Summer Heat

by A. C. Arthur

  “No,” Izabel shook her head. “There is an orphanage in Pirata, one of only a few Christian missions left in all of Brazil. This is where some of what are called the meninos de rua or ‘street children’ live.”

  “Street children?” It sounded like a term from a movie, not what children would be called in real life.

  “Yes. These are abandoned or runaway children whom radicals in my country have targeted. About sixteen years ago eight street children were gunned down as they slept near the Candelària Church in downtown Rio de Janeiro. This brought more attention to the problems of the street children, as they faced elimination. Eduardo began taking in the street children he saw in Pirata, to keep them safe.

  “It is unfortunate that Felipe and I are just now finding out about the shelter that Eduardo is providing, as he is proud and would not ask for help, especially from political figures such as the prince and I. Forgive me if I make my husband and myself seem as if we are out of touch with our village. It is that so much, what do you call it, red tape, is involved with being a royal.”

  Karena nodded, feeling as if she understood what the woman was trying to say.

  “Well, we are going to fix that. But Eduardo, he has been like the caretaker at the orphanage. He and Elisabete Alvares. They are trying to take care of at least fifty street children of different ages. It is hard, because they do not have the funds needed. Eduardo sold you the painting to get money for the orphanage.”

  Karena had felt those words coming. Still they pricked her heart and she sat silently for the next few seconds.

  “We paid half a million dollars for one painting,” she finally said softly.

  “In Pirata, that is enough to rebuild their building. Construction has already started, but there is still much to be done. So you see now why Felipe and I came here. We wanted to explain about Cezar and his work, but we also wish for you to let us handle Eduardo.”

  “I see. Certainly.” Karena swallowed, took a deep breath. “I’ll tell Sam to stop looking for him. It ends here,” she said with finality.

  “Obrigado,” Izabel said with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Karena responded.

  “Would you like to see it?”

  “See what?”

  “The orphanage. I talked with your mother about it and she had many questions. She and your father have gone for a ferias, but if you are not too busy you can come to Pirata to see.”

  “Me? Come to Pirata?” It wasn’t as if she’d never been there. She had been, right at the villa of Eduardo and Iracema Matos, she believed. But did she want to go back? Did she really want to see the man who had brought all this drama to her life? Even if he had good reason?

  The answer was simple.

  “Yes. I’d love to come to Pirata.”

  Chapter 20

  It had taken only twenty minutes of waiting in the Harlem location of Lucien’s before Sam realized she wasn’t coming.

  That and the phone call he received as he was walking out of the restaurant. “Desdune.”

  “Hey, just wanted to check in with you before I left for the night.”

  It was Bree.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Alex said you okayed me assigning an undercover to provide extra security for the prince and princess, so I sent that guy we have in New York already. Anyway, he just called to say the royal jet is being fueled up, estimated time of departure is three and a half hours.”

  “I guess they’re in a hurry to get back home,” Sam was saying as he crossed the street to his car, pressing the remote to unlock the doors.

  It was when he was settled behind the steering wheel that Bree decided to drop her bombshell.

  “There’s another passenger listed on the manifest. An American. Her passport’s already been scanned.”

  Sam’s jaw twitched as he sat back against his leather seats. “Go on.”

  “It’s Karena.”

  He cursed. Loudly. Fluently.

  On the other end, Bree clucked her teeth. “Precisely the reaction I assumed you’d have. That’s why I called right away.”

  “What the hell is she doing?”

  “Come on, Sam, I’m sure you know.”

  Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he tried to take slow, even breaths. Otherwise, he was liable to punch something or someone. “Bree, I don’t have time for this.”

  “You don’t have time to listen to me warn you about scaring her away?”

  “What? You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I’m not what’s scaring her.”

  “You sure about that, big brother? You weren’t the smartest guy when it came to your last relationship.”

  “Please, don’t even compare Karena to Leeza.” There was no comparison there. Leeza was a controlling, manipulative socialite with a split personality who had Sam walking on eggshells one minute and singing her praises the next. Ending things with her remained the best decision he’d ever made. No, Karena was nothing like that. And what he felt for Karena was nothing like what he’d imagined he felt for Leeza.

  “I’m not comparing them. I’m comparing you. The man you were with Leeza and the one you are to Karena. It’s one and the same.”

  “Bree, I’ve got to go.”

  “Just listen to me for a minute, Sam. A fool could see you’ve got feelings for her, but you need to make sure those feelings are reciprocated before you go pushing your way into her life. Don’t forget I’m the one who knows you just about as well as you know yourself. You may think Karena Lakefield is the woman for you, the one you want to love, marry and cherish forever. But she may have another idea entirely.” Bree sighed. “Just food for thought.”

  He couldn’t be angry with her. She was just being Bree. She was being his sister, his twin, one of his closest friends. “Thanks,” he said solemnly then started his car’s engine.

  “Don’t look for me in the office tomorrow.”

  On the other end Bree smiled. She knew exactly what he was saying. “I’ll let Mom and Dad know you’re out of the country.”

