands, where the wind could be cruel and even well-insulated houses could be gripped in a frozen chill for months on end. There were tasteful accessories in a variety of muted honey colours, and crisp white linen on the bed. Two elegant lamps stood one either side of the bed on nightstands covered in books.
Feeling him close behind her, she turned and almost collided with him. From the way he was looking at her it was as if he knew everything she had been thinking...dreaming. Gathering herself quickly, she ignored the glint of understanding, and, yes, even humour in his eyes.
‘Are you ready to go home, Danny?’
The way he was prompting her didn’t leave her with much option. He had even stood back to clear her way to the door.
‘Thank you for showing me around.’ She sketched a smile. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t disappointed that the evening was over so soon, but what had she expected? ‘You have a beautiful home,’ she said truthfully. ‘I wish you every happiness living here. And in Brazil too, of course.’
He escorted her to the door and helped her on with her jacket. He’d been the perfect gentleman throughout the entire evening. She knew she shouldn’t hope for anything more, but having Tiago back in her life, even in a new way, was disturbing...upsetting. He was a complex man who demanded life on his own terms—as she demanded life on her terms. How had she ever imagined they could meet in the middle?
They couldn’t, she concluded as Tiago helped her into the car and closed the door.
Why had he bought a Scottish estate? It couldn’t be Chico’s influence. No one influenced Tiago. She could understand him falling in love with the Highlands. Who wouldn’t? This rugged setting was a scenic feast and, as he’d said, this was a perfect base for him. But how would she feel with her estranged husband living down the road? What if he found someone else? What if Tiago had children with that person? Could she look on and feel nothing?
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, flashing a concerned glance at her after a long silence.
‘Yes. Thank you.’ If he had been trying to jolt her into feeling passionately about him—about life, about everything—he couldn’t have planned this evening better. And now she couldn’t resist asking him... ‘How long do you think you’ll spend here each year?’
‘That all depends.’
She waited, but Tiago revealed nothing more. His attention was fixed on the icy road. How could they have become so distant? Had she really thought she could handle this? How wrong she’d been.
‘We’ll go riding on the estate tomorrow.’
Her head shot up, but then she remembered her job. ‘I’m afraid I can’t.’
‘Your work?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can take time off. I’ve spoken to your employer.’
She frowned. ‘You didn’t think to ask me first?’
‘Forgive me.’
Tiago was mocking her a little bit, but she would forgive him anything for one of those smiles.
‘It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse,’ he admitted.
‘You can’t just walk back into my life and take over.’
‘Shall I see you to your front door?’ he asked, unfazed by this.
‘That’s not necessary—’
Ignoring her, he came round anyway and helped her out of the car. His touch was electric. She pulled back, still annoyed at the thought of her employer’s likely reaction when a world-famous polo player had knocked on his door, demanding that one of his staff have time off.
‘Thank you very much for tonight,’ she said formally, turning to face Tiago at the front door. ‘But please don’t interfere in the life I’m making here in future.’
Inclining his head in a way that might have meant yes, or no, he smiled. Taking the key from her hand, he opened the front door. She flinched when he took hold of her shoulders, and then softened beneath his touch. She couldn’t help herself. Her reaction was automatic. The bond between them could survive anything, and nothing she could do or think would change that.
‘Goodnight, Danny...’ Dipping his head, Tiago brushed a chaste kiss against her cheek.
‘Goodnight...’
Her stomach clenched with disappointment as he walked away.
* * *
He stood beneath a shower turned to ice, and then rubbed himself down roughly before falling naked into bed. Cursing viciously, he punched the pillows. Turning this way and that, he felt like a frustrated wolf that would be better off howling at the moon.
He’d get no sleep tonight. Seeing Danny again had thrown him completely. He had thought he was ready for it—ready for her—and that the time for their reunion had come and he’d be able to handle it. Now he wasn’t sure of anything—except that his love for her had grown. And he wanted her more than ever.
Every wasted second was a second too long. He was in the most acute agony of his life. Mental frustration and physical