Bad Blood Collection

by Various Authors

  Damn! Why was she suddenly so obsessed with sex?

  “Ready?” she quipped.

  “Whenever you are,” he said in that same rich tone that hummed along her senses.

  She moved to the door. If they didn’t get out of this quiet suite, they’d end up in each other’s arms. In bed. Locked in passion.

  Or battle?

  Yes, because she couldn’t keep her secret much longer. And she knew he’d be angry when he found out the truth.

  She didn’t want to fight with Rafael tonight. This was special to him. To them.

  “I hope the lines aren’t too long,” she said, focusing on what was to come instead of Rafael da Souza.

  “We’ll soon see.”

  He closed the door behind her and kept pace at her side, not touching her but so close his aura seemed to encircle her. Dwarf her. That was an odd comfort that she grasped on to.

  He’d always been her protector. Always had been the one person she could confide in.

  And yet she hadn’t been able to when it had mattered most!

  The fangs of guilt eating at her faded away as they stepped into the limelight. Even in his presence, she still felt like a rare bird in a cage, photographed and ogled endlessly. Being out among the masses was vastly different from a shoot where it was just her and the lens. When she was in control.

  She’d never liked this side of her career. This star worship that was as shallow and fake as the artificial minilights twinkling above them.

  Before they reached the elevators, she saw the people clustered in the lobby waiting. An old panic began bubbling inside her and she immediately slowed, her gaze searching for another means to avoid this crush.

  His hand came up to rest at the small of her back. “Take a breath, meu amor.”

  She did, then another longer, deeper one. “I don’t see anyone I know, at least not personally.”

  There was no shortage of celebrities waiting in their finery for the elevator. Though she was comfortable strutting her stuff in front of a camera, she hated competing one-on-one with her peers face-to-face!

  In her eyes, she always came up lacking. She was still the chubby girl whom her mother had taken in hand and had taught how to rid herself of weight. Who’d learned a dangerous lesson that had nearly taken her life.

  “This way,” Rafael said, herding her to the last elevator on the left where three men and an elegant woman waited.

  She didn’t know them, but it was clear by their welcoming expressions that they knew Rafael well. It was the first time that she could recall someone recognizing him before her and the feeling was startling. Almost freeing.

  “Good to see you, Rafael,” the older of the men said as he extended his hand. “The new phones look fantastic in the gift bags. Before the festival is over, everyone will be clambering for one of them.”

  Rafael smiled as he shook hands with the man. “I certainly hope so. Please, allow me to introduce my wife, Leila Santiago. Leila, this is the producer of Bastion 9.”

  Introductions were quickly made, and Leila discovered the woman was the producer’s wife. The other gentleman was the writer, having just won an award for his original script on a previous movie.

  “Our daughter is a true fan of yours,” the woman said, surprising Leila. “She dreams of being a model one day and you are the woman she’s determined to emulate.”

  “I wish her much success,” Leila said. And none of the heartache.

  She fervently hoped that the girl was blessed with a body that remained lithe. That she avoided the pitfalls that had nearly cost Leila her life. That if she did fail, she would be able to find help quickly at a place like her private clinic, where Leila had already given aide to countless other young girls.

  The elevator doors opened and they trooped into the waiting car. Before others could crowd in behind them, she saw Rafael punch the button to close the doors.

  She flashed him a grateful smile which he acknowledged with a nod and wink that did odd things to her insides and calmed her as none of her inner talks could. If only he could shut out the rest of the world so easily.

  “We have an exciting surprise lined up at the party,” the producer said. “You must make an effort to be there at the launch of it.”

  “Of course,” Rafael said before she could say a word. “We wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

  She would. She’d prefer a night alone with her husband. She wanted to unburden her soul. But it would have to wait.

  The elevator doors whooshed open and she pushed her way out, eager to get away from strangers. To catch a breath that wasn’t laced with the spicy scent that was uniquely Rafael’s.

  But she got no more than three steps before he was at her side. “Are you all right?”

  “You know I dislike small closed spaces,” she said.

  “As much as I despise the cameras that follow us around.” He huffed a breath, and she felt his annoyance vibrate through her in a liquid wave.

  Yes, this was her world. She’d gladly guide him through it—as long as he stayed close.

  “This red carpet we’re about to trod down en route to the Palais du Cinéma is hellish for me too,” she admitted.

  “You are serious?”

  “Very. It’s different when it’s just me and the camera. I’m in control then. But they—” she nodded at the throng ahead of them “—they are calling the shots now.”

  “Only if you let them, Leila.”

  He was right, of course. Still it served to remind her how to get through this crush.

  “Just smile. Pretend you see a dear friend just beyond the camera.”

  “Is that what you do?” he asked.

  “Sometimes.” But usually she looked for him in the crowd, even though she knew he’d not be there.

  He took a breath, then nodded and touched his fingers to her back again. “Let’s go, then. The sooner we get through this ordeal, the sooner we can find our seats at the cinema.”

  And then they’d face the endless swirl of afterpremiere parties, the first having already been decided by him. She didn’t mind, for one was just like the other. Privacy was a hard-won commodity here.

