by Jill Shalvis
They weren’t alone.
A low-profile sedan followed him following Nina, keeping well back, but definitely on their tail.
Normally, his adrenaline would have kicked in, and so would the thrill of the chase and the highly anticipated victory.
His adrenaline did kick in, but oddly enough not the thrill. He didn’t like the thought of someone else after Nina. It was the damn memories haunting him now, he knew. But he’d gone soft once, and as a result, had lost the dearest thing to him.
That could never happen again since he no longer had a heart, but as he drove through the starlit Rio night, Rick hit the gas pedal with an uneasy urgency.
* * *
THE FIRST THING Nina did inside her condo was lock and double lock her door. She had goose bumps up and down her limbs, and though she could have called any one of her father’s men over to check on her, she felt silly.
The tough, brooding American was long gone, and she was safe.
As always, she raced to check her mail, hoping, praying... Flipping hurriedly through the bills and advertisements, she held her breath.
But no little letter from Baba, her old nanny, as arranged and promised through Terry. No news of her sister at all.
Nina sank to the couch, for once blind to the incredible view of the deep-blue bay spread out before her from floor-to-ceiling windows. She felt sick, and so tense she could have shattered.
Terry, whereever she was, had been sending twice monthly letters through Baba. Those letters said precious little, but they’d been all Nina had, and she’d treasured each one, hoarding it close to her heart for several hours before forcing herself to burn it.
She hadn’t received one in over a month, and every day Nina grew more frantic.
Now there was an American asking around and he had a picture of Terry with a man she’d never seen.
It all combined to tell Nina the truth. Her sister was in trouble, even deeper trouble than being framed for embezzlement and smuggling gems.
Grabbing the phone, praying Rio’s notoriously bad phone service was in order, Nina dialed Baba. She woke the poor woman up, and quickly asked the same question she’d been asking her almost nightly now for weeks.
“Any word?”
“Nada, minha amada.”
Nothing, my sweetheart.
Baba didn’t say more, but she didn’t have to—it was all there in her voice, the fear, the worry. Nina hung up and tried to calm herself, but the feeling of dread continued to intensify. Something had happened, something had gone wrong.
What was she going to do?
The American kept popping into her head. How had he gotten that picture? And what did he want with Terry?
Would he just go away?
She wanted to think so, but despite appearances, she wasn’t that naive. The man had been too focused, too intense for him to simply vanish without getting what he wanted.
And too extraordinary.
That she’d even noticed during those few moments of terror really disturbed her, but there was no denying there’d been something in his gaze, something deep and nearly hidden that had startled her.
Pain.
The realization rocked her, then made her laugh. The man had terrified her. Yet she’d bothered to notice his hidden pain.
She needed help, serious help.
A sound from the kitchen distracted her, and she went still for one second, before grabbing a fire poker from the fireplace she never used.
The only sound now was her own ragged breathing as she tiptoed to the double swinging doors and peeked in.
Nothing.
She’d spooked herself, and just as she let the air out of her lungs, the phone rang, causing her to nearly leap out of her skin. With a hand to her chest, she shook her head at herself and picked up the receiver.
“Nina, the financials are due in the morning.”
The gruff, no-nonsense, no greeting was typical of John Henry. He was second in command of All That Glitters, next to her.
It hadn’t always been that way. Once upon a time, before she and Terry had been old enough to take the reins, John Henry had run the place for their invalid father.
And when their father had deemed the surprisingly business-savvy Terry old enough to take over, he’d removed the job from John Henry without qualm, leaving the fiercely ambitious man reporting to a woman he not so secretly felt was beneath him.
He’d never forgiven any of them for that, and Nina, the only one left to deal with him on a daily basis, got to face the brunt of his attitude. “The financials are complete,” she said, ignoring his silent surprise that she’d done her job. She always did her job, sometimes at the expense of her own happiness, but that he expected her to fail, even wanted her to, hurt. “But thank you for your offer of help.”
He ignored the dry quip. “Everything is good?”
The tall, stern, perpetually frowning man wasn’t asking about her health or her life, she’d learned the hard way. On her first day, John Henry had asked her the same question, and at the thought that she was only there because Terry was dead and buried, she’d burst into tears.
John Henry had simply walked out of her office without a word, coming back when she’d composed herself.
“Everything is perfectly in balance,” she said now.
“Did you include the paperwork your father had worked on during his last visit to Arraial do Cabo?” he asked.
“Yes, I—” Oh, no. The Monteverde vacation estate! Good Lord, how could she have so completely forgotten?
Nina had long ago gone through her sister’s condo, burning everything and anything that could have been used against Terry. Correspondence, notes, journals, everything.
Illegal, yes, but Nina hadn’t cared. Her sister was innocent, framed for whatever reason, and the authorities had gone along with it, so all rules had been off as far as Nina was concerned. She’d have done far worse to protect her sister.
People thought of Nina as the good girl. Ha! If they only knew the fire she had burning deep within her, the fierce love and sense of loyalty she felt toward her family.
