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Why hadn’t he filed a flight plan? Any day without Danny was a damp, drizzly day, and she had been gone for over a month. In all that time no one had asked him about his missing bride. No one had dared to question him.
He had dealt with the yawning gap in his life by working longer hours and playing more polo. He had made improvements to the ranch and that had made him even angrier, wondering if Danny would like what he’d done. What did anything matter now?
She would always matter.
His security team had reported that, preferring to stand on her own feet rather than return to her old job at Rottingdean, Danny was now working as a Jack of all trades at a local stable close by the house in Scotland where she had worked for Lizzie’s family. He respected Danny’s wish to find herself, to be her own person, but respect didn’t mean he was giving up on their relationship.
Yes. Relationship. They might have been married for only five minutes, but the bond between them was stronger than any piece of paper they had signed to silence his grandfather’s lawyers.
Reining in, he turned for home. If he cared so much about Danny why was he still here?
* * *
He piloted the jet, but even he couldn’t make it fly faster. He swore viciously at the thought of the time he’d wasted. But they were both stubborn, and Danny was still locked in the past. He appreciated that she needed time, but when had he ever hesitated before when he’d cared about something as much as this? He should have told her every detail from the start. Then she would not only have known the facts, she would also have known how he intended to deal with them. Instead he had tried to protect her, when what Danny needed was love and respect—not coddling.
He touched down in Scotland and leapt into the four-wheel drive he’d hired. He didn’t wait. He didn’t rest. He didn’t sleep. Anticipation at the thought of seeing Danny was all it took to keep him wide awake.
He drove straight from the airport to the farm where she was working. He might have guessed it would be in a remote glen. Was she going to hide away here for the rest of her life?
His heart gripped tight when he spotted her. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but she was working with a young colt in an outdoor arena. He climbed out of the vehicle and stood watching. He smiled, noticing how much she had learned from his training methods. He felt good about that, though standing back like this was an acute type of torture. And it was no more than he deserved.
The rampaging polo player the press talked about—the man who collected women like fine wine, drank deep and moved on—was in love. He’d only had to see Danny again to know how deeply he loved her. His life was meaningless without her. He’d missed her every waking hour, and had lain awake each night thinking about her.
There’d been gossip since they’d parted. He couldn’t expect the press to ignore the facts. ‘Marriage is not for Tiago Santos!’ one of the reporters for a red-top had crowed, no doubt rejoicing in his misery. Danny must have read that article. And, yes, their marriage was unusual, but Danny wasn’t just any bride—she was his bride. She was the only bride he could ever want. The only woman he would ever want.
He tensed as she stilled, and wondered if she’d sensed him. Whatever Danny liked to think, they were keenly tuned to each other. Did she know he’d come to find her?
She turned slowly and stared straight at him. The wealth of feeling inside him as their stares held was indescribable. He stood motionless, absorbing every detail of her as she turned back to the pony and, saying something, stroked its ears. Leaving the arena, she closed the gate and walked towards him. With every step she took he grew more certain that they belonged together, and that he would do anything it took to make this right.
He slanted her a smile as she walked up to him. ‘How are you?’
‘Good.’
She was pale, he thought as she studied his face intently.
‘How are you, Tiago?’
‘I’m fine.’
She didn’t sound fine, and instead of taking the single step that would bring her into his arms she remained a few paces back, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
‘What brings you to the Highlands?’
Her voice, with its soft Scottish burr, rolled over him like a familiar pleasure—one he’d missed more than he could say. He had never felt so alert or more aware of Danny, more alive.
‘I’m visiting old friends.’
‘Chico and Lizzie?’ She frowned. ‘I didn’t realise there were any upcoming polo matches.’
