Latin Lovers Untamed: In Dante's Debt / Captive in His Bed / Brazilian Boss, Virgin Housekeeper

CHAPTER SEVEN

IF HE thought his promise was a comfort to her, he was wrong.

Daisy slugged her pillow hard and then again before finally getting comfortable and falling back asleep. But in the morning her temper was still on edge.

Thankfully, working with Señor Gutierrez helped keep her mind off Dante—during the day at least. At night, however, she found herself thinking about him endlessly. It was awful wanting someone this much, awful craving contact. She thought she’d give anything to be in his arms, against his chest, breathing him in.

She’d never felt like this before. If this was lust she could do without it.

Four days passed, four very long days. When she finished work on Thursday she remained at the paddock near the stable, not able to face returning to the empty hacienda-style house.

This is for the good of the family, she reminded herself, picking up the heavy rope and tying it into a loose knot. You’re here for Dad and Zoe, and it won’t be forever.

She swung the rope over her head and let it fly. The loop landed around a fence post and she pulled hard, cinching the knot.

“Do it again.”

The voice was Dante’s, the energy his, too. Daisy felt a shiver run through her. Slowly she turned and looked over her shoulder. He was every bit as tall and sexy and devilishly gorgeous as she remembered. “Hello, count.”

Was that cool, calm voice hers? She couldn’t believe she could sound so calm when her heart had begun to race, thumping like a wild bronc.

“Can you do it again?” he asked, leaning on the fence railing, watching her where she stood in the center of the ring.

“Of course. I could lasso you, if I wanted.”

His eyes gleamed. “You’re that good?”

“I’m very good.”

His laugh, husky and low, soothed her somehow. “You’ve never lacked confidence.”

He was wearing jeans and boots and a tight black T-shirt and as he swung himself up onto the top railing, muscles popped in his forearms and biceps.

She felt heat bloom within her, and happiness, too. She shouldn’t care that he was back and yet everything in her was responding to him. Everything was turning on. “Why should I? I can do anything I want to do.”

“I’ll have to remember that.” The way he said it sounded very sexual and lethal at the same time.

He watched her move to the fence post and untie the knot she’d thrown. He was a couple feet away but she felt him so strongly that her hands shook.

“Señor Gutierrez said you’re a fast study,” he said.

The sun was beginning to drop in the sky but it was still warm, still a beautiful day. The blue of the sky stretched forever. She stalked to the center of the ring. “I could have told you that.”

“He said you know what you’re doing.”

“I think I did tell you that.” Her lips twitched. “About a hundred times.”

“Not a hundred,” he answered mockingly. “Maybe eight times.”

“Nine,” she retorted.

“You are incredibly stubborn.”

“Yes. One of my many virtues.”

“You do have many virtues, but I don’t think stubbornness is one of them.”

“Maybe you just need to learn to appreciate it.”

He laughed softly, and she cast him a cool glance. Their eyes met, and Daisy saw appreciation in his gaze, appreciation and something else that made her heart falter and her belly tighten.

He wanted her.

Her throat felt raspy as she breathed in. She forced her stiff fingers to get a better grip on the rope. Desire was something she didn’t know how to deal with, especially since that desire had to take a back seat to everything else happening.

What good was desire then?

But she couldn’t think this way, couldn’t think of the wanting or the needing because it would only lead to disappointment. If she let herself start feeling she’d just get trampled. Men like Dante didn’t make commitments. Anabella had virtually said the same thing. Men like Dante made love and walked away.

She hated the walking away part because she hated being left behind. She could ride a horse, rope a steer, jump a fence, deliver a foal. But she couldn’t say goodbye.

Yet she’d have to say goodbye. If not tomorrow, then in a few weeks. Her insides knotted. She twirled the rope higher overhead until she was standing beneath the spinning circle. “How long are you going to be back?”

“Just for the night.”

Her heart plummeted to her toes in the tips of her boots. “What brought you back?”

“You.”

