‘Me?’ Jess exclaimed incredulously.
‘Can’t you see it? Can’t you see how much he needs you—how much you need him? You complete each other. You’re the missing parts to each other’s heart. Perhaps I can see it clearly because I have The Sight, but you do too, don’t you... Skylar?’
Jess smiled crookedly as she stared into the eyes of a woman she trusted like no other. ‘Who told you my mother’s name for me?’
‘Dante. He doesn’t open up very often, but when he does and I see the man behind the scars I love him like a brother. Neither of you is looking for pity, Jess, I know that, but what you should be looking for is love to fill the hollow in your heart.’
They hugged and then Maria whispered, ‘Okay now?’
‘Okay,’ Jess confirmed, burying her face in Maria’s shoulder. ‘And so honoured that you’ve asked me to be part of your special day. Are you sure you trust me to wear this?’ she asked as they broke apart and Maria took the beautiful gown she wanted Jess to wear off its hanger.
Jess viewed the intricately worked creation with awe. The beading was so delicate, and the cut of the gown so flattering it belonged in a costume museum rather than on the sturdy body of a hill farmer’s daughter.
‘Of course I’m sure,’ Maria stated firmly. ‘You’ll look beautiful. Pale peach is the perfect foil for your fiery auburn hair.’
‘I’ll take good care of it,’ Jess promised, vowing silently not to step on the hem and rip it, or snag the beading with her ragged nails.
As if reading her concerns, Maria added, ‘Señor Acosta has arranged a beautician and a hairdresser to attend me, and I hope you’ll join in the fun. I’m guessing you’re not used to that sort of thing any more than I am. It would give me confidence,’ she insisted. ‘Señor Acosta has made the premier guest suite on his estancia available for our use.’
‘I... Oh...’
What was wrong with getting changed into a bridal outfit in Dante’s house, apart from the fact that it was a reminder that Jess had no happy occasion on the horizon, or anywhere close, for that matter?
‘It would really help me,’ Maria said, having no doubt interpreted Jess’s expression as stage fright. ‘Neither of us is used to dressing up in such finery, but I’d feel so much better if you’d share this experience with me. I’d really value your honest opinion.’
‘You can be sure of it,’ Jess promised warmly. This was Maria’s day and she’d give her all to it.
* * *
Dante had offered to act as father of the bride and give Maria away, but Maria had refused, saying she would walk herself down the aisle. Maria’s attitude reminded him why he had hired her. No-nonsense and capable in so many ways, Maria, in turn, reminded him of Jess, a woman he confidently expected to appear at any moment, dressed in a provocative slip of a bright red dress. It was too late to wonder why he hadn’t agreed to purchase Jess’s staid choice, which would at least have given him chance to relax.
As if by some silent signal the excited chatter surrounding him died down. There was a rustle of best clothes as everyone stood up. A few more tense seconds passed and then a guitar began to strum, announcing the arrival of the bride. A collective sigh went up, but Dante was facing forward. He was no romantic and was more concerned about Jess’s absence. The seat he had saved for her was still empty. Was something wrong?
He focused his attention of Manuel, Maria’s soon-to-be husband. The man appeared to be overwhelmed with emotion. He’d never seen Manuel cry. He might well cry with a lifetime of hen-pecking ahead of him, Dante reflected.
A waft of unbelievably agreeable perfume accompanied by the rustle of delicate fabric finally forced him to turn around. To say he was stunned by Maria’s arrival would be seriously understating the case. But he was looking past Maria to her one and only bridesmaid, Señorita Jessica Slatehome.
This was Jess as he’d never seen her before. Dressed in a gown so ethereal and lovely it belonged in a painting rather than on a living, breathing woman—or it would have done, had that woman not been Jess. He was also struck by the fact that Jess had made no attempt to overshadow the bride. He’d seen that before, but Jess had chosen to wear very little make-up, and must have directed the hairdresser to draw her hair back demurely at the nape of her neck, rather than allow it to cascade down her back in all its fiery rippling glory. She wore no jewellery to catch the eye, though it occurred to him she might have none to wear...