But she’d forgotten the vacation home she hadn’t been to since Terry’s “death.” Who knew what her sister had out there that could be used to track her down.
“Nina?”
“Yes, John Henry,” she said carefully. “I am here. And you are quite right, I had forgotten about the paperwork at the vacation estate.”
His silence said volumes about what he thought of her first and only “mistake.”
“In fact,” she said trying to contain her sudden attack of nerves, “I need to drive up to Arrairal do Cabo myself. I will leave now and be back at the office by tomorrow afternoon the latest.”
“If you insist.”
He could have offered any one of a dozen minions to make the three-hour drive and handle the chore for her, but he didn’t, and for once Nina was grateful John Henry was selfish and bitter and resentful.
She needed to go, and she needed to go alone.
* * *
NINA MADE THE TRIP into the mountains with nothing but her own nerves for company.
It was horrifying how the mind could play tricks. She imagined she was being followed. Imagined being kidnapped and tortured.
Imagined her sister dead for real.
But common sense came over her. First of all, no one knew where she was going besides John Henry, and while he was a cranky pain in her behind, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt his precious job.
As for being followed, the road was so well traveled by both locals and tourists, even this late at night, that it would be nearly impossible for anyone to follow her, especially a gorgeous, brooding American not familiar with the winding highway.
Besides, she simply wasn’t that important. Not to anyone, not anymore. Her father was house-bound and cared for by his adoring servants. She visited him every other week, and while he appreciated her running All That Glitters, he didn’t seem to need any
thing more from her.
Ah, that was it.
Self-pity.
She was feeling that strange, inexplicable loneliness again, the sense that there was no one she could trust with the real Nina Monteverde.
With a skill that came from long years of practice, she pushed the feelings away. But when she pulled up to the family estate, the beautiful Spanish-style ranch that sprawled thirty acres over the mountainside, memories washed over her.
Here was where they’d spent many summers, she and her sister, watched over by servants and Baba. It hadn’t been a hardship, because for the most part they’d been left alone to do as they pleased.
For Terry it had been sunbathing and boy gazing.
For Nina, it had been reading and secret boy gazing. She’d never had the nerve and splashiness of her sister, and now, given the life Terry had been forced to lead for the past year and a half, Nina should be content.
But the truth was, she’d always admired Terry for knowing what she wanted, for going after it with such complete abandon. To know Terry was to look at her. She’d worn her life and emotions on her sleeve for all to see.
No one could look at Nina and know her life’s ambitions, and certainly not her emotions. She’d been hiding them so long she wasn’t even certain herself anymore who she really was.
Going inside, she carefully locked up behind her. Then, because it was so late and she felt more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling, she made her way directly to her bedroom.
She’d search the place first thing in the morning.
Yawning, she undressed. With one look out into the incredible night sky awash with millions of stars, their reflection dancing over the wild, dark mountains, her head hit the pillow and she was out.
* * *
SHE DREAMED BADLY, and as she tossed and turned, she attributed it to the fact she hadn’t yet done what she’d come for.
God only knew what clues Terry had left in her hurry to escape Brazil, and now that someone was looking for her, Nina felt that urgency as her own.
But she finally fell into a deep sleep, this time dreaming of fire-green, searing eyes and the intense expression of the American’s arresting face as he leaned toward her, over her, closer and closer with that long, beautifully formed body of his, until her breath backed up in her lungs.
Was he going to kiss her?
Was that why her body tingled in vibrant awareness, her pulse dancing and leaping as she arched closer?
His hands reached out, and she imagined them caressing her every inch, giving her pleasure such as she’d never known.
But instead they circled her neck and started to squeeze.
That’s when she remembered, even deeply asleep, that the lean, edgy man wasn’t just beautiful.
He was dangerous.
She needed to remember that, and promised herself she would as she shifted into a more normal sleep. She dreamed of Terry, of their happy, care-free childhood as a watchful part of her chased away the disturbing dreams.
And awakened with a silent scream when a hand covered her mouth.
“Where is she?”
Nina could see nothing, which added to her terror. Kicking out into the dark room, she found herself pinned to the mattress, a hard, powerful body stretched out over hers, her arms immobile above her head.
“Come on, Nina.” He said the name slowly, purposely, in his very American way, and she knew instantly who held her so intimately. “Tell me.”
Fear clouded her brain for a moment, before her rare temper took over and she remembered to use her knee forcefully.
A satisfying grunt sounded in her ear, but he recovered quickly, simply using his superior strength and weight to hold her still. “Hey! Careful!”
That he sounded more incredulous than angry didn’t stop her from struggling, and though he was on to her now, she still gave him a good fight.
“Don’t, damn it,” he grated in her ear, doing his best to both hold her and fight her off, but her fear and temper had dulled her mind, and she fought him mindlessly, getting in one more carefully aimed knee before he pressed her hard into the mattress.
Lifting his head, chest heaving from the exertion, he spoke an inch from her mouth. “Lord, you’re a squirmy little thing.”
