One Scandalous Christmas Eve Page 7

  ‘They appreciated that,’ Dante remarked as he led the way into the quarantine area where Moon would be allowed to roam.

  ‘No problem. I know the ponies, and soon they will too. ‘Treatment after supper,’ she reminded him as they removed Moon’s halter and set her free.

  ‘I’m braced and ready,’ Dante assured her dryly, ‘but I’m handing you over to my housekeeper, Maria, while I catch up with what’s been happening on the ranch.’

  Maria gave Jess the warmest of welcomes, but even the most informative tour of the spacious and luxuriously appointed ranch house, with its burnished wood and richly coloured furnishings, failed to distract Jess from thoughts of Dante. She had to find a way to put him out of her mind. At least until his next treatment when, for a short time only, he would be the focus of her mind and not her heart, she determined.

  * * *

  ‘I see you’ve made yourself at home,’ Dante commented later at supper. He had lined up in the cookhouse with everyone else, while Jess was behind the counter, serving with Maria and Manuel, the wrangler she’d met earlier.

  ‘And what a home,’ Jess commented, smiling as she handed over Dante’s loaded plate. ‘Maria invited me to throw myself in at the deep end, which was exactly what I wanted to do. So here I am.’

  Dante glanced around. ‘You approve?’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ she enthused. Dante’s ranch had an air of purpose and everything was of the highest quality, including the delicious food.

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘But I want to. I’m not used to idling my time away.’

  His eyes took on a darkly amused glint. ‘I’m not enough for you?’

  ‘Even with two therapy sessions a day, that’s only a few hours of my time.’

  With a shrug, he moved on and she attended to the line behind him.

  When it came to Jess’s turn to eat, there was one space left and Dante was sitting at the same table. It was a table for two, and their knees brushed when she sat down. An attempt to tuck her legs away failed. There just wasn’t enough room. ‘Sorry,’ she said wryly.

  ‘Too close to the fire?’ Dante suggested.

  ‘I can handle it,’ she assured him.

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ he agreed.

  Brooding and aloof was easier to deal with than a decidedly relaxed man, Jess reflected as she got stuck in to the spicy paella.

  ‘One last check on the ponies and then I’ll be ready for my treatment,’ he said, pushing his plate away and standing up.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  Dante stabbed his cane impatiently against the cobbles as they crossed the yard. She guessed his leg was giving him hell, as she had predicted. Her treatment on the plane had been deep and thorough. The memory of her hands on Dante’s body made a frisson of anticipation rip down her spine at the thought of doing it again. Could she resist him for an entire month? Would Jess, the coolly professional therapist, do her work and go home, or would all that longing locked inside her break free at some point?

  She could do this, she told herself as she followed Dante into the isolation block where her ponies would be kept until they had been checked over and passed fit by his veterinarians. The past had formed her and made her strong. The present brought new challenges, but so far she’d seen them through. There was no reason to suppose she’d falter now.

  The facility resembled a top-class equine hotel. She turned full circle to take it in. ‘This is wonderful.’ Spotless surroundings, spacious stalls and animals contentedly resting was Jess’s idea of heaven. She told him so.

  ‘You can move in,’ he offered, lips tugging in the hint of a smile.

  ‘If I liked hay for a bed and oats for supper, I might just do that.’ But she was laughing and relaxed; they both were.

  * * *

  His libido shot through the roof at the sound of Jess laughing, but his leg let him down by yowling on cue. He couldn’t wait long for that treatment.

  They checked each pony in turn. When Jess ran capable hands over them, murmuring soft words of encouragement, he craved the same attention. When they walked out of the stable block even the resident cats in the yard came to wind themselves around her legs. ‘Next time I’ll come prepared with treats,’ Jess promised her feline admirers, kneeling down to give them a fuss.

  ‘You have quite a menagerie,’ she commented, smiling in welcome as one of his older dogs heaved itself up from its vantage point in front of the kitchen door. Animals were the best judge of character, he knew, and from then on Bouncer stuck close to her side as they completed the tour.

