Master of Her Innocence (Bought by the Brazilian)

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Master of Her Innocence (Bought by the Brazilian) Page 9

by Chantelle Shaw


  Not for the first time, Clare wondered if she was dreaming and would wake up in a minute. She stared at Diego’s ripped jeans and the battered leather hat hiding his unkempt blond hair. Several days’ growth of stubble covered his jaw and he looked tough and sexy and dangerously disreputable. ‘You don’t look like you own a diamond worth a million dollars.’

  Amusement gleamed in his eyes. ‘I’m overwhelmed by your flattery,’ he said sardonically. He looked back at Rigo. ‘Tell your bully boys who took my phone to return it and I’ll arrange for the diamond to be flown to Torrente. We’ll make the exchange on the airstrip once the girls are safely on board the plane.’

  * * *

  Time passed slowly when there was nothing to do but stare at a clock, Clare discovered. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask Diego, but she hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him since they had returned to the room where they and Becky were being held prisoners.

  ‘Have you paid the ransom? Can we leave now?’ Becky had asked urgently after Enzo had escorted them back to the room and locked them in.

  ‘We’ll be allowed to leave as soon as a few things have been sorted out,’ Clare had tried to reassure her sister. But she couldn’t have sounded convincing because Becky had burst into tears.

  ‘The kidnappers are going to kill us. I know they are. You shouldn’t have come to Brazil and risked your life for me,’ she’d sobbed hysterically. The strain of being held captive for a week was clearly getting to her.

  ‘Of course I came for you, and we will be freed soon. Diego has arranged for a plane to collect us.’ Clare tried to sound more confident than she felt. In truth, she did not understand what was happening. It seemed incredible that Diego owned a diamond mine and had done a deal to effectively buy her freedom from the traitorous double-crosser Rigo in exchange for a valuable pink diamond. It sounded like the plot of a thriller and she did not know who she could trust.

  At least she was able to change out of the nun’s habit into a pair of khaki shorts and a cotton vest top that she’d brought in her rucksack. She felt cooler in the lightweight clothes, at least until Diego stared at her bare legs with a glint in his eyes that made her blush.

  She looked at him sitting in an armchair opposite her, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his hat inevitably pulled down over his eyes so that she thought he was asleep. Her mind flew back to the previous night and she pictured his naked body positioned over hers, the firelight flickering over his powerful musculature. Heat swept through her as she remembered how his rock-hard erection had stretched her when he’d first entered her. The few seconds of pain had quickly dissolved and been replaced with mind-blowing pleasure.

  If they made it out of Torrente alive, would she ever see him again? Her common sense told her it was unlikely. She did not even know who he really was—a tough gold prospector who read poetry, or a wealthy diamond tycoon.

  She froze when she suddenly realised he was not asleep and was watching her with a glint in his eyes that told her he knew she had been fantasising about him making love to her.

  ‘Deus, Clare, I wish we were alone right now,’ he said softly.

  She snapped her eyes from him and glanced at Becky, who was standing tensely by the window. Perhaps as a reaction to the danger they were in, Clare could recall clearly events from the past, and she pictured her sister lying in a hospital bed, attached to numerous tubes and wires. It was a miracle that Becky had survived the aggressive form of leukaemia she’d contracted as a child, and Clare was determined her sister’s life would not be cut short by a gang of despicable criminals.

  Last night, a mixture of fear and exhaustion had played havoc with her emotions and led her to succumb to her desire for Diego. For a few blissful hours in his arms she had been distracted from the reason she had come to Brazil, but from now on she must focus on getting her sister to safety. ‘All I wish is that the kidnappers would release us so that my sister and I can go home to our parents,’ she said tautly.

  Diego frowned. ‘One thing I don’t understand is why your family sent you to Brazil to pay the ransom money to the kidnappers. They must have realised the danger you would be in.’

  ‘My father couldn’t come because he is caring for my mother who is seriously ill, and I offered to rescue my sister. Dad must be frantic with worry about Becky.’

  ‘I’m sure your father is worried about both of you.’ Diego felt a flare of anger towards Clare’s parents for the way they had allowed her to feel less loved than her sister. He hoped the Marchants realised how incredibly courageous their older daughter was.

