Michelle Celmer - Honeymoon with the Rancher / Nanny Next Door - Honeymoon with the Rancher / Nanny Next Door

Now she looked like a prize idiot next to Tomas’s stunning looks, self assurance and.

Oh Lord. The way he was looking at her right now. Like he cared. His lips were unsmiling, his eyes dark with anxiety. How long had she wished for someone to look at her in just this way? As though if something happened to her it would be a catastrophe? Antoine certainly never had. He’d acted as if her feelings, her needs, counted for nothing.

And counting for nothing hurt, dammit. She finally acknowledged to herself that Antoine’s betrayal of her had hurt most because she had felt inconsequential. Had felt that she didn’t matter.

Tomas’s hand reached behind her head and cradled it in his hand, cushioning it from the hard earth. “Sophia, please,” he said roughly. “Tell me where it hurts.”

His plea broke through every defence she’d erected since walking into the hotel room and seeing Antoine with his mistress. Her whole life hurt right now. She had never felt so alone. And the worst part of it was that she knew she couldn’t make sense of any of it until she figured out who she was. It was a horrible, horrible feeling to realize that she’d lost herself along the way. She was like a boat bobbing aimlessly on the sea with no direction. And it had taken this rough-and-ready gaucho to make her see it. Maybe she’d looked like a fool just now, but there was no mistaking the genuine concern in his eyes. She held on to that, letting it be a beacon in the darkness.

I hurt everywhere, she thought, and she felt the telltale sting of tears behind her eyes. And the last thing she wanted was for him to see that. She’d lost enough face today.

She gripped his forearm with her hand and pulled herself up to sit.

“It’s my fault,” Tomas berated himself sharply. “I never should have gone off ahead. I knew you were inexperienced.” He brushed a piece of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “You were doing wonderfully. You have more pluck than I gave you credit for.”

Sophia’s face softened. Did Tomas blame himself? That was ridiculous. He couldn’t have known the mare would run off.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, knowing that nothing was broken, only bruised. There was an ache in her hip from landing on the hard ground, and she suspected she would be stiff later, but the greatest harm had been done to her pride. And yet his words stirred something warm inside. Had he actually said she’d been doing wonderfully? She had been faking the whole way, trying to remember what she’d learned about riding in those two childhood rides. So she hadn’t fooled him. But she hadn’t made a disaster of it, either. At least not until the end.

“At least you know I never do things halfway,” she replied. She looked around. Both horses were standing a few metres away, looking utterly unconcerned about Sophia’s welfare. Her campero had flown off and was lying in the dust.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, and he went to the horses, gathering the reins and tethering them to the fence. He snagged her hat and came back, sliding an arm under her knees and picking her up while the campero dangled from his fingers. Her breath hitched as he stood and gave a little bounce, adjusting her weight in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you inside, what do you think?”

It was heavenly being in his arms, the primitive physicality of it thrilling. She was held closely against the wall of his chest, so close that she could see a single bead of sweat gather at the hollow of his throat. She wanted to reach out and touch it with the tip of her finger, but didn’t have the courage to take such initiative.

He began carrying her towards the house. No man had ever done such a gallant thing for her before, and it would be very easy to get swept away. But this was definitely not standing on her own two feet and the last thing she wanted was to look like some helpless female. She’d done that enough today. “Please, put me down. I can walk.”

“You took quite a fall, Sophia.” His chocolatey eyes were still heavy with concern and a tiny wrinkle marred his brow.

Her arms had gone around his neck by instinct and her body bobbed with every long stride of his legs. “Then let me walk it off. Nothing is broken, Tomas. This is silly.”

They reached the gate and she stuck out a hand, grabbing on to the metal bar and pulling them to a halt. “Let me down. You can walk me to the house if you want.” His gaze caught hers for long seconds. “The fault is mine. I felt I had something to prove, but I was wrong. I should have asked for help. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized.

He gave in and gently put her down. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She did hurt. She missed the feeling of being held in his arms already, and she ached all over. Her left hip pained when she put her weight on it. But it was just bruising. “Nothing serious. I’m more humiliated than anything.”

They took slow steps to the house. Tomas remained right by her side, slowing his strides to match hers, his right arm always near in case she needed support. “I’m the one who should apologize, Sophia. You are inexperienced with horses, and I knew that. This is all my fault. I should not have ridden ahead.”

“Why did you?” She hobbled along, looking up at him from beneath her campero, the hat resting crookedly atop her head.

“I …”

“You’re going to put that wall around yourself again, aren’t you? Fine. I get it. You are allowed to ask questions. I’m not. Loud and clear, Tomas.”

“Dios, your tongue is sharp!” He bristled beside her. “You might have been killed, do you understand? What if Neva had gone down? What if she’d rolled on you?”

He turned on her, anger darkening his face now. “I should have stayed with you. You might have broken your neck.”

“Oh, what would you care? You’ll be glad to be rid of me, admit it!” she shot back. She instantly felt bad for saying it. “Tomas, I’m …”

But he never gave her a chance.

“!Maldita idiota! I cannot figure you out. You panic at the sight of a spider, but when the danger is real …”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before giving me a skittish horse that runs at the least little thing!”

“I gave you the calmest horse in the stable!” They were standing in the middle of the yard now, shouting.

“Do you treat all your clients this way?” She scoffed, her voice ripe with derision. Her blood was up now and it felt marvelous! All the righteous anger she’d channeled into cancelling the wedding and reorganizing her life came bubbling to the surface. “Oh wait … I’m the only one. Remind me why that is again?”

“!Cállate!” He shouted. “Enough!”

And then he gripped her arms in his strong hands and kissed her.

The pain in her hip disappeared as his lips covered hers. Passion, a passion she hadn’t known she even possessed, exploded within her and she reached out to hang on to his shirt. He braced his feet, forming a solid wall for her to lean against, and in return she twined her arms around his ribs and over his shoulder blades, craving the feel of his body against hers.

This was what had been missing, she realized with a shock. Pure, unadulterated physicality. The kind of force that rushed in like a hurricane and frightened the hell out of her.

She shuddered and the fingers gripping her arms eased. His mouth gentled over hers until his lips played, teased, seduced.

It made her want to weep. How was it that even in anger this stranger seemed to know exactly what she needed? How did he know that she needed gentleness?

“Are you still angry at me?” she whispered as their lips parted. She couldn’t make herself meet his gaze; instead she stared at his mouth as though she hadn’t seen it before. Full lips, crisp in their perfection, soft when they needed to be soft, firm when they needed to be commanding …