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Taking one last look around at all the beautiful things in the restroom—dainty chairs with soft leaf-green covers and the comforting array of traditional organic scent bottles lined up on a crystal tray for visitors to sample—she had the strongest feeling that if Nero had anything to do with it, it would be some time before she would be making a return visit here.
In this same anxious mood she opened the door and managed to bump straight into him.
‘Ill met by moonlight,’ Nero murmured with amusement as Bella exclaimed with alarm.
Her breath echoed in the silence as she stared up at Nero’s strong, tanned hand on the wall by her face. ‘Excuse me, please—’
He didn’t move.
‘I said—’
‘I heard what you said.’
‘Then would you let me pass, please?’ She would fight off the effects of that deceptively sleepy stare.
‘What’s your hurry, Bella?’
‘We should be getting back to the recital…’
Nero hummed.
Bracing herself, 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.
