by Chloe Blake
“Nicole! Rallenta. Wait!” Recognizing the Italian accent, Nicole turned to see Toni coming at her with a lopsided grin. Wild and charming were the two words that came to mind, and possibly single since he wore no rings. Not that she was interested. Discreetly checking out a man’s ring finger was a bad habit she’d like to break, but she would bet money on his having a few girlfriends. Maybe even all at the same time.
“Do not go to this address later tonight,” he said, looking over his shoulder before handing her a small card. Vin Amante, it read. There was a wine glass drawn underneath. An address with GPS coordinates was on the back. “We will not be having fun there. Don’t go,” he said, backing away with a wicked grin. “I warned you.”
“Hey, what is Vin Amante?” she shouted, but he was already gone. It sounded like a strip club.
Shaking her head, she put the card in her purse. Reverse psychology be damned. She wasn’t going to that party to watch Destin throw dollar bills at high-class strippers. If Destin had wanted her there, he would have invited her. It was the least he could have done after ruining her appointments and possibly her career.
Taking a deep breath, she went in search of Clay, unsure how much longer she could put on a happy face. Stripping off her dress, running cold water over her achy ankle and crying a little seemed like the night’s most appealing options. When she found Clay, he was standing and holding onto a very drunk Diane.
“There you are, girl, I thought you went overboard.” Clay laughed at his own joke. “Diane is wrecked. I think we gotta call it a night.”
“No worries, Clay. I’m just going to finish this drink and head out, too.”
“Are you sure? I can stay with ya.” He looked around at the crowd. “Maybe I should stay.”
Nicole took a gulp of her drink. “Go. I’ll be done in two seconds. I’ll be okay, I promise.” Nicole let her gaze drift to the back corner, and she caught a glimpse of Destin, watching her.
“On second thought, I’ll take this downstairs. So I’ll walk out with you.”
It took about fifteen minutes just to get down to the lobby, as Diane kept kicking off her shoes in the hallway and the elevator. Nicole stopped when they got to the quiet lobby lounge.
“I’m gonna hear from ya soon about our offer?”
“You betcha.”
Clay gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then hauled Diane over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Chuck tipped his hat with one of Diane’s shoes.
What a night. Nicole slid into an empty leather chair and sipped her drink. She didn’t even know what it was, but it was delicious. Boys’ night out, huh? It sounded crazy, but it was nice to see Destin enjoying time with his friends. He deserved happiness, she supposed.
Finishing her drink, she rose and walked outside to find a valet. She was tipping the young man and getting into her car when she saw them.
The group, in button-down shirts and fancy shoes, walked outside like a scene from Swingers. Her eyes followed Destin, and she studied the way he talked animatedly with his hands. She guessed it was time for strippers and debauchery.
She, however, was ready to go home. Not to the hotel. To New York.
She quickly drove by, praying Destin didn’t recognize the SUV, but was caught behind a line of cars inching toward the exit. She watched half of the men pile into Destin’s Jeep, while the other half got into a sleek red car. They were two vehicles behind her. Finally, she reached the exit and turned right, glancing furtively in her rearview; she saw Destin’s Jeep turn left.
Don’t you dare. Don’t do it.
What was that wine-glass logo doing on that card?
It’s none of your business.
But she was already making a U-turn.
Chapter 16
This is wrong, intrusive. You remember what happened last time you followed him? Turn around, said a voice in her head.
You were invited, said another. Her foot never left the gas.
She slowed when Destin and his friends did, twisting and turning through the narrow streets. Nicole wasn’t sure where they were going, but she could tell they were getting farther away from the city center.
Lighting was scarce, but there was enough to see the trash that lined the sidewalks and the graffiti on the storefronts. Rusted bicycles were chained against the walls and neon-colored apartments were stacked on top of each other like Legos. They’d crossed into a favela, she was almost sure of it. She should turn around.
Just a little farther, said that inner voice.
Destin’s Jeep took a sharp left into a dirt parking lot filled with cars. Nicole rolled her SUV to a stop beside a shadowed wall. Before her, people in a long line were waiting to get into a closed-off warehouse with no roof. Clouds of smoke and multicolored lights rose into the air, and muffled club music could be heard.
Two doormen lifted a velvet rope as Destin and his boy band approached. They disappeared inside while others were checked and waved away. She’d go in, take a look around and go home. He didn’t need to know she was there. She could keep her distance and stay lost in the crowd.
Nicole parked her SUV, dabbed on her lipstick and confidently walked up to the velvet rope. She’d charmed her way into her share of New York clubs; getting past these two doormen should be a piece of cake.
Neither spoke English. She told them her name, then dropped Destin’s as well. When she got blank stares, she flashed the card Toni had given her. To her relief, one of the doormen lifted the velvet rope. Nicole stepped inside and a samba/hip-hop hybrid filled her ears and rattled her chest. Electric lighting flashed over sweaty bodies that were gyrating against one another. A lone DJ manipulated turntables and laptops on a platform above the crowd. Behind him, a wall-sized digital counter was displayed, the numbers gradually increasing in small amounts.
