“So I’ve been told.” He waited a heartbeat and then added, “Maybe you could show me around?” His forthrightness didn’t surprise her. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man who beat around the bush.
Sabrina laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
She eyed him with suspicion lacing her gaze. “You’d be better off with a tour company.”
“I’d rather have personalized service.”
Her heart fluttered, but she remained cool. “There are plenty of reputable companies offering sightseeing tours,” she pointed out. “You can see the city by bus, or another popular type of tour is the architectural river tour. It takes you down the Chicago River. Trust me, you’ll be in good hands.”
His lids lowered so that his dark eyes became half-hidden. “I’d rather be in your hands.”
Heat spread across her breasts, and Sabrina could feel her nipples hardening beneath her lacy bra. She took a huge swallow of wine. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” He laughed, the rich sound bouncing between them and startling her stomach into a quiver that had her taking a calming breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know you from Adam.”
His thick black brows came together. “Adam? Who is this Adam?”
“It’s an expression.” She smiled. “It basically means I don’t know you.”
“You have a lovely smile. I believe this time it was real.” He leaned closer, and the enticing mélange of his cologne—dark spices and a zesty citrus scent—drifted up into her nostrils. “What would you like to know about me?”
He held her gaze and made her feel like the only person in the entire establishment.
“Okay,” she said, pressing against the back of the chair, adding a few inches of space between them to clear her head. “For starters, what kind of business are you in?”
Before he could answer, the bartender set her order on the bar with a small plate and silverware. She signaled toward the dish, making Renaldo a silent offer. He shook his head.
“Real estate,” he replied. “Renovations mostly, although I’d like to eventually expand into construction. For now, I concentrate on purchasing commercial properties like hotels and office buildings, gut them, modernize them, and then turn around and sell them for a profit. I’m in Chicago trying to close on a hotel.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What else?”
Sabrina cocked her head to one side. “You really think all you have to do is give me a few facts about yourself and then I’ll…what exactly?”
His eyes filled with amusement. “Show me around your beautiful city. Nothing more.”
“And that’s all you want?”
He paused in the act of lifting the crystal glass of amber spirit to his lips. When he answered, his voice had lowered another octave. “It is too early in our acquaintance to tell you what I really want.”
Chapter Four
She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she chose to throw caution to the wind. “And what is it that you really want?”
He didn’t hesitate. “You.”
His answer left her breathless. Their gazes clashed. “I see you’re not shy about speaking your mind.”
“Would you expect anything less?” A sexy smile hovered around his mouth.
“No, I guess I wouldn’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Sabrina allowed her forefinger to slide around the circumference of the rim of her glass. “What happened to the brunette?”
“She wasn’t my type.”
“And I am?” Her fingertip halted its movement. “What exactly is your type, may I ask?”
“I like women who are confident and independent. You seem to be both.”
“Somehow I envisioned men from Brazil as being more…I don’t know…traditional in their views.”
“I have to admit, I can be old-fashioned in some ways. I never let a woman pay when we’re dating.”
Sabrina lifted a brow in surprise. “Never?”
“Never. It’s my responsibility. I open doors, and when we’re walking down the street, I insist the woman I’m with walks on the inside, away from the traffic.”
Sabrina laughed as she spooned two mushrooms onto her plate. “You are old school. You don’t see that much nowadays. But what you said doesn’t fit with your desire for an independent woman.” In her experience, men always said they wanted an independent woman, but when they found her, they couldn’t handle it.
“Actually, it does. You see, I grew up in a traditional household. My father was the head of the house, and my mother never worked. He took care of her, doted on her, and she wanted for nothing. When he passed away, she couldn’t even balance a check book. We lost our business and struggled for several years.” Regret—or maybe sadness—entered his eyes for a moment. “I wish they were both alive to see how well my sisters and I are doing now.”
Sabrina nodded her head in understanding. “I know the feeling,” she murmured.
She stared down at the maroon liquid in her glass. She would do anything to have her mother back, to show her how much she had achieved, despite the rough start to life. The pain and guilt never seemed to go away. She never stopped wondering if she could have done something different and saved her mother.
* * * *
They fell into an easy conversation. She forgot all about her previous plans and spent the next forty minutes listening to Renaldo talk mostly about his business and the stress to close the deal he was working on. He was successful, but not quite where he wanted to be. One of his goals was to expand into the U.S. market. In between the business talk, they flirted and bantered back and forth, and he educated her on the culture of his country.
“I’m doing all the talking,” Renaldo said. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a financial analyst for a firm named Global Investments. My focus is mergers and acquisitions.”
“Really? Maybe I can steal you away from your firm. I could use a knowledgeable analyst on my team, and you’re based here in Chicago, where I hope to begin my expansion into the U.S.”
“If I didn’t think you were kidding, I’d take you up on the offer,” Sabrina said dryly.