  With a grim smile of his own, Sam thanked her again and disconnected. His foot lay heavily on the gas as he needed to make his way back to his house, pack and get to the private airstrip where the de Carrieros’ jet was parked.

  Using speakerphone so he could concentrate on driving, he called Alex and asked him to contact the de Carrieros and get clearance for him to travel with them. Once that was done, he let his mind return to the pressing matter at hand.

  Karena.

  The look he gave her was one of barely restrained anger. His usually calm brown eyes were simmering, his lips tight in consternation as he boarded the jet just moments before it was to take off.

  In that instant Karena remembered their dinner plans, her reluctance to go and finally the moment Izabel offered for her to fly back to Brazil with her.

  No wonder he was angry. She’d stood him up.

  Izabel and Felipe were already buckled into their seats toward the front of the jet, leaving Karena seated in the middle section of seats, behind a small table and minibar. Her heart hammered as she turned away from him. At that exact moment Sam looked away from her as well, both their gazes locking on the seat next to her.

  He was going to sit there, even though there were two more seats behind her. She knew with absolute certainty he was going to stop right beside her.

  “Surprised to see me?” he asked the moment he was seated and had clicked the seat belt around his waist.

  “A little,” she replied honestly.

  “I must have really wanted to have dinner with you to pack my bags and hop on a plane to Brazil.”

  His tone was clipped. He was really upset with her.

  “Look, Sam, I’m sorry. I totally forgot. Izabel came to my office and we talked. She told me who stole the paintings and why and then offered to take me to meet him. I couldn’t pass up the offer.”

  “And you couldn’t call me to say that ahead of time? Yo
u had to just jump at the opportunity to leave me sitting at that restaurant waiting for you.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like? You set the time, Karena. I waited for you.”

  She took a deep breath, realizing that nothing she said was an acceptable excuse. She was wrong and when that was the case, Karena had no problem admitting it.

  “I apologize. I should have called you.”

  He looked away from her then said simply, “Tell me about this thief.”

  And just like that, the comfort zone she always morphed to when they were together cloaked her. Her heart slowed to a normal beat as the jet took off and she settled in to tell Sam the story of Eduardo and the orphanage.

  Chapter 21

  The city of Pirata was located just east of Fortaleza, Brazil. It was a chic beachside town that very much resembled a scaled-down Miami to Karena.

  The de Carrieros’ villa was like an oasis. Tall, swaying palm trees, grass that looked as if millions of tiny emeralds had been tossed onto the ground, and a large crystalline-blue pond anchored the land the main house occupied. The main house was bright and cheerful, painted a delightful shade of coral and accented with beautiful dark brickwork. White doors, windows and railings gave it a tropical air, while the surrounding acres of property resonated royalty.

  Around the main house were smaller homes, similar to the one she stayed at when she’d met with Eduardo.

  It hadn’t escaped her that the villa she’d visited him at was probably only miles away from this one. She remembered the Pirata Cathedral and the handicraft markets as they’d driven into town from the airport just a few short weeks ago.

  Beside her in the Hummer, Sam sat perfectly still. He was wearing cream-colored linen slacks and matching shirt and was ten times as sexy as Phillip Michael Thomas as Tubbs in Miami Vice.

  On the flight over she’d told him all about Eduardo and the orphanage, to which he’d been just as surprised as she was. When she thought he’d still want to recover the money she’d paid Eduardo, he’d immediately understood her need to see the orphanage personally. It wasn’t actually said, but they both knew she wouldn’t ask for the money back and there would be no prosecution of Eduardo.

  His easy understanding was just one more tally in the pro column for Sam Desdune—a fact she wasn’t entirely pleased with. Exactly when this thing between them had become more than lust, Karena wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was the guidelines she’d given for their involvement. Of course, they hadn’t spoken about it on the flight, but she knew the subject would arise. It was, after all, why he’d followed her here. But this time, Karena was determined to make Sam understand.

  After sharing a late lunch on the blue-and-white-tiled balcony just off the main dinning room, Izabel, Sam and Karena had once again piled into the Hummer for their trek to the orphanage.

  Karena kept her gaze out the window as they drove through the small town of Pirata. She was again looking for the villa where she had first met Eduardo, but instead the Hummer came to a stop near what looked like a warehouse, about the length of three row houses put together.

  The building was a sickly green color, chipping paint from the bottom that rested on browning grass to the roof that looked as if it would collapse at any moment. The rusted door at the front opened and out ran two boys, maybe between the ages of ten and fifteen. They were thin, their clothes clean but too small. Surrounding the house was a wooden gate that was missing more than a few planks.

  It took a second before Karena realized Sam was calling her name, waiting for her to exit the vehicle. When she did, he extended his hand to her and she readily took it, returning her gaze to the two children who now walked to the edge of the gate.

  “Olà! Està Eduardo aqui?” Izabel said, reaching over the gate to rub the head of the shortest boy.

  He must have immediately recognized the insignia on the Hummer and then again on the small brooch Izabel wore on the sheer scarf at her neck, because he instantly bowed in a curtsy so deep Karena thought his head would touch the ground.

