Nacho Figueras Presents by Jessica Whitman Page A

it would be different, that he could be trusted with another woman’s heart. That the world that he and Noni made together was one he could happily live in…
    And now, realizing how badly she had been hurt before only made him more determined to handle her with care.
    He watched her slip off her black ballet flats and turn back to him, pressing her body against his and twining her arms around his neck.
    “Where were we?” she breathed.
    He slid his hands over the muscular curves of her body. She was so tiny but iron-hard, made strong by all her hours working with the horses and in front of her forge, hammer in hand.
    She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and kissed him feverishly, and he responded, pulling her closer, feeling her soft lips against his. He groaned and kissed her harder, feeling her twist against him in what at first he felt as desire, but then…he slowed.
    There was something wrong. Something almost frantic in her response to him, something not altogether willing or natural…
    She’s trying to escape, he thought, to forget.
    He gently pulled away and looked down at her; indeed, there was a desperate agitation in her ebony eyes that sent an icy shiver up his spine.
    “ Niña ,” he said softly, not wanting to spook her further, “let’s slow down a bit, eh? No need to rush. Why don’t you go take a nice hot bath, and I will call room service and order us some dinner. We can eat here and never need to leave the room at all tonight if we don’t care to.”
    He did not think he imagined the ghost of relief that passed over her face.
    “Yes, okay,” she said, biting her lip. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment. “That sounds nice.”
    “What would you like for dinner?” he asked as she retreated to the bathroom.
    “Surprise me,” she called over her shoulder, and then shut the door between them with a quiet little click.
    *  *  *
    He over-ordered, somehow hoping that crab salad and roasted chicken, risotto with wild mushrooms, smoked baby beets and goat cheese, a kale Caesar salad, chocolate and lemon tartlets, and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Cave Privée would soothe whatever it was that was making Noni ache so badly.
    He hadn’t spent this kind of money—on the hotel room, the cabs, room service—for ages, and it felt odd but not entirely unpleasant. He could afford it. The Del Campos paid him very well, and besides the monthly allowance he sent home to his mother, his expenses were low. He had savings, and he certainly didn’t mind splurging when it came to Antonia.
    Still, he thought, he could never keep up this kind of lifestyle in any kind of permanent way. And wasn’t that what Noni would expect? Maybe she hadn’t grown up with this kind of luxury like the rest of the Del Campo children had, but there was less than a month until she came of age and inherited her third of the estate. Wouldn’t she want this kind of life all the time once she could afford it?
    But, he thought to himself as the room service waiter wheeled in their dinner on a multitiered cart, it would be different with her. He knew that Antonia would never want him to leave the horses, and he knew that she would always work with the ponies, too.
    Then again, he reminded himself, she wanted to play on the team. That was something altogether different than being one of the barn staff. And what would her brothers think? Their little sister getting involved with their piloto ?
    He tipped the waiter as he left, then knocked softly on the bathroom door.
    “ Niña ,” he said, “our dinner is here, and I’m afraid I got a bit carried away. Not even you will be able to eat so much.”
    He leaned closer, listening to the soft hush of running water. “Noni?” he called.
    No answer.
    He knocked harder. Still no answer.
    He tried the door. It was locked. His heart beat a little faster.
    “Antonia?”
    Nothing.
    “Antonia, I am coming in!”
    He threw himself against the door, and it flew open with a