Reckless Night in Rio

by Jennie Lucas

  Laura stiffened. “Careful like who? Like you?”

  “Yes.”

  She longed to have the satisfaction of wiping that scornful, judgmental look off his face. She wondered what he would say if she told him that he was the father.

  But she knew the satisfaction would be short-lived. If he knew Robby was his child, he might feel duty-bound to take responsibility for a child he couldn’t love, and be pinned down to a domestic life he’d never wanted. And he would hate not just Laura for that, he’d hate Robby, as well.

  She had to keep the secret. Had to. Leaning back against the black leather seat, she pressed her lips shut. Just a few more hours, she told herself desperately. Tomorrow she and Robby would be on the plane back home, a million dollars richer.

  “I thought family meant everything to you.”

  She opened her eyes, blinking back tears. “It does.”

  “I thought you were better than that.”

  “Don’t you think I want a father for Robby? Don’t you think I want to give him the same loving family I had?”

  “So why didn’t you?” Gabriel took a deep breath and said in a low voice, “Badly done, Laura.”

  She started to deliver a sharp retort; then stopped when she saw the stark expression on his face.

  “Why are you like this?” she said. “Why do you care so much?”

  “I don’t,” he said coldly.

  “You do. You’ve always acted like you despise the idea of matrimony and commitment and children—all of it. But you don’t,” she said softly. “You care.”

  Gabriel pulled the Ferrari to an abrupt halt. He didn’t look at her. “We’re here.”

  Blinking in surprise, she saw they’d arrived at the enormous, exclusive Zeytuna boutique in the Leblon district. Her door opened, and she saw a young, smiling valet in a red jacket. Gabriel handed him keys, then held out his hand to her.

  “Come,” he said coldly. “We haven’t much time.”

  Reluctantly, Laura placed her hand in his, and felt the same shock of sensation, the brush of his warm skin and strong grip of his fingers around hers.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No,” she said.

  “You’re shivering.”

  She ripped her hand away. “I’m just afraid we will fail. That I will fail.”

  “You won’t.”

  She looked down at her tight black dress, seeing her big hips and oversize breasts and a belly that was far from flat. She thought again of competing against Adriana da Costa in a bikini, and shuddered. “I don’t see how.”

  Gabriel’s sensual lips curved up into a smile. “Trust me.”

  He folded her hand over his bare forearm as if she were a medieval French princess and he was her honored chevalier. He looked down at her with eyes of love, and even as she told herself that he was only practicing, this time the shiver was not in her body, but her heart.

  Pretending to love him was too easy. She was playing with fire.

  Just a few hours more, she told herself desperately. Then she’d never see him again. Her family would never need to worry about replacing parts on the tractor or losing their home after a bad harvest. They’d never need to panic when a glut on the market suddenly lowered prices of wheat to nothing. Her family would be safe. Her baby would be safe.

  Her baby.

  Laura swallowed. This was the first time she’d left Robby with a babysitter since he was born. It felt strange to be away from him. Strange, and dangerous to feel this young and free, with Gabriel beside her. He smiled down at her, and for an instant she was lost in his eyes, so dark and deep against his tanned skin.

  It would be so easy to love him when he treated her like this. Even after she went home, she knew she would always remember his low, husky voice saying, “I want you, Laura, more than any woman. I’ve always wanted you.” She would feel the heat of his body against hers when he’d seized her on the terrace and kissed her. She had new memories to add to the time they’d first made love, when he’d pushed her back against his desk, sweeping everything aside in his reckless, savage need. When their sweaty, naked bodies had clung together, their limbs intertwined in explosive passion.

  Now, Laura’s legs trembled as Gabriel drew her toward the two tall brass doors held wide by doormen.

  “Boa tarde, Senhor Santos,” the first doorman said, beaming.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Santos,” the second doorman said in accented English.

  Once they were inside the foyer, Laura looked up in amazement at a center courtyard two stories high, with a dome of colored Tiffany glass on the ceiling. But if the glamorous architecture was straight out of the nineteenth century, the boutique’s clothes were as cutting-edge as anything she’d find on Fifth Avenue.