His skin was warm, his body hard with muscle. His weight wasn’t uncomfortable, which disturbed her.
So did the way her body seemed to welcome his thigh thrust high between hers, forcing her legs open. Despite the confusing, mixed signals her brain sent, she continued to struggle. “Get off me!”
“Soon as you promise not to scratch my eyes out. Or other, more critical parts.”
“I promise.” She’d promise him the moon if he’d get off her.
He slanted her a doubtful gaze, then sighed the sigh of a martyr, as though he was the one being inconvenienced. “Look, your virtue is safe with me, all right? You’re not even my type, so just relax and answer my questions.”
Not only had he invaded her home and scared her half to death, but she was quite certain she’d just been insulted. “Get off me!”
“First tell me why you have two goons following you. Oh, and the question of the day, of course. Where is your sister?”
CHAPTER THREE
“THERE IS NO ONE following me but you!” Nina cried.
“Not anymore,” Rick agreed. “Because once they saw you pull in here, they took off.”
She stopped struggling for a second. “You... must be mistaken.”
“And your sister?”
“I told you, she is dead.”
Rick stared down into Nina’s face, seeing the fear and fury, highlighted by the faint moonlight coming in the window.
Her fear bothered him. He knew he should reassure her he didn’t rape and pillage for a living, but all he could think was...did she not realize he could see right through her? Everything about her, the wide eyes, the uneven breathing, the not quite direct eye contact—everything told him she was lying through her teeth.
He’d seen and done it all, and as a result knew most people were capable of deception. Maybe he’d turned cynical, yes, but he had good reason to be exactly who and what he was, down to his very toes.
All he knew was that this woman, sweet and lovely as she may be, had lied, because a woman who’d died a year and a half ago couldn’t have given birth a couple of months later.
“Try again,” he said, wanting this over with. Her lie wasn’t the only thing getting to him. Every time he’d seen her in the two days he’d been staking out All That Glitters, she’d been fully dressed in colorful but modest business attire. Even her hair had been restrained.
But now...my God. Now she was the antithesis of that cool, elegant woman. Her chestnut hair sprawled across the pillow in silken waves, and also across his arm, which still held her hands over her head. It was long and thick and scented with some shampoo that made him want to lean in close and sniff some more.
And her body... Well, she most definitely had one. She wore a thin cotton T-shirt. No bra. And since she was pressed to him like shrink-wrap, he could feel her warm, full breasts, her nipples drilling holes into his chest. One arm of the shirt had slid off her shoulder in their tussle, revealing a smooth, tanned shoulder that he had the most ridiculous urge to bend down and bite.
And that was before he realized he lay between her spread thighs, having put himself in that erotic position during their struggle. Even worse, the hem of her T-shirt had tangled around her waist, revealing a pair of plain white cotton panties that suddenly seemed sexier than the most revealing lingerie.
She was amazing.
And her eyes spit bullets. He understood then that the restrained, almost prim woman he’d seen at work was a cover-up. A sham. There was nothing restrained or prim about her.
At the thought, his body reacted, and shoved up against the V of her opened legs as he was, he knew she could feel him. He forced himself to look into her face and found her staring up at him with
a mixture of expressions all her own.
Horror.
And reluctant, befuddled arousal.
That made two of them, he thought grimly, pulling back enough that she could close her legs together, which she did so quickly that she slid against the front of his jeans, causing more torture.
At the helpless groan ripped from him, she closed her eyes.
He cleared his husky throat. “About your sister.”
As she had before, she drove her knee up, and since he’d started to relax his hold, her aim was far more accurate this time, hitting him high on the inside of his left thigh. High enough to send stars dancing across his vision. The breath whooshed out of him and he swore the air blue.
Cringing back as far as she could go, Nina closed her eyes tighter.
And damn it, that little protective gesture made him feel like a jerk. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you. I just want the truth.”
It should bother him, he supposed, that he was holding back plenty of truths himself. One, he feared Terry was in deep danger. Two, Mitch clearly imagined himself in love with her. And three, she’d left a baby on a doorstep in Texas.
But Nina probably knew all of that. And yet if that was true, why hadn’t Terry left her baby with Nina?
There had to be a damn good reason for that, and until he knew it, baby Hope remained a secret.
“I do not have the truth you seek,” Nina said in her formal but flawless English. “I have nothing for you.”
He was used to that—there weren’t many who had much for Rick. But he no longer cared. “I’m not going anywhere.” Deliberately, he lay more fully over her. “We can hang out all night, for all I care.”
“My sister is dead,” she whispered, her voice suddenly thick, which would have made him feel like an even bigger jerk if he hadn’t known that to be a lie.
Terry wasn’t dead. She’d just somehow managed to convince everyone else that it was true.
Question was, did Nina know that truth?
Right this very moment Mitch was probably holding the baby he and Terry had made together. Mitch believed Terry needed their help.
Rick didn’t yet know what he believed, but he would learn the truth.