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* * *
Get over yourself, Dante mused as the minutes ticked slowly away. He shouldn’t have allowed the situation to reach a point where his brothers and sister had been forced to intervene. But that was how the Acostas were. If one needed help and refused it, the others stepped in. Jess was stuck in the middle of a forceful, powerful family. He shouldn’t be taking out his frustration on her. He’d been difficult since the polo accident. Hell, he’d always been difficult. He’d been the wayward son before his parents’ death. It was only after the tragedy that he realised how much grief he’d given them. Now that grief was his. Verbal jousting with Jess had lifted him. He liked a challenge, and Jess was full of it. Without polo there was no conflict in his life. Jess gave him all he needed. Feeling her hands on his body was something he anticipated with interest.
‘My bedroom?’ he stated when she appeared at the appointed time.
‘Perfect,’ she agreed without batting an eyelid. ‘We’ll have privacy there.’
‘So no one will hear me scream?’ he suggested dryly.
‘The treatment will be painful,’ she admitted evenly, ‘but I don’t imagine you show your feelings as easily as that.’
They stared at each other for a moment. Pot, kettle, black, he thought, but at least Jess didn’t shy away from her obligations. ‘Lead the way,’ she said pleasantly instead.
* * *
‘I’m going to put a towel over you to preserve your modesty,’ she told Dante in the reassuring tone she used with all her patients.
‘What modesty?’ he growled.
She blinked as she turned back to her patient and was confronted by an iron butt. Her heart thundered like crazy at the sight of something that would normally pass her by. A butt was a butt. They came in all shapes and sizes, and she had never judged anyone yet. Before now. In her defence, Dante had an exceptional butt. And the sooner she covered it with a towel the better.
His body was all over magnificent. Dante Acosta was as close to male perfection as it got.
‘I’m ready,’ he announced.
Are you? she felt like saying, but at least he’d bounced her out of the self-indulgent stare. Members of his crew had arranged a board on top of the bed and she’d added a cover on top so it was comfortable.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘What are you waiting for?’
She would have to be made of stone not to appreciate the sight in front of her. ‘I’ll be starting on your calf and working up.’
‘Great.’
‘Don’t get too excited. According to your notes, there’s nothing wrong with your groin.’
‘Very witty. I rather thought I would be staying here on my front anyway.’
‘You will; don’t worry,’ she replied as she hauled his legs into a position to suit the upcoming therapy. ‘Now lie still and don’t move again. And please don’t talk. We have less than an hour for this treatment, if you want to take a shower when I’ve finished.’
‘What are you using?’ Dante asked suspiciously as she slicked her hands with oil.
‘Horse liniment. My bag’s in the hold—’
‘You’re doing what?’ he roared.
‘Joke?’ she said mildly, chalking one up for the therapist. ‘This is straight out of your bathroom.’
‘No more jokes,’ Dante growled, which was her signal to dig deep into the muscles on his injured calf.
Applying her skill, she soon discovered the seat of the problem. Starting gently, she built up the pressure until Dante let rip with a violent curse.
‘You’re supposed to be curing me, not torturing me!’
‘If you’d started treatment sooner your muscles wouldn’t be in such a knot.’
‘Then make allowances for that knot.’
‘Stop deafening me. Stay still. Keep quiet,’ she instructed. ‘This will hurt if you don’t submit—’
‘Submit?’ he roared, almost exploding off the bed.
She pressed her weight against his back...his warm, tanned, hard-muscled back. ‘Lie back down,’ she insisted.
‘I could shake you off in an instant,’ he warned.
‘You could,’ she agreed. ‘But what good would that do? Meanwhile, I’m hearing your treatment time ticking away.’
‘You’re cool—I’ll give you that,’ he conceded.
Thank goodness that was how she appeared. It wasn’t how she felt.
‘Continue,’ Dante instructed as he rested back on the bed. ‘Though I imagine you’re going to make me pay.’
An unseen smile hovered on her lips. ‘Whatever makes you think that?’
‘My infamous intuition,’ Dante informed her.