  A bevy of pretty shopgirls rushed to wait upon Gabriel. “Allow me to help you, senhor!”

  “No, me!” a second one cried.

  “Senhor, I have something wonderful to show you!”

  Laura scowled. She could just imagine what the eager girls wanted to show Gabriel. Turning, she glared at him. “How often do you come here?”

  He snorted, hiding a grin. “Once or twice a month.”

  “Lingerie for all your one-night stands?”

  “Suits for work. I’m known to tip well.”

  Laura looked at the fawning shopgirls, who were all staring at him with undisguised glee. “I bet.”

  “Sorry, girls,” he said. “We already have an appointment.”

  “Mr. Santos,” an older woman said in English behind them. “Welcome.” She stepped forward with assurance, her red suit a perfect match to her short, sleekly coiffed gray hair. “I am ready to be of assistance.”

  “This is Mrs. Tavares,” Gabriel told Laura. His hand tightened around hers as he turned back to the other woman. “And this is the girl I told you about. Laura Parker.”

  “Certainly, sir.” Mrs. Tavares came closer. Gabriel stepped back, and Laura found herself standing alone, bereft of his strength, beneath the older woman’s scrutiny. She examined a long tendril of Laura’s mousy brown hair, then nodded. “Very fine material to work with, sir.”

  “Dress her for the beach.”

  “Which beach?”

  “A pool party at a luxurious mansion on the Costa do Sul. It will be attended by famous beauties and rich men. Make her shine above the rest.”

  Still staring at Laura, the older woman stroked her chin thoughtfully. “How obvious do you wish her beauty to be?”

  “Completely,” he said.

  “It will require help from a salon.”

  “As you wish.”

  The woman pulled the black-rimmed glasses off Laura’s face.

  “Hey!” Laura protested.

  “And an optometrist.”

  Gabriel smiled. “I leave her in your hands.”

  Laura’s cheeks were hot. The perfectly coiffed, elegant woman continued to walk around her, looking her up and down in the tight black dress, as if she were a handyman and Laura were a sad, decrepit old house in need of a complete remodel.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Laura said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I think you should go to the pool party without me. I’ll just go to the Fantasy Ball later.”

  “You go to the Fantasia tonight?” Mrs. Tavares gasped. “The Baile de Gala?”

  “Yes, and she needs a ball gown,” Gabriel said. “Casual clothes as well. But she must be ready for the party in two hours.”

  Mrs. Tavares froze. “So little time?”

  “Desculpa.”

  The woman tilted her head, considering Laura. “It will not be cheap. Or easy.”

  “Cost does not matter. Just results. Satisfy my requirements and you’ll be generously rewarded.”

  The older woman’s expression didn’t change, but Laura saw her sudden stillness. Looking at Gabriel, she gave a slow, respectful nod. “It will be done, senhor, as you wish.”

  “My driver will pick her up in two hours.”

 
With a clap of her hands, Mrs. Tavares turned and started barking out orders to the young shopgirls in Portuguese. With a second clap of her hands she scattered them.

  “Tchau,” Gabriel said to Laura, kissing her on both cheeks before he turned away.

  He was abandoning her to face the sharks alone? Laura gasped, “You can’t leave!”

  “Missing me already?”

  “Hardly!” she retorted witheringly, even as she looked around her nervously.

  “You’re in good hands,” Gabriel said. “Carlos will bring you to Oliveira’s mansion. I have business to attend to, unfortunately. But I’ll be waiting for you at the party.”

  “But what if…what if you’re disappointed? What if my makeover is a failure? What if—”

  Gabriel leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Have fun.”

  Fun? Laura glared at him, her heart in her throat. What kind of fun would it be to look like a fool, to be nearly naked in front of Rio’s notoriously body-conscious crowd, to be compared to Adriana da Costa in a bikini? She shook her head desperately and said for about the millionth time, “This isn’t going to work!”

