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“You’d better move out of my way,” Dante warned Rose.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him as the two men continued to face off. Dante looked more intimidating than ever, and she had no intention of moving. If she did, there’d be a fight.
“This isn’t a joke, Rose.”
“Am I laughing?”
“For fuck’s sake, Tom,” Costanza cut in. “Dante and I have known each other since we were in diapers. There’s nothing going on.” She directed this at Rose as much as Tom, as if having Rose believe her was just as important.
Rose was convinced. Dante was still glowering. It was Rose’s turn to bridle. Dante had no rights over her. He seemed to think he could turn it on and switch it off whenever it pleased him, and he was about to learn that wasn’t the case.
Seeing two huge men poised to slug it out was like catnip to the crowd, and quite an audience had gathered around them. Rose took her chance while there were witnesses, to make the two men see sense. “Tom and me were celebrating because we came third—nothing more, nothing less. Now shake hands. We’re having a party, not a prize fight—that’s next week.”
As everyone laughed, the tension released, and Dante and Tom were forced to stand down. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Six brothers had their uses sometimes. They might be as annoying as hell, but they’d taught her a lot about the male psyche. Shoot first, ask questions later, which, roughly translated, meant any excuse for a fight—but create a distraction—remove their focus from each other for an instant, and the critical moment would pass. Just as it had done now, she was relieved to see as Tom allowed Costanza to lead him back on to the dance floor.
The crowd peeled away, leaving Dante and Rose facing each other. “We have some talking to do,” he told her.
She huffed with incredulity. “It’s a bit late for that.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Dante assured her. She froze when he put his hand on the small of her back as if to lead her away.
“You take too much for granted,” she said, breaking free.
She led the way into the shadows, and when she was sure they were out of earshot, she let him have it. “Calm reason doesn’t work with you, and I’m done with being the butt of your frustration. It’s not my fault you’re a slave to the past. And I don’t want a man making love to me as if I mean everything to him, only to walk away without a backward glance when he’s done.”
“You walked. I followed,” Dante pointed out coldly.
“Which has to be a first for you,” Rose agreed. “So what do you want now? More sex?” She shook her head. “I’m done with that too. It will never be enough for me—”
“Or me,” Dante interrupted.
“You don’t have anything else to give.”
“Do you?” he countered. “I came here tonight determined to finish things for your sake. I know you need more, and I care enough to want you to have everything I can’t give you. But that would be too easy.”
“So, what are you saying, Dante?”
“I’m saying it’s time to fight for something we could have. What do you give me, apart from your body and your equine expertise?”
“You don’t want anything else.”
“How do you know what I want? Have you ever asked me?”
“Have we ever had a conversation?” Rose exploded with frustration. “I don’t know why I’m even wasting my time on this!”
Running from Dante was the last thing she’d planned to do, but with his accusations ringing in her ears, she needed space to examine what he’d said, to see if there was any truth in it. Was she guilty of living in the past and only seeing things from her point of view?
She burst into her usual refuge, the stable block, and then had to remind herself to walk quietly. She’d never entered her quiet space, as she thought of any time spent with the ponies, in anything other than a calm mood, but no one had ever thrown her like Dante. He put her in touch with feelings she didn’t even know she had.
So perhaps she was a little like him, Rose conceded as she stood outside Stargazer’s stall. Ears pricked, the pony was staring at her, clearly wondering what she wanted. Her gaze strayed to his bridle hanging on the wall, safely out of reach. She hadn’t moved it to the tack room after training, knowing she’d be riding him first thing in the morning. A bridle was all she needed, Rose thought as she reached up and unhooked it.
Chapter Twelve
He left the party and went back to the hacienda. The big ranch house echoed as he walked inside. He’d given his staff the night off so they could enjoy the party. In the living room, he poured a scotch, then opened the door to the verandah and walked outside. Staring out into the darkness, he toyed with the idea of taking a ride to break up the long night, but the moon was playing tag with the clouds, which made for dangerous riding conditions. Rabbit holes, slumbering snakes—though he knew the territory like the back of his hand, he wouldn’t risk a horse…unless that horse was Lucifer, who knew the ground better than anyone.
He decided it was better to let the big horse rest. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply on the thought that there would be a lot of long nights ahead of him, unless he did something to change that. An image of Rose swam in front of his closed eyes. He’d given her no reason to stay. He’d only tried to drive her away. Draining his glass, he thought of having another drink to numb feelings that had been bottled up inside him for so long, they were threatening to spill out. He had the bottle in his hand when the sound of a horse galloping into the night stopped him.
Someone was riding fast—too fast. He didn’t hang around to analyze who that someone might be. Acting on instinct, he put his glass down and ran.
