‘Why are you smiling?’ she asked him when he took the empty glass from her hand.
‘You’re wearing a dress, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen your legs before.’
‘Liar. You saw me at the wedding in a bridesmaid’s dress.’
‘Which trailed around your ankles.’ He tipped the neck of his bottle of beer in Danny’s direction.
She shook her head. ‘It did not trail.’ And then she said, ‘Shall we drink a toast to your grandfather?’
‘My grandfather? I’m surprised you’re even thinking about him.’
‘Why wouldn’t I? We wouldn’t be here without him,’ she pointed out.
His lips pressed down with amusement as he shook his head. She was right. His grandfather might have done a lot of things he disagreed with, but he had given Tiago the chance to change his life.
Easing onto one hip, he told her a little more about his history. ‘I never imagined my grandfather would deny me full ownership of the ranch, but he was cunning, and he never liked my playboy antics. He said it reminded him too much of my mother—the feckless socialite, as he called her. That’s why he constructed his will as he did. He knew how much I loved this place. He knew I wouldn’t let the people down.’
‘Whatever it took?’ Danny observed dryly.
‘Whatever it took,’ he agreed, meeting her stare head-on. The one thing he would never do was lie to her.
‘To your grandfather,’ she said softly, chinking her glass against his bottle. ‘Manuelo told me your parents were never around, and that when they were they only came here to beg for money from your grandfather. Once they got that, he said they left—sometimes without even seeing you. So what’s the sequel to this story, Tiago? I know there must be one, because Manuelo thinks the world of you—as does everyone else on this ranch.’
He was reluctant to get into it, but from the look in her eyes Danny wasn’t giving up. ‘My grandfather bailed me out of a juvenile correctional facility—said he’d give me a trial on the ranch. He said I could live with him if I worked for the privilege.’
‘And you fought him every step of the way?’ she guessed.
He didn’t deny it. ‘I didn’t want to work for anyone except myself. And when I saw this place in the middle of nowhere—’ He grimaced. ‘I didn’t feel as I do now about it, that’s for sure. It held no appeal for my teenage self.’
‘But you stayed?’ she pressed, her eyes filled with concern.
‘Yes, because I came to love the people. And now you’ve met them I’m sure you understand why.’
‘I do.’ She spoke softly and touched his arm.
He had to pause and hold himself in check for a moment, or he would have responded for sure.
‘I try never to be away from them for long,’ he went on then. ‘Because they and my grandfather opened my eyes to a different way of life—their way of life. And I could relate to it—to them. The passion they have for the country and their animals is the same as mine, and as soon as the gauchos discovered I had a way with horses, that was it—I was one of them. It was enough for me for a time, and then—like everyone else when they’re growing up—I had to get away. I was desperate to expand my horizons—to explore that other side of me, bequeathed to me by my mother.’
He laughed as he thought about it.
‘And then?’ Danny asked.
‘My grandfather was wise enough to back off and leave me to it.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I hitched my wagon to whichever polo player was fashionable at the time.’ He shrugged. ‘By watching and learning I somehow managed to save up enough from my wages to buy my first pony. She was an old girl, on the point of retirement, but I was eager to try the game myself, and I made a passable polo pony out of her. Thanks to that mare I could take part in at least one chukka during amateur matches, where not every rider owned a string of ponies and we all did the best we could.’
‘Which brought your riding skills to the attention of those that mattered?’
‘Correct.’
She was standing close enough to touch, and that distracted him for another few moments.
‘Eventually I was entrusted with training a few medium-grade ponies.’ He cast his mind back to those uncertain days. ‘Then my grandfather became ill, but I was having too much of a good time to come home. I should have come. I owe everything I have to him. I just couldn’t see it at the time. Now do you understand why I am so committed to this place?’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘It explains a lot about you.’
‘Like why I’m such a selfish bastard?’ He laughed.
‘Like why you belong here,’ Danny argued. ‘And why you believe you can never do enough for this ranch or for the people who live here. You think you deserted your grandfather when he needed you most, but he had let you go, knowing you’d come back. He wanted you to see how wide your horizons could be. You haven’t let him down, Tiago—anything but.’
‘Some of the decisions I’ve had to make to keep this ranch haven’t been easy.’
She shook her head and laughed. ‘I think I know that.’ She looked into his eyes and hers darkened.
The pain in his groin increased. Taking hold of her wrist, he led her around the side of the house, and with the utmost self-control he held her away from him at the door.
‘Goodnight, Danny. The next time I see you will be at our wedding.’
* * *
Could there be anything more beautiful than his bride on their wedding day? He couldn’t hold back a smile as Danny walked slowly towards him down the petal-strewn aisle. She was coming to join him through packed rows of people whose smiling faces meant the world to him.
The fact that they were fast adopting Danny as one of their own was the icing on the cake for him, but he didn’t need anyone to tell him that he’d made a wonderful choice of bride. Danny had so much to offer the ranch and its people. When they were married he hoped she would play an even bigger role, adding the human touch he’d never had time to bring to the ranch.
The outdoor ceremony beneath an archway of flowers passed quickly, in a series of softly spoken words on Danny’s part and brisk assertions on his. He would take away a series of sensory memories, together with the relief of being married.
Danny was small and soft and fragrant—and so keyed-up, so alert she was almost trembling. Her close-fitting lace dress was rustling, though she wasn’t moving. It rustled when she breathed and her breasts rose above the confining fabric, and it rustled when she turned to him to speak her wedding vows, and through all this they were standing close, but not touching, and that tiny space keeping them apart was charged with electricity.
‘You may kiss the bride.’
At last he could breathe freely. He was married. He owned the ranch. The relief of having the caveat in his grandfather’s will fulfilled was indescribable. His people sensed it too and cheered wildly, standing to applaud as he cupped Danny’s face in his hands. The future security of everyone here was assured now. This was his gift to his guests. He had an aide on hand, waiting to make a copy of the wedding certificate, as well as a courier standing by to deliver a hard copy to the lawyers as