by Teri Wilson
She’d seen a different side to Franco in recent weeks. It all made sense now...the way he’d jumped at the chance to adopt a homeless puppy, his commitment to their fake relationship. Franco was a man of his word.
She was beginning to question everything she’d believed about him, and that wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. Their entire relationship had been built on a lie, and Diana preferred it that way. At least she knew where she stood. She operated best when she could look at the world in black and white. But things with Franco had blurred into a disturbing shade of gray.
She didn’t know what she thought anymore. Worse, she wasn’t sure what she felt. Because despite everything that had happened in the past, and despite the fact that just when she thought she could trust Franco he’d gone and announced to the world that they were engaged, she felt something for him. And that something scared the life out of her.
But he obviously had little or no regard for marriage, otherwise he wouldn’t have bedded Natalie Ellis. Natalie Ellis, who seemed to have no interest in Franco whatsoever.
What was going on?
“Hello, darling. Sorry to leave you alone for so long.” Franco bent and kissed her on the cheek again. “I hope Luc hasn’t been boring you.”
“No, not at all.” Quite the opposite, actually.
She smiled up at him and tried to forget all the things she’d just heard. But it was no use. She couldn’t shake the image of Franco as a young boy, sleeping on a bed of straw in a barn. What had happened to him to make him end up there? Where was his family? So many unanswered questions.
The air between them was heavy with secrets and lies, but somewhere deep inside Diana, an unsettling truth had begun to blossom.
She had feelings for Franco. Genuine feelings.
“The tango contest is about to begin.” He offered her his hand. “Dance with me?”
She stared at his outstretched palm, and words began to spin in her head.
Do you take this man to love and to cherish, all the days of your life?
She was losing it.
“Yes.” I do. She placed her hand in his. She didn’t even know how to tango, but she didn’t much care at this point. “Yes, please.”
* * *
The music started and Franco wrapped his right arm around Diana until his hand rested squarely in the center of her back. When he lifted his left arm, she placed her hand gently in his.
“I should probably mention that I don’t exactly know how to tango.” She blushed.
“Not to worry. I’m a rather strong lead.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she murmured. He took a step forward, and she moved with him in perfect synchrony. “Luc had some lovely things to say about you just now.”
They reached the end of the club’s small dance floor, and Franco spun her around. “He’s probably had more than his fair share of champagne.”
“Don’t.” Diana shook her head and slid one of her stilettos up the length of his leg. “I’m being serious. He loves you like a brother.”
Franco nodded. Her leg had traveled nearly up to his hip. He pulled her incrementally closer. “You’re right. He does. And I’d do anything for him.”
He deliberately avoided glancing in Natalie Ellis’s direction.
This wasn’t the time or place for a heart-to-heart, but something about the way Diana was looking at him all of a sudden made it impossible for him to keep giving her flippant responses.
She slid her foot back to the floor and they resumed stalking each other across the floor to the strains of the accordion music.
“I had no idea you could dance like this, Franco.” Diana swiveled in his arms. “You’re full of surprises.”
“It’s an Argentine dance.” He lifted her in the air, and her legs wrapped around his waist, then flared out before she landed on the floor with a whisper. For someone who claimed not to know how to tango, Diana was holding her own. Someone had clearly been watching Dancing With the Stars.
This was beginning to feel less like dancing and more like sex. Not that Franco was complaining.
“Tell me more about your life in Argentina,” she whispered as her hand crept to the back of his neck.
Should he be this aroused at a social function? Definitely not. He was a grown man not a horny fifteen-year-old kid. “Other than the dancing?”
“Yes, although I’m a little curious about the dancing, as well.”
He pulled her closer, but kept his gaze glued in the opposite direction. The quintessential tango posture. Convenient, as well, since he never discussed his family upbringing. But he’d witnessed a staggering amount of Drake family dynamics over the past few weeks. Hell, he was beginning to almost feel like a Drake himself. If she was asking questions, he owed her a certain degree of transparency.
“I grew up with a single mother in Barrio de la Boca. I never knew my father.”
“I see,” she murmured.
He cast a sideways glance in her direction, hoping against hope he wouldn’t see a trace of pity in her gaze. Having Diana Drake look at him in such a way would have killed him. She wasn’t, though. She seemed more curious than anything, and for that, Franco was grateful.
“My mother was less than attentive. I ran away when I was eleven. Luc’s father took me in. The rest is history, as they say.”
They reached the end of the dance floor again, but instead of turning around, Diana slid her foot up the back of his calf. “I wish I would have known about this sooner.”
He reached for the back of her thigh and ground subtly against her before letting her let go. “Would it have changed anything?”
“Yes.” She swallowed, and he traced the movement up and down the elegant column of her neck. “I’m sorry, Franco. I should have never said what I did earlier.”
