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lead for a lunging rope, and Matías stepped backward, moving to the edge of the arena, a whip in his hands, which would be used, not to harm the animal, but to signal changes in what he desired Fuego to do. When he wanted him to change his gait, when he wanted him to stop, or turn.
But, as had happened every time in the past couple of months, Fuego balked. He more than balked. He reared, nearly turning himself over onto his back. Camilla felt a spike of rage, and before she knew what she was doing she was tearing out of the stable and heading toward the arena.
Her face was on fire, her heart beating quickly, and this time it had nothing to do with Matías’s breeches.
“Tonto!” she shouted. “You know he doesn’t like it. And you insist on doing it. He’s going to injure himself.”
It took her a moment to realize what she had just done. That she had just shouted at the master of the domain, while in his domain. That she had just undone two months of attempting to go unnoticed by rendering herself as conspicuous as possible.
“I see,” Matías said, taking too long strides across the arena and heading toward her. “You fancy yourself a great trainer, do you?”
Those dark eyes pinned her to the spot, her feet nearly growing down into the grass as he moved to the edge of the fence. She took a step backward, with great effort, trying to put some distance between herself and her formidable boss.
“Not great, perhaps,” she said, attempting to keep her voice low and steady. “But I know the horse.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I came here...” She desperately tried to improvise. “I did not lie when I said that I would have no home if I wasn’t hired.” She cast a look at the rancho foreman just to be sure that he was listening. So that he could corroborate at least that part of her tale. “I came from the Alvarez rancho. I’m familiar with Fuego. I can work with him.”
“You’re only just now telling us this?” Matías asked, shooting his foreman an appointed glare.
“Don’t blame Juan. I didn’t tell him. I was afraid to draw attention to myself. But now I see that Fuego is not going to acclimate to this new environment. Or to new trainers. I could ride him.”
Matías leaned over, resting those strong forearms over the top rail of the fence. “I am to believe that Cesar Alvarez allowed a scrawny boy to ride one of his most prized horses? That this beast responds to you?”
“That’s right,” she said, tilting her chin upward. “I have a way with him.”
She had always had a way with difficult horses, just like her father had. It was a gift. One that Cesar Alvarez had believed you either had or didn’t. He had told her it was in her DNA, as it was in his.
It had been their sole point of connection. Her father had been entirely invested in the rancho, and anyone who loved him had to love that place just as much. And she did. She very much did.
“I’m not letting you anywhere near that animal.”
“Why not?” she asked. “What do you have to lose?”
“It’s not so much what I stand to lose as what I don’t want to have to cope with. I would rather not have to respond to an inquiry over a foolish boy breaking his neck on my rancho.”
“I’m not going to break my neck,” Camilla said. “But Fuego might snap a limb if you continue to handle him like this. I hear that you’re very good with horses, Señor Navarro, but I have not yet seen it.”
“You think insulting your boss is the way to long-term employment?”
“I assume that you are a man who would appreciate honesty. You are allowing your pride to get in the way of making the most of your animal, and I daresay I have seen it many times before.”
One of Matías’s dark brows shot upward. “Many times?”
“Yes. During the year I was employed with Cesar Alvarez. There were a lot of rich men with animals they could not handle.”
“I’m a horseman,” Matías said. “Not simply a rich man.”
“You are a businessman primarily. That is nothing to be ashamed of, but it does mean that your focus is split.”
Then Matías did something she did not expect. He laughed.
“All right then, boy. Come into the arena and show me what you can do.”
Matías could not believe the unmitigated gall of the youth standing rooted in the grass only a few feet away from him. He could not be older than fourteen, and he spoke with the kind of boldness that grown men did not have in his presence. Although, in many ways that made sense.
Fourteen was that sort of age. When a boy could have all the bravado in the world, and not be aware of what consequences might befall him.
Matías was certain he had been similarly brash at that age. In all actuality at thirty-three he was still as brash, it was just that when you were a billionaire with limitless funds and no small amount of power, it was not considered brashness. It was simply considered reasonable.
He was a man of responsibility also, and one who—unlike the rest of the men in his family—cared about doing what was right. He cared about the ranch. About the village the ranch supported.
His abuelo was currently playing games with it. But Matías wasn’t to be trifled with. The old man had pitted Matías and his older brother Diego against each other, saying they had to comply with specific terms, and whichever of them managed in an allotted time frame would get their share of the ranch and the family assets upon the old man’s death.
If they both complied, they would get half each.
But if only one did...to the victor went the spoils.
Matías had no doubt he would be the one to win. Marriage was one of his grandfather’s stipulations, and Matías had secured his union to Liliana Hart a couple of months earlier. He had known her casually for years. Had seen her at various functions with her parents, and her father had indicated he wouldn’t be opposed to the union and Matías had seen it as an opportunity.
That was the sort of man he was. Decisive. Not opportunistic in the way his grandfather or brother were. He did things right.
And he reaped rewards for it.
He had expected the youth to back down the moment he had realized the manner of the man he was coming at. But he had not. Which Matías could only grudgingly admire.
The boy followed his command, moving closer to the arena, a scowl on his face.
Matías looked over at Fuego, his tempestuous new acquisition. The horse possessed the ability to be great. Matías knew it. He was an excellent judge of horseflesh. He was also an extremely skilled trainer. But the animal had refused to come to heel, no matter how long and hard Matías worked with him.
Though it galled him to admit the boy was correct, he was. Matías was also a businessman, and his work often demanded that he spend time away from the rancho. That meant having others work with the horses in his stead.
His family was an old one in Spain, and had been breeding champions for generations. But it had long ceased to be their primary source of income. And Matías was involved in various retail conglomerates across the world, his business centered in London, not in Spain.
Though he had achieved a level of status that allowed him to work from wherever he wanted, as various other business associates and dignitaries would meet with him wherever he chose, it still required a fair amount of travel.
So yes, in that way, this urchin boy was correct. The fact that Matías was a businessman did keep him from dedicating everything he had to the animals.
Matías regarded the boy as he walked over to the animal, who immediately seemed to still in his presence. If