  His phone rang and he had a brief conversation in Portuguese. ‘Your wish is about to be granted,’ he told Clare. ‘The plane that will take us to Manaus has landed at Torrente airport.’

  * * *

  It was not a proper airport, just a single runway at the edge of the town, surrounded by dense jungle. As the Jeep driven by Enzo pulled up next to a hangar, Clare saw a sleek private jet sitting on the runway with its engines running. She gripped Becky’s hand. ‘In a couple of minutes we will be on that plane and your ordeal will be over.’

  Becky was white-faced and close to hysteria. ‘Something is going to go wrong; I know it is.’

  Clare looked at Diego. ‘What are we waiting for? I thought the arrangement was for us to board the plane before you give the diamond to Rigo.’

  ‘Rigo got here before us,’ he said tensely. ‘He’s already on the jet. The pilot messaged me to say he’s been forced to hand over the diamond.’

  ‘Then we need to get on the jet and be ready to leave.’ Clare gave a startled cry when Diego caught hold of her arm and pulled her close to him.

  ‘I want you and Becky to get on to the plane that you can see at the far end of the runway.’

  Clare stared in the direction he was pointing and frowned. ‘Does it even fly? It looks like a plane from the Second World War.’

  ‘It’s a Dakota transport plane which regularly brings supplies to Torrente from Manaus. The pilot is expecting us. Tell him to be ready to take off as soon as I get on board.’

  ‘But why can’t we leave on the jet?’

  Over Clare’s shoulder, Diego watched Rigo walk across the runway and get into a car, leaving behind a group of armed men. They’re unlikely to be waiting to welcome the Marchant sisters on to the jet, he thought cynically. The situation was becoming more dangerous by the minute and there was no time to explain things to Clare. He looked into her wide blue eyes and saw her fear that she was trying to hide. For reasons he couldn’t explain he felt a peculiar tugging sensation in his heart. ‘You have to trust me,’ he said gruffly. He pushed her towards the Dakota. ‘Go. Now.’

  * * *

  You have to trust me.

  Diego’s words replayed in Clare’s head as she peered through the plane’s window, hoping to catch sight of him in the deepening twilight. She could not think clearly above the roar of the Dakota’s engines and the sound of Becky crying. ‘We have to go, we have to go,’ her sister sobbed. ‘Please, Clare, tell the pilot to take off before the kidnappers come for us.’

  ‘We must wait for Diego. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’

  Where was he? Clare’s heart leapt when she saw him by the hangar. But he wasn’t alone. Shock jolted through her when she recognised that the man Diego was talking to was one of the kidnappers who had been with Enzo when she had been taken from the cave in the rainforest. In disbelief she watched Diego and the kidnapper briefly hug each other before the two men started to run towards the plane.

  Becky was still crying. ‘Please, Clare, let’s go now.’

  Clare had a split second to make a decision. Should she tell the pilot to take off, which would ensure her sister’s safety? Or should she wait for Diego to board the plane with one of the kidnappers? She felt sick. Was Diego somehow involved with Rigo and his criminal gang?

  With a flash of clarity she understood that he must have pretended to make a deal
with the drugs lord to buy her freedom. Of course he wouldn’t have given away a diamond worth a million dollars to save her. She had been so stupid to have been blinded by his handsome face and laid-back, sexy charm.

  ‘Sit down and fasten your seat belt,’ she ordered Becky as she ran to the front of the plane and spoke to the pilot. ‘We’re ready to take off, right now.’

  * * *

  Back on the ground, Diego had breathed easier once he’d watched Clare and Becky board the Dakota. He was fairly certain none of Rigo’s men had seen them climb into the transport plane. With luck he would be able to join the girls without being seen and the plane would take off from the airstrip before the gang members realised that their quarry had escaped.

  He’d guessed that Rigo had planned to have the three of them killed. The time he’d spent in prison had taught him how ruthless criminals’ minds worked, and Rigo was more ruthless than most. He hoped the gathering dusk would hide him as he stepped out from the doorway of the hangar, but a voice speaking in Portuguese stopped him.

  ‘Not so fast. Put your hands in the air.’