Women in black tank tops poured drinks behind a long bar, and the surrounding haze was a mixture of dry ice and smoke.
Now, this was a party.
Nicole scanned the crowd for Destin. The sheer size of the place made it difficult. How was she supposed to avoid him if she didn’t know where he was? She dipped down and worked her way across the room toward a dark corner. Feeling too exposed, she pushed her way through the throng by the bar.
“He’ll shit when he finds out you’re here.” Toni. She whirled around.
“So don’t tell him.”
“Lie to my best friend that enemy number one has infiltrated our party?”
“Then you shouldn’t have invited me. And I am not his enemy!”
“I said don’t come,” he teased. “And aren’t you the big bad wolf out to steal his land?”
“You mean sell. And it’s not his.”
“Only on paper.” He pointed to the counter. “But it will be.”
“He’s crowdfunding?”
“Among other things.”
The counter barely read six figures. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s not enough.”
“That’s what me and the others are here for, bella. And that’s just for today.”
Impressive. As was his boyish face. “You realize you have to promise something in return.”
“You obviously haven’t read our little donation list.” He took one from the bar and handed it to her. “Here, should I put you down for, I don’t know, a thousand? Or is that a conflict of interest?”
She ignored the barb. “According to this, my donation gets me a small stake in the winery.”
“And two free cases of wine a year. Don’t forget that one. Bartender?” He held up two fingers.
“Is he serious?”
“Dead serious. Profit sharing is important to him.”
“What else is important to him?” Two shots of a clear liquid appeared.
“You, apparently. A few strategic calls to your company could have had yo
u back in New York days ago. He’s quite concerned with how you’ll fare in all of this.”
“You seem irritated by that. Should I just pack up and leave Brazil, then?”
“Yes. I like to know that my investment isn’t in jeopardy. But you can stay for one drink.” He winked and gave her a shot. They clinked. “Salute.”
She gritted her teeth as the cachaça went down her throat.
The Italian looked into the crowd, then back to her with a smirk. “And now you can have a dance.”
She looked around. Back, forth, back, spin, side to side. It was serious choreography that several couples around them had mastered—so much so that they put a sexy spin on it. A dip here, a booty roll there. Nicole was struggling to keep up. She could do a mean two-step, and a twerk or two, but what she was seeing was ballroom-type stuff with a dirty twist.
The music turned slower, sexier, and she began pulling away.
“That was fun!” she shouted. “But—”
Toni spun her around again, and when she stopped, she was staring at a familiar couple. Not five feet away from them, Destin was dancing with Thereza, and she was all over him.
“Oh.” Toni feigned surprise beside her. “Look who it is. What do you say, Bella, one more dance?”
He gave her a knowing look, and a mischievous smile spread across his face. He was doing this on purpose, but she was fighting off jealousy and didn’t care. She nodded. Toni spun her again so his back was against hers, and he bent to her ear.
“Just follow my lead.”
* * *
Thereza’s body snaked down Destin’s again. He pulled his pelvis away slightly when she turned and slinked back. She was extra-aggressive tonight. Because she was the sister of his best friend, he’d humor her—he caught her palm as she reached between his legs—to a point.
Usually he didn’t dance, but tonight he was celebrating. His investors were lined up, the crowdfunding was a success, and his father had no buyer prospects. The land was going to be his. He could feel it.
Then there was Nicole. She’d looked so beautiful at Hotel Mystique that, when she’d walked away, it was all he could do to keep his eyes off her and that huge blond American. His interference with her appointments had her angry, and rightfully so, but seeing that uncertainty in her eyes almost killed him. She didn’t deserve to be in the middle of this.
She didn’t know it yet, but when Destin was ready to make an offer, he wanted her to present it to his father. She’d still get credit for the sale, and honestly, he trusted no one else to make sure any contracts between himself and his father were fair. It would work out for both of them, as he’d promised. Nicole could go home assured of a promotion.
Destin stopped midstep. Thereza frowned.
Shaking off the ominous feeling that washed over him, Destin spun Thereza to arm’s length, then twirled her back in, remembering most of the samba steps his wife had taught him. Thereza, however, seemed to be auditioning for Dancing with the Stars. She tossed her hair and licked her lips, executing a move that had her breasts threatening to spill out from her tight dress.
It was time to find her brother.
He looked around frantically, holding Thereza away from him as she backed it up and rolled her hips toward his pelvis again. Where the hell was Toni?
Destin stilled. He saw Nicole’s legs before his gaze fixated on the back of her lace dress. She was staring at her feet, but doing a good job of keeping up with Toni. His friend spun Nicole once, then again, which had her smiling. Her hips swung with each step, and her legs shimmered.
Never had Destin felt jealousy so intense, especially after the warning he’d given Toni at the hotel. Nicole was not to be touched. He’d called dibs, and in guy code that meant hands off. So why the hell were his best friend’s hands all over her?
Toni finally looked up at him with a wink and a smile.
