The Spaniard's Untouched Bride

She nodded. “I am.”

Matías nodded once in return, those well-sculpted lips turning down slightly. She felt...immobilized by them. Just for a moment. She didn’t think she had ever seen such a handsome man. Not in her whole life. And here she was, dressed as a boy. And even if she wasn’t, he would never look twice at her.

No man ever had. Matías Navarro would hardly have been the first. But even if there had been a possibility, it was rendered completely impossible by two things. He thought she was a boy, and he was engaged to his counterpart in beauty.

Liliana was the human version of a meringue. A confection of a woman. All light, airy and pastel. Sweet and beautiful.

Standing anywhere near her made Camilla’s bones feel heavy. Made her shoulders feel broad, and her height absurd.

The sad thing was, she had a feeling that even if she was presenting as a woman she would show much the same way in the petite American’s presence.

Her one consolation was that Liliana’s Spanish was fairly atrocious.

Though, Matías never seemed to indicate that he thought so. And he often spoke to her in English, which Camilla thought sounded lovely and cultured coming from his lips. She had grown up with both languages, because of her mother, and she was familiar with the way native speakers sounded.

She preferred it from Matías’s lips.

“Be careful,” Matías said before turning away.

And Camilla was left standing there, her heart thundering hard. And she knew that it was not beating quickly because of adrenaline anymore. That it was something else. Something impossible and terrible. Something that had to be ignored at all costs.

Fernando Cortez was going to have an introduction to Fuego today. Matías had arranged to watch the meeting, and he had also managed to get Liliana to agree to come watch, as well. They drove in an air-conditioned truck across the property to the arena, and then he set them both up in the shade at the edge of the arena.

Liliana’s blond curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, half of her hair caught up in a row of pink flowers. Her cheeks were a pleasing, matching pink, as were her lips. She wore no makeup. Liliana often did that. He had a feeling it was, in many ways, to highlight just how beautiful she was.

She would make a beautiful wife. A very suitable wife. One that would make him the envy of many men. Certainly of his brother.

But Diego was disgraced, and he was on the verge of being disinherited. He would never marry in time to fulfill their grandfather’s will, and, as a result, it would leave Matías in charge of everything. The whole of the Navarro rancho, and all the stock.

Plus, it would eliminate the opportunity for his brother to get his hands in Matías’s business. That was actually his primary concern. That Diego would end up part owner of Matías’s company, even if it was a minority share. Because when Matías had started his retail empire, it had been with money from the Navarro family trust. Which would technically be half Diego’s were he to find a suitable bride.

But his brother was a villain. And out of the country after the death of his first wife, with rumors swirling around him.

He had gone on to amount to...nothing much. Gambling and whoring his way through Europe, managing to amass a fortune via misdeeds as far as Matías could see.

He and Diego had never been close, but after their mother’s death they had only gotten more distant. His older brother, growing darker, had withdrawn into himself. He had begun to act out, destroying furniture and art pieces. Setting fire to a shed on the property. For his part, Matías had built a taller wall up around himself.

Their methods for surviving a childhood with a violent father who tended toward insanity had been vastly different. For his part, Matías had kept his head down. He had stayed the course that no one had set out for him. But one he had set out for himself.

Diego, meanwhile, had seemingly drunk his father’s poison. He moved through life delighting in his wickedness. In his depravity.

Matías would not allow him to have control here. This land had seen enough suffering and cruelty.

Matías would marry Liliana and that would be the end of it all.

“He’s a beautiful horse,” Liliana said, leaning back in the cushioned chair that had been brought up to the arena for her comfort. She picked up the glass of lemonade that had been delivered for her, as well, and took a delicate sip, her pink lips on the straw captivating his attention.

He suspected his future bride was an innocent. Either that or she was quite good at acting the part of virginal maiden. It made no difference to him, in all honesty. But it was the reason he held himself back from her now.

“He is,” Matías agreed. “But a temperamental one. So far, he only responds to that stable boy.”

Liliana wrinkled her nose. “Well, that seems rather inconvenient, considering the stable boy can hardly compete in a race. Age limits, I should think.”

“Yes. But that’s why Fernando Cortez is coming today.”

As if on cue the jockey strode out of the barn and into the arena. He had a brief exchange with the stable boy, who seemed somewhat agitated. But then, the boy was easily excitable when it came to the horse. In many ways, Matías appreciated that. The boy was passionate about the horses, it could not be denied, and while he found it somewhat unorthodox to have one who must be quite inexperienced handling such things, he could not deny that the horses responded to him.

Fernando took the lead rope out of the boy’s hand, and Matías gripped the sides of his chair, sitting upright and leaning forward. “I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Matías said.

“The boy or the jockey?” Liliana asked.

Matías glanced over at the boy, who was looking downright angry now. “Either one.”

The boy crossed his arms and watched as Fernando approached Fuego, and abruptly swung himself up onto the horse’s back.

Before Matías could react, the boy was crossing the arena, flinging himself into the path of the horse, who was beginning to panic.

“Dios mio,” Matías said, moving as quickly as he could.

The horse threw Fernando, and then his hoof clipped the boy in the side of the head. It opened up a gash on his forehead, and he went down to the dirt.

Liliana was standing, a look of horror etched across her lovely features, her pink lips gone waxen.

“Stay back!” he shouted back to his fiancée. The last thing he needed was for her to get in the path of that animal. It was certainly not good for a boy to be anywhere near that animal when it was in a rage. He was not going to allow a woman in there, as well.

Fernando was already standing, backing away from the angry horse. Matías was going to fire the man, and make sure everyone knew he was irresponsible. But first, he had to make sure his youngest employee was alive.

He bent down, holding his hand in front of the boy’s nose. He was breathing. So there was that. But he was bleeding, and he was unconscious. Matías tore his shirtsleeve and pressed the cloth up against the boy’s forehead, lifting his slight form into his arms and carrying him toward the truck.

“Medico!” he shouted, putting the boy inside the truck.

Liliana had mobilized, and he knew that she was ensuring that a doctor was called.

Then he began to drive back to the house, hoping that his initial prediction of the horse killing the boy did not prove to be true.

CHAPTER THREE (#ud6a35227-a3e5-5e1b-891d-532344225730)

CAMILLA FELT WOOZY, and when she came back to herself, she felt first a shot of anger, followed by one of pain. She groaned, putting her hand to her forehead. “What?”

“You were kicked,” he said. “Not fully.”

She opened her eyes and the light hurt. But she saw that she was in a truck, and Matías was driving. “Well, yes. I imagine my head would hurt even worse if the horse had gotten me directly.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, his tone infused with urgency.

She could hardly process the question. He had never asked her that before, and somehow it made her feel...warm. But then she realized he wasn’t asking her.

At least, not her, Camilla Alvarez. He was asking his stable boy. And still, it felt significant. Even though he was only asking to make sure she didn’t have a traumatic brain injury.