* * *
He bit back a curse as Jess—or Skylar, as he preferred to think of her in this merciless mood—dug her fingers deep into a nerve.
‘This is the price you pay for neglecting follow-up treatment,’ she informed him when he snarled a complaint.
He didn’t care for the tone of her voice.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Jess demanded when he rolled off the bed.
‘Getting a few things straight.’
‘Like what?’ she demanded, lifting her chin to confront him. But her glance dipped to his lips before it returned to his eyes.
They continued to stare at each other until her eyes sparkled and she couldn’t hold back a laugh. He laughed too because this was real, this was Jess. She wouldn’t have known how to flatter him if she’d tried.
‘Down,’ she instructed, pointing to the bed. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet. Take your treatment like a man.’
‘With pleasure,’ he agreed, smiling.
‘There won’t be too much of that,’ she assured him.
‘Pleasure?’
That one word was all he could get out before the torture began, but he had to confess that she was good by the end of the session. ‘My leg feels a little easier,’ he remarked with surprise.
‘You’ll pay for it tomorrow,’ she predicted. ‘One session isn’t a cure. It’s only the first step in a very long treatment.’
‘Excellent.’
‘Excellent? I can’t promise to be gentle with you.’
‘Please,’ he said, staring into her eyes, ‘don’t hold back.’ Jess was blushing deeply as he added, ‘At least my siblings haven’t wasted their money.’
‘Wait—I want to check something before you go,’ she said as he straightened up. With that, she knelt at his feet.
‘You don’t have to bow to me—Mujer!’ he exclaimed as she dug her fingers into an area he had so far treated with the care he might show an eggshell.
‘There you go,’ she announced with satisfaction. ‘It is that muscle at the root of your problem.’
He had more muscles with more problems than she knew.
‘And you had to prove it,’ he observed as Jess stood up.
‘Yes, of course I did. I know wha
t I’m doing, you know.’
There was no doubt in his mind of that.
Something incredible had happened while all this was going on. The anger that had dogged him since the accident—an accident caused by his recklessness, as well as that of his opponent—evaporated and was replaced by good humour. Jess had released something in him. It was the same knack she’d had ten years ago when he was an over-confident youth of twenty-two. She could burst a bubble of entitlement with a flash of her emerald eyes. Maybe she had been in awe of the Acosta brothers when they strode into her father’s stable, but she’d hidden it beneath a mix of teenage attitude—and one surprisingly bold action. She hadn’t even been fazed by the little fluff-ball disgracing itself all over her clothes, or if she had, she hadn’t shown it.
‘Don’t you see the funny side of this?’ he enquired with interest. ‘Teenage Jess turned regimental sergeant major where my treatment’s concerned?’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said flatly. ‘Treating patients is a serious occupation for me. I don’t find any of this amusing.’
‘Liar,’ he reprimanded her softly. ‘You must be gloating deep down.’
Jess’s expression remained unchanged.
Now the session had ended they went their separate ways, Jess to check on the horses, while he went to take a shower and get changed. Had he met his match? The thought that he might have done pleased him as he stared into the glass above the basin. Would she get the better of him? No. That would never happen and it was something Jess still had to learn.
But... As he eased his leg, and for the first time in a long time felt no pain, he thought his accusation of Jess gloating over her control of him had gone too far. Yes, she was in charge of his treatment; that was what she’d been hired to do. Early signs pointed to her therapy being effective. Instead of trying to wind her up, he should be thanking her. Jess was alone on new territory, where he controlled everything outside Jess’s treatment plan. A little humility on his part wouldn’t go amiss.
CHAPTER SIX
‘THANK YOU,’ Jess whispered as she stroked Moon’s ears. She loved the contrast between sharp-edged cartilage and sleek, velvety hair and, even more than that, she loved the communion between them. The healing power of animals could never be overestimated in Jess’s opinion. She only had to be in the stall with Moon to know that this closeness between them was a gift, a space, a special place to be—it was a place where she could always see things clearly. Except for Dante.
