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Abruptly recalling the arrangement she had made with Patrick Gorman, Polly leapt out of bed the instant Raul closed the door behind him.
After a quick shower, she pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, frantic because she knew she was running late. She rushed down the corridor to see Luis, which was always the first thing she did in the morning. In the doorway of the nursery, she stopped dead in surprise and some dismay.
Raul was lounging back in a chair with Luis lying asleep on top of him. Garbed in a little yellow sleepsuit and sprawled trustingly across his father’s muscular chest, their son looked impossibly small in comparison.
‘I thought you’d already left...’ Her voice drained away again, because all of a sudden she felt the weight of her silly deception. It hit her the instant she registered what going behind Raul’s back actually entailed.
Brilliant dark eyes veiled, Raul gave her a glinting smile that had the odd effect of increasing her discomfiture. ‘If you feed him, Luis is very appealing at this hour.’
‘You fed him yourself?’ Polly was astonished.
‘Since I woke him up by coming in, it didn’t seem fair not to. He went through that bottle like he hadn’t eaten in days!’ Raul confided, smoothing light fingers down over his son’s back as Luis snuffled and shifted his little froglik
e legs, content as only a baby with a full tummy can be. ‘His nursemaid changed him for me. He looks so fragile stripped, I didn’t want to run the risk of doing it myself.’
Polly reached down and stole Luis into her own arms, and lovingly rubbed her cheek against her son’s soft, sweet-smelling skin before she reluctantly tucked him back into his cot.
‘I gather the jeans mean you’ve finally decided to come out riding with me,’ Raul drawled from the door. ‘You won’t find those jeans very comfortable...but then I assume you already know that.’
Still leaning over the cot with her back turned to him, Polly’s jaw dropped.
‘You’re lucky I stopped off in here. You’d have missed me otherwise,’ Raul added casually.
Outside the silent house, Polly clambered into the four-wheel drive with a trapped look in her eyes.
‘It’s been ages and ages since I’ve been on a horse, Raul,’ she said, rather abruptly.
‘It’s a skill you never forget,’ Raul asserted bracingly. ‘A couple of hours in the saddle and you’ll wonder how you ever lived without it.’
A couple of hours? Polly was aghast. Raul shot the vehicle to a halt at the side of the stables.
Patrick Gorman strolled out of the big tack room and then froze when he saw Raul.
‘I’m not accustomed to seeing you abroad at this hour, Patrick. Polly’s coming out with me this morning.’
‘I’ll be in the office if you want me.’ Without even risking a glance in Polly’s direction, Patrick strode off.
Polly stood like a graven image while a pair of grooms led out two mounts. El Lobo, Raul’s big black stallion, and a doe-eyed bay mare—who looked, somewhat reassuringly, barely awake.
Raul planted a hard hat on her head and did up the strap. Then he extended a peculiarly shaped garment that reminded her of an oversized body warmer.
‘Protection...since you mentioned being out of practice. If you take a toss, I don’t want you hurt.’ He fed her into the ugly bulky protector and deftly pushed home the clasps. It weighed her down like armour.
Sweeping her up, Raul settled her into the saddle, where she hunched in sudden complete terror.
‘I can’t ride... Raul, do you hear me? I can’t ride!’ Polly cried.
‘I know...’ Raul murmured, so softly she had to strain to hear him as he shortened the stirrups and slotted her feet into them. ‘I’d have to be a complete idiot not to know.’
‘You kn-know?’ Polly gasped in disbelief as he swung up on El Lobo with fluid ease.
‘Dios mío...how could I not guess? Your body language around the horses yesterday was not that of an experienced horsewoman. And I could hardly miss the fact that you hadn’t a clue what I was talking about,’ Raul delineated very drily.
Polly turned a dull red. ‘I thought you’d find it a complete bore if I admitted I was a greenhorn.’
His stunning dark golden eyes gleamed with grim amusement. ‘Are you really so naive about men? Is there any male who doesn’t relish imparting his superior knowledge of a subject to a woman?’
‘I told Patrick I couldn’t ride last night...he offered to take me through the basics this morning,’ she volunteered in an embarrassed rush. ‘It was stupid of me.’