Sensing his interest, she turned her head to look at him. Her face was perfectly composed, though her emerald eyes held enough of Skylar to make him anticipate the rest of the day even more than he had expected.
And then she was gone.
Moving on down the aisle until she came to a halt behind the bride and groom, Jess shattered his honourable resolutions and left Dante counting the seconds until he could be with her again.
* * *
Jess hadn’t been to many weddings, and though she had a few ideas about the high-octane atmosphere on such occasions she could never have anticipated the level of testosterone at this one. Dante’s wranglers were young, tough and high-spirited, while Maria’s relatives were gitanos, experts in the art of flamenco with their own customs and language.
Maria’s people had enriched Spanish culture for centuries with their valuable contribution of music and dance and finely crafted wares, and many of the young women who had travelled down from their mountain villages were extremely beautiful. Safe to say, Dante’s ranch hands were on full alert.
Dante had instructed his people to erect the marquee on the paddock closest to his ranch house. The path leading up to it was lined with candles and flowers while the inside of the tent was a riot of music, excited guests, colourful clothes and flashing jewellery. Blooms so perfect they hardly looked real filled the air with exotic scent, but what touched Jess the most was the sight of the toughest men with their recently smoothed-down hair and newly shaven faces. All except for Dante, who had gone for his customary rugged look, and who, apart from his dark, custom-made suit, managed to look as swarthy and as dangerous as he ever had.
Concentrating fiercely on Maria so as not to be distracted by him, Jess found tears pricking the back of her eyes. Maria had never looked more beautiful in a wedding gown that gave more than a passing nod to the flamenco tradition of her kin. It would be no exaggeration to say that Maria had been transformed from diligent housekeeper to fairy tale bride.
Who didn’t love a wedding? She couldn’t help but glance at Dante, and there was her answer. Maria had already told her he’d refused a seat of honour at the front, as Dante believed that was where Maria’s relatives should be seated. In a position halfway down the aisle, he was already restless. Dragging her attention away, she was just in time to take Maria’s bridal bouquet as the ceremony began.
Incense swirled while soft words of praise were spoken, though through it all an underlying tension and discreet glances suggested the congregation’s thoughts were already turning to more earthly pleasures.
When the ceremony ended Maria called out excitedly, ‘I’m married! I’m married!’
To which her new husband replied in a rather different tone, ‘Terminado! Ya he terminado! I’m done for! I’m done for!’ which set the entire place rolling with laughter.
‘You may kiss the bride...’
The poor priest battled in vain to restore order to a congregation that was more interested in partying. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and applauding, while Maria, being tiny, disappeared completely behind a wall of guests. The first intimation Jess received that the bride was safe was when the bridal bouquet came sailing over the human barricade to land squarely in the centre of her chest. Cradling it close to keep it from being trampled, she backed straight into a roadblock that turned out to be Dante Acosta.
‘I’m getting you out of here before you’re squashed to a pulp,’ he informed her.
>
‘You’re not using your stick.’
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ Dante growled as he forged a passage for them through the crowd. The throng parted like the Red Sea to allow him through, and it was only when he had her safe on the fringes that Dante relaxed and turned to face her. ‘You sure you’re okay?’
‘Thanks to you, even Maria’s bouquet made it through.’
‘You know what this means, don’t you?’ Dante prompted as he stared at the lush arrangement Jess was holding close to her heart.
‘Maria can dry the flowers and keep them?’ Jess suggested, tongue in cheek.
Dante huffed at this. ‘Trust you to strip the romance out of it.’
‘Me?’ Jess queried. ‘Like you’re so romantic?’
‘I do have my moments, given half a chance.’
