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CHAPTER SIX

PLUCKING THE PAGER on his belt off the bed, Tiago scanned it impatiently. ‘I’m needed on the flight deck.’

‘You have to go now?’

He laughed. ‘Yes, chica—I have to go now. Patience. Put this on the back burner. Save it for our wedding night.’

Once he was dressed he left her, the door closing quietly behind him. She felt like wailing—and not just with frustration. She was angry she had let things go this far. Tiago was so hard to resist, but she needed something more than a quick coupling in the back of his jet. She might not be heading for a proper marriage, as other people understood the term, but retaining some vestige of pride was important to her.

She had lost all semblance of self-respect after her affair with Carlos Pintos, and she knew what a long walk it was back. This time she wanted to come out of it with her head held up high.

Collapsing on the pillows, she groaned. It would be hard coming back from this. Not only would Tiago expect more from her in the physical sense, but the way she felt inside her heart gave ‘aching with need’ a whole new meaning. Her body ached too, but even that couldn’t compare with the inner pain.

Tiago had awoken dreams and thoughts and feelings inside her—more than she’d known she had.

Tossing and turning, she curled up into a ball and tried to sleep. It was useless. Nothing worked. And it wasn’t just thinking about what might have happened with Tiago that was keeping her awake. There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to know. Maybe in Brazil they’d get the chance to talk—hopefully before their wedding night. She didn’t even have a clue when that would be. She really had jumped in with both feet this time.

* * *

If Danny had thought Chico’s ranch in Brazil was fantastic she was in for a surprise when they arrived at Fazenda Santos, where everything was impressive—from the immaculately maintained fencing, stretching as far as the eye could see over rolling green pampas, to the state-of-the-art buildings that comprised the stud. Tiago’s ranch was situated in one of the wildest regions on earth, allowing her to gain a far better understanding of the scale of his work.

Tiago seemed not to need anything as mundane as sleep, and after a shower said he would be checking round the ranch. Or at least that part of it closest to the house, he explained, as surveying all of it would take a month or more.

‘When I return I will have a hard copy of our contract with me,’ he promised, leaving her in the capable hands of his friendly housekeeper, Elena.

She was alone now in her bedroom, with time to reflect on the rapidly unfolding events of the past few days. She made a start on investigating the suite of rooms, knowing she should unpack and bathe, take the chance to go to bed for a few hours, but she just couldn’t. She was too tightly wound.

Seeing Tiago’s home for the first time was like opening a box of surprises, and she’d soaked up every detail greedily. She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Not some grungy living quarters on a ranch devoted to raising ponies, because Tiago’s playboy side would never allow it. But not glitz and glamour either, as that wouldn’t be appropriate for a working ranch, and for all his society polish Tiago was a surprisingly down-to-earth man.

The reality was a happy mix between comfort and luxury. The ranch house was a large, rambling building, and when they’d first driven up to it Danny wondered if he lived in just a small part of it—perhaps a bachelor pad, stark and functional, with just the high-end accessories of life to keep him company. She had pictured high-tech gadgets jostling with spurs and boots, fast cars parked outside, maybe a Harley. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see saddle soap and tins of hoof oil on the kitchen table, or bridles slung over the banister in the hall.

She couldn’t have been further off-beam. Tiago’s home was a stunning example of an old-style ranch house, though it certainly boasted every conceivable modern facility. In spite of its size he had managed to make his home cosy. Mellow wood predominated, along with all the colours of the earth—russet, ochre, claret and dusky blue—which, with the wooden floors and ethnic wall hangings, gave the old house a prosperous look and an ambience she found as alluring as Tiago.

She should have known he would live comfortably, Danny reflected as she walked to the window to stare out down the long, impressive drive. The gates had been the first giveaway that she was entering somewhere really special. They were impressive, carved out of centuries-old wood, and they had opened on to a scene of well-ordered prosperity. The drive up to the house was broad and long, and impeccably groomed, with paddocks full of horses either side. Immaculate farm buildings stood in the distance, together with a host of other facilities she had yet to name.

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