Nacho Figueras Presents (20 page)

J
odhpurs!” crowed Pilar, clapping her hands together. “What did I tell you?
¡Muy guapo!
”

Alejandro frowned at Sebastian as the makeup artists flitted around them, touching up their faces with powder. “I don't know how you talked me into this.”

Sebastian grinned back at his brother. “You're going to be a movie star,” he said. “What are you complaining about?”

They were both kitted out in tight sweaters, white jodhpurs, high leather boots, and old-fashioned pith helmets.

“You guys look awesome,” said Georgia. “Doesn't Daddy look handsome?” she crooned to Tomás.

Kat carefully sorted through the antique mallets that the prop master had brought over and chose a stick for each of them.

The grooms led out two fresh ponies, one white and one black. “I will take this one,” declared Alejandro as he strode over and patted the black pony's neck. “What's her name?”

“
Linda
,” said the groom.

Sebastian's head shot up. “No, sorry, that one's mine,
hermano
,” he said as he hurried over to the pony.

Alejandro opened his mouth to argue, but Kat broke in, “Sebastian is right,” she said. “He should ride that one.”

Seb saw that her cheeks were pink, but she looked determined.

Alejandro scowled but went off to attend to the white pony instead.

“You boys ready?” Kat said.

“Absolutely,” said Sebastian, and when Alejandro continued to look mutinous, Sebastian leaned over and whispered, “You said you wanted me back on the field, didn't you?”

Alejandro snorted as he swung up on his pony and rode out into the field with the other players.

Sebastian prepared to mount, but Kat caught his arm and smiled up at him. “So, Sebastian,” she said softly, “let's see you fly.”

Kat called “Action!”

Squaring off over the coin flip, Sebastian looked his brother in the face and felt his heart beat faster. Kat had told them to just play a normal game. She wasn't worried about who scored a goal or when. She could edit in the story line she needed later. What she wanted was raw footage, real emotion, fireworks. So she had asked each brother to play the number three position against each other on their respective teams.

Number three—
el capitán
. Sebastian flexed his hands nervously. He had never played three on La Victoria. That was always Alejandro's position.

In fact, thought Sebastian, he had not actually played
against
Alejandro since they were boys and their father, Carlos, used to train them together.

When they were very young, they scrimmaged on their back field in Argentina with their
abuelita
, and she encouraged them to play
el picador
—for fun—just hitting the ball around on the field together, fighting over the goals, and paying attention to only the most basic rules of the game for safety's sake. She taught them to play for the sheer joy of playing.

But once Carlos took over their training, it became all about the competition. He did everything he could to pit them against each other and foster a bloodthirsty rivalry, both on and off the field. Both boys were punished badly if either of them made the mistake of not taking things seriously on the pitch.

It had been hard at first, when Sebastian was just beginning. He adored his big brother and loved their informal games on the farm, but now that they played for real, Sebastian was shocked when Jandro grimly and repeatedly beat him into the ground.

But it was even harder later when Sebastian's natural talents started to show through, and he began to win.

Sebastian could still hear his father's voice screaming at Alejandro, see Carlos's red, sweaty face pushed up into his brother's pale and shamed one. “Are you kidding me? You're letting that little boy beat you? Don't be a pussy! What is wrong with you? You're not even trying!”

And so Alejandro tried harder, and Sebastian tried less, wanting to shield his beloved
hermano
from their father's ugly rants and disdain.

And eventually, Alejandro grew up and took over the number three position on the team, and Sebastian didn't ever think to question that.

But deep down, both men knew the truth. Alejandro was a great player, but he had to fight to stay at a level that Sebastian could achieve just by stepping onto the pitch. And Sebastian automatically held himself back to make sure that he never showed his elder brother up.

Sebastian simply had a gift that Alejandro did not.

The coin was tossed, and the ball pitched in. Alejandro caught it and sent it hurling down the field and then galloped after it. Sebastian paused for a heartbeat, breathless, wondering if his old habits should stand.

But then he glanced over at Kat, watching behind the sideboards, and he thought of her last words to him.

“Let's see you fly.”

He gave his pony a little kick, and together they sailed down the pitch after Jandro.

He saw the look of surprise on Jandro's face as Sebastian leaned across and hooked his brother's stick before Alejandro could put the ball through the goal. Then Sebastian wheeled around and caught the ball up with his own mallet and sent it flying through the air in the opposite direction.

He looked carefully at Alejandro as he rode past him, and his heart sank when he saw his brother's bewildered expression. Sebastian took a deep breath, feeling his determination ebb. He started to slow his pony, to hold back like he always did, but then his big brother's eyes met his and narrowed, and he tilted his chin and nodded at Seb with a slow and challenge-filled smile.

Sebastian laughed joyfully and spurred his pony on, soaring down the pitch. He heard Alejandro coming up behind him, the pounding of the white horse's hooves and the ragged grunt of her breath. He sped up, but Alejandro raced his horse until the shoulder of his pony was even with Sebastian's pony. Sebastian gave a quick glance over at his brother, who met his gaze, raised one eyebrow, and grinned just before he abruptly veered over and slammed into Sebastian's horse, sending Seb over the line of the ball, and surging ahead down the field without looking back once.

