bucket, but I’m attempting to settle this debt. However, you won’t work with me, and I can’t make you work with me, but I can consult an attorney and get some legal advice—”
“Advice?” His tone turned deceptively soft.
“Regarding harassment,” she hurriedly continued, trying to ignore the fact that his cheekbones had hardened, the high curve turning to granite as his lips compressed.
“Muneca, you don’t want to take me to court.”
His husky voice trickled down her spine like fingertips, and she shivered inwardly, more deeply affected than she’d admit. “I can file Chapter Eleven. We’d be protected while we reorganized our debt. You wouldn’t see a penny for a long, long time.”
He didn’t say anything. He simply stared at her, a mixture of disgust and amazement lighting his eyes. She’d surprised him.
Daisy wondered why she didn’t feel more victorious. In truth, she felt a little afraid. Only fools turned the Galváns into adversaries. The Galváns were incredibly powerful people. Her father had always tried so hard to keep the peace with the late Tino Galván.
Thankfully Dante’s cellular phone began to ring, and he fished inside his leather coat, retrieving the phone from an inner pocket. The phone was minuscule, barely larger than a credit card. Of course he’d carry the newest form of technology. Nothing but the most modern and most expensive for Count Dante Galván.
He turned away to take the call but Daisy watched him converse, his dark head tipped in concentration, lashes lowered to conceal his expression. Suddenly he looked at her from beneath his lashes and caught her staring.
He lifted his eyebrows slightly as if to say, “Well? Do you like what you’re seeing?” and Daisy blushed deeply, a frisson of warmth bursting to life within her. She hated that she even found him interesting. He shouldn’t be interesting to her. He was shallow, superficial, spoiled. He—but no, she didn’t want to think about him, didn’t want to waste even a second on him.
Abruptly Daisy moved away, walking on stiff legs to the edge of the track. Drawing a deep breath, she leaned against the painted fence railing and waited for the trio of horses to round the bend.
The thudding hooves shook the ground, sending a rumbling sensation through her boots and into her legs. She watched as the horses galloped closer, and Daisy moved near the fence to get the best view possible. She held her breath as the horses thundered past, the jockeys a blur of red and yellow in their training jackets.
Oh, how beautiful they are.
For a blissful moment she forgot everything—her father, the debt, Dante Galván—too immersed in joy.
Her gaze clung to the yearlings, enthralled by the vision of long legs flying, arched satiny necks, tails sailing. Her horses, her farm, her future.
“You file Chapter Eleven and you might as well close Collingsworths’ doors.” His voice came from behind her. “Horses are big business, particularly in Kentucky. You don’t play with people’s investments.”
She snapped upright. She hadn’t realized he’d finished his call, nor heard him approach.
“I understand,” she answered tightly, irritated by his superciliousness. His superiority grated on her. How could he think he was more virtuous simply because he had money and they had none? “But people around here also know the Collingsworths are honest. We’ve been in business more than eighty years. We’ve hit rough patches before and pulled through.”
He didn’t immediately speak, and she couldn’t bring herself to turn and face him. He was wreaking havoc on her nerves. She definitely had lost the upper hand.
The silence seemed to last forever. At length he spoke. “Where is your father?”
His tone had lost its brusqueness. He sounded almost conciliatory. She turned slightly, glanced at him. “He’s retired.”
“I wouldn’t call it a good time for him to retire.”
“In our business there’s never a good time to retire.”
His jaw tightened, deep grooves forming along his mouth. “But he’s left this … disaster … to you?”
“This disaster is our farm, and yes, I manage the farm now, so unlucky for you, you’re going to have to deal with me.”
“Oh, I’d say lucky me,” he corrected softly.
It was the last thing she expected him to say. Daisy flooded hot, cold and began to shiver.
She could deal with sarcasm, deal with intimidation, but she couldn’t handle this—this …
Suggestive sort of foreplay. Or whatever it was. She’d never been particularly sexual or confident about herself as a woman. She knew she was smart and strong, but not …
Daisy flushed and ground her teeth, digging her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to hide her trembling. He was making her incredibly self-conscious, and suddenly she didn’t know how to handle this conversation anymore.
In the old days she would have thrown a punch. It was the way she grew up solving problems but she hadn’t thrown a punch in years, not since Tommy Wilcox had made fun of thirteen-year-old Zoe’s braces and she left Tommy with a black eye, bruised ego and a new, healthy respect for the Collingsworth sisters.
What Daisy wouldn’t give to teach Dante Galván a similar lesson.
But she was done with her fighting days, done acting the part of a rough-and-tumble tomboy. At twenty-four she knew a quick temper wouldn’t solve the problems facing her family. Only a cool head would get them out of this crisis.
Dante glanced at his watch and with a sigh shook his sleeve down, covering the gleam of gold on his wrist. “As much as I’m enjoying this little tête-á-tête, a problem has come up in Buenos Aires. I have to return to the hotel to handle this, but I will be back, Miss Collingsworth. Sooner than you think.”
He couldn’t be pleasant. Not even if he tried. But Daisy forced a smile even though it made her jaw ache. “Is that a promise, Count Galván, or a threat?”
He laughed, and the early morning sunlight cascaded over him, forming a halo around his dark head, creating the impression of impossible strength and energy. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
Again his eyes smoldered, his expression both personal and tangible. He made her feel so aware of herself, and aware of him. He made her realize that they were very different people and somehow he made it seem like an intriguing premise. “I’ll be back later today.”
Daisy swallowed hard, quivered inwardly, stung by the spark of heat, and took an instinctive step backward. “I’ve appointments until noon,” she said. He didn’t need to know that she’d be home, helping her father with his morning routine.
“We can meet after lunch then. I want to go over your books, see the records.”
“Those are private.”
“Daisy, I’m trying to keep this civil. It doesn’t have to be war—”
“Afraid