  He gave her an annoyingly confident smile. “You’re going to love this.”

  “You will not be disappointed, Mr. Santos,” the older woman said, gently pulling Laura back into her clutches. Laura was suddenly aware that there were twenty salesgirls hovering around her, while all the other customers were being chased out of this expensive, exclusive store.

  The two-story luxury boutique had just closed—for her.

  “No,” she whispered, feeling scared that she would let Gabriel down. “You’re wrong about me. I’ll never be a beauty.”

  “You are the one who is wrong.” Gabriel’s eyebrows lowered fiercely as he looked down at her, his dark black eyes glittering. “Today, the whole world will see how beautiful you really are.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OLIVEIRA’S party was in full swing when Gabriel arrived.

  Security was tight for this event, one of the most coveted private parties of the Carnaval season. Not for tourists or international celebrities, this was for well-connected Cariocas, the richest local tycoons and their glamorous mistresses and wives.

  Gabriel was grimly sure he’d gotten this invitation only so that Felipe Oliveira could taunt him in public that he’d decided to sell Açoazul SA to someone else.

  And where was Laura? Gabriel cursed softly under his breath. He’d arrived ten minutes late, after an urgent phone call from London. He needed Laura here at once, so he could introduce her to Felipe Oliveira and try to undo the damage that Adriana had spitefully caused.

  Oliveira’s mansion was on the most beautiful stretch of the Costa do Sul to the north of Rio. The sprawling house was a white classical confection like a wedding cake, surrounded by multilevel terraces, with a large pool that overlooked a private beach. Oliveira had been a workaholic all his life, but now that he was in his mid-sixties, he’d apparently lost interest in business in favor of possessing—and pleasing—a woman half his age. It was the only reason he’d finally offered to sell the company back to Gabriel after almost twenty years.

  Gabriel stood on the upper terrace, looking down toward the pool where he instantly saw Oliveira, wearing baggy shorts and a button-down shirt. The man was deep in conversation with French tycoon Théo St. Raphaël, who was definitely not a local, and whose presence here could be for one reason only.

  Gabriel ground his teeth. The Frenchman wore a sleek gray suit. He alone among all the guests was not even pretending to dress for a pool party. Gabriel’s hands tightened on the railing. The aristocratic French bastard excelled at breaking companies up for parts. The two had tangled before, and Gabriel knew St. Raphaël would like nothing more than to steal Açoazul from under his nose. All the assets of his father’s company would be scattered around the world, coldly dissected for St. Raphaël’s profit.

  Gabriel narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t let that happen.

  But where was Laura?

  Scowling, he glanced at his watch. Carlos had texted that they were on the way. But Gabriel would have to start on his own. Grimly going down the stairs to the lower terrace, he started walking toward Oliveira and his French rival.

  “Gabriel,” he heard a woman’s voice coo behind him. Setting his jaw, he turned with a scowl.

  Adriana da Costa smiled up at him from a poolside cabana, where she was holding court in her tiny bikini. Five half-naked young men surrounded her, offering her food she would never eat in a million years. Gabriel saw one particularly hapless youngster trying to tempt her with a platter of bread and cheese. Bread and cheese? Adriana’s idea of a fattening meal was menthol cigarettes and a handful of raisins.

  Lounging in her chair, she lazily stretched her skinny arm up over her wide-brimmed straw hat as she looked up at him. In her other hand, she was holding a glass of something that looked like water but was likely vodka on the rocks.

  “What a lovely surprise,” Adriana drawled. Her eyes raked over Gabriel’s shorts and short-sleeved shirt, now open over his bare chest without the tank top. “I didn’t know Felipe invited you.” She smiled slyly. “I heard the two of you ran into some sort of…trouble.”

  Gabriel set his jaw. She knew perfectly well why he hadn’t been able to close the deal. Since Gabriel had ended their short tumultuous affair, Adriana had been determined to get his attention, and now she had it. She clearly wanted to either have him back in her bed, or wreak her revenge.

