The Spaniard's Untouched Bride. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ case somehow, right after her shower, having just been naked, she looked somehow more female.

      That was the one good thing about the dirt. It provided an extra layer of coverage. She smiled at that, stepping beneath the hot spray of water and scrubbing each inch of her body as quickly as possible.

      That was one asset to short hair, as well. The fact that it took much less time to manage. To wash. And in the morning, she did nothing with it at all.

      She hummed as she scrubbed and then shut the water off, much sooner than she would like. But really, she didn’t have the luxury of lingering.

      She dressed into the fresh clothes she had brought inside with her—nothing more than baggy sweatpants—and was just about to pull her tank on when the doorknob rattled.

      She froze, her heart fluttering like a frightened bird trapped in her chest.

      “Occupied,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice low and husky while panic raced through her.

      The doorknob quit rattling. She wrapped her chest quickly with the bandage and then gathered up her dirty clothes, taking care to hide the old bandage that she had been wearing.

      She unlocked the door, fortifying herself for who she might see on the other side, and stepped out. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words dying on her lips as her eyes made contact with Matías Navarro’s.

      “Sorry,” she said again, mumbling.

      “I was taking a walk,” he said, his voice hard. “And I saw that there were lights on in here and I came to check.”

      “I just needed a shower,” she responded.

      “There is no crime in that.”

      She shook her head and then attempted to scurry past him. But she ran into the edge of that heavily muscled arm, stumbling forward and dropping the armful of clothes in her hand.

      “Easy,” Matías said.

      Then, much to her horror, before she could act he bent down and collected her clothing. And that pale, taupe-colored medical bandage had somehow risen to the top. Obvious, she thought.

      Matías frowned. “Are you injured?”

      “I...” She cleared her throat, her head spinning, her cheeks hot. She was grateful that he had supplied that question. Because of course that was the much more logical thought to have. Not that she had been binding her breasts for the past two and a half months to conceal her gender. “My wrist was feeling tender. Just... Fuego pulled a little bit harder and in the opposite direction than I expected when I was lunging him earlier.” It was amazing how easy the lie came. Camilla had never been put in a position where she’d had to lie.

      She had always done exactly what her father expected. Which had suited her just fine as it had all centered around the rancho.

      Her mother had never required a lie. She was disinterested in her only child and did not care what Camilla was up to so long as it did not interfere with, or embarrass, her.

      She had never known whether or not she was a good liar, because the opportunity had never presented itself. Apparently, she was proficient.

      “The swelling has gone down now,” she said. “And I’m feeling fine. I was afraid it might be sprained, but it is not.”

      “That’s very interesting. Because I went over the logs earlier and did not see that in there.”

      “It didn’t matter to me,” she said, feeling the heat mounting her cheeks. “I mean, it didn’t bear noting to me.”

      “Do not mistake me, boy. It is not your health that concerns me. If Fuego is not responding to training...”

      “He is,” Camilla said hurriedly.

      Matías shifted, rubbing his thumb across the bandage. Something in her stomach grew tight, and then the whole thing flipped over. Her breasts suddenly felt heavy. Even bound beneath the fresh tape as they were.

      “If he is a danger to you...”

      “He isn’t,” she insisted, reaching out and snatching the clothing out of his hand. She couldn’t bear him touching it. She didn’t know why. It made her skin feel warm.

       Idiot. That’s because you just took a hot shower.

      “As long as you’re certain.”

      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 СКАЧАТЬ