Lady Elizabeth Fane has two choices: lose her family’s Scottish stud farm or swallow her pride and beg Chico Fernandez for help. She’d never forgiven the arrogant Brazilian polo star for abandoning her years before, so instead she will collect on the debt he owes her.
Yet in the sultry Brazilian heat passions flare, revealing feelings Lizzie thought she had long conquered. That until Chico finally reveals the truth behind his desertion and Lizzie realises that he not only has power over her body, but it’s she who is in the Brazilian’s debt.
What was it about music and sex? The rhythm, he decided. Dancing was the perfect prelude to sex. Lizzie’s breathing had quickened, and her heart was pounding furiously against his chest. What was in her head? Raw sex was swirling round them, and that couldn’t be helping Miss Prim right now. All the other dancers were intent on each other, and no doubt, the inevitable outcome of the evening for them. How did Lizzie think this would end? With a good night’s sleep?
‘Don’t fight me,’ he murmured, his mouth close to her ear. ‘Once a day during training sessions, that’s okay. Here on the dance floor? No.’
‘Stop,’ she warned him in a whisper.
‘Stop? Of course I’ll stop, if you want me to.’
Her answer was to shake her head as if she had given up on trying to reason with him, but she didn’t pull away and that brought more of her into contact with him. That brought all of her into contact with him.
‘You are a very bad man,’ she chastened him – and, unless he was imagining things, seemingly enjoying the fact.
‘I’m glad we understand each other at last,’ he murmured.
All the times he’d touched her seemed to have accumulated in her memory bank, and that wasn’t helping, Lizzie realised as they danced on – or, rather, as they gently rubbed their bodies together until the fire inside her threatened to explode right there on the dance floor with everyone watching– her head was full of Chico kissing her, and how much she wanted him to kiss her again. The excitement when his powerful body had held her trapped had been enough to make her want more. Just thinking about it had brought her to a state of arousal she’d never experienced before. And she was in no hurry to come down.
It took her a moment to realise that Chico was speaking to her. She wanted to reply, but it was hard to concentrate long enough to form the words when streaks of sensation were rippling through every nerve ending in her body and her stash of smart retorts was lost in a mist of softly pulsing pleasure. And whatever she said, she doubted anything would remove that mocking curve from Chico’s mouth. He knew his power over her was sex. She hoped he couldn’t even begin to guess how badly she wanted him. But, maybe he could. Chico Fernandez was said to have senses second to none.
She gasped as he moved his fingers – only by a fraction, but enough to make her eyes close so she could concentrate on the sensation. Her response to him had to be obvious, but she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to stop herself. She didn’t want anything to get in the way of this feeling, though some sensible part of her said she would have to find an excuse to leave the party, so she’d be safe –from herself. But not yet. She didn’t want to leave the party yet.
(4 STARS) Stephens' tale is a melding of worlds from the sultry heat of Brazil to the austere chill of the Scottish Highlands. The use of Portuguese phrases adds that genuine touch, and the heat between the couple brings the sizzle. —Debbie Haupt for RT Book Reviews March 2015
Mills & Boon Modern (UK)
Harlequin Presents (US)