  Several members of staff greeted Jess as if she’d lived on the estancia all her life. Light spilled onto her auburn hair in the veterinary hospital, setting it on fire as she chatted easily with his veterinarians in the sick bay. When they left the facility she reminded him he was due a treatment. ‘Another session tonight, and then I’ll leave you alone until tomorrow morning,’ she promised.

  Drawing her into the safety of the shadows as a truck loaded with sacks of feed trundled past, it was Jess who broke free first. ‘Sorry,’ she said as if she’d done something wrong.

  He gave a relaxed shrug. ‘Don’t apologise.’ He could get used to the feel of Jess beneath his hands. ‘See you in half an hour for my treatment? Ask Maria to show you the way to the sports complex. There are treatment rooms there we can use.’

  ‘Fine,’ Jess confirmed. ‘I’ll do that.’ But her emerald eyes were as dark as night and her tone was breathy.

  * * *

  Had that just happened? Almost happened. She was still tingling with awareness where Dante had held her out of the way of the truck. She had wanted to stay in his arms but couldn’t do that and remain professional. This was only the start of her contract and she was already in danger of melting.

  Entering the empty kitchen, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes briefly. These might be fabulous surroundings and Dante was definitely the most attractive man she’d ever come across, but that was no excuse for her to lose her grip on reality. She couldn’t afford to do that, even for a moment. She was here to treat a patient, and though the urge to continue what they’d started ten years ago—what she had started ten years ago—was overwhelming, it must remain locked in her mind. Maybe she would have to remain unsatisfied for the rest of her life, but better that than throw away everything she’d worked for on a dream that could never come true.

  ‘Can I get you something, Señorita Slatehome?’

  She jumped guiltily as Maria entered the kitchen. ‘Jess. Please call me Jess.’

  Quickly reorganising her features into those of a woman who hadn’t been thinking heated thoughts, she smiled at Maria. ‘I’m sorry to invade your beautiful kitchen, but Señor Acosta said you would be able to tell me where to find the sports complex.’

  ‘He didn’t have the patience to tell you himself?’

  Maria’s raisin-black eyes twinkled with laughter, as if this was the Señor Acosta she knew. ‘You are a very welcome invasion, Señorita Jess, and I’m happy to direct you.’

  But it was a struggle to concentrate when Maria began to explain. Jess felt as if her life had taken on a new and rapid speed and she had no way of slowing it down.

  ‘If I can do anything else for you...’ she realised Maria was saying.

  ‘No, no, that’s fine—to the side of the stable block, behind the yard—’

  Maria laughed and corrected her indulgently. ‘Señor Acosta is enough to make a saint lose concentration,’ she reassured her.

  ‘I’m hardly that,’ Jess admitted.

  ‘But you are a great improvement on previous visitors,’ Maria told her with a significant look.

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’

  As they smiled at each other, Jess felt as if
the bond that had formed the moment they met had tightened.

  ‘Señorita Jess,’ Maria added, catching hold of her before she left the kitchen, ‘I would appreciate it if you could let me know if there’s anything else you might need over the weekend, as I’m taking the day off on Saturday to start the preparations for my wedding.’

  ‘Oh, how exciting!’ And how good to have something to think about, apart from Dante. And a wedding was the best of all distractions.

  ‘You’re invited, of course,’ Maria told her.

  ‘Me?’ Jess’s hands flew to her chest.

  ‘Of course you,’ Maria confirmed. ‘Everyone on the estancia is invited.’

  Even Dante?

  Jess’s smile lost some of its sparkle. The less she saw of him in social situations, the better. Seeing him in the stable with horses was safe. Safe-ish, she amended. But weddings were emotionally charged affairs, infused with romantic overtones.

