she looked up. Moonlight was indeed bathing them both in a strange sapphire light as it poured in through one of the castle’s many stained-glass windows. The effect was wonderful for Nero’s dark skin and thick black hair—she guessed her own face was a watery blue and her red hair a strange shade of green. Heating up under Nero’s amused scrutiny, she launched a counter-attack. ‘What were you doing at dinner with the prince and all that talk of a scheme?’
‘It wasn’t talk, Bella—’
‘And I suppose it wasn’t a ruse to make me sell Misty to you, either?’
‘The scheme will continue, with or without your help, Bella.’
In his severe formal clothes, in this most refined of settings, Nero Caracas looked like a dark angel and more dangerous than ever. ‘You led the prince to think I might sell Misty—and that my compliance with the scheme was a given.’
Nero’s lips pressed down in a most attractive way. ‘There’s no mystery,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I offered to pay whatever price you ask for the pony. I doubt you’ll find anyone who will match my offer.’
Or match Nero’s compelling aura, or his physical strength, Bella thought, fighting off the seductive effect. It was impossible to be this close to Nero Caracas without feeling something, she reasoned, willing her voice to remain steady. ‘I told you once—and this is the last time—Misty isn’t for sale.’
‘And what if the prince wants to buy her?’
Stunned by the idea, Bella gasped.
‘Don’t tell me that thought hasn’t occurred to you,’ Nero murmured in his lazy South American drawl. ‘And if the prince does want your mare, how can you refuse him?’ Nero gave her a moment to soak this up, before adding dryly, ‘Perhaps I can save the situation for you.’
Bella’s eyes narrowed. ‘What would it cost me?’
‘Oh, come now, Bella. You know Misty would be happier with me than the prince.’
Check. And mate. Nero had cut the legs from under her. Forget the threat he posed in the personal sense—polo ponies lived to play the game and Misty adored the high-powered cut and thrust of the international arena. It was common knowledge that the prince had practically retired from the game, which meant Misty would hardly be played at all, whereas as one of Nero’s pampered ponies, Misty would get every opportunity to indulge the passion the small mare lived for.
‘Having doubts?’ Nero prompted, pouncing on her hesitation.
‘None,’ she lied. ‘I only wish you had some scruples.’
Nero laughed. Throwing back his head, he revealed the long, firm column of his throat. ‘Your innocence is touching, Bella.’ Dipping his head, he stared her in the eyes to drive the point home. ‘I have no scruples when it comes to the game.’
Which game?
In the heat of the moment, she grabbed his arm. ‘Just keep the prince out of this.’ Feeling the heat and muscle beneath her hand, she quickly released her grip. Inhaling sharply, she shook herself round. Nero was an experienced man. You didn’t come up against him without getting burned. This was all a game to him and if she had any sense she’d put some much needed space between them…
Nero’s hand slammed against the wall at the side of her face.
‘Get out of my way,’ Bella raged with shock, green eyes blazing.
‘So I am right,’ Nero murmured, standing back.
‘Right about what?’ she said angrily, thoroughly discomfited.
‘There is fire beneath that ice of yours,’ Nero murmured.
Bella inhaled sharply as Nero stroked back a strand of her hair that had escaped its stern captivity. ‘You can stop congratulating yourself on your perception,’ she said coldly. ‘It doesn’t seem to have helped you where Misty is concerned.’
Nero’s mouth curved disconcertingly. ‘You seem very sure of that, Bella.’
‘I am.’ Her voice was shaking, but in some strange way she was enjoying this. Nero made her feel alive. She should thank him for goading her.
‘Temper, temper,’ Nero murmured, reading her.
She stood aloof, but they were still so close she could feel his heat warming her, and his spicy scent invading her senses and making her dizzy. Nero was enjoying this too, Bella realised with a rush of concern and excitement mixed.
And have you chosen to overlook that small thing called consequences?
How she hated her inner voice for intruding at a time like this, but she couldn’t ignore it. Her fighting spirit might have made a comeback, but her ability to trust a man still had a long way to go.
CHAPTER THREE
THE corridor was silent until the sound of doors closing made them both turn. ‘Oh, dear,’ Nero observed dryly, ‘it appears we’ve missed the recital.’
‘And what will the prince have to say about that?’ Bella murmured defiantly.
Nero sighed in response but didn’t look a bit repentant. ‘It seems we’re both in trouble.’
More than he could know, Bella thought, brewing up a storm.
Nero lounged back against the wall with footmen playing silent sentry as he waited for the music to end. The moment the doors were opened again, the prince summoned them both over.
She might as well give up now, Bella thought as the prince said how happy it made him to indulge a friend. She had just smiled her thanks when the prince made it clear that friend was Nero. ‘As you know, I have agreed to be the patron of Nero’s charity,’ the prince confided in her, ‘but as I have so many calls on my time I would like you, Bella, to represent me.’
‘Me, Sir?’ Of course she was surprised but, crucially, the prince had taken the decision about going to Argentina out of her hands.
‘I can’t think of anyone better qualified,’ he continued. ‘You are the best trainer I know, Bella. And when the polo season comes to an end, what better use of your time could there be than introducing more young people to the joys of riding? See what you can do over there, Bella—what you can both do,’ the prince added, gazing at Bella and Nero in turn. ‘Though I should warn you, Bella, that when you leave the northern hemisphere behind and experience the very different world you are going to, you might want to stay there. Passions run high on the pampas—isn’t that so, Caracas?’
‘Exactly so, Your Royal Highness.’ Nero’s amused gaze switched to Bella.
‘I know you’ll enjoy the teaching, Bella,’ the prince continued, turning serious again. ‘And if you would do this one thing for me, I would feel I was still there, in some way. I’m afraid I can’t spare anyone from my own staff. But who knows the relationship between man and horse better than you?’ he added persuasively. ‘It will mean you spending quite some time in Argentina, Bella, but I feel certain you will enjoy that as much as I did.’
How