He lowered her into a deep dip and echoed her own words back to her from the night before. “You’re forgiven.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the annual tango contest are Franco Andrade and Diana Drake.”
The room burst into applause.
“I can’t believe this,” Diana said as Franco pulled her upright. “We won!”
Franco wove his hand through hers and held on tightly as Jack Ellis approached them, holding a shiny silver trophy.
His mouth curved into a tight smile as he offered it to Franco. “Congratulations.”
“Gracias.” The fact that Ellis was so clearly upset by his presence probably should have bothered Franco to some extent, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.
Diana was speaking to him again. They’d only exchanged a handful of words since their engagement had been announced, and somehow he’d managed to get back in her good graces. Better than that, it felt genuine. He was starting to feel close to her in a way he seldom did with anyone.
Don’t fool yourself. It’s only temporary, remember.
“Miss Drake, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Ellis shook Diana’s hand. “Will you be joining us at tomorrow’s match?”
Diana went instantly pale. “Tomorrow’s match?”
“The Kingsmen have a game tomorrow. Surely Franco’s mentioned it.” Ellis frowned.
A spike of irritation hit Franco hard in his chest. Ellis could talk to him however he liked, but he wasn’t about to let his boss be anything but polite to Diana. “Of course I have. Unfortunately, Diana has a previous engagement.”
She nodded. After an awkward, silent beat, she followed his lead. “I’m afraid Franco’s right. I have a commitment tomorrow that I simply can’t get out of.”
“That’s too bad,” Ellis said. “Another time, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled, but Franco could see the panic in her amethyst gaze. She had no intention of watching him on horseback.
Not tomorrow. Not ever.
Ellis said his goodbyes and walked away. The band began to play again, and Franco and Diana were swallowed up by other couples.
“Come with me.” He slid his arm around her and whispered into her hair.
“Where are we going?” She peered up at him, and he could still see a trace of fear in those luminous eyes.
Franco would have given everything he had to take her distress away. But no amount of money or success could replace what she’d lost the day she’d fallen. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. Nothing he could do would bring Diamond back to life.
But maybe, just maybe, he could help her remember what it had been like to be fearless.
If only she would let him.
* * *
“Close your eyes,” Franco whispered. His breath was hot on her neck in tantalizing contrast to the cool night air on her face.
Franco’s voice was deep, insistent. Despite the warning bells going off in Diana’s head, she did as he asked.
“Good girl.”
A thrill coursed through her and settled low in her belly. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be out here in the dark, taking orders from this man. She most definitely shouldn’t be turned on by it.
She inhaled a shaky breath. Open your eyes. Just open your eyes and walk away.
But she knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t if she tried. Something had happened out there on the dance floor. She felt as if she’d seen Franco for the first time. She’d gotten a glimpse of his past, and somehow that made the dance more meaningful. Not just their tango...the three-year dance they’d been engaged in since they’d first met.
“This way.” His hand settled onto the small of her back. “Keep your eyes shut.”
He started walking. Slowly. Diana kept in step beside him, letting him lead her. Unable to see, her other senses went on high alert. The sweet smell of hay and horses tickled her nose. The light touch of Franco’s fingertips felt decadent, more intimate than it should have.
She licked her lips and let herself remember what it had felt like to take those fingertips into her mouth, to suck gently on them while he’d watched through eyes glittering like black diamonds. She wanted to feel that way again. She wanted him again, God help her.
“Be careful.” Franco’s footsteps slowed. She heard a door sliding open.
“Can I open my eyes now?” He voice was breathy, barely more than a whisper.
Franco’s hand slid lower, perilously close to her bottom. “No, you may not.”
How close was his face? Close enough to kiss? Close enough for her to lean toward him and take his bottom lip gently between her teeth?
She swallowed. This shouldn’t be happening. None of it. The sad reality of Franco’s childhood shouldn’t change the ridiculous truth of their situation. The only thing they shared was a long string of lies. This was the same man who’d called the newspapers and told them he was marrying her. It was the same man who’d so callously dismissed her the morning after she’d lost her virginity.
They were pretending.
But it no longer felt that way. Not now that she’d seen the real him.
“Franco,” she whispered, reaching for him.
He caught her wrist midair. “Shhhh. Let me.”
She waited for a beat and wondered what would come next. Franco slid her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. Then her hand made contact with something soft. Warm. Alive.
She stiffened.
“It’s okay, Diana. Keep your eyes closed. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Franco’s other arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him. He stood behind her with his hand still covering hers, moving it in slow circles over velvety softness.
A horse. She was touching a horse. She knew without opening her eyes.
I’m here. I’ve got you.
Did he know this was the closest she’d come to a horse since she’d fallen? Did he know this was the first time she’d touched one since that awful day? Could he possibly?
Of course he did. Because he saw her. He always had.
