“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” He tilted his mouth to mine. “Happy Easter.”
“Feliz Páscoa,” I whispered, proud of myself for remembering how to say it in Portuguese.
His lips parted to take mine, and Argus nudged Leo’s arms with his muzzle, making him stagger two steps to the side.
He chuckled. “A jealous horse. I’ll never get used to it.”
With a smile, I patted Argus’s neck and grabbed his reins. “Come on, boy.”
I walked past Leo, purposely brushing my body on his. His hand stroked my waist and my smile widened.
While I took Argus’s saddle and bridle off, Leo brought him water and grain.
Minuano neighed from the next stall.
I snorted. “Hmm, my horse is jealous? And what about yours?”
Shaking his head, Leo turned to Minuano and caressed his cheek. He muttered something to the horse—in Portuguese.
“Hey, you two!” I took the saddle in my arms. “No gossiping in the stable. Especially when I can’t understand it.”
“Ha, another reason to do it!” Leo teased.
He took the saddle from me, I picked up the bridle from the ground, and we put them away in the tack room. I was placing the bridle on the wall when Leo’s hands came around me, his chest pressing my back.
“So, what else do we need to do before our families come for lunch?” he whispered, his mouth trailing a hot path on my shoulder.
I moaned. “I need to finish preparing lunch, but that shouldn’t take long. What time is it?”
“A little past nine.” He pulled my hair to the side, and I tilted my head along with his touch. He grazed his teeth on my neck, his hot breath bringing a welcomed ache between my legs. “We told them to come at eleven, right?”
“Yes,” I gasped as his hand snaked under my top.
He groaned over my ear, provoking me, while his hand traveled up my belly and under my bra. “I think I should help you to the shower before they come, morena.”
“I had plans of working on a project for my econ class,” I said, out of breath.
“How can I persuade you to work on your project another time?”
I reached behind my back and cupped the bulge in the front of his jeans. He groaned.
“Hmm, if you promise to scrub every inch of me clean,” I whispered.
“With my tongue,” he responded, as breathless as I was.
I shivered. “Yes, please.”
Without warning, he turned me around and pulled me into his arms, making me laugh.
He turned his boyish, cocky smile at me, and my breath caught. I loved these moments, when I looked at him, and even after eight months, I was still struck by how gorgeous and delicious he was, and by how much he cared about me.
And I knew this feeling would never lessen.
He walked out of the tack room, his arms tight around me, but halted when we heard the sound of a car approaching.
He dropped me to my feet. “What the hell?”
I shrugged and exited the stable, Leo on my heels, to see who it could be. My father’s car came to a stop in the parking area, and a second later, my father, my mother, and Hilary stepped out.
“I swear I told them to come around eleven,” I muttered.
Leo knotted his fingers with mine and pulled me to the arriving guests.
My father walked slowly, his arm looped around my mother’s. He looked well and healthy again, but since his incident, it was like a fraction of his strength had left him and didn’t want to come back. Nevertheless, he kept on working and riding and working some more. Twice a week, I spent my afternoons with him, learning the business involved in a breeding farm. When he could, Leo came along with me, since he knew a lot about breeding from his family’s farm in Brazil.
My mother smiled at my father, and I was reminded how much their relationship had improved in the last few months. It was like they were a young couple again. My mother had changed a little too. She was less uptight and didn’t become upset with me when I skipped teas at the club. Much to my surprise, she joined a nonprofit organization that helped women and children living or running from domestic violence. Every now and then, when the memories didn’t hurt much, I went with her.
So did Hilary.
I glanced at her. As usual, she was incredibly beautiful in jeans, a blouse, and high heels. Her golden hair fell in waves behind her back, and she looked more like an angel than a real girl.
Looking at her, nobody could tell what she felt on the inside. Unfortunately, she had rough times after the day Eric showed his real claws. She had nightmares and didn’t like being alone with men—any men, except for my father and Leo. She was going to therapy, and apparently, it was working, but slowly.
But she was young, and I was sure she would recover fully. Someday.
A little uncomfortable about being shirtless, Leo crossed his arms.
“Sorry we came so early,” my father said, embracing me. “But your mother insisted.”
She slapped his arm in a playful way. “I thought she could use some help with cooking, cleaning, hiding the eggs.”
I opened my mouth to tell them the eggs were already hidden, but then Hilary stepped in front of me with a basketful of colored eggs, and I shut my lips.