  Slowly, Diego turned around and did a double take as he recognised a face from the past. ‘Miguel?’

  ‘Santa Mãe! Diego, is it really you?’ The other man lowered his gun. ‘The last time I saw you was in prison.’

  ‘Nearly twenty years ago.’ Diego pictured two teenage boys being escorted by prison guards to an overcrowded cell, hearing the taunts from the other prisoners, terrified of what would happen to them.

  ‘You saved my life,’ Miguel said hoarsely, ‘and had your ear cut off by the other prisoners as punishment for protecting me. I’ve never forgotten.’

  Nor had Diego forgotten, despite trying to block out the memories of hell. Like him, Miguel had been on remand and awaiting trial to prove he was innocent of the crime he had been accused of. ‘Why are you working for a shit like Rigo?’

  Miguel shook his head. ‘He threatened my family. But my parents are both dead now and I don’t care if Rigo kills me for helping you to escape. I owe you, my friend.’

  ‘Rigo isn’t going to kill either of us,’ Diego said grimly. ‘Come with me.’ He swore as he heard the roar of the Dakota’s engines. ‘Quickly! Our chance to escape is about to take off.’

  * * *

  Clare held her breath as the plane lifted off the runway. Becky was still crying, and she gripped her sister’s hand. ‘It’s all over, Becky. You’re safe and we’re going home.’

  But what about Diego? her conscience asked. She had rescued Becky, but what if she had been wrong to think Diego was involved with Rigo? She had seen him talking to one of the kidnappers, she reminded herself. She’d made the right choice to leave him behind, hadn’t she?

  ‘Deus, Clare, why didn’t you wait for me?’

  She gasped, wondering if she had imagined Diego’s voice. But as she jumped up from her seat and looked towards the back of the plane, she saw him emerge from the cargo hold, followed by the man she’d seen him talking to on the ground who she knew was a member of Rigo’s gang.

  Clare’s immediate instinct was to protect Becky and she stood in front of her and glared at Diego. ‘Keep away from my sister. I know you work for Rigo. And this man—’ she indicated the man who had boarded the plane with Diego ‘—is one of the kidnappers who met me at the cave.’

  Diego shook his head. ‘Clare, it’s all right. Miguel is my friend from many years ago.’ He put his hand on her arm and swore when she hit him. He saw genuine fear in her eyes and it hurt him more than it should to realise she was afraid of him.

  ‘You crazy little wildcat,’ he growled. ‘I kept you safe on the journey to Torrente and spent two days up to my neck in mud. You let me believe you were a nun and made me feel guilty for wanting you. You’ve cost me a rare diamond worth a fortune. And, worst of all, I haven’t drunk a single beer since I had the dubious pleasure of meeting you. But, even after all of that, you still don’t trust me.’

  He threw off his hat and seized her in his arms, holding her wrists behind her back so that she could not fight him as he lowered his face to hers. ‘So I guess I have nothing to lose,’ he muttered against her lips before he captured her mouth in a punishing kiss that demanded her total subjugation, demanded her soul—and laid claim to her heart.

  Clare’s common sense told her not to respond to the kiss, but she was outvoted by her body that capitulated with shameful willingness to Diego’s mastery. She melted into him, seduced by the hardness of his muscles and sinews and the strength of his whipcord body pressed against hers. He was so much taller than her and, with a muttered oath, he lifted her off her feet to bring her mouth level with his and tangled his hand in her hair to prevent her from trying to escape.

  But Clare was burning up in the wildfire heat of Diego’s hunger. His mouth was utterly addictive and she wrapped her arms around his neck to allow him to increase the pressure of his lips sliding over hers as he deepened the kiss and coaxed her tongue into an intimate dance.

  Reality faded. After everything that had happened in the past few days, Clare no longer knew what reality was. But Diego felt real and solid and nothing else seemed to matter except that he brought her senses alive and made her want to leave behind her safe, sensible life and take a leap into the unknown.

  When he tore his mouth from hers and set her back on her feet she stared at him dazedly, slowly becoming aware once more of the rumble of the plane’s engines and the realisation that Diego looked furious.