  ‘Please say you’ll accept,’ Maria pressed. ‘I think you’ll enjoy it. I’m planning a traditional gitanos wedding with a Christmas theme. It will be held before Christmas in the marquee Señor Acosta has arranged here. He’s so kind...so generous—’

  So The Wolf had a heart after all, Jess reflected wryly as Maria continued to enthuse about Dante’s many virtues. ‘I’d be honoured to celebrate the day with you, Maria.’ Whatever she thought of Dante, Jess wouldn’t dream of offending her new friend, and the prospect of attending an authentic gitanos wedding was a bonus she had never expected. ‘I’m really excited for you,’ she admitted as she and Maria shared a hug. ‘It’s a privilege to be included in something so personal and romantic when I’m a newcomer to the ranch. Please let me know if I can do anything for you.’

  ‘Just be happy here,’ Maria implored her with a long thoughtful look as they released each other and stood back.

  ‘Being welcomed like this, how could I not be happy?’

  Dante. Wanting more than he could ever give her.

  So, Jess reflected as she made her way to the sports building, twice daily physio sessions with Dante, and now a wedding. Was it even ethical to continue treating him, when all she could think about were the possibilities ahead?

  These were early days, Jess reassured herself as the sports complex loomed in front of her. All stark steel and glass, it appeared more than fit for a billionaire’s purpose. Which was more than could be said for her, Jess concluded with amusement when she caught sight of her reflection in a sheet of glass. She doubted many of Dante’s companions went to meet him dressed in scrubs and clogs, carrying a medical bag—unless he had kinks she didn’t know about. This thought made her smile, made her determined to get used to seeing him, touching him. She would rein in her feelings. She had to.

  But could she?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DANTE PICKED UP some calls while he waited for Jess in the sports block. Each supplied another small piece of the jigsaw that was Jess. He already knew she was a complicated woman, driven, successful and determined. She was also beautiful and he wanted her, but these shreds of information supplied by his team fleshed out the back-story of who she was.

  He should have known the bold teenager would rise above the tragedy of losing her mother and develop into someone whose only thought was helping others. Competent and organised, Jess’s reputation in her profession was second to none. But did he want to get close to her? Did he want to get close to anyone? The loss of his parents had been unbearable. Grief had frozen his heart.

  With nothing but his racing thoughts for company, he soon became impatient. Before the accident he’d had many outlets for his energy: riding horses, women, working out in the gym. That appetite was only slumbering. Flexing his muscles, he turned on his stomach to rest his face on folded arms. Closing his eyes, he breathed steadily and deeply in an attempt to block Jess out, and then flinched, feeling her cool hands on his skin.

  ‘Apologies,’ she said in her best no-nonsense voice. ‘Are my hands too cold for you?’

  ‘You’ll soon warm up,’ he predicted.

  Telling his body to behave was unnecessary when she began work on his muscles. ‘Infierno sangriento! Hold off!’ he warned as she delved into the site of his injury with all the finesse of a commando in the gym.

  ‘I know what I’m doing.’

  And with that she put the flat of her hands between his shoulder blades and shoved him down again. ‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed. ‘This will soon be over.’

  More accustomed to caresses and hungry, urging grips, he growled a soft warning as she kneaded and probed his tender damaged leg.

  ‘Try to relax,’ she insisted.

  ‘Are you enjoying this?’

  ‘It’s my job.’

  ‘Then improve your bedside manner,’ he rapped, ‘and while you’re at it refine your touch.’

  ‘It’s my intention to heal, not pleasure.’

  He huffed a cynical believing laugh.

  ‘Settle down,’ she instructed.

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do.’

  ‘Are you going to take over the session?’ She stood back.

  ‘Get on with it,’ he growled ungraciously.

  ‘No more talking. Or laughing,’ she added as he shook his head and huffed with incredulity that he was still here, still tolerating her torture.

  ‘You’ve got enough to think about,’ Jess assured him. ‘As I do, if these leg muscles are ever going to heal.’ To prove her point, she applied even greater force to her pummelling and kneading.