“Good thinking,” I said, taking the basket from Hilary. “Well, come on in.”
We turned toward the house, but stopped when we heard a new sound of cars driving down the road. Two cars. Leo’s family.
He looked at me, his eyes wide, and I chuckled. Oh well.
His father and mother walked up to us with bright smiles.
After Leo’s suspension and Eric’s arrest, João Pedro and Leo seemed to be working out their problems. After a day-long meeting and an open interview with the press where Leo told his version of his past—or what he felt comfortable talking about—the club allowed Leo to come back to the team, and a couple of weeks later, offered them a new contract—of three years. And, according to them, chances were that the contract would be renewed for another three years. But I wasn't worried about that now.
Ri, Pedro, Bia, and Gui slid out of the second car. Ri had broken up with his girlfriend-almost-fiancée after finding out she had been the witness who told the press about the insides of Leo’s past, after Eric ratted him out. She tried defending herself, saying she was upset by being left behind because of Leo, but Ri couldn’t forgive her. Pedro and Gui continued single and partying, not too hard though. And Bia had a bought with her parents and applied to colleges all over the country. Soon, she should be receiving acceptance or rejections letter, though João Pedro already told her that if she insisted on going to college, she could go to Santa Barbara—he wouldn’t allow her to go anywhere else. However, she had told me that she would just leave when the time came, with or without his blessing.
João Pedro held a thermal bottle, but slapped Leo’s chest with his free hand. “Go put on a shirt, boy!”
Leo groaned and tightened his arms over his chest.
“Bom dia,” Agnes said with a chimarrão in her hand. “We thought about coming early to help you two, but I’m guessing we weren’t the only ones with that idea.”
My mother laughed. “Isn’t that nice? We can prepare everything together now.”
Bia rolled her eyes. “Awesome. And my bed already misses me.” She stopped by my side and bumped her shoulder on mine. “Hey, do you think the bed in your guest room would want me?”
I chuckled.
“How about we start, then?” Leo asked. Everyone agreed, and he gestured to the house.
“Good idea,” Bia said, jumping in front of everyone. “The guest bedroom is mine!”
We watched as our early guests walked the path leading up the porch steps, chatting like a big happy family.
“I don’t know if I’m glad they are here early or not,” Leo said.
I smiled. “I’m trying to be glad.” I pulled him to me, putting my arms around his neck. “Think about this, i
t’s a good thing our families get along. And”—I brushed my lips on his—“we still have the entire night to enjoy each other.”
With a smile, Leo snaked his arms around my waist. “I like the way you think, morena. In fact, I’m pretty sure I love everything about you.”
I clasped my hand on his nape and pulled him to me. “Good. Because I love everything about you too.”
About the Novel
This novel has been in the making for so long.
In October 2009, a new Britney Spears video went live on YouTube. Please, don’t hate me, but I kinda like her songs. Anyway, I watched that music video and loved it. Radar, that’s the name of the song. The music video was a story in itself, but I so wanted to tell the story of that story, if that makes sense.
I was working on a time travel romance at the time, but I jotted down any notes that came to me about this “polo” idea (that’s what I called it, the polo manuscript). There were too many notes, and I couldn’t stop researching. I found out about Facundo Pieres (if you guys follow me on Facebook or Pinterest, you did see pics of him. You’re welcome). He started playing very early, he plays with his brothers, his father was a famous player, and I was like, "Dude! This makes a great novel!" Leo’s past though was all from my imagination. As far as I know, Facundo has never been in any trouble like that. If he did and you know it, don’t tell me. Let me preserve this perfect image of him in my head.
Anyway, I kept on listening to Britney Spears’s song and jotting down ideas for this novel.
At first, Eric wasn’t the psycho he turned out to be … he just wasn’t right for Hannah, and she never saw it because she started dating him too young and was still starstruck. But then when Leo arrived and they had more in common, she would notice Eric wasn’t her perfect match. However, that wasn’t strong enough, you know. I didn’t want Hannah cheating on Eric, or simply falling for the new guy. I wanted to put more between Hannah and Eric. So the psycho idea came after I saw my mother-in-law reading a book about psychopaths. The book is called Mentes Perigosas: O Psicopata Mora ao Lado—in English it’s Dangerous Minds: The Psychopath Lives Next Door, by Ana Beatriz Barbosa Silva (I swear I came up with Bia’s name before knowing about this book). Anyway, this book (in Portuguese) is about how to identify psychopaths in our everyday lives, since most are not like Eric is in this novel. Most are people who use their charms and social skills for their gain. They don’t mind who they hurt along the way, and they could be anyone, even our best friends. That’s when I thought, hmm, Eric could be like that, but I could take him to the extreme. So I read that book, and two other books on psychopaths to try and come up with a “good” psycho Eric.
