by Lori Wilde
Bianca wrapped her arms around his neck, gave him a soft kiss and whispered, “Why do you think I let you catch me?”
HALF AN HOUR later, they arrived at his palatial home. She probably should have taken the time to notice the modern mansion, but she had eyes only for Thomaz.
He led her by the hand up the spiral staircase to a huge loft bedroom with wide plate-glass windows overlooking the ocean.
Near the window, covered in moonlight streaming silvery-white through the glass, sat a pedestal bed. Thomaz stopped near the bed and pulled her into his embrace.
But she was the one to kiss him, letting Thomaz know they were equal partners in this. Driven by blinding need, she stripped his suit jacket from his broad shoulders and started undoing the buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt.
He took over the kiss, holding her steady with his hands as his tongue explored.
She wriggled against him, absorbing his heat, and ran her palms underneath his shirt, her palms caressing his bare belly. “Slow down, bonita, this is not the way to get a one-hour orgasm.”
“I’m beginning to think that’s just a myth. You know, like unicorns.”
He laughed. “Just you wait and see.”
His big hands caressed her body. Butterfly pressure, soft and light. Wherever he touched, she tingled—the hollow spot where her collarbones met, the gully between her breasts, her navel, the apex of her thighs.
Cold, hot, soft, hard, she felt so many contrasting sensations at once.
He kneaded her skin in delicate, rhythmic motions that had her squirming for more. “Tell me what you want, bonita, what is your heart’s desire?” he murmured. What was her heart’s desire? For too long she’d done what was expected of her. She’d poured herself into her work because deep inside she’d believed she was only valued for what she accomplished, not for who she really was. Oddly enough, all that striving and achieving had left her empty inside, so she’d worked even harder to forget that she felt empty.
But things had changed since she’d come to Brazil. She’d changed, and Bianca was ready to express her true feelings and ask for what she needed. “I want your mouth on me,” she whispered, and touched between her thighs. “Ah, bonita, I am so proud of you,” Thomaz said.
And then his mouth was on her in the most disarming way. Hot and wet and glorious.
All thought shut down and she just let herself feel. His palm found her inner thigh, traveled up so his fingers tangled in the springy curls. Her body moved in rhythm with his devastating mouth, his wicked hand. Enchantment stole her brain, as he encouraged her with adoring noises. She drifted in a storm of sensation, her entire body singing his praises.
Time seemed to stretch. He brought her to the edge again and again, but didn’t allow her to fall over. He teased her to the point of begging for release, and then he’d back off, slow things down, ease the pressure.
It started in her toes, the beautiful ascent. White-hot wires of sensation thrust into her nerve endings, electrifying her cells, her flesh, her bones. She threaded her hands in his thick, soft dark hair, as the climb escalated, a corkscrew spiral of sheer bliss.
Her release built like a gathering storm, coming in at a slow rumble. Thomaz prolonged her ecstasy with slow kisses, flowering strokes. The storm’s wind rushed through her as if she was a hollow tube, pulling her inside out. She vibrated from her toes to her head. On and on and on, caught in a whirlwind of sheer rapture.
Then she hit the eye of the storm—piercingly hot, yet strangely quiet. Sublime paradise. How had he achieved this? Where had he come from, this sex wizard?
She lost control, lost everything, and in the process found herself. It could have lasted an hour or an eternity, because time had ceased to exist. The entire world faded into this complete and utter bliss.
Thomaz roused her after a while, and when she kissed him he tasted creamy and rich and he smelled intoxicating. Her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. His hands skimmed over her body until her need was raw and tumultuous again. His tongue thrust past her teeth, firing her urgency.
“I want…” she gasped. “I want, I want…”
“Yes?”
“To feel you buried inside of me.”
She heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open, then his hands tenderly brushing her thighs. She dropped her legs wide, giving him full access to her. Nothing hidden. Nothing held back.
He entered her carefully, slowly, and she hissed in a deep breath at his exquisite length pushing against her aching flesh. He stroked her forehead, whispered endearments, kissed her as he slipped in deeper and deeper.
Finally, they were fused. One. Bonded.
Thomaz quickened the pace.
Bianca was gasping and begging for more. She was tumbling, soaring, shuddering.
Who knew, who knew it could feel like this?
Thomaz. That was who.
“Bonita,” he cried.
The muscles of her vagina spasmed, squeezing his cock tight. She experienced a release that transcended anything she’d ever had.
In a haze, she heard Thomaz’s moans mingling with hers, he shuddered against her, and she saw his face transform into a mask of ecstasy. Inside her he swelled and she felt the hotness of his release as it filled the condom.
His hands went around her waist and he fell to one side of the mattress, rolling her over with him. They lay together panting and spent. Touching, murmuring, kissing softly until they both fell into deep sleep.
BIANCA woke with aches all over her body so sweet she had to smile. What a workout Thomaz had given her. One-hour orgasms indeed. Her grin widened and she sat up. The spot on the mattress next to her was empty and the smell of bacon and eggs wafted into the room.
He was cooking breakfast for her.