Renaldo frowned. “You’re not happy?”
“Let’s just say things could be better. I’m out tonight to drown my sorrows in red wine and forget my problems at work.” She pushed a lukewarm mushroom around on her plate with the fork. “I sound bitter, don’t I?”
What was she thinking? Sitting here with an attractive man paying her attention, and all she could do was complain about her job. She should be thinking about engaging in more pleasurable activities with him, because right now the alternative—going home to an empty apartment and Netflix—did not appeal at all.
“If you’re unhappy, why don’t you leave?”
“Yeah, I’ll just walk out of there and find another job just like that.” Sabrina snapped her fingers. “I’ll suffer through it.”
“Like you’re doing now?” he asked pointedly. “Spending a Friday night alone at a bar?”
His questions hit home in a way she didn’t like. “I’m not really alone, though, am I?” She shrugged. “I wanted to unwind before going home. It’s been a long week and an even longer day. Actually, I had plans, but my friend cancelled at the last minute.”
“And this friend…was it a man?”
She eyed him from the corner of her eye, surprised he’d deduced that so easily. “Yes.”
“Foolish man,” Renaldo said in a low tone.
“He’s usually dependable. I’m sure he has a good reason why he couldn’t make it.”
“I’m sure,” Renaldo said, sounding unconvinced. “Fortunately, he’s not here, but I am.”
Sabrina ran her tongue along the inside of her upper lip. “What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means I’d like to take his place.”
Chapter Five
He watched the play of emotions across her face.
; “Excuse me?” she said.
Although she feigned ignorance of his intentions, he didn’t believe it for one minute. If they offered degrees in reading women’s body language, he’d have a Ph.D. There was no misunderstanding the flirtatious smiles or sidelong glances as they’d conversed. If her body burned for his as much as his burned for her, they could both get the release they craved.
“Are we going to pretend we don’t want the same thing?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but refrained from doing so. She swallowed and turned her attention back to her dish. It had to be cold and unappetizing by now, but she placed another mushroom into her pretty mouth in an obvious effort to keep herself busy.
His mind conjured an image of her putting him in her mouth. The vivid thought caused his muscles to seize, and for a moment he couldn’t move. When he regained his motor skills, he knew there could only be one outcome. He desperately wanted this woman. Tonight.
“I’ve spent the last forty-five minutes thinking about what I would have to say to make you feel comfortable enough to leave here with me,” he said.
His eyes lowered to the fast-beating pulse at the vee of her blouse. His own breathing became irregular, as if he’d exerted himself in some form of physical exercise.
“Nothing you say will convince me to leave with you,” she said in a husky undertone. She drained the last of her second glass of wine and reached for her purse.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She laughed, and it sounded uneasy. “Because something’s wrong with me. I should be offended, or disgusted, or something. But instead—” Her light brown eyes scanned his face, and then they darted away again. She got down off the stool.
He stood, too. “Instead what?” he prompted.
She shook her head vigorously and grabbed the blazer from the back of the chair. Automatically, he helped her into it. Once it was on, she clutched the open edges like a safety jacket.
“Instead what?” he whispered in her ear. She smelled good. Not the scent of perfume or lotion. It was just the scent of a woman. Her natural, sweet fragrance.
“Instead…” Color blossomed in her cheeks. “Instead…I’m considering it.”
The noise from the bar disappeared; the sound of silverware hitting plates disappeared. The chatter and laughter of patrons became nonexistent. All his senses became attuned to the woman standing before him.
“What do you need?” he asked, because he didn’t know what else to do. He was accustomed to negotiations, but right now, a compromise was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted her to come with him, and he didn’t care what he had to do or give up to make it happen. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to leave a crowded establishment and go back to his room and let him have his way with her. “My identification, a fingerprint, a blood sample? Whatever you want, I will give it.”
* * * *
His persistence turned her on. She liked persistence in a man—a man who knew what he wanted and pursued until he captured it.
Perhaps it was the wine, or the loneliness she felt, or the disappointment about her job. Perhaps it was a combination of all those things. Whatever it was, it prompted Sabrina to say, “That won’t be necessary.”
A weight seemed to have been lifted. The tension left over from the stressful day at work oozed from her shoulders. Now that she’d made the decision, she actually felt better.
She swallowed down the last remnants of her unease. “Where are you staying?”
She saw the flash of hunger in his eyes, and a spark of desire emerged in her belly.
“The Drake.”
She nodded and reached inside her purse to cover the tab.
“Allow me.” He pulled out his wallet.
“That won’t be—”
“I insist.”
He called over the bartender and handed him some bills. He didn’t bother waiting for his change, giving more than enough to cover both checks and leave a generous tip. He moved quickly, as if he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to change her mind.
Not that she would. She figured she probably should, but what she knew to do and what she did were two separate things. What she knew to do was turn around, walk away, and embrace her empty life. Like always.
