Jane Porter - Latin Lovers Untamed

Peter’s jaw tensed, lips compressing. “I meant with regards to the farm.”

“The stable’s rebuilt,” Carter interjected. “A state-of-the-art facility. Thirty-six stalls, and they’re developing their stallion barn next.”

Peter’s forehead creased. “Is that true?”

Daisy opened her mouth, but Carter answered first again. “I’m considering moving my stallion to their barn.” He shot Daisy a swift glance. “If things continue to improve as they have.”

“What about trainers?” Peter rubbed his chin as he glanced from Daisy to Carter and back again. “Since McCaw passed on, you haven’t had any big name on board. You need one. While there is considerable interest in your foal, no one will pay top dollar for a yearling that hasn’t been started right.”

McCaw meaning Teddy, who’d died in the fire. A lump filled her throat. “I’m aware of that.” She was grateful she could keep her tone calm even if it was just an illusion, because right now on the inside she was miserable.

Peter nodded brusquely. “Fine. Best of luck.” He turned to Carter. “May I have a word with you?”

Carter excused himself, and Daisy stood alone on the edge of the dance floor wondering yet again what she was doing at the Lindleys’.

“Your friend Carter could be a little more attentive.”

Daisy turned and smiled. “Dante Galván, what a surprise.”

“If you were my date, I’d never leave you alone.”

Her smile stretched. “I’m not your date, and you haven’t left me alone.”

“Touché.” A light shone in his eyes. His grin looked careless, devilish, relaxed. “Sequins and spurs, Daisy Collingsworth. You’re a very intriguing woman.”

“Kentucky Kiss can’t mean all that much to you.”

“Kentucky Kiss has nothing to do with this. I happen to like you.”

His deep voice rumbled through her, rich and intoxicating, and she felt herself grow warm and weak. “The Collingsworths are trouble,” she retorted, fighting for the right flippant note.

“I’ve always liked trouble.” He lightly touched the small of her back. “Dance with me.”

His hand burned through her sequin and mesh top. She felt herself grow impossibly warm. “Carter wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m not asking Carter to dance. I’m asking you.” His palm slid down, coming to rest on her hip, his fingertips just brushing her bottom. “Would Daisy like it?”

She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His hand felt incredible, and her body felt wildly sensitive. Suddenly she wanted to be daring and dangerous. She wanted to be all the things she’d never allowed herself to be.

A waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes passed by. Dante reached out and lifted a glass from the tray and handed it to her. “If you’re going to drink, you should drink champagne. The color suits you.”

“The color?” Her voice was all but inaudible.

“Pale gold, crisp, not too sweet and yet full and ripe in the mouth.” He lifted the glass, with her hand still on it, and drank.

She blushed at the intimacy of the gesture, and her skin glowed, taut and warm all over. “I think you’re projecting, Count Galván.”

“Call me count again and I’ll kiss you here, in front of all these nice people.”

Her blush deepened. “A promise, or a threat?”

His head dipped, and his lips brushed her cheek and then the curve of her ear. “You’d like it, Daisy.”

She ought to be outraged. Instead she was captivated by the warmth of his breath against her ear and the feel of his lips against her cheek.

The crowd disappeared and the band faded to the background. Her head tipped and she gazed at him, momentarily lost in his intensely expressive eyes.

He was beautiful. Everything about him was hard and sensual. His face was a canvas of gorgeous lines and planes. Even his mouth had the perfect shape, the lower lip slightly thrust out with a small flat indentation.

She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel his mouth against hers.

Dante could see in her eyes that she wanted him to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to kiss her since he first confronted her at the track two days ago.

He flattened his palm against the curve of her bottom and urged her closer. Bending his head, he covered her lips with his and heard her inhale, an involuntary gasp at the burst of heat flaring between them. It wasn’t his imagination. Daisy felt electric.

Her lips trembled beneath his, and he drew her closer, more fully against him even as he parted her lips to explore the inside of her mouth.

Daisy tasted warm and sweet, like clover honey, and gradually she curved into him until she fit him perfectly. He kissed her until he forgot where they were, forgot himself, kissed her until his body surged to life, threatening to betray him. And just realizing how close he was to losing control cut through the passion like a knife, forcing him to take an immediate step back.

Daisy blinked at Dante in confusion. The kiss had sent hot, sharp darts shooting from her lips to every nerve in her body. Her brain felt cloudy, and she struggled to clear the fog. What had just happened?

But before she could do anything, say anything, Carter Scott returned, and Daisy could tell by his tense expression that he’d seen the kiss.

Carter made a grab at Daisy. “I know you’re something of a playboy, count, but I have to say, you’re taking it a bit far with my date.”

Daisy reddened. “Carter—”

“No, I’ll handle this, Daisy,” he interrupted coldly. “I suggest you leave, Galván, you’ve worn out your welcome.”

“This isn’t your party,” Dante answered, thrusting his hands in his black trouser pockets. “And I have no desire to leave. Things are just getting interesting.”

Carter stiffened. “Then we’ll go.”

“Maybe you want to wait until we’ve discussed business first. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? So you and Daisy can make plans for Kentucky Kiss’s future?”

“Dante, please,” Daisy protested huskily, wondering how a night could get much worse. “Let’s not do this here.”

“Why not? Carter likes to mix business and pleasure. Especially when it comes to the beautiful Collingsworth sisters.”

Daisy felt faint. “Dante.”

“You really have some nerve, Galván,” Carter shot back, slamming his cocktail glass to the damask-covered table. “I’ve known Bill Collingsworth forever.”

“But this isn’t about Bill. It’s about his daughters and the fact that you’re hiding your true intentions behind a pseudo Southern gentleman persona.”

“I resent that! Bill and I go back a long, long way, and I happen to care a great deal about his family.”

Dante’s smile was thin, hard. “I imagine you would.”

“While it’s none of your business, the arrangements I’ve made with the Collingsworth family are legal and beneficial. They will profit. Substantially.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Dante returned, folding his arms across his chest.

“I get to breed my stallion with a champion mare. This is about horses and only horses.”

“Then if it’s that simple, you shouldn’t have a problem working with me. Daisy is selling Kentucky Kiss to me, and I’d be more than willing to renegotiate the contract with you. In fact, I’ll give you a better deal than the Collingsworths.” Dante’s eyes narrowed, his mouth slanted. “You’re an honest businessman. How can you object to that?”

“But why should I go to the trouble of renegotiating a contract if I already have one in place?” Carter was flustered.

“Because as you said, you’re a good friend of the family’s and you and Bill Collingsworth go way, way back,” he said, drawing out the words with stinging emphasis. “And good friends like to help each other out.”