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So Ignacio was going to teach Bella the tango, was he? First María, and now Ignacio—what was happening here? ‘You want to watch Ignacio,’ he said, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. ‘Many a good tune is played on an old fiddle.’
Bella laughed, letting herself go for the first time in a long time, but then she angled her chin to stare into his eyes. ‘Are you jealous, Nero?’
He huffed and turned away.
‘Could we have a drink before we start thinking about the polo match?’ she asked, catching up with him in the yard.
‘Water okay for you?’
‘Perfect,’ she said.
He led the way into the barn. Opening the door, he let it swing shut behind them. They were instantly enclosed in warm silence. Walking over to a sink in the corner, he filled a container with the crystal-clear water that flowed straight from the glacier via an underground stream to the hacienda. ‘We’ll take this with us,’ he said, offering the container to Bella first.
She drank deeply and then handed it to him. He did the same. As he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth he caught her staring at him. His mouth curved with amusement as he read her thoughts. They had shared a drink from the same container. It was the closest their mouths had come to touching—up to now.
She was within touching distance of Nero. There was something magical about a hay barn. Perhaps it was the mountains of dried grass soaking up the sound, or the dust motes floating on sunbeams giving the impression of a shimmering golden veil between them. It was a soft—a ridiculously soft—frame, in which Nero appeared violently masculine.
‘Bella?’ he murmured.
‘Could I have another drink?’ She reached for the canister. Their fingers touched as Nero handed it to her and a bolt of electricity shot up her arm.
‘We’d better fill it again before we leave,’ he said as she lowered the container from her lips. Holding her gaze, he removed it from her hand and placed it on the side. She drew in a sharp breath as Nero’s hands rested lightly on her arms.
‘What are you frightened of, Bella?’
She couldn’t look at him even though the temptation to let go just this once was overwhelming. ‘I’m not frightened.’
‘Prove it,’ Nero said quietly, and behind his customary irony Bella sensed a deeper layer of concern.
‘Shouldn’t we be getting on?’ She glanced across the honeyed space—the chasm between them and the door. Nero was like a sleeping tiger, breathing steadily and yet keenly aware at the same time. She had never played the mating game before, but she knew the signs. The look in Nero’s eyes—the attractive tug at one corner of his mouth. Nero liked her. No. It was a lot more than that…
‘Bella, Bella,’ he murmured.
She swayed a little closer.
But something was wrong…something was out of sync. It felt as if she was edging along a tightrope with the promise of the most wonderful reward at the end of it with snapping sharks waiting in the waters below. At no point had Nero touched her—in fact, he had pulled back, and now one brow was raised in sardonic enquiry. ‘What was that about?’ he said.
Softening had been an insane lapse of judgement on her part—that was what it had been, Bella thought. She shared a professional relationship with Nero and that was all.
Until he dragged her close and rasped, ‘You have no idea what you’re playing with.’ And, as she stared up at him in mute bewilderment, he added, ‘I advise you very strongly to think before you act, Bella. You think you know me? You think you can play your schoolgirl games with me?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she flashed, bouncing back onto the attack as she broke free. ‘There’s not the slightest chance I will ever play games with you.’ And, when Nero laughed, she added, ‘You’re not as irresistible as you seem to think you are.’ And that was meant to be her exit line, but Nero snatched her back again. ‘Let go of me,’ she warned him.
‘You don’t want this?’ Nero smothered her cry of protest the most effective way he could. Brushing his lips across hers until the need poured out of her in whimpers of anger and frustrated tears, he took possession of her mouth in a fierce salty kiss.
Balling her hands into fists, she thrust them against his chest. She soon learned that fighting Nero was pointless. She should have hated him for this victory, but how could she when she wanted him, and when every encounter in the past was as nothing compared to this? The taste of him…the spice and scent of warm clean man…the feelings flooding through her veins…the heat pooling in her heart, her body, her senses…the need building up inside her…the urge to claim him as her mate.
When Nero kissed her the world and all its complications fell away. There was nothing left but sensation and the absolute conviction that this was right.
‘Dios, Bella!’ He thrust her away.
Shaken to the core, she was panting, while Nero towered over her, looking down as if he hated her. ‘What if I was a different man, Bella? Don’t you know what a dangerous game this is?’
‘It’s a game you’re playing too,’ she whipped back, hand across her mouth as if that could hide the proof of her arousal. She had to turn away to catch her breath before she could come back at him. Gripping the edge of the sink as if her life depended upon it, she drew a deep calming breath. Nero was right. They were both equally to blame for this. She had wanted him, but this was wrong. They were both wrong.
On the outside at least, she was utterly calm by the time she turned round again. ‘We shouldn’t keep Ignacio waiting,’ she said coolly.
Nero opened the barn door and she walked through. And now it was back to business, Bella told herself firmly. She must forget this as if it had never happened. Or lose her credibility.
