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“Did you enjoy it?” Dante
asked.
“Do you need to ask?”
“But?” he probed, riding up alongside.
“What do you mean?”
He gave her a look. “I know when something’s troubling you. I can sense it.”
“Do you also know when you can’t help?”
“Like you Rose, I’m not easily put off.”
“I don’t have a problem,” she insisted.
“If you say so.”
As Dante’s lips pressed down, she knew he didn’t believe her.
Her sensible bra was completely see-through now it was wet. She turned her horse away so Dante couldn’t see her burning cheeks. He’d think her naïve. She was naïve to agree to this in the first place. Any form of one-on-one encounter with Dante was bound to have undercurrents, and swimming practically naked in the sea sent all the wrong messages. Dismounting, she collected her uniform from the rock where she’d left it neatly folded and dragged it on over her still-damp body.
She covered herself as Dante rode up. Naked, apart from his black boxers, he was a breath-stealing sight. It was a battle to keep her stare leveled on his face.
“What?” he asked as he dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree.
“That was wonderful. Thank you. You were right to persuade me to come.”
“For Lucifer’s sake,” he reminded her.
“Of course.” To say nothing of the full body-and-heart experience of being with Dante. He made her feel like a woman. Not just a trainer, a sister, a daughter…a woman. She liked the feeling. She liked it a lot.
Which was her hard luck, Rose concluded. Her body she could deal with. But her heart? Her heart was a willful and foolish thing that insisted on longing for things it couldn’t have. Like Dante.
“I have to get back,” she said into a suddenly awkward silence. “Routine is everything where Lucifer’s concerned, and he’s due a feed.”
“Is it really Lucifer’s routine that concerns you, or something else?”
You almost naked… You like a magnet, drawing me closer to danger with every breath. You… You… You…
If a door closed in Dante’s face, he’d find a window to climb through. Had he chosen this dramatic setting to stir her senses: crashing waves, gleaming rocks, golden beach, inhabited only by Dante and his fierce black stallion? Well, he’d succeeded, because she wanted him more than ever. She was even tempted to throw herself on his mercy and explain why she’d been crying last night.
And what type of reaction did she think she’d get?
Did it matter so long as she explored every avenue to help her father? There was only pride standing in her way.
But pride was all you had sometimes.
“I’ll see you back at the ranch.” Mounting up, she gathered the reins, but Dante stood in front of her so she couldn’t go anywhere. “I’ve still got work to do,” she insisted.
“You work for me.” Dante was equally insistent as he kept his hand on her reins. “And we’re not leaving yet. You need to warm up after your swim,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. And just when she was thinking, how nice, he cares, he added, “I don’t want you taking time off sick.”
“Thanks for the concern, but—”
“But you can help me build a fire,” Dante supplied in a voice that suggested she’d better do as he said if she wanted to keep her job.
Dismounting, she looped Lucifer’s reins over a branch, and then managed to stumble on a rock she hadn’t noticed and almost fell in to Dante’s arms. Having steadied her, he let her go disappointingly quickly. But that moment of contact was incredible. And incredibly dangerous, Rose scolded herself, because it just took her back to feelings going nowhere.
