Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(56)

Sisters.

Natasha had spent long nights as a child wishing that she had sisters.

A man in a striped shirt rode behind the group of men riding to the center of the field. He waved out at the crowd. Zoe’s team rode up to him and one by one handed him the flags.

“Federico has his hands full today,” Anastasia said, pointing at the riders. “That’s Prince William playing number three for Adrian’s team. Diplomacy might trump playing skills.”

“Never,” Coco said in a serious tone. “Not on a Tavonesi field. Federico is a polo umpire, not some bureaucrat.”

“They’re skipping the anthems.” Anastasia nodded to a tent where a man and a woman sat with microphones, stopwatches and clipboards. “We would have had to play six of them, what with Blair and Selena playing with Zoe and Vlad playing with Adrian. And William brought his number one from Bermuda. We’d be waiting all day.”

William. She’d called the future king of England William. Perhaps they were friends. Natasha truly was out of her league.

The spectators settled back into their seats. Natasha felt slightly dizzy as she leaned back into the cushioned chair.

Maybe she’d walked through some sort of looking glass and was in an alternate world. She sure felt like she was in an altered state. She should’ve had more water. Maybe the sun had gotten to her.

The umpire signaled and then threw in the ball.

Zoe whooped and swung her mallet, and the riders thundered down the field after the ball. But Natasha’s eyes were on Blair. Her golden hair was plaited and hung down her back. In her snug riding gear, she looked like a Viking goddess. Blair reached down, swung her mallet and knocked the ball to a woman wearing an identical uniform. That woman passed it to Zoe. She intercepted it and shot for the goal, but William deflected her shot and sent it in the opposite direction.

“Mio Dio, he’s good,” Anastasia cried out.

“Parker’s even better.” Coco pointed to a man near the goalposts. “That’s another of our cousins. He’s got a bit of an acid tongue, but we love him. And he rides like the devil himself.”

“Parker’s been practicing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had a thing for the woman who runs the local polo club.”

Parker passed the ball to Adrian. He drew back to hit it, but Zoe hit it first.

The ball rocketed toward Natasha. The riders chased it, thundering straight for where she sat with Adrian’s sisters. Natasha jumped up. Adrenaline shot nauseating pins and needles into her chest. She hauled in a breath as Adrian rode full speed toward her on a horse bigger than any she’d ever seen.

Coco tugged Natasha back into her seat just as Adrian and a man Natasha didn’t recognize reined up. Without a glance at either her or his sisters, Adrian connected to the ball and shot it down the field. The riders pivoted the charging horses and galloped after it.

Natasha released the breath she’d been holding.

“How can you sit so calmly with only a six-inch white board separating you from ten thousand pounds of horses thundering at us?”

“Don’t worry, all these riders are seasoned.” Coco gave her sister a sly grin. “Well, except for maybe Prince William. He’s suspect in my book. If he heads this way, we should be ready to flee.” She glanced back at the tent. “But we could have our chairs moved back a bit. It’ll get us out of the heat.”

“Coco has Adrian’s impatience with the practice of coddling royalty,” Anastasia said. “Makes her less than ideal company at the Guards tournaments in England.”

Coco signaled and three servers came over. “Would you move our chairs, please? And bring some water.” She turned to Natasha. “You look like you could use some hydration.”

Coming from Coco’s lips, the word hydration sounded like a potion from the gods. Right about then, anything would help. Yet it wasn’t the heat of the sun sending Natasha’s senses spinning. She knew as she watched Adrian riding that she wasn’t going to deny herself the opportunity to feel his strong thighs wrapped around her at least one more time.

What woman in her right mind would?

Good thing she wasn’t in her right mind.

They moved farther from the field and just as they got settled once again, a horn sounded, startling Natasha.

“Two chukkers down!” Coco offered her hand to Natasha. “Time to do some work.”

“She means tamp down the divots,” Anastasia added as she stood. “Ah, here’s the champagne. It’s fuel for the tough effort ahead.” She glanced down at Natasha’s work boots. “And those are perfect for the job. I’ve always thought it ridiculous that women in high heels pretend to be of any use for this at all. But it does allow for a parade of dresses.”

“And other attributes,” Coco said, tilting her head toward a woman in an extremely short, tight skirt and low-cut flowing blouse. “There’s a lot of husband hunting at these events.” She put her finger to her lips. “But don’t quote me. No one would ever own up to it.”

Anastasia took a glass of champagne from the silver tray the waiter held out and handed it to Natasha.

Natasha shook her head. “I have to go back to work, so no thanks.”

“Not going to happen, my dear. Adrian said to make sure that you attend the trophy ceremony.” Coco sipped her champagne and looked at Natasha over the rim of the crystal glass with a twinkle in her eye. “Rumor has it, he has a surprise for you.”