He imagined his fist smashing into his friend’s face. That smile killed women—Destin had seen it. He loved the guy, and understood that flirting was like breathing to him, but he wanted Toni to get his hands off Nicole. Nicole turned then and laid a daring look on Destin. She was rocking sensually from side to side. Toni’s hands were on her hips, and that smile was on his face.
He was dead.
Thereza touched her hand to Destin’s chin to get his attention. He nodded, trying not to be impolite, but twirled them around so he could see Nicole. Thereza turned and followed his gaze. Before he knew what was happening, Thereza broke out of his grasp, kicked her leg in the air, arched her back, swung her body down and slowly glided her ass up to run along Destin’s thighs to his pelvis. Nicole watched, an unsure expression on her face. Her gaze met his. All he could do was shake his head and shrug.
Toni took that as a cue to spin Nicole around and bend her back into a low dip. Her hair came out of the bun in a seductive wave. Then, with the flick of his wrist, Toni snapped her back to his side and pulled her leg onto his hip. Her skirt shifted the black lace patterns, revealing the edge of red silk.
Destin’s fists clenched. That was it. He flashed a look at Toni, and in a smooth, coordinated move, the men swapped women.
“You’re welcome, brother!” Toni shouted.
“Shut up,” Destin growled back.
Nicole was still getting her bearings. When she finally looked up, she bit her lip and grinned at Destin. A little shy. Very sexy.
Thereza hit Toni and stormed off. He rolled his eyes, flashed that smile and went after her.
“Looks like Toni isn’t Thereza’s type,” Nicole said.
“I hope not. They’re half brother and sister. Same father—long story.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry about your appointments.”
Nicole’s eyes softened. She nodded and began to pull back. Destin grabbed her waist and hauled her against him. “The song’s not over.”
He led her into a slow dance, his hands low on her hips, pulling her against him from thigh to chest. She smelled like vetiver and vanilla, and he resisted the urge to taste the silky skin of her neck.
He wanted to know how she’d gotten there, why the hell she was dancing with Toni, if she realized how dangerous it was to be in a favela by herself at such a late hour.
He should be angry that she’d seen his plans firsthand. The wines he’d hid from his father’s company were flowing freely, and she’d met most of the investors in his new venture. If she made a phone call right now, she could ruin him.
He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
And all the ways he could do that thrust his thoughts in a more intimate direction.
Chapter 17
The music pulsed through them, and they began a natural, slow sway, their bodies moving in unspoken unison. He watched her under lowered lids. His grip on her waist tightened, and she felt his hand slip a little lower.
Being wrapped in his arms again felt good.
It occurred to her that she should tell him about the offer from Clay, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment.
Not yet.
She stared at his lips, noting the bottom one was fuller than the top, remembering how firm and smooth they were.
“Not bad.” His voice was low, dark. “Here, follow me.”
She’d never pegged him for a dancer, but before she knew was happening, Destin had spun her around, pulled her back against his chest and run his hand down the side of her body. His hips pressed into her bottom, guiding her into a seductive two-step.
“That’s it,” he breathed.
She did what she was told, leaning back against him, feeling bolder. His hand grazed the side of her breast, sending electricity down her spine.
Nicole backed it up into Destin, rolling and circling her hips, but just brushing the fabric of his pants. She was in the middle of a hip roll when he grabbed her and pulled her more firmly against h
im. She lost her step, but quickly recovered, grinding against him, all of him.
She’d made an assumption after they’d shared their first kiss at the château. Assumption confirmed. He was big everywhere.
His fingers curled into her hips, keeping her in one place. He bent to her ear. “You are trouble.”
She spun around to face him. “Me? You’re the one dirty dancing. Where did you learn this?”
He spun her around and pulled her back to his chest. “I’ve lived in Brazil for a very long time.” He groaned at the way she slid against him. “What’s your excuse?”
“I’m from Brooklyn.” On instinct, Nicole turned around to face Destin, pulled his head down toward her and forced her mouth against his.
It wasn’t supposed to be this good. The music and the kiss created a heady cocktail, paired with his rock-hard body. She let herself get lost in him. She molded her curves to his torso, feeling the strength of him through his shirt, wanting more than just a kiss.
Her hands skimmed up over his chest just as his fingers dug into her hair, and she rose on her toes when his hand stroked down her back. With a squeeze on her ass, he kissed her deeper, pulling her closer against him.
His mouth ate at hers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that they were no longer fighting their feelings. They had crossed into foreplay territory, which made the hard pounding of his heart feel so much sweeter.
But she knew him now, knew that at some point he’d break it off and back away. He’d throw her job in her face and leave her stranded. She had to catch this feeling while she could, so she dug in and kissed him fiercely, holding on to him like her life depended on it.
She ran her fingertips over his beard and reveled in the subtle scratches against her cheeks. His kisses turned slow and deep, the kind that made girls’ panties wriggle off on their own. She began to shamelessly rub herself against his insistent erection.
Destin pulled back, his erratic breathing blowing against her mouth. His lips were just inches from hers, but he didn’t release her.