At this point, I was listening (and watching) Hilary Duff’s Stranger (again Hilary’s name came way before I watched that video and incorporated it in my playlist). Have you seen that music video? The actor who plays her love interest is the same one in the Radar music video! Listen to this song (or watch the music video). Did you pay attention to the lyrics? See? It’s perfect for the story.
Also, at first there was no Argus. And no grandma’s ranch. It’s incredible how a story can grow in three years, just by thinking and developing it. When I started hashing out the ideas for Hannah’s grandma and her ranch, and how to put her in more conflict with Eric and her father, I had the idea for Argus. And that’s when I remembered that movie The Horse Whisperer. Love that movie. I re-watched it, and then I learned that the horse whisperer in the movie was actually inspired on a real horse whisperer. Yeah, don’t throw stones at me. I didn’t know, sorry. So I researched Buck Brannaman, the real horse whisperer, and I watched his movie (or documentary, if you will) Buck——trust me, you want to see this movie. And guess what? In the movie (I was already halfway done writing the novel then), Buck tells the viewers about his younger years, when he lived with an abusive father. It’s no secret, but since I didn’t know him, I didn't know this. I was OMG! Seriously … I’m writing about an abusive boyfriend!
You know when things click together, and they look like it was meant to be? This novel is all about it.
Acknowledgments
I’m always afraid of acknowledgments because I’m certain that I’m going to forget to mention someone important … but here’s a try:
First, I want to thank my husband for his support. Sometimes I look at him and can’t believe my luck. We’ve been together for twelve years now, and it has been nothing short of amazing. Thanks for always understanding when dinner was late or when I didn’t go to sleep when you did. Thanks for believing in me and encouraging me. Thanks to my dear daughter, for not minding playing only with daddy when mommy is obsessed with words. Thanks to the rest of my family too. I miss you all!
Thanks to my cousin Viviane and my friend Clarissa for helping me out with horses names, and thanks to Ana Augusta for helping with morena, the nickname Leo calls Hannah.
Thanks to Mateus Dourado - when I asked about a nickname for Hannah on the internet, he said I should call her flor (flower) and, while chitchatting about it with him, the idea of the flower Leo always gives Hannah came to me. So, thank you, Titan!
I also want to thank some people who have been supporters of my writing since I was a teenager: Letícia, Racchele, Fabíola, Silvia, Lane, Rafaela Berger …
A big thank you to my dear CPs and beta readers who read only a few pages, or the whole manuscript and helped me making it better: Jani Grey, Priya Kanaparti, Magan Vernon, Diana Gallagher, Alyssa Rose Ivy, and Sawyer Bennett. And a special holler to Susana. She’s always up to reading anything I write.
Thanks to my local writing friends─Ginger, Cris, and Ghenet─many of the words in this book were written in your company!
Though he probably will never read this (here’s hoping), I want to thank Facundo Pieres for the being Leo’s inspiration. Much of Leo’s life and achievements were inspired from Facundo, and I bet this story wouldn’t have the meaning it has if it wasn’t for the complexity of Leo’s character and his dynamic with the other characters.
Another person who will never read this is Buck Brannaman, but I need to mention him here. Thanks for doing wonders for all the horses out there, Buck.
To Sarah Hansen for doing an amazing job with the cover, as usual. It’s incredible. I just give her the blurb and she does it, with her eyes closed, I bet. And it turns out perfect.
I want to thank my editor, Dani Crabtree. Thank you so much for putting up with me, changing dates, and helping with my deadlines. More important, thank you for believing in me and this novel.
And thank YOU for reading it! :)
About the Author
While Juliana Haygert dreams of being Wonder Woman, Buffy, or a blood elf shadow priest, she settles for the less exciting—but equally gratifying—life as a wife¸ a mother, and an author. Thousands of miles away from her former home in Brazil, she now resides in Connecticut and spends her days writing about kick-ass heroines and the heroes who drive them crazy.
Visit her at: Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | NA Alley
You can find more books by Juliana Haygert clicking here.
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