  When they’d reached their plush seats at the cinema, Leila allowed herself to relax. Celebrities, movie moguls and industry professionals all moved to their seats before the lights dimmed.

  Later, as the credits rolled, she was stunned at how much Rafael had invested in this film, and not just in the technical support he’d given. As the producer in the elevator had said, every complimentary bag held Rafael’s new mobile device. They were as much the talk of the evening as the movie itself with those in the audience activating their phones now.

  “I didn’t realize they were all operational,” she said.

  He gave a careless shrug. “I simply provided a month’s complimentary service.”

  The cost of such a move stunned her, for though she knew he’d achieved great wealth in the past year, she’d never dreamed he could afford such extravagance! Did she really know this man next to her at all?

  The yacht had been decorated to mimic the set of the movie, a futuristic panorama right down to the uniforms of the waitstaff. The food was lavish. The drinks plentiful.

  Stars glittered in an indigo sky and on the decks of the yacht as well. Leila had adored the nightlife in the early days of their marriage, and would party until dawn with Rafael. But the past few years her enjoyment of the jet-set gaiety had waned.

  Even now the best French champagne tasted bitter to her. And the man she’d married seemed a powerful stranger.

  He commanded attention. People knew his name. Influential people in all walks of life.

  Gone was the carefree young designer who’d created some technological wonder at a time that everyone clambered for something new and groundbreaking. He was a star in his world just as she was in hers.

  Only she’d been a comeback queen. It had been grueling to step back in front of the camera after her recovery and
she’d been determined to succeed.

  Rafael had been her savior then. He’d taken her away from the madness and the pressures of the modeling world. He’d become the barrier that her controlling mother could never break down.

  He’d let Leila make her own decisions regarding her career and she had become strong. She owed him everything—including the truth that burned in her soul.

  “Rafael da Souza is without a doubt the most handsome man here,” a ravishing starlet said, a champagne flute dangling from her jeweled fingers and lust glittering in her blue eyes that were fixed on him.

  “I agree,” Leila managed to say in a controlled tone, her Brazilian blood bitten with jealousy that this young woman would openly flaunt her desire for Rafael in front of her! “But then, I’ve always thought he was the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

  “You know him?” she asked, looking at Leila then.

  Leila forced a smile, knowing the second when the actress recognized her. “I’m his wife.”

  And after delivering that statement, Leila walked straight toward her husband. She lifted a flute of champagne off a tray as Rafael turned to talk to a beautiful woman who’d just approached him.

  A woman whom he seemed glad to see!

  Leila downed the fine wine so fast that her head took a dizzying spin. She refused to rationalize that women threw themselves at Rafael often, for his finely chiseled features and intense dark eyes were too magnetic for any woman to resist, including herself. But he was her husband!

  Her sting of jealousy was warranted. Wasn’t it?

  She wouldn’t sit on the sidelines tonight and watch others flirt with him! God forbid if he welcomed their attention, as he seemed to be doing now with this green-eyed beauty at his side.

  “There you are,” Leila said in an affected purr as she slipped her arms around his muscled one, bringing his startled gaze snapping to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

  His brows slammed together, then smoothed one trebling pulse later. “Have you now?”

  “I thought perhaps you’d give me a tour of the yacht.”

  “Later,” he said, and flicked an apologetic look at the other woman.

  Before Leila could protest, the woman who’d garnered Rafael’s attention spoke directly to her. “I’ve admired your work for years. You make modeling look effortless when I know it is very hard work.”

  Again she trotted forth her patent smile when she felt anything but pleasant. Her head was still in the clouds from drinking two glasses of champagne on a nearly empty stomach.

  “Are you a model?” Leila asked the woman who was as tall as she, enviably lithe and naturally beautiful with a crown of soft brown curls and arresting jade-green eyes.

  “Katie is a costume designer,” came a deep voice behind her, a voice laced with a distinct English accent. “An excellent one, I may add.”

  Leila whipped around and stared up at the intruder. The bottom fell out of her queasy stomach as a pair of royal-blue eyes locked on hers.

  “Nathaniel,” Leila said, noting that the film star was as tall and broad shouldered as Rafael. That their family resemblance was further established with features that were just as finely chiseled.

  The look of love Nathaniel and Katie exchanged caught her by surprise. The celebrated star wasn’t acting now. This was genuine affection.

  “Katie and I were sorry you couldn’t make the wedding,” Nathaniel said, moving to his wife now and slipping an arm around her shoulders.

  “As was I,” she replied, her apologetic smile flicking from him to Rafael.

  The accusatory glint in her husband’s intense eyes scorched through her. He didn’t add that she would have known who Katie was if she had accompanied him to his brother’s wedding. He didn’t have to, for his eyes said it all.

  The yacht took a sudden dip and her stomach heaved along with it. Terrified she’d become ill in front of the world, she muttered an apology and fled toward the lower deck and the toilets.

  She kept the contents of her queasy stomach, only to find that Rafael had stayed on her heels and was waiting for her to exit.

  “Are you ill?” he asked.