Excitement and jealousy roiled inside her. It was a flippant remark. Dante made it while they were eyeballing each other, but it was enough to rouse Jess. Neither emotion was appropriate, so she quickly moved on to professional concerns. ‘Where’s your cane?’
‘Thanks to you, I don’t need it so much.’
‘You’ll need it tonight. You’ll be on your feet a lot.’
Dante speared her with a look. ‘Okay, señorita, so I left it by the table. Is that good enough for you?’
‘You’re learning,’ she approved, holding his fierce look steadily.
‘I’ve got the best of teachers,’ Dante conceded with a look that sizzled its way through her veins, leaving her breathless.
Approachable Dante was far more dangerous than grim Dante, Jess concluded. His smile and the way he dipped his head to whisper in her ear made all her good intentions turn bad.
‘Aren’t the decorations lovely?’ she blurted in a lame attempt to distract them both from the sexual tension between them. The boisterous congregation had spilled out of the seating area in front of the altar, which meant the quiet place Dante had found for them would soon be swamped.
‘These pine cones remind me of home at Christmas,’ she admitted wistfully as they moved on to the shade of an awning decorated with swags and bows.
‘Maria’s people brought them from the mountains where they live. It was Maria’s dream to have everything reflect her heritage today.’
‘Which you’ve helped her achieve, and beautifully.’
‘She’s worth it. I’d trust Maria with my life.’
‘What will you do for Christmas?’ Maria had explained she was taking time off for a honeymoon, so there would be no one else living in the house, as far as she knew. ‘Will you join family?’
‘Why are you so interested?’
Jess shrugged. ‘I’m not. I just don’t like to think of people being alone at such a special time of year. I’d never leave my father at Christmas, but don’t worry, your treatment can safely be handed over by then,’ she hurried to reassure Dante. ‘And if you stick to your regime you could be back on the polo field by New Year.’
Breath shot from her lungs as Dante lifted her up in his arms. Until she realised he was moving her out of the way of the wait staff.
‘Don’t squash the flowers!’ she exclaimed to cover her breathless shock and excitement.
‘I’ll have them delivered to Maria,’ Dante offered. ‘Or do you want to hang on to them for some reason?’
‘What reason?’ Jess demanded. ‘Do you think I’m going to take a turn around the marquee to try and drum up some interest?’
‘Now I’m offended,’ Dante protested, hand on heart.
She thought of the snarling wolf beneath. ‘You?’ she queried. ‘The only certainty about you is that you enjoy teasing me. Would you care to accompany me so you can make a list of my potential suitors?’
He stared at her darkly for a moment, then laughed. They both laughed, and both relaxed. ‘I think the bride’s calling you,’ Dante prompted. ‘You’d better go and attend to your duties. How lucky am I,’ he added as Jess turned to leave, ‘to be spared the ordeal of trying to find you a mate?’
‘A mate?’ Jess queried, stopping to throw him a paint-stripping look. ‘You should be so lucky.’
Dante’s lips pressed down but his eyes were firing with laughter. ‘When I lifted you, that was what your body told me you needed.’
‘You and my body don’t speak the same language,’ she assured him in a flash. ‘And now, if you’ll excuse me—’
‘And if I don’t?’
She stared at Dante’s hand on her arm.
‘It would be my pleasure to escort you to Maria’s table,’ he murmured.
‘There’s no need. I can find my way.’
‘As I’m sitting next to you and it’s my table too, it would seem sensible for us to walk there together.’
There was nothing sensible about this, Jess reasoned as she paused. ‘It seems I have no option,’ she said at last.
‘None at all,’ Dante agreed.
Conversation between them and the other guests was lively at the top table, but on one of their many tours around the marquee to make sure everyone had everything they needed it was inevitable that Jess encountered Dante. What she hadn’t expected was that he would catch her around the waist and whirl her on to the dance floor. ‘You can enjoy yourself too,’ he insisted when Jess protested that she had her duties to attend to.
‘Your duty is to check on me and make sure I don’t overdo it,’ he informed her.