Then, she heard the sounds of men’s voices, followed by the closing of a door. Did they have visitors?
A white terry-cloth robe had been laid out across a plush leather chair beside the window. She got out of bed, put on the robe and peered out the window just in time to see Philippe climb into his car and motor away. Idly, she wondered what he was doing here so early on a Sunday morning.
The delicious smells got the better of her and she traipsed downstairs, following her nose to the kitchen. It was ultramodern with gleaming granite counter tops and hardwood floors. But what captured her full attention was the man at the stove, busily flipping pancakes. “Good morning, bonita,” he greeted her with a smile.
She started across the room toward him, her heart filled with joy, when she bumped into the countertop and knocked a hand towel to the floor. Something had been underneath the towel and it hit the ground with a flat, weighted sound.
She looked down and saw a black folder with some loose documents that had fallen out. She bent to pick them up, but froze halfway down as she realized what they were.
It was an investigative report including a photograph of her. She was the subject of an investigation? Bianca blinked. What was this?
She reached for the papers, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. Clutching them in her hand, she raised her head to meet Thomaz’s gaze. The guilty expression on his face told the entire tale.
“You had me investigated.”
He nodded, looking miserable.
“Is that what Philippe was doing here? Did he bring this to you?”
“He is a cop,” Thomaz acknowledged, shifting his feet.
The bacon was starting to burn; the acrid smell permeated the room.
“But why?”
He clinched his jaw. “I was falling for you, bonita, and I had to be sure you weren’t a gold digger. You have to understand my position. I am a wealthy man and—”
She cut him off. “Have you read it?”
He nodded. “It says that you tried to steal an advertising campaign from a rival firm, but they were able to present it before you could. They reported you to your boss and it went on your record.”
Bianca froze, chilled to the bone.
“It was the other way around,” she said. “He stole it from me, but if I’d tried to protest, I would have had to tell them all the embarrassing details. That I met a man and in a very short time he turned my head. I lost my focus. He was very charming. A lot like you. He seduced me with lavish gifts and excellent food.”
“You don’t need to explain.”
“Apparently I do.” She tossed the papers on the counter. “He told me I was beautiful, that I was the one he’d been waiting for and I believed him. I fell head over heels. I thought…I thought.” How dumb she’d been. Believing in the fantasy. “I trusted him, told him about my work, and he stole my campaign. When we got back to the States I discovered he’d lured away my biggest client and lodged a complaint that I’d tried to steal his idea. I was almost fired over it. You can believe either me or this report. I don’t really care which.”
“I believe you.” He stepped toward her, but she held out a palm to stop him.
“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t. I was so stupid. I thought last night meant something. I finally let down my guard and I chose to trust you, but for all your big talk about trust, you couldn’t trust me, now could you?”
“Bianca, please,” he pleaded.
She couldn’t believe she’d let herself fall for him. Of course this could never work. The man lived in a mansion. He was so rich he had to have his dates investigated. She had no business with a man like him. Shaken all the way to her soul, Bianca knew she couldn’t tell him what she felt for him. If she said she was in love with him, he’d never let her go.
“You don’t have to worry, Thomaz. I’m not after your money. For me, this was nothing but a good lay.”
Bianca.
No matter how hard he tried, Thomaz could not stop thinking about the woman who’d stolen his heart. He had no idea how it had happened or precisely when she’d sneaked past his defenses, but he was one-hundred-percent in love. And she thought of him as nothing more than a fling.
Thomaz didn’t miss the irony. For years he’d avoided commitment, complications, any real responsibility, and now, because of Bianca, he wanted the whole messy, complex thing. Marriage, kids, happily-ever-after. Everything his parents had had, but that Thomaz had shied away from because he feared the pain that came with losing what you prized most.
He’d done everything he could to forget the past and not worry about the future, but now he couldn’t keep his mind from the future. With Bianca. His mind was drawn again and again to her. He couldn’t eat—he’d lost six pounds since she’d flown home. He couldn’t sleep—he’d wake in the middle of the night in his big house and stare at the empty spot in his bed. He no longer took any joy in his hobbies.
He tried everything he knew to break the spell, throwing himself into his favorite activities—dancing the samba until dawn, playing polo, racing his speedboat over the ocean waves, driving his Ferrari way too fast.
But nothing could soothe the loneliness he felt deep inside his soul. All the pursuits he’d once enjoyed seemed so shallow, so purposeless. How had he managed to fall in love with a woman who lived a world away? A woman who’d made it quite clear she was only interested in the temporary physical pleasures they’d shared.
His secretary brought him the sales figures from America and he saw that the lingerie line was racking up impressive sales based on Bianca’s strategy to market it as a sex toy for the hip, young, urban professional woman. But all he could think about was how she had made it happen. And that she’d conceded the bet with her friends. For him.
Bianca.
Thomaz looked at her picture that had come in the report Philippe had assembled and took a deep breath. How in the hell am I ever going to get over you?