  She shook her head, for how did one explain one was sick at heart?

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “I drank too much champagne on an empty stomach. The movement of the boat made me woozy. Being on the water always does that.”

  His brow narrowed, as if considering her words. “That is a convenient answer.”

  “It’s the truth. I find these parties cloying,” she said. “Maybe I’ve just been on too hectic of a schedule of late to appreciate the party crowd, but right now I’d kill for some quiet time where I could just relax.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Then let’s leave.”

  She pressed a hand against the muscled wall of his chest and shivered at the heat and power beneath her palm. “Stay and enjoy your party.”

  He closed his hand over hers, but his dark gaze gave nothing away of what he felt. “I wouldn’t dream of it. If we part company on the first night, the paparazzi will have a field day with speculation.”

  All for show.

  Nobody understood the need for publicity stunts more than she. She’d lend Rafael her support, and he’d do the same for her at the premier of Bare Souls. She never doubted he’d be there for her.

  But would he once he’d learned what she’d kept from him?

  “Besides,” he continued, “I’ve thought of nothing except getting you alone.”

  “Very well,” she said. “Get me out of here.”

  Rafael kept his thoughts secreted on the short boat ride from the yacht to the dock. He’d said nothing when the boat had picked up speed and Leila had taken his hand in a death grip.

  The tremors rocketing through her told him everything he needed to know then. She wasn’t fine by any stretch of the imagination. She was putting on a brave front, and if there was one thing he understood, it was how to stand tall in the face of adversity.

  His troubled childhood had taught him that bitter lesson!

  That’s when he’d buried his own pain of being William Wolfe’s unwanted bastard into learning the intricacies of computers, discovering what made them work, and what to do to make them work better.

  He suspected Leila did the same with her modeling. That was her escape, or perhaps her triumph and celebration, over her bout with anorexia.

  His gaze lifted to La Croisette and the cluster of fans, paparazzi and celebrities moving about. The tents crowding the beach were the same, though the lights were more subdued. More intimate.

  At one time they’d have enjoyed the nightlife. Now he selfishly wanted Leila to himself. The question remained if she was still eager to be alone with him.

  “Would you like to take in the sights before turning in?” he asked, stopping well before the flood of lights spilling from the Palais du Cinéma.

  She looked at the active scene they’d soon walk into and shivered. “No. I’ve no interest in becoming one of the hundreds in the nightclubs.”

  He released a sigh of relief. “What about the secluded beach? Just us walking, like we used to do.”

  Music danced on the balmy night air, but he felt the shift in her mood from tense to relieved.

  “I’d enjoy that, as long as it takes me away from the spotlight.”

  He couldn’t agree more, and was relieved she felt the same. There was a change in Leila that he’d never seen before, and wasn’t quite sure how to deal with. But part of her seemed closed off even to him. Distant. What had happened this past year while they had been embroiled in their careers to put those shadows in her vibrant eyes?

  Rafael certainly intended to find out once they were alone. He eased them past the barriers that served to keep the onlookers out and took a trail that wound to a secluded stretch of sand. It wasn’t wide and it wasn’t pretty, but it was quiet.

  “I applaud you for avoiding the paparazzi and the guards,” she said, pausing to slip off her hee
ls before they started down the warm sandy coast.

  “I was lucky.” Just like he’d been all the times he’d sneaked into Wolfe Manor so he could play with his half brothers and sister, defying his father’s edict.

  He shook off those old painful memories and held on to the good ones. He’d made a solid connection with his siblings over the years, though he didn’t keep in touch with all of them. But then his family had remained fractured, with each of his half siblings emotionally or physically scarred by their father.

  Rafael had worried that he would not be able to love another person up until the day he’d met Leila. Even during that first year of marriage he’d wondered if what he felt was real. If he’d awaken to discover it had all been a dream.

  He glanced down at Leila now, whose features seemed suddenly lighter, freer. He surrendered to his own smile, for there was something about defying the norm that made his own adrenaline surge.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, twining his fingers with hers as they struck off down the beach.

  “Much. The air is so refreshing.”

  He made a sound of agreement, though every breath he took drew her sweet scent deeper into his soul. The tension of being the object of so much attention began easing, yet he sensed Leila hadn’t let go of it yet.

  “I’ve missed this,” she said at last.

  “The beach?”

  “The peace and quiet with you.” The exact opposite of her lifestyle. Right now at this moment their separate worlds were miles apart. But if they didn’t put a stop to this madness they’d lived with for a year, their marriage would surely suffer. Perhaps it already had.

  “Why push yourself so hard in your career now?”

  “If I don’t fight to stay on top of it I could end up on the fringe of this business outside of a year.”

  Rafael suddenly felt tension seep into his bones. Surely this would happen anyway once they started the family they’d agreed on? Or had that changed?

  “It sounds as if you intend to keep working.”

  “I do,” she said without hesitating. Was she serious?

  He wanted a wife and the family he’d long to have. A home. A normal family that he’d always been denied.

  He wanted Leila back in his life now, not off somewhere on a shoot dragging their children along. Leaving him behind. Lonely. Forgotten. Rejected.