She could only answer him with a soft groan when the fiercest waves had subsided—and then he began to move his hand with more intent. She sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers worked their magic. Tiago knew just what to do, what she liked, and how to administer pleasure in a leisurely fashion, so she could savour every moment and make it last.
His fingers were so sensitive to her needs, so skilful as they went about their work. At first he avoided the place where she needed him most, and teasing her this way made her mad for him. By moving a little further forward in her chair she managed to increase the pressure of his hand, and then he passed his forefinger lightly over her straining clitoris until she gasped—only to moan with disappointment when he pulled away.
‘Not for long, chica,’ he whispered, his breath warm against her face.
His hand quickly found the ribbons holding her bridal thong in place. It was a wisp of lace, nothing more, but he took his time unlooping the bow; unwrapping her slowly, like the revealing of a gift he was in no mood to rush.
‘Move to the very edge of the chair,’ he instructed, ‘and lean back.’
She was quick to do as he said, her excitement intensified by the risk involved as their guests milled all around them.
‘There’s so much noise no one will notice what you do, but try not to cry out too loudly,’ Tiago advised. ‘Now, open your legs a little wider for me.’
She opened them as wide as she could, wanting that plump, needy place to be the centre of his universe.
‘Oh, yes...’
Excited by the risk, and by the promise in Tiago’s lazy tone, she rested back and waited.
‘Relax... Enjoy...’ he murmured, as if she needed prompting. ‘Just leave everything to me.’
Oh, she would... She would...
‘Ah...’ The touch of his slightly roughened finger-pad was exquisite.
‘I’ll catch you when you fall,’ he promised. ‘Just keep looking into my eyes and I’ll tell you when.’
‘You’ll know?’ she somehow managed to gasp out.
‘I’ll know.’
‘Oh...’ She grabbed a breath and concentrated.
Tiago’s finger was circling repeatedly, maintaining just the right amount of friction... ‘Wide,’ he reminded her, pressing her legs apart. ‘And keep looking at me.’
She grabbed a shuddering breath. ‘I’m not sure how long I can hold on...’ Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
‘I know,’ he soothed.
Those eyes—that touch...
She whimpered as he began to rub faster, and with just the right pressure. ‘I can’t—’
‘Then don’t,’ he said in a different tone. ‘Let go now...’
Tiago drowned her cries of pleasure against his chest and held her firmly as she lost control.
‘And that’s just the start of our wedding night,’ he promised, smiling down at her as she sank into his arms.
* * *
He strolled back with Danny to the house, making painfully slow progress as everyone who hadn’t yet congratulated them seized their chance. He welcomed their good wishes, telling himself that if control was good for him it was even better for Danny.
The women on the ranch had asked him if they could prepare a scented bath for her, and he had agreed, hoping this would please and reassure her. He wouldn’t risk anything going wrong now—not with so many witnesses on the ranch. His representative had already left to take the marriage certificate to the lawyers. The ranch was his, thanks to Danny.
When they reached the door he swept her into his arms and carried her across the threshold.
‘I didn’t know if you would do that,’ she said, laughing up at him, her face alive with happiness as he lowered her to her feet
‘I don’t forget anything where you’re concerned. Would you like me to help you out of your dress?’
Suddenly, she was shy. ‘If you could just unbutton it for me, please?’
Her voice was tight with nerves.
‘Whatever you want.’
This wasn’t the Danny he had enjoyed getting to know all over again—the girl who had already become an essential cog in the wheel that was Fazenda Santos. This was a girl who still harboured doubts and it was up to him to resolve them.
He had barely unfastened the last button when she picked up her skirts and fled up the stairs.
‘First on the right,’ he called after her. ‘The women have made a surprise for you.’
She paused and turned, hovering on the stairs. ‘Aren’t you coming up?’
‘Of course I am. This is our wedding night.’
Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she carried on, running to the first floor, while he held back. She reminded him of a wild pony—trapped and uncertain in its new circumstances.
‘Take your time...relax,’ he called up the stairs.
She disappeared out of sight without answering him.
The silence was heavy in the hall. Maybe that was why the shadow of doubt fell over him. He had been so certain that for this one year he could make Danny happy, and that when that year was over she would have everything she could possibly need and he would be free. But she was proving as elusive as a wisp of smoke that kept slipping through his fingers, which left him in the unique position of wondering if he could hold her for as long as a year.
* * *
Danny exclaimed with pleasure when she walked into the bathroom. The women had gone to so much trouble for her, with scented candles and fresh flowers strewn everywhere. She turned full circle, knowing that she didn’t deserve this. How could she, when her marriage was a charade? But to waste their preparations for her would be throwing their generosity back in their faces.
Releasing the hem of her dress, she let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. Climbing into the bath, she sank into the warm, sudsy water and lay back, closing her eyes. She could hear a shower running somewhere close by. When it stopped she pictured Tiago stepping out, grabbing a towel and winding it around his body. She waited a few more seconds and then sat up.
Just in time. The door opened and he was there. Just as she had imagined, his powerful torso was naked, while his body was gleaming and barely dry.
‘You’re lucky,’ he said, smiling as he glanced around her fairy dell. ‘The women have really gone to town for you.’
Her heart beat faster as he strolled deeper into the room. He picked up a towel, unfolded it and held it out. She climbed out of the bath, naked and transfixed by his eyes. She had no doubts left. This had nothing to do with the contract. This was what she wanted.
Tiago wrapped her in a towel and lifted her into his arms. He carried her into his bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Unlooping the towel from his waist, he let it drop. The room was silent apart from her breathing. The bed yielded to his weight with a sigh.
His muscles were formidable close up. She had never seen him naked before. His skin was deeply tanned to a rich bronze, and scarred from a lifetime of taking riding to the limits—maybe scarred from his youth too, she remembered, knowing he’d been wild.
She traced his tattoos, those brutal reminders of the Thunderbolts polo team, with an exclamation mark for emphasis—intended, no doubt, to strike fear into the team’s opponents. His stubble was thick,