She lay down in the bed, turning her face into the covers to try to stop the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. She had always known that her father was a dangerous man, but she’d naively believed herself out of the bounds of his cruelty. Hearing him threaten to use violence against her had been the catalyst she’d needed to begin her plan to escape.
Realising how she had been duped—how she had let herself be duped because she had craved love and attention from her father—had meant she no longer trusted her own judgement when it came to anyone. Especially not men who had a motive to use her for their own gains.
But she was no longer sure about her decision to leave Brazil and hide her son’s existence. She wasn’t sure about anything. She needed to be sure Duarte was telling the truth before she made herself—and her son—vulnerable.
She fell asleep with the memory of Duarte’s lips devouring hers and dreamed of him watching her from the shadows of the bedroom, his amber eyes filled with longing and unrest.
CHAPTER SIX
NORA AWOKE AFTER a few hours of restless sleep with her body still taut with anxiety from the night before. She contemplated a shower, but no sooner had she stood up from the bed and stretched than Liam began to wake and fuss for his morning feed.
She dressed in the first thing she pulled out of her case that wasn’t wrinkled—a simple coral sundress that was loose and flowing around her legs. She still hadn’t quite figured out how to dress for her new body shape, but there was a more pressing matter at hand: feeding the fussing infant who had begun to let out intermittent squeaks, demanding her attention.
Scraping her hair up into a messy bun, she set out for the kitchen. It had been too dark to see much the night before, so she didn’t know what to expect.
A long narrow corridor led from her bedroom to a sweeping mahogany staircase. She paused halfway down and looked up, transfixed by the breathtaking original stonework on the walls and ceilings. She could see where the historic features had been lovingly preserved, creating a perfect balance with modern touches.
The large living area had been extended at some point, with a clever stone pillar holding a modern glass fireplace acting as a transitional centrepiece that reached from floor to ceiling. She shook her head, hardly able to take in every wonderful detail at once.
From her vantage point at one of the full-length windows she could see that the rear of the house was surrounded by a stone terrace. Marble steps led down to an ornamental garden that looked perfectly maintained.
The property was cocooned by tall trees on either side, with just enough space at the front to see the South Atlantic Ocean spread out before them.
It was a home fit for a king—or at least some form of nobility—and sure enough, when the housekeeper, who introduced herself as Inés, spied her and showed her to the long galley kitchen, she was only too happy to give her a brief history lesson, outlining the passage of Casa Jardim from being the home of eighteenth-century Portuguese colonials to its present incarnation, housing three generations of the wealthy Avelar family.
Nora bit her lip, looking down at her infant son in her arms. This was what she was denying him. Not just wealth, but history and heritage.
But that life would mean nothing without safety. She couldn’t remember ever being carefree as a child. The shadow of her father and his power had always hung over her and her mother, even when they’d tried to live peacefully in Manaus.
On that long weekend when they’d first met, Duarte had told her of the dangers that came with being an Avelar. He was regularly subjected to threats and scrutiny, requiring security wherever he went. She didn’t want that for her son. He deserved to grow up free from fear, free from threat.
Steeling herself, she fed Liam and then settled him to kick his legs in his pram before tucking into the delicious spread of fresh fruit and pastries Inés had laid out on the open terrace.
The gentle clearing of a throat caught her attention, and she turned to find the subject of her dreams standing at the end of the stone steps, his body only partially covered by the white towel slung low on his hips.
Nora felt her mouth go dry and a groan of pure disbelief threatening to escape her throat. Of course he would be in a towel...
‘I hope you both slept well?’ he asked as he took a seat opposite her and sent a single fleeting look down to where the baby now slept in the shade.
‘He doesn’t sleep longer than a few hours yet,’ Nora answered truthfully. ‘The bed was very comfortable though.’
‘That must be difficult...losing so much sleep.’ Duarte frowned, thanking Inés as she brought him out a fresh cup of steaming hot coffee.
‘I have many tricks to make o menino sleep.’ Inés leaned down to coo at Liam, who had woken and begun to fuss and pull up his legs as if with discomfort. ‘May I hold him?’