  He pushed her down into a seat and leaned over her. ‘I swear you would test the patience of a saint. If I hear another word from you for the rest of the flight I’ll show you just how unsaintly you make me feel, anjinho.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘CLARE, WAKE UP. The helicopter has come for you.’

  ‘What...helicopter?’ Struggling to surface through a haze of sleep, Clare forced her eyes open and looked groggily at her sister sitting next to her. She remembered they were on the plane, but the Dakota’s engines were silent. ‘When did we land? We’re at Manaus Airport, I suppose.’ Memories of their narrow escape from the kidnappers reminded her that her rescue mission would not be completed until her sister was safely back home. ‘I doubt there are direct flights from here to London so we’ll have to catch a connecting flight to Rio before we can fly to England.’

  ‘Calm down. We’re in Rio,’ Becky told her. ‘We flew through the night from Torrente and landed a few hours ago. It’s morning now. You’ve slept for twelve hours, but Diego didn’t want to disturb you.’

  Fat chance, Clare thought sardonically. She found his brand of raw sexual magnetism deeply disturbing. ‘Where is Diego, anyway?’ She glanced around the empty plane.

  ‘He had to go to his office. Before he left, he arranged for me to fly first class to London. My flight leaves soon, which is why I decided to wake you to say goodbye.’

  Clare noted that her sister looked remarkably well after her kidnap ordeal. They had both shed tears of relief as the Dakota had flown away from Torrente and the realisation had sunk in that the danger was over. Becky had kept saying how brave Clare had been, but her praise had increased Clare’s sense of guilt that she would never have made it to Torrente without Diego and she should have trusted him when he had done so much to protect her.

  ‘Surely Diego has booked us both on to the flight to England?’ She remembered his anger when she had accused him of being a member of Rigo’s criminal gang. ‘Or does he expect me to sit in the luggage hold?’

  Becky laughed. ‘You must have been in a deep sleep if you don’t remember that you’ll be staying in Brazil to work for the Cazorra Corporation. Diego told me you are going to run a PR campaign for an associate company he is opening in Rio under the brand name of Delgado Diamonds, which his business partner launched so successfully in Europe.’

  ‘Just a minute...’ Clare tried to make sense of her sister’s words but Becky carried on talking.

  ‘I told Dad about yo
ur plans when I phoned home to let him know we’re both safe and he’s excited that it will be a fantastic opportunity for A-Star PR. Running an advertising campaign for a huge international company like the Cazorra Corporation will really open doors for the A-Star agency. And it’s all down to you, Clare.’ Becky gave Clare a hug. ‘Dad thinks you’re amazing, and so do I. You saved my life and I’m so pleased you’re being rewarded with the chance to further your career, as well as spend time with Diego.’

  ‘I’m not...’

  ‘It’s all right; you don’t have to tell me anything.’ Becky misunderstood Clare’s attempt to interrupt. ‘It was clear from the way Diego kissed you last night that there’s something going on between you personally as well as professionally. Just be careful. Diego Cazorra has heartbreaker stamped all over him.’

  ‘Becky! Will you listen to me?’ Clare’s frustration bubbled over. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m flying back to England with you.’ She searched through her rucksack and in exasperation tipped its contents on to her lap. ‘I know my passport was in here.’

  ‘Oh, I gave it to Diego so that he could arrange a permit to allow you to work in Brazil.’ Becky stood up. ‘It’s not surprising you’re feeling confused after everything that’s happened. I’ve got to go, or I’ll miss my flight. Diego’s PA will be able to explain things more clearly.’

  By the time Clare had stuffed her belongings back into her rucksack and hurried down the steps of the Dakota, her sister had disappeared into the airport terminal.

  ‘Miss Marchant?’ She turned towards the voice and saw an elegant-looking woman with dark hair and an exotic olive complexion. ‘My name is Juliana Alvez, Mr Cazorra’s personal assistant. If you would like to come with me, Diego has scheduled a meeting with you at twelve o’clock to discuss your new role.’

  Clare was conscious that her shorts were creased after she had slept in them and her hair was a wild tangle of untidy curls, in contrast to Juliana’s sleek chignon and sophisticated cream skirt and jacket.

 

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