She felt a tear slide down her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut even harder. If she opened them now and saw her fingers interlocked with Franco’s, moving slowly over the magnificent animal in front of them, she wouldn’t be able to take it. She’d fall apart. She’d fall...
But this time, Franco would be there to catch her.
Or not.
How could this man be the same one who’d slept with Natalie Ellis and gotten himself fired?
It didn’t make sense. Especially now that she knew his background. She could see why he pushed people away. She could even see why he’d said such awful things after she’d slept with him three years ago. Intimacy—real intimacy—didn’t come easily to Franco. It couldn’t. Not after what he’d been through as a boy.
If anyone could understand that, Diana could. Hadn’t her own childhood been filled with a similar brand of confusion? They’d each found their escape on horseback. Which is why nothing about his termination made sense.
Polo meant everything to Franco. More than she’d ever imagined. Why would he risk it for a meaningless romp with his boss’s wife?
There had to be more to the story. She wished he would tell her, but she knew deep down he never would. And she didn’t particularly blame him.
“I lied, Franco.” She kept her eyes closed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him. “It wasn’t hate sex.”
“I know it wasn’t.” He pulled her closer against him. When he spoke, his lips brushed lightly against the curve of her neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
“I don’t hate you. I never did.” She was crying in earnest now. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t care. She was tired of the lies. So very tired.
“Don’t cry, Wildfire. Please don’t cry.” He pressed an openmouthed kiss to her shoulder. “It kills me to see you hurting. It always did, even back then.”
Her heart pounded hard in her chest. There were more things to say, more lies to correct. She wanted to set the record straight. She needed to. Even if she never saw him again after next week.
You won’t. He’s going away, and he’s not coming back.
“For three years, I’ve been telling myself I chose you because I knew you’d let me down. It’s not true. I chose you because I wanted you. I wanted you back then. I wanted you the other night. And I want you now.” She opened her eyes and turned to face him.
They were standing in a barn. She’d known as much, and she’d expected to feel panicked when confronted with the sight of the horses in their stalls. But she didn’t. She felt right, somehow. Safe.
She’d dreaded coming here tonight, and now she realized it had been a gift.
“How did you know this is what I needed?” she asked.
He cupped her face, tipped her chin upward so she looked him in the eyes. “I knew because, in many ways, you and I are the same. I want you, too, Diana. I want you so much I can barely see straight.”
“Take me home, Franco.”
Chapter Sixteen
Franco didn’t dare touch Diana in the backseat of the limo on their ride back to New York. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from making love to her right there in plain view of the driver and every other car on the long stretch of highway between Bridgehampton and the city.
It was more than just an exercise in restraint. It was the longest ninety minutes of his life.
They rode side by side, each trying not to look at the other for fear they’d lose control. An electric current passed between them. If the spark had been visible, it would have filled the lux interior of the car with diamond light.
As the dizzying lights of Manhattan came into view, he allowed his gaze to roam
. It wandered down Diana’s elegant throat, lingering on the tantalizing dip between her collarbones—the place where he most wanted to kiss her at the moment so he could feel the wild beating of her pulse beneath his lips. He wanted to taste the decadent passion she had for life. Consume it.
Diana felt each and every one of her emotions to its fullest extent. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her. Being by her side these past weeks had caused Franco to realize the extent to which he avoided feelings. Since he’d moved to America, he’d done his level best to forget the world he’d left behind. His memories of Argentina were laden with shame. The shame of growing up without a father. The shame of the way his mother had all but abandoned him.
He’d tried to outrun that shame on the polo field. He’d tried to drown it in women and wine. But it had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, preventing him from forming any real sort of connection with anyone. At times he even kept Luc at arm’s length.
Luc knew the rules. He knew not to bring up the past. He knew not to push. Why he may have done so this evening was a mystery Franco didn’t care to examine too closely.
He thinks this is different. He thinks you’re in love.
This was different.
Was it love? Franco didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. Because what he and Diana had together came with an expiration date. He’d known as much from the start, but for some reason it was just beginning to sink in. The date was growing closer. Just a matter of days away. And now that he was a member of the Kingsmen again, he’d be leaving just as soon as their arrangement came to an end.
He should be happy. Elated, even. This was why he’d gotten himself tangled up with the Drakes to begin with. This was what he’d wanted.
But as his gaze traveled lower, past the midnight blue stone that glittered against Diana’s porcelain skin, he had the crippling sensation that everything he wanted was right beside him. Within arm’s reach.
Screw the waiting.
He pushed the button that raised the limo’s privacy divider and slid toward her across the wide gulf of leather seat in under a second. Diana let out a tiny gasp as his mouth crushed down on hers, hot and needy. But then her hands were sliding inside his tuxedo jacket, pulling him closer. And closer, until he could feel the fierce beat of her heart against his chest.