  ‘I’m not a lump of dough.’

  ‘No. You’re a lot noisier,’ she observed. ‘And far less pliable. So be quiet.’

  ‘I could fire you.’

  ‘Really?’

  She sounded far too enthusiastic about that idea, so reluctantly he submitted, but not before he had acknowledged how quickly charming Jess could revert to Jess the therapist. That impressed him. In the ability to disconnect, she was very like him.

  ‘If you don’t obey my instructions,’ she murmured as she worked, ‘these sessions will be endless.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Stop that,’ she warned in response to his amusement. ‘Any slight improvement you’ve noticed after our session on the plane only signals the fact that certain muscles and nerve endings are being called into use again. That’s a good sign, but it doesn’t mean you’re cured.’

  He gritted his teeth as she gave him a good workout.

  ‘Turn over. I need to work on the front of your leg,’ she explained.

  He couldn’t turn over until his body took the hint. ‘Give me a minute,’ he ground out, before silently reciting the alphabet backwards.

  ‘Maybe I can help you,’ she suggested with concern.

  She certainly could.

  ‘Do you have cramp?’

  He had something. The mother of all hard-ons meant taking longer than he’d thought. ‘Don’t touch me,’ he warned when Jess attempted to turn him over. ‘You might strain your back, and then what happens to my treatment?’

  ‘I’m overwhelmed by your concern,’ she murmured with a smile in her voice. ‘But if you co-operate I won’t need to strain my back.’

  ‘Wait,’ he insisted.

  ‘As you please.’

  She wouldn’t sound so prim if she knew the extent of his problem. She was killing him in more ways than one.

  At last he could turn over. ‘Carry on.’

  * * *

  Dante had the most beautiful body she’d ever seen. How could she ignore that—ignore him? Patients were at their most vulnerable on the couch beneath her hands, and Dante was no exception. She wanted to heal him and she knew what to do. She also wanted to touch and pleasure him, but that was off the menu. Thankfully, he behaved himself for the rest of the session, which allowed her to concentrate on her work.

&n
bsp; Most of the time.

  ‘I’m done for today,’ she announced as she satisfied herself that progress had been made.

  ‘Exhausted?’ Dante suggested, turning his head to look at her.

  ‘It would take more than a single session with you to do that.’

  ‘You sound very sure.’

  His expression made her blush, made her smile...made her smile broaden. It was impossible not to find some humour in this situation, and it seemed the harder she tried to remain aloof from Dante, the harder fate worked to screw up her plan.

  Trapped in the beam of very dangerous eyes, she said firmly, ‘I’m done for today.’

  ‘Muchas gracias, señorita,’ Dante murmured as he rolled off the couch.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ Jess said politely as he straightened up and towered over her. ‘It’s what I do. First thing tomorrow morning, back here, around eight?’

  ‘I’ll be in town tomorrow,’ Dante said flatly as he snatched up a robe.

  ‘What about your treatment?’

  ‘It will have to wait.’

  ‘But I need to establish a routine.’

  Dante grunted. Was this his way of dismissing her? Was she going to be ditched like the doctors in the hospital? Was he really going to risk his future mobility?

  ‘You can’t afford to miss a treatment.’

  ‘You decide this?’ he asked with a narrowing of his night-black eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ Jess said bluntly. ‘I decide your treatment programme. You’re not cured yet. If you have to go into town, I can start earlier. Name your time.’

  ‘Six o’clock.’

  He made it sound like a challenge. ‘Earlier, if you like,’ she suggested mildly.

  ‘The time suits me.’

  ‘Then it suits me too,’ she said pleasantly, as she seriously considered stamping on Dante’s one good foot.

  Rewarded by a grunt of assent, Jess had to admit the banter and contest of wills between them was arousing. Dante was a patient like no other. And there was no law against dreaming. No code of ethics could find fault with that.