  “No. Por favor. Isso não é necessário. De pé,” she said in a soft voice.

  Beside Karena, Sam bent to whisper in her ear. “She’s telling him it’s not necessary to bow to her and she’s asking to see Eduardo.”

  Stunned, she looked up at him. “You speak Portuguese?”

  Sam nodded. “I have this thing about foreign languages. Bree says its weird, but I speak about eight different languages.”

  Karena never would have guessed. While she knew a little Portuguese, enough to get her from the airport to the villa where she’d met Eduardo to be exact, she was in no way fluent in the language. In her travels for the gallery, she’d picked up bits and pieces of different languages as well as customs of different countries, but she’d never had the time to truly dedicate herself to completely learning a language.

  The two boys were stepping aside, letting Izabel, who looked back to beckon Sam and Karena, into the building. Once inside, Karena sucked in a breath.

  “There is much work that needs to be done,” Izabel said immediately. “Very little money is allotted to urban areas here. That is something that Felipe and I are working to change.”

  “Sounds just like the United States,” Karena said.

  “Yeah, even in our major cities, urban areas are suffering while the rich keep getting richer,” Sam added.

  “We want to work with Eduardo to make the living better for the children.”

  Moving through a long hall, Karena peeked into several open doors. One room was clearly a bedroom where twin-size cots were lined along the walls. In the center were two six-foot tables that held books with yellowed and tattered pages.

  Another room held more tables, but these had benches. Probably the cafeteria. The next room held smaller tables and smaller chairs and a chalkboard. There were toys scattered about the floor, old, broken and overused toys.

  Then out of one of the closed doors came a man. The same man Karena had met with weeks ago. Eduardo.

  Their eyes met, and for a minute she thought he would run. Instead he squared his shoulders, bowing slightly at Izabel’s approach.

  “Princess, you have returned.”

  Izabel smiled as Eduardo reached for her hand and kissed its back. “I promised I would,” she said in a regal tone. “This time I have brought Ms. Lakefield and Mr. Desdune to see your facility.”

  Eduardo released Izabel’s hand and nodded toward Sam and Karena.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me about the children?” Karena asked instantly.

  “Would you have given me half a million dollars to take care of them?” he asked with barely masked hostility. “You are rich, and rich people do not help poor people. Not if they know that is what they are doing.”

  His words took Karena aback and she flinched slightly. Sam was there, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  “That’s an unfair assumption, don’t you think?” Sam asked. “Maybe if you’d tried being honest you would get more help.”

  Eduardo gave a dry chuckle. “It does not work that way here, sir.”

  Sam didn’t respond because he knew it didn’t work that way all over the world. Brazil was not alone in its treatment of the more unfortunate.

  Late afternoon turned into evening as Eduardo led them through the facility, giving brief histories of some of the children as well as what he planned to do with the new funds he’d received from Karena. His partner, Elisabete, whom Karena suspected was also his girlfriend, was away picking up two unwanted babies from a family in Rio de Janeiro. Eduardo explained that they had been getting lots of calls from parents without money to care for their children, who did not want them to fall into the streets. Eduardo readily took them in, although he scarcely had the money to take care of them himself.

  The entire setup had left Karena feeling melancholy and completely exhausted.

  It had also given her an idea. One she’d have to wait unti
l she got back to the States to implement.

  Chapter 22

  Karena felt like an idiot.

  Not just because the real Leandro had turned out to be a child, but because she’d spent the past couple of weeks wanting desperately to hate this person for his duplicity, to make him pay for the drama he’d caused in her life. And now, after all was said and done, all she could do was feel sympathy for the circumstances that led Eduardo to do what he’d felt necessary.

  It had been hours since her visit to the orphanage. She and Sam had shared a late meal in the kitchen of Izabel’s house and she’d hurried off to bed, desperately needing some time to herself. As she lay in the bed, her mind had quickly reverted to the dozen or so children she’d seen in desperate need of everything, from food to shoes, to even clean blankets to cover them in the chilly nights. Her heart wept for them as well as for the man who tried to run the orphanage, the man who struggled without money from the government or anyone else to help him take care of these forgotten children.

  Unable to sleep, she now walked along the beach that stretched around the property belonging to the prince and princess. In a few days she’d be on her way back to the city. On her way back to the life she’d become so accustomed to, the life that seemed so petty and insignificant, so materialistic and inconsequential compared with the plight of the children at the orphanage.

  It was beautiful here, with the palace in the backdrop, the high ivy-covered walls guarding it like a fortress. And just below those walls the dense foliage with the almost-hidden path that she’d walked down barefoot—her sandals dangling from her fingers—until the warm sand tickled between her toes. She was just close enough that when the tide came in, it brushed against her ankles in a cool sprinkle of warm water.

  She walked what seemed like aimless steps as thoughts whirled throughout her mind. And then, with the scenery was so perfect that the mood was set almost as if it had been scripted, she heard his voice calling her name. “Karena.”