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“I wasn’t… I was just…”Her dog lunges for me before I make it to her door. “Mr. Wiggins! Heel!”
He bareshis teeth but doesn’t advance.
“I’m so sorry.He’s just protective of me.” Her eyes linger over my chest, my naked torso, my still unbuttoned pants for a second longer than they should, but I have nothing to be ashamed of. Let her look if she will. “He thought you were an intruder…I was just checking…” Her eyes harden as they reach mine. “What the hell am I doing apologizing toyou?”
She hasa point and every right to be angry. I let myself look at the curve of her neck and the rise of her breasts, even though she’s steeled herself against me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sorry. I—I could not…”I reach for her, helpless to ignore her siren song.
Despite the firein her eyes, or maybe because of it, she offers no resistance, her mouth meeting mine, her lips soft but the feeling behind them…strong. My arm finds its way around her as she runs her hands up my chest and around my neck, the kiss lengthening as we find a rhythm that matches the beat of my heart. The blood that should be feeding my brain has all been diverted to stations south of the equator and I want her. Here. Now.
We’re against the wall,both of us feeling our way toward a moment we can’t come back from. “Lolly.”
She pulls back,her pupils blown and her mouth wide open.
“Are you sure you want to—”
She pushesme away with such might, I stumble.
“No,I—"
I wantto argue that this can still be ours, that what we feel isn’t untrue, our bodies shouting orders that we should obey, even if we don’t understand the why or the how.
My brain skids to a halt.Because now—now that I’ve made the decision to meet with Juliette—I am the man Lolly thinks I am. I pull my hands away from her, covering the erection that cannot be hidden, and attempt a bow. “My apologies, Lolly.”
She pants,still wide-eyed. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You ditched me on the dance floor, and now you think you can just…” She lifts her hands wide, as if to encompass whatever there is between us. “I don’t even know what to think.”
She wants an explanation—deservesone, but I shake my head, no words coming to mind. Damn it. I’m not this person. I have English, Spanish, and German at my disposal. Surely there’s some way back to a new start.
“Fine. Whatever.”Her wild hair flies as she slams the door to her apartment and whirls toward the stairs and there is nothing I can say that will stop her from walking away from me. Mr. Wiggins struts beside her, tail high, head higher. He did his duty, whereas I failed at mine.
The crunchof tires on gravel say that others are arriving. If it’s Stephanie, I have no desire to parade myself in front of her. I take myself back to my bunk as fast as my legs can carry me and finish dressing, emptying as much hay as I can out of my pockets and from under my collar.
When I emerge,Lolly is in the ring on a horse I’ve seen her riding before, a petite-but-leggy dark bay Thoroughbred filly. The exact kind of horse I would select off the track. Lolly has such fluidity and grace in motion, in spite of the building Florida heat. They turn, and with aids so slight as to be nearly invisible, she urges the horse into a canter. Except urging isn’t the right word. The pair is of one mind, each responding to the other’s most subtle cue—it’s a whispered conversation as they speed forward into a gallop on the long sides as if they’re on fire, then come back to a more collected canter on the short sides. I could stand in the shadow of the barn and watch the duet she and her horse sing together forever—the supple swing of Lolly’s hips as they rock forward and back to follow the motion of her horse’s canter. The way she gives and takes on the reins, her fingers squeezing and releasing at just the right moment to get the response she wants. The way her breasts lift and drop, lift and drop… It’s the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen, but Mr. Wiggins has my scent and he’s not going to stay in his stall if I linger.
And anyway,I can never have Lolly, and I cannot allow myself to be near her, no matter what my heart and cock desire.
I have a date with destiny.A date I’d rather ditch, but beggars…
THE SUN ALSO RISES
Mariano Arias. High Winds Polo Club. Palm Beach, Florida.
Ihave a couple of hours to kill before my life changes course forever. I cannot spend it thinking about things that will never be. I shouldn’t have kissed her, pressed her against the wall, felt her gorgeous ass as her body rose to meet mine. It doesn’t matter that heat answered heat. Whatever Mamá might say,nothingis simple. Heat cannot, will not, put food in mouths or roofs over heads. Duty before desire.
Say it again, Mariano. Say it until you mean it: duty before all else.
I head for the clubhouse, where I find my teammates Alex and Kamil deep in conversation. I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but when I draw close it turns out they’re just yakking about the coming matches like a couple of old men playing chess in the park. There’s a royal on the opposing team, which means security will be beefed up. Always a pain in the rear.
“Which one is it this time?” I’m on speaking terms with the prince, and our connection through theWounded Warriors Workforce—my personal charity for wounded veterans which is very much like his, albeit in Argentina—makes for easy conversation. I can’t prove it, but there’s a donor who funnels money to my ranch in Córdoba via Lichtenstein, and I believe it has to be one of the British royals.
I don’t hear the answer because my brain is conjuring pictures of Lolly Benoit on horseback. There’s a moment when you ride, at least for those riders who connect with their mount, when you and your horse aren’t two beings. You’re connected with every squeeze of your thigh and press of your calf, the slightest twitch of your fingers, every hitch of your mood. To be able to ride the way she did means she’d thrown me off completely. Your horse knows when you’re upset, and that filly Lolly was riding didn’t have a care in the world. In spite of that kiss, I am nothing but an embarrassment and a boor to Lolly Benoit. This is good! Would that I had such mental discipline. She has become such an obsession, I fear I will never shake her off, but that’s mine to bear and no one else’s.
I make my excuses and leave the boys to their shop talk. The drive to the restaurant isn’t long, but it’s dire. The traffic lights are grey. The palm trees have lost their charm. Even the azure sky arcing above me has turned to dust.
I reserved a table for two by the window overlooking the golf course, but my date waves her bejeweled hand and beckons me to the middle of the dining room. “They’re leering and lusting from the sidelines and I couldn’t be happier. Let them eat their hearts out.”