‘And how am I supposed to do that when you never listen to a word I say?’
‘My recovery would argue otherwise. You can gauge the extent of my recovery as we dance.’
And a number of other things, she thought hotly as Dante drew her close. ‘I’m not sure it’s appropriate.’
‘Uncertainty doesn’t become you, Señorita Slatehome. Should I doubt your prowess now?’
‘Not where my therapy’s concerned.’
‘What else should I doubt?’
Jess’s cheeks burned.
‘If you don’t want to dance with me, that’s another matter,’ Dante told her with a relaxed shrug of his powerful shoulders, ‘but this is our promised dance—to celebrate my recovery,’ he reminded her.
‘I don’t remember promising that.’
‘Amnesia can be a terrible thing.’
‘Don’t make jokes. I know you’re teasing me again.’
‘Am I?’
Dante’s voice was so warm and coaxing, and his body so hot and strong, that just for a moment she allowed herself to relax.
Of course she should have known better.
‘I won’t allow you to play the professional card at a wedding,’ Dante warned, ‘or assume the role of Cinderella. You can’t run out on me at midnight.’
‘So you’re Prince Charming now?’
‘I have a white horse.’
‘And an answer for everything.’
‘I do my best,’ Dante agreed.
‘If I agree to dance, it’s only on the condition that you sit down and rest afterwards.’
‘Rest?’ Dante’s lips tugged up at one corner in a smile. ‘Not a chance,’ he murmured dangerously close to her ear. ‘A resting wolf is still a dangerous animal. Your treatment worked, and now you must take the consequences.’
Why did she choose that moment to stare up into Dante’s laughing eyes?
‘That’s better,’ he whispered, drawing her attention to his mouth. ‘Relax. You have permission to enjoy yourself without feeling guilty.’
She drew in a shaking breath while Dante continued in the same soothing tone, ‘You look beautiful tonight and, as Maria is happily entwined around her new husband, you’re free of your duties, and free to dance with me.’
Oh, but this was dangerous. And irresistible. Wearing such a fabulous gown made Jess feel different, as if anything might be possible for the wo
man who wore the gown. When morning came she’d be a farmer’s daughter again and see things differently, but for now...
* * *
Something fundamental had changed between them, Dante reflected as Jess quite clearly debated whether or not to move into his arms. She knew what that entailed as much as he did. It was line crossed that could never be redrawn. The tension between them was too much for that to happen. They knew each other better, and yet in some ways not at all. There were still too many pieces of the jigsaw missing. He had pledged to keep everything professional, and so had Jess. He wasn’t satisfied with that. Was she?
What did she think about while he lay on the treatment couch beneath her hands? He had to try very hard not to think. Thinking was dangerous because the sight of her was enough to arouse him. Even the pain he suffered beneath her probing fingers aroused him. Everything about Jess was arousing, but the stakes were high because slaking his lust would never be enough where Jess was concerned. She was a special woman who demanded more of him emotionally than he had ever been prepared to give.
* * *
Banked-up feelings exploded inside her as Dante drew her into his arms. There was something so compelling and right about it, and that in itself made her wary. This wasn’t just a dance; it was a barrier crashing down. It was permission to feel, to respond, to hope for something more. She’d been so careful around him up to now, not just because of professionalism. Natural caution played its part. Dante was a player in every sense of the word. His relationships were famously many and short-lived, though at the moment he was making her feel as if she was the only woman capable of reaching him. How many others had he made feel that way?
He knew how to tease. Dante’s grip was frustratingly light and stirred a primal need inside her. Leave it at dancing or regret it in the morning, were inner words of caution she ignored. Dancing like this was a prelude to sex. Every inch of her body was moulded to his. Dante was exerting no pressure, but Jess’s body had its own ideas. His thigh was threaded through hers, bringing them into the closest contact possible outside of sex. But how—how—was she supposed to resist him? And did she want to?
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