She almost dropped the rope. The loop sagged and she caught the circle with her other hand. Turning to face him, she wiped a bead of moisture from her brow. “Me?”

“I need your help.” He jumped off the fence into the center of the ring. “I was hoping you’d help me with Anabella for a few days until I can find her a suitable chaperone.”

“A chaperone? But she’s in school.”

“She’s already been kicked out. She’s in her room right now, throwing a tantrum, I imagine.”

That didn’t take long, Daisy thought. “What happened?”

“The school wouldn’t tolerate her promiscuous behavior.” He said the word promiscuous as though it were a snake coiling on his tongue. “I don’t believe she’s actually promiscuous, but she’s had a boyfriend, an unsuitable boyfriend, and she snuck out of the dorm to see him last night.”

“Ah.”

The furrow between his black brows deepened. “She’s determined to ruin her reputation.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“Not all girls are so bent on self-destruction.”

“But not all girls are as intelligent as your sister. Anabella’s very bright, Dante. She’s going to push the limits.” Daisy saw his perplexed expression and felt for him, she really did. Nothing could be more difficult than an emotional, hotheaded teenage girl. Daisy knew. She’d been one once. “Try not to worry,” she added more gently. “She’ll outgrow this stage.”

“Not before I’ve lost my mind. She’s running wild.”

Daisy bent over to pick up the rope and begin coiling it together. “So leave her here with me.”

“It’ll be just for a few days, while I interview for a chaperone.”

“No. Leave her here with me until you find a new school for her, and you go back to Buenos Aires and focus on your business.” Daisy slung the coiled rope over her shoulder and braced her hands on her hips. Her long hair hung in a ponytail down her back, and tendrils clung to her warm cheeks. “You do have a corporation to run, don’t you?”

He stared at her, his gaze fixed on a damp tendril clinging to her cheek. Daisy felt the warmth in his gaze, as well as the hunger he wouldn’t act on. She didn’t know whether to respect his willpower or resent it.

“She’ll give you holy hell,” he said at length.

“I’m not afraid.”

“You’re never afraid.”

Only of my feelings for you.

But she didn’t say it. The silence stretched between them. After an awkward moment she spoke. “Fair is fair. You’ve done plenty for me, this time I do a favor for you.”

“I don’t want a favor.”

“I didn’t, either, but you forced me to accept your help. You knew we needed it. You need help now.” They both had pride, too much pride.

“I’ll pay you to watch her, or I can reduce the interest.”

“This isn’t a business deal and I refuse to make it one.”

He walked away, and taut with frustration, she threw the rope, lassoing the fence post. Bull’s-eye. Of course. Too bad she couldn’t manage her emotions as easily as the rope.

The next morning she walked with him to his car. She was lousy at goodbyes, hated goodbyes, and just wanted him to go—quickly.

“Daisy.”

She couldn’t look at him. Her heart was thudding wildly and her hands were shaking so hard she had to jam them into the pockets of her jeans.

She didn’t want him to go and felt precariously close to begging him to touch her, just once. A hand to the cheek, a touch to the neck, something, anything. “When will you be back?” Her voice sounded husky even to her ears.

“So you will miss me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But will you miss me?”

“No.” Liar, liar, she silently chanted. Of course she’d miss him. She was already missing him.

“That’s right. Daisy Collingsworth doesn’t need anyone.”

She flushed but didn’t contradict him. He was right, in a way. She’d never needed anyone before. All her life she’d been taught to face problems head-on, to not make excuses and to not ask favors. “I can take care of myself.”

Dante’s hand hovered over the phone on his desk. He wanted to call her, wanted to hear Daisy’s voice and the smart sassy things she liked to say to him. He wanted to feel her smile because he could always tell when she was smiling.

He lifted the receiver, started to bring it to his ear before replacing it in the cradle.

He couldn’t call her. There was nothing to say. Well, he supposed he could ask about Anabella, but he’d asked yesterday and everything was fine.