To hell with it.
She placed her hand in his.
She didn’t want to be alone tonight, so she followed him out into the night.
Chapter Six
The door of the suite clicked shut.
“Would you like a drink?” Renaldo asked behind her.
“No.” Sabrina’s heart was beating so fast she almost couldn’t speak.
He came closer in the dark, so close the heat from his body warmed her back. The drapes opened to the night outside, and she could see the lights from the other buildings. The large room was filled with shadowy furnishings—lamps, a desk, sofas, tables. A door to the left led into what she assumed was the bedroom.
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Relax.”
“Maybe this was a bad idea.” The fierce beating of her heart indicated she might be in over her head.
He massaged the knot at the top of her spine. “You still do not trust me. You’re second-guessing yourself.” The whispered words in her ear made her skin come alive with tiny pinpricks of heat.
“And you’re not? I could be a thief or a murderer.”
The circular motion of his thumbs continued to caress through her clothes, turning her limbs to liquid so that her purse slid from her shoulder to the carpet.
His arms folded around her and he pulled her tighter to his body. “I’ll take my chances.”
His mouth drifted up the side of her neck, delivering little kisses that made her shiver and ache. The soft pressure of his mouth inflamed her skin, and she almost melted into a puddle at his feet.
“From the minute I saw you,” he said, his voice gruff, “I knew.”
“How did you know?” she asked in a husky whisper.
He turned her in his arms and gently tugged the tail of her blouse from the waistband of her skirt as he gazed into her eyes. “The same way you did.”
He took his time undoing her top, the silence troubled by the sound of her uneven breathing. When he’d released each button, he kissed the crests of her breasts and pressed his face to her cleavage, inhaling deeply.
His mouth moved to her neck, and he whispered in a rasping voice, “This is no mistake.”
Squeezing her breasts together, his thick thumbs teased her nipples with firm, insistent strokes through the black lace until she gasped and arched into his hands.
No, this was no mistake. Such delicious pleasure could not be wrong.
With deft fingers, he undid her skirt, and it fell quietly onto the carpet. Her blouse followed suit. He caressed the newly exposed skin of her hips in a pair of lace panties, warming the flesh and making her ache.
The way she responded seemed to start a fire in him. He pulled her into the power of his body and lowered his head to take her mouth in a passionately bruising kiss. Prying her lips apart with his tongue, he stole her breath and demanded more in a hungry invasion that left her wanting more.
One hand at the back of her head fumbled with the clip until he’d loosened it to run his fingers through the short, spiral strands of her hair. His right hand palmed her buttocks and forced her to acknowledge his hard erection.
Sabrina wrapped her arms around the wide trunk of his body, feeling his heart pound against her chest. When he lifted his head, she looked up at him in amazement.
“I think I’m wearing too many clothes,” he said.
“We both are.”
They stripped in the near-darkness and tossed their clothing and shoes aside, unconcerned about where each item landed.
Renaldo slipped on a condom and then bent his head to her breasts, sucking her nipples and gently biting them until she cried out, digging her short nails i
nto his broad shoulders. He smoothed his hand down her buttocks and between her thighs, letting his fingers slide through the slickness to test her readiness.
“Turn around.” He took her by the shoulders and twisted her to face away from him. Her heart raced, unsure of what to expect next.
“Bend over,” he said, his voice a dark rumble.
“Wh-what?” Sabrina cast a glance of alarm over her shoulder at him.
He pressed his lips to her ear. “Relax. Trust me. You’re going to love it. Place your hands on the floor.”
One muscular arm curved around her waist, and he grasped the back of her neck. Easing her forward, he forced her to bend at the hip. His foot shoved her feet apart, spreading her legs wider for him. Her breath stuttered in her chest and her body trembled in the vulnerable position in which he’d placed her. With her hips elevated against his groin, he found the wet entrance to her body and pushed in all the way—uttering a low groan—lodging deep inside of her.
Sabrina’s eyes squeezed shut as she savored the sensation of his deep penetration. He eased out slowly and then shoved back in again.
“Oh,” she moaned, her legs shaking as pleasure soared through her, her palms pressing down onto the floor to help maintain her balance.
Holding her in place, he pulled back and plunged downward repeatedly, skin slapping against skin with each thrust.
He muttered in Portuguese. She had no idea what he said, but it didn’t matter. His beautiful voice made her sex convulse while he drove into her, stirring the flames of passion into a frenzied flash-fire that burned hotter than she’d ever experienced.
This was exactly what she needed. This intensity. This release.
Inside, she tightened, nearing an internal explosion. A sob fled her lips. Pressure mounted, and his continued whispers in his own language urged her closer to the edge.
Then she lost control.
Waves of sensation crashed over her. She cried out, the room spinning as her body convulsed. He held her upright against him, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips.
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