Sebastian's whole body jerked, and his teeth rattled with the hit. He swore and pulled his pony up short, watching his brother disappear down the field. And then he laughed again before kicking his pony into gear and heading off in pursuit.

Kat watched the brothers zig and zag through the other player's ponies with her heart in her mouth. At some point, she had stopped seeing the game as a director, depending on her DP to make sure she got the coverage she needed. She was now just watching as a bystander, amazed at what was unfolding on the field.

“They're not really letting anyone else play, are they?” she said to Georgia, who was standing next to her with her mouth hanging open, watching the Del Campos banging into each other all over the field. “Can they do that? Isn't that against the rules?”

“I don't know what they are doing,” said Georgia. “I've never seen them play like this.”

“I've never seen anyone play like this,” added Liberty, who had joined them on the sidelines.

“I have,” murmured Pilar. “When they were boys.” Her normally placid face broke into a wide grin. “They're playing
un picadito
,” she said happily.

The brothers took turns scoring goal after goal, whooping like crazed children as they raced up and down the field. The other players gave up trying to do much more than offer an assist now and then. Sebastian and Alejandro were both playing like they had ten-goal handicaps, overpowering everyone on the field. No one else had a chance in hell of getting to the ball.

Sebastian scored another goal just as the thirty-second horn sounded. Then the chukka was over, and it was time to get fresh mounts. He'd actually lost count of the score, he realized, as he rode his pony onto the sidelines. He had no idea who was winning.

He switched over to a little roan stallion and then rode back onto the field. Alejandro was on a bay mare that reminded Sebastian of Alejandro's favorite pony at home, Temper.

“How many chukkas do you think she'll let us play?” shouted Alejandro. “This is the most fun I've had on the field in years!” There was a look of delirious joy on his face.

Sebastian blinked. For a moment, he was riding the back field of their old farm, and Alejandro had that exact same look on his face, and he was yelling and giggling and trying to hook the ball away from Sebastian, and their
abuelita
Victoria was right there riding alongside them on her old dappled gray mare, Nube.

He could hear the sound of her voice, rich with laughter. “
¡Vamos, chicos! ¡Rápido! ¡Rápido!
”

He could feel the weight of her arm as she wrapped it around his shoulders, Sebastian on one side and Jandro on the other, after they had put the ponies away and walked back toward the
caballeriza
together.

He could see her merry eyes, dark and crinkled, the soft gray curls framing her face, her lovely smile gleaming as she beamed down at him, and he felt pure, unfettered love and joy.

And then he blinked, and the teams were getting ready to go again, milling around under the bright California sun. Sebastian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wondering…

Yes, there it was.

The singular and haunting scent of dried roses.

K
at stayed late that night, watching the playback. She'd sent everyone home after the polo game ended. Sebastian and Alejandro had walked off the field with their arms around each other, talking and laughing. She'd never seen Seb look so joyful and at ease.

And now she was in video village, gazing at the monitor, breathless, watching Sebastian on his pony, breaking from the pack, galloping down the pitch…

Flying.

Watching him on that field was like seeing an entirely different side of the man. It was as if the Sebastian she had known up until now had been at rest, in disguise. The person she saw on the field was a revelation. Superman after bursting out of the phone booth.

She watched him pivot on his pony, the powerful way his muscles flexed as he raised his arm to sweep the ball, the intensity on his face as he made the hit. She shifted in her seat, recognizing the same look she had seen in his eyes just as he thrust himself between her thighs. The ferocity, the raw power…She trailed a finger down her own neck, felt her breath start to quicken…

“Is any of it usable?” said a deep voice.

Kat jumped, and turned to see Sebastian standing in the doorway of the tent.

She stared at him for a moment. His hair was damp and pushed back, as if he'd just come from the shower. All the time outside had turned his skin a dark cinnamon gold, which made his beautiful pale green eyes stand out even more. He was wearing faded jeans and a soft white fitted shirt, which she recognized from their first date.

“I know that Jandro and I got a little out of hand this afternoon. I hope it didn't ruin the—”

She interrupted him. “You know, I've never seen you play before.”

He blinked. “Well, I don't usually ride quite like that,” he said. “Things got a little wild.”

He walked over to her and peered into the monitor. She had paused on an image of him bent around the neck of his pony, just about to hit the ball.

He looked so beautiful. Her heart ached. “I feel like a fool,” said Kat.

“What? Why?”

She shook her head. “I told you to try something else. I didn't know.”

“
¿Que?
What didn't you know?”

“You kept saying that it came easily to you, but I didn't understand what you meant.” She swept her hand at the monitor. “It's as if I'd told Mikhail Baryshnikov he should take a break from dancing.”

He chuckled. “That's very flattering, but—”

She turned to him. “No. No, it really isn't, Sebastian. This”—she pointed at the monitor—“this is what you were meant to be doing.”

He frowned. “And here I thought I was doing okay as a producer.”

She stood up and rubbed her forehead, starting to pace. “You're a great producer. That's not what I'm saying.”