If only he was fine. He felt terrible.

He’d thought that putting distance between himself and Daisy would help. It should have helped. Unfortunately it wasn’t working that way with Daisy. She was far too tempting, far too smart and sexy and stubborn.

Dante smiled faintly. He must be out of his mind if he was beginning to find her stubborn streak appealing. He must be out of his mind to crave her like this.

Normally women didn’t intrude into his personal life … at least, not beyond the bedroom. He’d learned to keep his wants and needs separate, dividing love from lust, but his attraction to Daisy was confusing the issue, confusing him.

Por dios, she had him in knots, and the rawness of his desire only deepened, a fire in his gut that burned all the way through him until he couldn’t think of anything but her. He’d never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Daisy.

At the airstrip when they’d first arrived, and when he’d kissed her, she’d felt impossibly right in his arms. Her body fit his, her mouth tasted sweeter than candy, and he wanted more. And the more he wanted her the more he mistrusted his desire.

He couldn’t afford to lose his focus. He couldn’t risk Anabella’s stability or happiness.

Once he’d allowed his own interests to cloud his judgment, and the results had been devastating. While his younger brother, Tadeo, had self-destructed in Buenos Aires, Dante had embraced New York and his highprofile job on Wall Street. He had lived with a beautiful American blue blood in an expensive Third Avenue town house as though he had no ties, no obligations, no responsibilities but his own desires.

It wasn’t until he’d stood at Tadeo’s funeral that he’d faced the bitter truth. Dante had failed Tadeo. Just as their father had failed them.

Dante understood then that his needs must come second. They had to. It didn’t mean that he didn’t have needs, but he could prioritize, and he did. He couldn’t bring Tadeo back, but he could ensure his sisters’ well-being.

Now, three years later, Dante was sharply reminded of those priorities, particularly since his responsibility was cohabitating with his desire.

Roughly he lifted the phone again and dialed the estancia’s number. Daisy answered.

“How is Anabella?” he asked curtly. No hello, no how are you.

Daisy felt his anger. She didn’t understand it, either. Everything was fine at the estancia. She and Anabella had been getting on very well, and Anabella had resumed her independent studies thanks to Daisy’s supervision. “She’s fine. She’s out riding right now. I can have her call when she returns.”

“Shouldn’t you be riding with her?”

“Why? She’s seventeen.”

“And has a penchant for running away.”

“She won’t run away.”

“How do you know? You just met her less than two weeks ago.”

Daisy closed her eyes, tipped her head against her hand. What did he want from her?

“You have to watch Anabella closely,” he added. “You can’t trust her too much.”

“I’m careful.”

“And you’ll call me if she does become a problem?”

“Yes. But we’re fine. She’s fine. I’m fine.”

“That’s what you always say.”

His voice rasped, and she felt his frustration. “But isn’t that what you want me to say?”

“Only if it’s true.”

“It is true. I grew up taking care of Zoe, and taking care of Anabella isn’t as difficult as you think. She’s a great person. I enjoy her company quite a bit.”

He didn’t speak for quite a long time. “But who looks after you?”

She felt a lump swell in her throat. “I don’t need looking after.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted someone to take care of you?”

“I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself.”

Again silence stretched over the phone line. Daisy felt his tension. It fairly vibrated through the phone. “I’ll be back Friday.”

“I know. And please don’t worry, Anabella and I are managing just fine.”

Phone call over, Daisy gave herself a mental pat on the back. She and Anabella were doing fine, too.

In fact, Anabella had been on such good behavior that four days later, on Thursday, Daisy proposed an excursion.

“What would you like to do, Anabella? Go for a drive, out to lunch, maybe do some shopping?”

“All three,” Anabella answered, pouncing happily on the idea. “We can go to Santa Rosa. It’s not too long a drive, and we can shop and have lunch there.”

Hours later, Daisy sat in the plaza restaurant, clasping her cup of café con leche and leaning back in her chair to savor the warm sunshine.

