Jane Porter - Latin Lovers Untamed

He took a small step toward her. “Yes?”

She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to close the distance between them, wrap his hands around her arms and drag her close. She wanted to feel him pressed hard against her, and her throat swelled closed, her body throbbing, heart hammering.

She thought he must feel her, because she certainly felt him. She felt an energy, an awareness that she’d never felt from anyone before.

Daisy swallowed hard, pressed her hands to her thighs, struggled to calm her turbulent emotions. She’d never survive a night here at this rate, much less six weeks.

“Daisy?”

No one had ever said her name that way before. He made her feel sexy, desirable. “Yes?”

His gaze was intense. He seemed to be staring into her, searching for something, and yet she didn’t know what he wanted to find. “This can’t happen here, Daisy.”

Her mouth turned dry. She blinked to focus on him better.

“Anabella is very … impressionable.”

“Most teenage girls are,” she answered faintly.

“Yes, but not all are quite so self-destructive. Anabella is on a crash course with disaster.” He hesitated, tension rolling off him in waves. “I’m responsible for her.”

Daisy felt warmth creep beneath her skin. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

His inflection made her quiver. Did she understand? He had to be a good brother, a role model, responsible. He was going to do the right thing.

But what did that have to do with her?

Dante was waiting for her to answer. She mustered a smile, feeling both awkward and unsure of herself. She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. “Actually, maybe I don’t understand. How does your responsibility for Anabella impact me?”

“This—us,” he said bluntly, gesturing toward her, “won’t work here.”

She couldn’t have been more shocked or embarrassed. He wasn’t serious, was he? And if he was, he had no right suggesting or projecting. They’d exchanged a kiss at the Lindleys’. Big deal. It signified nothing. She’d been kissed before and hadn’t planned a wedding.

“I think you’re worried about nothing,” she said tightly. She’d been clenching her teeth trying to stay calm and her jaw had begun to ache with the effort. “I’m not looking for romance, and if I did, I wouldn’t look to you.”

Color flared in his cheekbones. “I could make you eat your words.”

“That wasn’t a dare, Dante, just a statement of fact. You like to think that you’ve got me—and life—all figured out. Well, you don’t. You might be able to control yourself, but you can’t control others, and you certainly can’t control me. I’m here for one reason and one reason only—to work with Señor Gutierrez and learn how to run a more efficient stable.”

His amber eyes blazed, and she ignored the whisper in her head that said she was being too confrontational, too Daisy.

“You are attracted to me,” he insisted.

“Just like I’m attracted to a thousand other men. But I don’t chase them and I don’t hop into bed with them. So you can relax, count, you’re safe with me.”

Suddenly he was moving toward her and lifting her to her feet. Just his hands on her arms made her shiver, but when his leg bumped her knee, wedging her feet apart, she gasped for air.

“What was that?” he murmured, his mouth near her ear, his lips brushing her skin as he drew her close against him, hip to hip. “Were you eating your words, maybe?”

She shuddered at the feel of his chest against her breasts. He was warm and hard where she was soft. It was delicious and torturous at the same time. “Not a chance.”

“False courage is worse than no courage,” he taunted, shifting slightly, and just that subtle swing of his hips made her sinfully aware of his arousal. She ached in every place he touched, and fireworks exploded beneath her skin.

Helplessly she sucked in a breath, her head spinning, senses reeling, every nerve in her so taut and alive that she felt as though she’d burst out of her skin any moment. “You’re the one making assumptions.”

“I’m not making assumptions. I want you. You know I want you, but we can’t have an affair because it’s not the right example to set for Anabella.”

Fire-hot shivers raced through her. She’d never felt so heated before. “No. We can’t have one because I don’t want one with you!”

“You can’t admit the truth.”

“The truth is we’re only together now because we’re stuck with the lousy decisions our fathers made. We have nothing in common, we would have never been attracted to each other if we weren’t forced to work together, and this … this energy or chemistry or whatever you want to call it isn’t real.”

He laughed grimly. “It’s as real as anything else in life, muneca .”

“Well, I don’t feel a thing.” And that was a lie, she thought, because her legs had melted and her body felt like honey and she wanted him so badly she thought she’d pop out of her skin.

He knew she was lying, too.

His eyes darkened, his head shook once and then his mouth covered hers in a hard punishing kiss, a kiss that stole her breath, clouded her head and turned her legs to mush.

His tongue thrust against the edge of her teeth, flicked the inside of her lower lip, and when she opened her mouth to him plundered the warm, moist recesses.

The incredibly sexual thrusting of his tongue gave her a graphic idea of what his body would do to hers given the chance, and she shuddered in response, desire surging through her in wild, unmitigated waves.

A moan of frustration escaped her, and he arched her backward, dragging her hips tight against his hard groin and pressing her chest. It was a strangely vulnerable position and yet also exciting.

He made her feel so hot and sensitive that when his hand slid beneath her blue cotton blouse she nearly fainted at the exquisite pleasure of his palm against her bare skin.

His touch was electric, erotic. His fingertips seemed to count and measure her ribs before cupping her breasts. This desire was something altogether new, something so wild and desperate that Daisy couldn’t think, just feel. She felt his palm graze her nipple over the lace cup of her bra and then peel the lace away and rub the nipple.

Her body had taken over; her need had a will of its own. She loved the newness of her desire, loved the intensity, as well. She’d never thought she could feel so much, hadn’t expected her hunger to be so strong.

With one hand he cupped her bottom and urged her closer to his hips, pressing her against his straining body.

Sweet mercy. Her gasp left him in no doubt as to her feelings, nor did her helpless response as his hips ground against hers, his arousal pressing between her thighs, striking the most tender of nerves.

Her breasts felt heavy, the nipples thrusting against her shirt, her thighs clenched, desire throbbing in her belly. She’d strip here, if he wanted. She’d strip him, too, and—

A car horn blared in the distance, over and over, as though the driver were leaning on it.

Daisy heard the noise in a dim part of her brain and managed to ignore it. But Dante heard it and with a guttural groan pulled away.

“This is real,” he said thickly, as she swayed on her feet and clung to his arms, “but this is what can’t happen. Not here. Not in Argentina, and especially near my sister. Comprehende? ”

He was furious, but whether with her or himself she couldn’t tell. She stared into his eyes, saw the fire mix with anger, desire with frustration and knew he was right. This was not a good thing and couldn’t be encouraged, much less permitted.

“Comprehende,” she replied, pushing back from him, her face warm, her body throbbing.