The Horseman. Margaret Way

con man, for all we know. There’s nothing would suit a con man more than to latch on to a beautiful heiress. Seduce her if he could. He certainly latched on to you and your grandfather.”

      So he did, said that harsh little voice in her head. He made a huge attempt to reach you and succeeded. As a man, Raul Montalvan was very, very seductive. It was one way to cut across all borders.

      “You can’t deny it’s a possibility.” Stuart frowned as he searched her tense profile.

      “Fascinating if you were writing a novel, Stuart, but I haven’t the slightest doubt Señor Montalvan is who he says he is. I think you’ll find he comes from a wealthy well-respected family. Bruce and Fiona must know all about him. I’m sure you could find the Montalvan estancia on the Internet, as they breed polo ponies.”

      “Maybe he’s using someone else’s identity,” Stuart suggested, still frowning hard. “It’s been done before today. Australia is a long way from Argentina.”

      She clicked her tongue angrily. “Nowhere is a long way from anywhere these days. Granddad would soon discover if Raul knew little about ranching, and polo isn’t the sport for a man without means. Besides he has all the graces expected in the son of a cultured family. He’s bilingual. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he didn’t speak other languages, as well. Italian, French, who knows?”

      “I’m getting the strong impression you admire him,” Stuart said angrily.

      “I’d say a lot of people admire him,” she said dryly. “Actually, Stuart, I’m on side with you. For all his charm, there’s something mysterious about Raul Montalvan. Something steely, possibly dangerous? He’s an enigma.”

      Stuart reeled back at some note—perhaps betrayal—in her voice. “Aw, bugger that!” he said with a burst of violent jealousy. “All I know is, such men are best left alone.”

      Such a pity, then, you’ve already burnt your fingers!