It had been a wonderful afternoon, just what they needed, and Daisy couldn’t help congratulating herself for her brilliant suggestion. They’d shopped, enjoyed a wonderful meal and finally stopped for coffee at a bakery on the old town square.

The clock in the city hall tower chimed, and Daisy counted the hours. Half past four. As soon as Anabella returned from the washroom they’d need to head home.

Bill paid, sunglasses perched on the end of her nose, Daisy continued to wait for Anabella. But the minutes crept by without a sign of the teenager, and as fifteen minutes turned to twenty and twenty to twenty-five, Daisy felt dread.

Something was wrong. Anabella had been gone far too long.

Gathering their shopping bags, Daisy checked the women’s washroom and found it deserted. She asked the bakery staff if they’d seen Anabella leave. No one knew anything. Heart in mouth, Daisy rushed to the car, but Anabella wasn’t there either.

Daisy’s dread turned to denial. How could this be happening? How could Anabella disappear? It was impossible. It hadn’t happened. Daisy just wasn’t thinking clearly.

Fishing the car keys from her purse, she climbed into the car and began driving the city streets, scouring the neighborhoods, searching the narrow cobbled alleys as well as the newer boulevards. But there was no sign of Anabella anywhere.

She’d have to call Dante.

Daisy’s stomach cramped, filled with pins and needles. She couldn’t even imagine how she’d break the news to him. He’d be livid. He’d blame her. And so he should.

She didn’t have permission to leave the estancia. She hadn’t watched Anabella closely enough, especially considering the girl’s history of running away. Daisy had been lulled into complacency, and look what had happened—disaster.

But maybe Anabella hadn’t run away. The girl was an heiress, incredibly beautiful; she might have been kid-napped … or worse.

Daisy shuddered at the thought and silently blasted herself for not being more careful, not being more aware. This was not supposed to happen. Temper, anger, nerves and fear wrestled for the upper hand. Daisy’s hands shook on the steering wheel as she drove, and she chewed her lower lip, so sick at heart that the twenty-five miles back to the estancia felt like hours.

At last the private lane to the estancia came into view. Daisy switched on the blinker and signaled her turn. Driving onto the narrow road, she approached the alley of trees, and there, near the front of the trees in the shade, walked Anabella.

Daisy couldn’t believe it. Trembling, she pulled the car to the side of the road, faced the startled Anabella and opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

Daisy was so angry she could hardly see straight. Anabella’s mascara formed smudged crescents beneath her eyes, and her lipstick was worn away. “What happened? Where were you?”

The girl shifted. “I went to the ladies’ washroom but when I came back you were gone.”

“I waited a half hour for you.”

“I went to the—”

Daisy wasn’t in the mood for this. “You left the bakery, you left me there, Anabella. Where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I told you—”

“Don’t, Anabella, don’t tell me another lie. I trusted you. And you know it, too.” Seething, hands still shaking, Daisy shifted into drive and wordlessly drove them the rest of the way home.

Pulling in front of the house, Daisy spotted a luxury sedan parked off a ways, a slate-colored Mercedes gleaming in the early evening sun.

“Uh-oh,” Anabella whispered, “Dante’s home.”

It was worse than uh-oh. Dante was furious. He’d come back a day early, eager to see his sister, and he’d been waiting nearly two hours for their return.

The moment Daisy turned off the ignition, Dante wrenched her door open. “Where were you?”

Words died on Daisy’s tongue. She’d seen him angry, but this was something else. This wasn’t just fury, it was worry, fear, insecurity.

Anabella jumped into his arms. “Did you miss me?”

He pushed her back. “You didn’t have permission to leave the estancia.” Then he turned on Daisy. “What were you thinking? You didn’t have permission to take my sister off the ranch, and if you’d wanted to go, you should have called.”

Daisy climbed out of the car. She couldn’t argue with him, and after having just gone to hell and back with Anabella’s disappearing act, she realized that it could have been much worse.