SEVERAL weeks after returning from Brazil, Bianca sat in her boss’s office. The sleek Madison Avenue offices of Stillman, Burke and Hollister were commonly abuzz with activity, but today there was added excitement in the air. Four weeks after they’d launched the campaign for Thomaz Santos’s Catch Me if You Can lingerie line, they’d gotten the sales figures and the results were toast-worthy. Which was why Bianca’s bosses had cracked open a bottle of champagne and invited her into Stillman’s hallowed office.
“To a job well done,” Roger Burke said and lifted his glass.
“To a job well done,” everyone else echoed and clinked the rims of their champagne flutes.
They drank, and then Carl Stillman cleared his throat. “Honestly, Bianca, after what happened last year, we weren’t sure you were the right person for the job, but you proved us wrong.”
Bianca cringed. If her bosses only knew what had happened in Rio, she’d be getting fired, not accolades.
“Thomaz Santos wrote a glowing letter, singing your praises. You’ve got quite an admirer in our Brazilian client.”
“Thank you, sir.” Thomaz had given her a positive review? After the way they’d left things, she was surprised. “It was a delight working for Mr. Santos.”
Carl cast a glance at the door to his office, then looked back at Bianca. “After your performance, we were going to offer you a promotion…”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Were?”
“It has come to our attention there’s another offer on the table, and you might want to consider them both before making a decision.”
Bianca frowned. Another offer? What were they talking about? “Sir, I’m afraid I’m a bit confused—”
She got no further before the conference door opened and Thomaz walked in. His face was expressionless, his wavy hair combed back off his forehead. What was he doing here?
Her heart jumped, suddenly flooded with hope. She was so busy staring at him that she barely registered the fact that everyone else was slipping out the door. The last person pulled it shut behind them, leaving her and Thomaz all alone.
No sooner did the door close than she was seized in his arms and he kissed her with merciless abandon. Hot tingles of sensation rushed to every place in her body that remembered what Thomaz had taught her—how to relax, let go and revel in pleasure. He kissed her for a solid five minutes, holding her tightly as if she was the most precious thing on earth.
Finally, he pulled back so he could look her in the eyes.
She gazed up at him, unable to believe this was really happening. That he was here in New York, his arms wrapped around her, the taste of him sweet on her tongue.
His palms came up to cradle each side of her face and he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes glowed with tender emotions. Could it be, did she dare hope it might be…love?
“You’re here,” she said.
“I’m here,” he assured her.
“Why?”
“Do you really have to ask?” he murmured.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“I’m here for you.”
“Because of the increased sales figures?”
“No, though I’m glad of that,” he said, “and I have no doubt it was all your doing.”
Bianca flushed with pride. “I worked hard.”
“I know.”
“So why did you come to New York?”
He playfully swatted her fanny.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“The ‘good lay’ thing.”
Bianca grinned and wriggled against him. “Well, it was good.”
Thomaz growled low in his throat, dipped his head and raked his teeth gently along her throat. His mouth sent shivers of raw desire shuddering throughout her body. “You lied,” he said. “I was much more to you than that.”
“Look at the ego on you.”
“Look at the mouth on you,” he said and went in for another kiss.
“Thomaz.” She sighed, giving herself over to sensation.
After thoroughly kissing her, Thomaz put his hands on both of her arms and stepped away so he wouldn’t be tempted and get carried away again before he could say what he’d come here to say. It wasn’t easy. He’d never spoken those words before to anyone other than his parents.
>
But as he took in Bianca’s dear face, he knew she was the one he hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting for. So long, playboy lifestyle. Goodbye, doubts and fears. Adieu what used to be. There was a whole new life waiting for him. A life he hadn’t even dared to dream of before Bianca.
“Bonita,” he whispered. “You are in my blood, in my heart, in my soul.” He saw the emotions play across her face, knew she felt them, too.
“Why me? Why now?”
“Other than the fact I’m madly in love with you?”
Bianca inhaled sharply.
“That’s right. I love you. I love your dogged intensity and the way you don’t let me get away with anything. I love your energy and that you have enough stamina to keep up with me. I love your adventurous nature, how you’re willing to try things you’ve never tried before and you keep an open mind. I love how self-reliant you are, how you’re committed to your goals. And I love how you give me the freedom to do my own thing, even when I no longer want that freedom.”
“What are you saying, Thomaz?”
“I’m saying I want commitment. I want to settle down. It’s time. I’m no longer afraid to take a chance, to grow up, to risk pain in order to get the greatest pleasure of all—love. I love you, Bianca and I’m asking you to give me a chance to prove it. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Oh, Thomaz.” Bianca breathed. Then she said what she’d been longing to say for weeks. “I love you, too.”
And then there were three….
NEVER ENOUGH
1
Madison’s banking on finding amore, but what about true love…?
JAKE STRICKLAND pushed the heavy, black-framed glasses up on his nose, peering through the nonprescription lenses at the Power Point presentation projected on the wall of the main tiki hut. Damn things kept sliding down and it was all he could do to keep himself from yanking the glasses off. Playing the role of orchid-loving geek was harder than it looked.
“You know what they say about the amore orchid?” whispered Bunk Jones, the seventyish guy sitting next to him.