Nacho Figueras Presents Read Online Free PDF

table. Her plate was more than full. And she was definitely not looking for love.

Chapter Seven
    S ebastian dismounted from his horse and threw down his mallet in disgust. All around him his teammates and their well-wishers celebrated and congratulated one another, but he could not wait to get off the field. He’d been an embarrassment. The team had won, but he had played terribly.
    He tossed the reins of his pony over to the nearest groom and shouldered his way through the crowd. He caught a glimpse of his brother’s smiling face as Alejandro leaned down and kissed his beaming wife. Alejandro looked up for a second and locked eyes with Sebastian. His ecstatic smile quickly darkened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Sebastian just kept walking. The last thing he needed right now was the inevitable dressing down and I-told-you-so he knew he had coming.
    He stalked through the parking lot and threw himself into his dark green Porsche Spyder, slamming the door behind him. He sat for a moment in sullen silence before smashing his hands against the steering wheel in frustration, and then starting up the car with a roar and peeling out of the lot.
    As he drove, he replayed all the mistakes he’d made on the field that afternoon. He’d been slow and inattentive. He’d let his pony get bumped off the line of the ball. He’d been hooked three times by an absolute choto , and then missed his penalty shots. In fact, he’d missed nearly all of his shots. It was a miracle, really, that the team had won.
    It was a new and uncomfortable feeling for Sebastian—this awareness that he’d been subpar on the pitch. Even if he avoided practice, even if he played hungover more often than not, his natural talent and athleticism had always carried him along. His father used to rail at him, telling him that he had more inborn ability in his little finger than the rest of the team put together, and if he would just apply himself, show a little self-discipline, practice and train like the rest of the team did, he could have a 10-goal handicap. He could be among the very best. But Sebastian had never wanted to be the best. He’d just wanted to have his fun, be good enough, and let Jandro have the glory.
    But today he had not been good enough. Not even close. And this had just been the worst in a steady series of lackluster games for him lately. He hated to admit it, but Alejandro was right. He needed to buckle down, pull his weight, pay attention. No more drinking, no more late nights, no more missed practices. He would turn over a new leaf.
    Starting tomorrow.
    He made a brutal left-hand turn into the parking lot of a run-down bar outside of town and skidded the car to a halt. He reached into his kit bag in the backseat and pulled out a clean T-shirt and tennis shoes, stripping off his telltale La Victoria jersey and riding boots. He didn’t want to see anyone he knew, and he did not want to be recognized either. What he wanted was a stiff drink or two, and to find a woman he could lose himself in for the night and then never have to see again after the morning.
    One more time to get it all out of his system, he promised himself as he pushed through the bar door.
    After that, he’d be a changed man.

Chapter Eight
    T he hospital room was dim and quiet. The only noises were the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the sound of her father softly breathing in and out. Kat sat by his bed and watched him as he slept.
    She rubbed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Even ill, Joe Parker’s face was so handsome, with his firm jaw, strong cheekbones, and jaunty mustache. At seventy, his hair was more pepper than salt and still thick and wavy.
    The doctor had told her that he’d been lucky. Though the right side of his body had been severely weakened, there didn’t seem to be any cognitive damage. They said that he’d need a month or so in a rehabilitation clinic to get enough of his strength back so that he could walk again, but