But he wasn’t finished with her yet. “The housekeeper said you were gone for almost six hours. Six hours. Where were you?”

“Shopping,” Anabella answered blithely. “Daisy took me to lunch in Santa Rosa and we did some shopping before stopping for a coffee. It was lovely. It was Daisy’s idea, and we had an absolutely wonderful day.”

Daisy’s idea. How clever of Anabella. Set Daisy up so Daisy would feel too awkward, too guilty, to tell Dante about Anabella’s escapade.

But Daisy knew what Anabella had done. She knew the girl had left the restaurant, gone somewhere with who knew whom, and—

Daisy couldn’t even finish the thought, wondering how she could have possibly been so foolish as to think she could trust Anabella. She should have listened to Dante. He’d warned her. But Daisy thought she knew everything.

Her stomach burned. She felt like she’d swallowed acid. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“But we had fun,” Anabella insisted, shooting Daisy a worried side glance. “Didn’t we, Daisy? It was a great time, and I owe all my thanks to you.”

“Anabella, you go to your room, I want a word with Daisy.”

“Don’t be mad at Daisy, we had such a good time—”

“Go,” he interrupted harshly, pointing to the house. “And stay there until I come for you.”

Anabella cast Daisy a pleading last glance before fleeing into the house.

Dante jammed his hands into his olive-green slacks, white shirt open at the collar, exposing his tan throat and the hard, taut planes of his chest. He looked too raw, too virile, and Daisy felt an inarticulate craving to touch him, unbutton his shirt and slide her hand across the tanned skin.

“You had no business taking her off the property.” His voice was curt. “You should have called me, you should have asked permission.”

“If you can’t trust me, then fire me, or send me home or take some kind of action, because I’m sick and tired of words.”

“This isn’t about you and me.”

“That’s where you’ve got it wrong, Dante. This is totally about you and me. It’s about you not trusting me and you not respecting me—”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Call it what you want, but I’m not going to stand here and take another lecture from you. I’m doing my best. I’m sorry it’s not enough. But maybe you expect too much out of people. You certainly want the impossible from me.”

She walked away from him. She had to. Or she’d say something she’d regret ….

CHAPTER EIGHT

DANTE followed her, chasing her to her bedroom. “I’m not finished.”

“I am,” she retorted, reaching for the door. Her wounded pride had had it. “Move. Before I slam the door on your head.”

He stuck his foot in the door. “You’re strong, Daisy, but you’re not that strong.”

“I don’t need this. You left me in charge—”

“Correction, Daisy, I didn’t leave you in charge. I left you here to watch over my sister, but watching over her is different from driving her about the country providing her with opportunities for disaster.”

“Nothing happened.” No? she silently mocked herself. Something did happen, only you’re too much a coward to tell him.

“You’re lucky then. Because Anabella has an amazing ability to sneak off and create utter chaos, and trust me, Ana doesn’t need more chaos. She needs structure, order, discipline.”

“I was with her—”

“That’s not the point. You weren’t supposed to be out. You weren’t supposed to take the car.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m fifteen.”

“Then start acting like a grown-up!”

Her hands clenched, and she lifted one fist.

“Are you going to hit me again? Is this your way of dealing with problems?”

He was right. She was acting like a child.

Daisy dropped her hand, retreated into her room, her heart racing. She couldn’t handle this, couldn’t articulate how much his words hurt her. She wished she didn’t care what he thought, wished she didn’t care at all about him or his wretched arrogant opinion, but she did care. Cared deeply.

He’d destroyed her independence ages ago, but she didn’t want to admit it. From their very first kiss she’d wanted more from him than she’d ever wanted from anyone. With one kiss she’d taken more chances, opened herself to more hurt, than she’d ever felt comfortable doing before.

And look where it had gotten her.

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Good, because you’d lose, and frankly, I don’t have the time or energy to get into another arm-wrestling match. As smart as you are, and as independent as you like to think you are, you don’t always know what’s best.”