Nora nodded and bit her lip as the dark-haired woman gathered the baby into her arms and expertly placed him over her arm. ‘I call this macaco em uma árvore. Monkey in a tree.’ She smiled and began to sway from side to side, as though dancing. Liam immediately let out a loud burp and relaxed onto her arm with a dreamy little gurgle.
Once Inés and the baby had moved slightly out of earshot, Nora looked up to see Duarte watching her intensely.
‘You are exhausted,’ he said.
‘I’m a new mother.’ She frowned, touching a hand to the hair she’d so carelessly thrown up earlier. ‘I don’t have time to hide my exhaustion under make-up and smiles just to look presentable for your comfort.’
‘Deus, I’m not criticising your appearance, Nora.’ He shook his head with a mixture of anger and surprise. ‘Things must have ended badly between us if you think me such a shallow, callous bastard.’
‘I don’t want to talk about that right now.’ She stiffened.
‘I know. You asked for some time and I will give you that.’ His eyes were sincere, his mouth a firm unyielding line. ‘But, for the record, I don’t think you need to try to look presentable. You have the kind of natural beauty that most women would kill for.’
He leaned back in his chair, showcasing the impressive deep brown expanse of his bare torso. Nora felt her gaze linger for longer than necessary, her eyes drinking in the smooth muscles that were so tautly defined in the morning sunlight. It had been so long since she’d felt the heat of his body on hers...
She bit her lip, turning to look out at the ocean in the distance.
‘I do have one small stipulation,’ he said gently, drawing her attention back to his amber gaze.
Nora felt trepidation shiver deep inside her at the predatory gleam she saw for a brief second before he disguised it.
‘For the duration of our stay here I wish for us to have dinner together.’ He steepled his hands over that magnificent stomach, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘Just good food and conversation—no tricks or forcing the issue of the past or the future.’
Nora narrowed her eyes at him, processing his words slowly and trying to figure out his angle. ‘What’s in it for you?’
Duarte fought the urge to smile at the obvious suspicion in her gaze. ‘Perhaps I just don’t like to eat alone,’ he said simply.
‘You are a terrible liar.’ She pressed her lips together, the faintest glimmer of a smile appearing on her lips before she stopped herself. ‘Let me guess—you plan to play the gracious host and wear me down until I agree to give you what you want?’
‘I don’t need to wear you down.’ He took another sip of his coffee. ‘I have faith that you are going to do the right thing, and I am determined to make sure you are kept safe.’
‘You don’t need to be nice to me,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘You are a busy man and I’m sure you have things to do back in Rio.’
‘Of course I do. But those things can be managed from afar. You cannot.’
‘You wish to manage me?’ She nar
rowed her eyes.
‘I wish to get to know you, Nora.’
He heard in his own words a bare honesty that shocked him. He saw her eyes shift away from him uncomfortably, her hands twisting the napkin in her lap as she watched Inés pace with the baby, singing softly.
‘Trust me—you don’t.’
Her words were barely audible but he caught them. He heard the weight of sadness and hopelessness woven through each syllable and was consumed by the urge to stand up and gather her into his arms. To figure out what on earth had happened between them that could put such a miserable look on her face.
‘Will you agree to my terms?’ he repeated, knowing she had every right to say no and knowing that he wouldn’t push the issue.
Inés walked back towards them and revealed the peacefully sleeping baby in her arms. Nora’s face lit up with surprise and gratitude as the older woman settled Liam into his pram.
Duarte peered down at the small bundle wrapped in blankets. The child had grown significantly in the month since leaving the hospital, and yet he was still tiny. He took in the boy’s dark colouring and once again thought of the man who had walked away from fatherhood. Anger coiled within him.
Inés’s voice penetrated his thoughts, asking Nora if she would like to take a moment to rest or freshen up and offering to sit with the baby in the fresh air of the upstairs balcony.
Nora hesitated, looking towards Duarte for a moment. ‘I don’t mean to leave you alone in the middle of your breakfast...’
Duarte assured her that he would be working all day and instructed Inés not to take no for an answer. No one should be expected to do everything for an infant without a little help.
She smiled, and the two women began to make their way back into the house. A few footsteps from the door Nora stopped and turned around to face him.
‘I’ll see you at dinner, then.’ Her voice was a little uncertain as she waited for him to nod before she disappeared through the doors.
