‘I would never stop you leaving if you got a better offer, though I’d fight like hell to keep you—’
As his head groom?
Of course as his head groom. What more did she expect?
She didn’t want that to be her future. What Rose longed for more than anything was a proper work-life balance, and for that balance to include Raffa on both sides of the equation. She just didn’t know how to achieve it. Work had always been her safe space that allowed her to shut out everything else—the arguments at home, and the grief at the loss of her mother, and then, more recently, her ever deepening feelings for Raffa.
‘I’ll do anything I can to stop you making a fatal mistake,’ Raffa insisted as he swung the wheel to bring the SUV to a standstill at the steps of the Acosta jet. ‘But I refuse to stand by and watch you take a disastrous path that can only lead to a dead end. I know your potential, Rose, and I can’t let you squander it. Your father’s future is secure. What he needs now is space, so the professionals have the chance to help him. He’s at a stage where guilt is his main enemy, which is why it’s important for him to know that you have a life too.’
Rose exhaled and shook her head. ‘You know just which buttons to press.’
‘I have no ulterior motive here. I’m simply being honest with you, Rose. It’s time for you to let go. It’s your turn to fly.’
‘Taking my foot off the pedal at work doesn’t come naturally,’ she admitted, wondering if they were still talking about work. Was this polo superstar Raffa Acosta making his bid for the woman he believed was the best head groom, or was Raffa asking Rose to stay for another reason? This wasn’t a movie with a happy-ever-after ending guaranteed. Life was tougher than that.
Yes, Rose’s inner critic agreed, for once. When you want something, you have to go for it. You have to take risks—not all of them calculated. Sometimes it’s necessary to act on pure instinct.
And if that means returning to Spain?
Raffa hadn’t made a fortune in tech only to live in the Dark Ages. She could still be in touch with her father’s therapists and with the programmes at the retreat, as well as with her brothers and anyone else Rose needed to contact. There was actually no excuse for her to stay behind in Ireland. She could work anywhere in the world and still keep her foot on the pedal. But there was something to sort out first. ‘Even after a letter of resignation, you’d have me back?’
‘What letter of resignation?’
When he stared at her like that, Rose knew exactly what she had to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ROSESETTLEDSTRAIGHTback into life on the ranch. After a week of rest, during which Adena took over as Head Groom, Rose began to feel refreshed. Sleeping late, and eating her fill of the delicious food on offer, together with swimming in the river when she wasn’t riding flat out through the lush green meadows with the wind in her hair, all contributed to her growing sense of peace. There was only one thing missing, and that was Raffa, who’d said she needed space.
Not this much space, Rose reflected as she paced the office he’d set aside for her. It wasn’t all bad. Máire had contacted Rose out of the blue to say she’d like to be involved in the new retreat. Working with friends was a gift Rose had found on the ranch, and she was thrilled to think it could continue in Ireland.
Her thoughts returned to Raffa and she sighed, missing everything about him—the chat, the laughter, the banter they’d shared, as well as their closeness. At least she could concentrate on work while he was away. Well, that was the theory, until she left the office to go to the tack room, where she found her friends clustered around the TV. The feature they were watching showcased a man who lit up the screen.
‘Romance?’ Raffa was querying in answer to one of the reporter’s questions. ‘Romance is for those with too much time on their hands.’
Rose flinched.
‘So, you’re not a romantic person?’ the reporter stubbornly persisted to a background of Raffa and Rose dancing at Sofia’s wedding.
‘I’m a practical man who believes in chivalry,’ Raffa said with a shrug. ‘An outdated quality, no doubt—’
‘Would your groom have dared to refuse you?’ the young woman interrupted with a simpering laugh.
‘The person in question knows where to draw the line—something I suggest you embrace.’ Ripping off his microphone was the producer’s cue to cut quickly to Raffa whacking a ball across a polo field with the force of a bullet to a chorus of good-natured cheers from the tack room.
‘With all that talk of chivalry, he does belong in another era,’ one of the young male grooms proposed, with a cheeky sideways glance at Rose. ‘When men were men and women did what they were told,’ he added recklessly, to the accompaniment of a bucket full of pony nuts being tipped over his head by Adena.
While chaos ensued, Rose watched a montage of Raffa on the screen. He hadn’t needed her on this business trip, as he’d only played one match. Her heart ached with longing. No amount of common sense could deal with that. The camera loved him. She loved him, and it was getting harder by the day to hide that fact from her friends.
‘There’s a letter for you, Rose,’ Adena announced as the good-natured scrum in the tack room broke up, and everyone returned to their duties. ‘I recognise the handwriting. I wonder what it is this time.’
Since the day Raffa had embarked on this latest trip, he’d been in contact with Rose constantly, not on a romantic level, of course, for which, if she had an iota of that common sense she was supposedly famous for, she should be grateful.
She was not grateful. She missed him like hell. Each delivery had contained something practical connected to her job. If there was ever a signal that it was time for Rose Kelly to get real and finally accept that Raffa Acosta had no wish to embark on a long-term relationship with his head groom, then surely, that was it? Shutting off the screen, she blanked her mind to every taut and tanned muscle.
‘Aren’t you going to open the letter?’ Adena pressed.
‘Not here.’ Rose smiled apologetically. She craved the privacy of her room. ‘It’s probably just a list of instructions to add to those I already have,’ she said as she tucked the envelope into her pocket.