“Well then—”

She interrupted him. “I thought you were careless,” she said as she walked the floor. “I thought you didn't know how to commit to things. I didn't understand. I didn't know.” She laughed. “It's like you were an angel, and I met you without your wings.”

“For God's sake, Katarina—”

She whirled on him. “What are you even doing here? Why are you wasting your time on this set when you should be with your team, with the ponies? Why are you here?”

His face softened. “I told you why. Because I wanted to help you.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then she laughed quietly and turned away. “You really aren't Jack Hayes, are you?”

“The actor? What does he have to do with anything?”

She laughed again. “Nothing.”

“
Linda
,” he said, “I am here because I believe in this movie. I believe in your talent. You wrote something beautiful. I want to help it get made.”

She bit her lip. “God, you've never wanted me to be anyone except exactly who I am,” she said wonderingly.

He looked at her, bewildered. “Why would I?”

She crossed the room to where he stood, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

T
hey drove separately back to her house, met in her driveway, and climbed the steep stairway up to her hilltop home. Kat led the way, and with every step she took, Sebastian's desire grew. By the time they reached the top, it was all he could do not to lay her down on her front porch and take her right there.

She put the key in the door and bumped at it with her hip. “It always sticks,” she apologized, bumping again. Sebastian reached past her and pushed. Hard.

The door flew open.

“So,” said Kat nervously, “this is my—”

He stopped her with a kiss. He wouldn't wait. He couldn't. He refused to be tortured any longer. He'd been with her, seeing her, smelling her, near her—without actually having her—for far too long. His desire was liquid heat, pumping through him, filling him with an urgency that simply wouldn't let him take things slow.

She pulled away. “The door,” she gasped.

He kicked it shut with his foot.

He kissed her deliriously, running his fingers over her breasts, down the curve of her hips, cradling her rear in his hands, lifting her against him until she wrapped her legs around his back and he held her, suspended, against himself.

“Both hands,” he whispered against her mouth, and she smiled, and then he kissed her even harder.

He would never get enough of this, he thought. He would never get enough of her dark sugar smell, the heat and silk of her skin, the weight of her wild black curls as they tumbled down around his neck and over his shoulders. He would never stop wanting to taste her, to feel her, to be inside her.

She slid her legs down his and found the floor again. She fumbled at his jeans. “Now,” she breathed. “I need you now.”

“Do you have a—”

“I'm on the pill.”

He sucked in his breath and grabbed at her waistband, wrenching her jeans and panties down to the floor at the same time that she managed to open his fly and let him spring free. Then he picked her back up again, swung around to brace her against the door, and plunged her down onto his cock, feeling the hot, slick, sweet pulse of her throughout his body.

She wrapped her long legs around his back and groaned. He pulled back and then thrust into her again. It felt so good that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for long.

“Katarina,” he hissed, “
no puedo
, I can't—”

“Don't,” she said. “Just go. Don't stop. I need to feel you come.”

A wave of unbearable desire crashed over him at her words. He lost control. He pinned her against the door and thrust into her again and again, feeling her rise to meet his every move, feeling her burning heat and melting softness, feeling the fire roar inside him, raging through him, until he could barely hear or see—but just feel. Until he cried out with the force of his release, surged into her, held her tight, felt the rush and then the explosion, and then felt his body melt into hers, spent, as he collapsed against her.

“I love you,” he whispered. “
Te amo
, Katarina.”

Before she could answer, he slid down her body to his knees, cradling her behind in his hands and pulling her toward him, kissing her damp curls and then tasting the very core of her, her salty sweetness. She groaned, and her hips jolted. He pulled her back to his mouth, losing himself in her womanly slickness, sucking and licking until she shuddered and cried out, driving herself against his mouth, saying his name as he made her crest and then fall, and then crest again—over and over and over again. Then, when she was almost sobbing with pleasure, he urged her down to the floor with him, pulled off her shirt and bra, tugged his own clothes off, covered her body with his, and slipped into her once more.

It felt like a dream as he slowly moved inside her, holding himself up so he could watch her face. Her skin glistening with perspiration, the deep, ragged sound of her breath as it hissed and caught in her throat. He loved the way she looked at him, her bewitching gray eyes almost stunned with emotion, her luscious mouth parted and damp. He felt the way her body, which had been weak with pleasure when he entered her, slowly started to tense again, the escalation of her desire…

She arched up against him with a moan and ran her fingernails down his back. The feeling seemed to ripple through his body, magnified over a thousand times.

She pulled back. Her silvery gaze met his. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “I've missed you so much.”

Tears sprang into his eyes. “
Mi amor
,” he breathed.

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth. He ran his lips down her neck and over her beautiful, full breasts. He tasted the twin points of her coral-colored nipples. He reached down and touched her. She was soaking wet, quivering with passion. He circled his thumb against her, and she gasped, so sensitive that she was immediately sent over the edge yet again, her muscles tightening around him with frantic spasms, a sound of sweet pleasure torn from her throat. “Sebastian,” she cried out, “oh God, oh God, I love you.”

And then he was over the edge as well, spiraling with her, surging into her. They fell into each other, holding each other tighter and tighter until, at last, they both found their final release and collapsed against each other, consumed and exhausted.