  How he despised her.

  Curving his lips into a smile, he walked past the young men clustered around her and stood at the bottom of her lounge chair, near her perfectly pedicured feet. “Does Oliveira know you are keeping such company?”

  “Oh, these?” She shrugged, indicating her admirers with a wave of her hand. “They are just my friends.”

  “You are an engaged woman. You should not have such friends.”

  “Go away, all of you,” she told them in English. Pouting slightly, she sat back in her chair. “It is easy for you to say. You pushed me into an engagement that I never wanted.”

  “I would never push anyone into marriage.”

  “Dropping me like you did, what did you expect me to do?” She sat up straight in her lounge chair, leaning forward to expose her cleavage to better advantage. “No man has ever left me before. You wouldn’t return my calls. I fell into the arms of the first rich man who proposed to me!”

  Gabriel set his jaw again. “And that is why you are trying to destroy my business deal with Oliveira?”

  She shrugged gleefully. “I just told Felipe the truth—that we were once lovers.”

  “You implied more than that,” he said. “You made him believe if I moved permanently to Rio, I would make it my mission to lure you into my bed.”

  Adriana looked up at him like a smug Persian cat, fluttering her long dark eyelashes. “Wouldn’t you?”

  He stared down at her, unable to believe her vanity. She’d been a pain in the ass as a mistress, possessive and jealous. But clearly, she still believed that he, like any man, must be lusting after her as a matter of course.

  He was tempted to correct that impression, but if he did, she might do some real damage and lie to her fiancé, tell him that Gabriel had made a pass at her. Clenching his hands with the effort it took to hide his dislike, Gabriel forced himself to say pleasantly, “I will always treasure our time together, but that time is over. I am with another woman now. In a committed relationship.”

  “Committed? You?” Adriana stared at him, her eyes wide and shocked. It was very satisfying. For several seconds all he could hear was samba music from the live band. Seagulls flew overhead, their cries mingling with those of the guests and laughter of the Cariocas lying out in the sun. She licked her lips. “That’s impossible,” she said faintly. “You will never settle down.”

  “And yet I have.”

  “Who is the woman?” she demanded. “Do I know her?”

  �
��My former secretary,” he said. “Laura Parker.”

  Adriana sucked in her breath. “I knew it,” she declared. Her eyes glittered. “I always knew there was something between you. Every time you ran to her in the middle of the night, every time you explained why she was the only woman who could possibly live in your flat, every time you swore your relationship was innocent, I knew you were lying!”

  “I wasn’t lying,” he said. “At the time, she was just my employee.”

  “She was always more than that!”

  “All right. We were friends,” he said tersely. “But never more. Not until last year, when—”

  “Spare me the details!” Adriana hissed.

  A wide shadow suddenly fell between them from the front of the cabana, blocking the sun’s reflection off the pool. “Is there a problem?”

  Gabriel turned to see Felipe Oliveira standing behind him. His shapeless shirt covered his large belly, and his eyes were hard as bullets in his jowly face. He must have seen Gabriel come down the terrace steps and apparently make a beeline for Adriana. Perfeito, Gabriel thought, irritated.

  “No problem.” He glanced at Adriana, who’d folded her arms to look away in sulky silence. “I was just telling your future bride that her love for you has inspired me to make a similar commitment. My secretary and I have had an on-off affair for the last year, and I’ve asked her to move in with me.”

  Silence fell, until Adriana cried, “Move in with you?”

  Oliveira stroked his double chin with shrewd watchfulness in his heavy-lidded gaze. “So you’ve decided to make a commitment to another woman. How romantic. How very…convenient.”

  The older man was no fool. Deliberately, Gabriel shrugged. “Laura is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  Adriana muttered a blasphemous curse. “I always knew the little mouse was in love with you.”

  In love? Gabriel frowned. Adriana was mistaken. Laura couldn’t love him. She was too smart for that. She knew his deep flaws far too well. Laura wouldn’t give her heart to an undeserving man who would break it.