Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

nervousness on to the animals.
    Esteban stood quite still outside of each stall, his gaze watchful. The prickle of unease grew until her skin felt as if a thousand pins and needles stabbed into her. She rubbed at her arms as she stepped from the last stall. The horses were eating peacefully and there was no more for her to do. She turned and faced him, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile.
    Esteban took her hand and drew her close to him. Strangely the prickling in her skin grew to a burn under the pads of his fingers. She pulled her hand away from him and ran her palms down her thighs to try to rid herself of the sensation.
    “I am always astonished at the way you have with horses. They trust you.”
    She usually enjoyed his compliments, but right now, with the master so close and vulnerable, she wanted Esteban to be gone. She’d never experienced such unease before, and she was beginning to sweat. She could feel dampness growing between her breasts. The burning on her hand faded, but didn’t stop completely. She moistened her lips and took out her pen and paper.
    I’ve always had an affinity with animals. Yes, I’ll come look at your horses in a couple of days. Why are you thinking of purchasing them? You’ve never been interested before. She certainly wouldn’t want to sell one of the beloved Peruvian Paso to him. He never so much as patted them.
    His smile was very wide, showing his perfect teeth. “I’ve discovered a love of polo. I’ve been borrowing a friend’s horses and I want my own.”
    He sounded very excited, like a young boy. She wanted to be happy for him, to share in his excitement, but he really cared nothing for horses as she did. And there was the main reason for her reluctance to take his suit as seriously as her father wanted. Ricco and Julio both rode horses every day. They cared for and understood them, and they appreciated her love and need to be around the animals as Esteban never would. Esteban Eldridge seemed an affable, likeable man, but he didn’t quite ring true for her. She was surprised her father hadn’t realized that.
    Where do you plan to keep your horses?
    “My friend, Simon Vargos, said I could keep them at his hacienda.”
    She tried not to wince at that. Simon Vargos traveled to various countries playing polo. He spent a lot of time staring at himself on videos, drinking in bars and picking up women, but no time caring for his stock. He employed grooms, but cared little whether or not they did their job.
    “Let’s go up to the hacienda and get something hot and discuss a good date,” Esteban suggested. “I don’t know what anyone is thinking having you outside if a jaguar is prowling around.” He put his hand on the small of her back.
    Marguarita’s breath caught in her throat as pain jolted through her body. She stepped away from him on the pretense of stroking the mare’s neck before once more taking out her pen and paper. She handed it to him.
    Sorry. Too busy. Cesaro needs me. We’ll get together another time.
    He frowned, using the same expression on his face when his younger sister, Lea, annoyed him. She’d always thought it rather charming, but now she felt pressured. Nothing seemed right. Her skin was too sensitive, and Esteban was a touchy person.
    “Your father would never allow you outside if danger threatened. I need to talk to your man Santos.”
    His domineering tone annoyed her. She knew Esteban bossed his sister and had a tendency to be just as overbearing with her. Normally she rolled her eyes and ignored him, but she was too worried about anyone discovering Zacarias was in residence—and what she’d done. Esteban had no idea he was encouraging her to enter the very place where the most dangerous predator slumbered.
    We all work for a living, Esteban. It is sweet of you to worry for me, but I was raised to do this.
    “You were raised to grace a man’s side, Marguarita, not work until your back breaks.” Ignoring the fact that she was scribbling fast, he continued, “Tell me about this trick you do with the horses. Do you influence them with your mind? Psychically? Lea tells me you can ride without a saddle or bridle and the horse does everything you ask.”
    She wasn’t prepared for the question and had to scratch out everything she’d been writing, something she detested. In a conversation, dialogue was back and forth, but few people had the courtesy to wait until she wrote down her responses. It was very frustrating. She