Duarte tried not to roar at the small victory. He watched her walk away, his gaze lingering for far longer than was proper. He mentally shook himself and tucked into the spread of freshly cut papaya slices and warm bread rolls that had been filled with cheese and pan-fried.
This traditional dish of pão de queijo that Inés had prepared was one of his favourites, reminding him of long weekends and summers spent here as a child, when he and his sister would fight over the last piece while their father laughed and their mother scolded.
Every time he thought of his parents he wondered why his memory loss had not wiped away the grief he still felt from their death seven years ago. From the moment he’d set foot inside this, their special family vacation spot, he’d been instantly overcome with memories of when he was a child. Yet for some reason he had no memory of the past year of his life beyond blurred snatches here and there. It made no sense.
Shaking off the frustration, he opened his phone and dialled Angelus Fiero’s number for an update. Upon hearing that the two criminal henchmen had escaped and gone straight back to Novos Lideres and Cabo, he clenched his fists on the table.
‘Filho da mãe!’ he cursed, banging his fists hard against the wood.
He quickly recovered and forced himself to think logically. Those men would never have testified against him anyway; it was a part of the sick code of the Novos Lideres. Men quite literally pledged their life to their patrao—their boss. And Lionel Cabo got to sit at the top of the pecking order, watching them all fall like good soldiers.
He wasn’t prepared to tell Angelus any details about the woman staying under his protection. He simply said that he was working with a witness who was possibly willing to assist in their case. The older man’s voice brightened substantially, and he assured Duarte that witness testimony would be enough to get an arrest warrant at least, but they still needed solid evidence to make the charges stick.
The idea of finally putting Lionel Cabo behind bars for his crimes was immensely satisfying. But what would he do if Nora decided not to do the right thing? What if fear won out over that tiny spark of fury he’d seen in her eyes when he’d told her the depth of the mobster’s crimes?
Once she could leave, he wouldn’t be able to stop her.
In an ideal world, he’d simply offer her a large sum of money in return for information—but he had a feeling that bribery would only send her running faster. She had seemed uncomfortable with his purchases for her and the baby, continuously offering to repay him.
His father had taught him to follow his instincts in business and he’d honed that skill to a fine art, using it to his advantage in all areas of his life. He needed to stay, to get under her skin and find out what she was holding back and why.
Nora Beckett was proving to be quite a perplexing distraction, but if there was one thing Duarte Avelar relished above all else, it was a challenge.
Nora waited patiently for her distractingly handsome host to disappear back to his busy life, as he had done while they’d been in Rio, but he surprised her by staying put at the villa. Shockingly, he didn’t attempt to question her further about her revelations. Nor did he mention their kiss.
He spent most mornings doing laps of the pool at a punishing pace, while she tried to focus on tending to Liam, trying not to catch glimpses of his powerful body slicing through the water, or heading off bare-chested for a jog along the beach. The middle hours of the day were spent working, but she soon found that he was not the kind of man who holed himself up in an office all day in front of a screen. Instead, he took conference calls out on the terrace, as he paced back and forth like a lion in his den, issuing orders and asking questions in more languages than she could count.
He’d taken over the large dining table that overlooked the sea, filling it with complicated blueprints and large heavy books filled with technical information. Sometimes when she woke at night, to pad to the kitchen for milk for Liam, he would still be there, frowning as he fitted together odd-shaped plastic pieces and transferred calculations to technical-looking documents.
His yacht designs, she presumed, remembering how passionately he’d once spoken of his creative projects.
They had eaten dinner together for four nights in a row, and the conversation had been far from boring. He was a deeply intelligent, well-travelled man, and yet he didn’t try to make her feel inferior because she didn’t know about worldly things due to her sheltered life.
At their first dinner she had briefly mentioned she loved to swim, and the next day she’d found a brand-new powder-blue swimsuit in a package outside her bedroom door.
The next night Duarte had surprised her by showcasing his cooking skills, and had prepared a delicious platter of barbecued picanha, the meat so tender it had made her moan with delight. Afterwards, Inés had offered to rock Liam to sleep, and Nora had accepted Duarte’s offer of a short walk down to the beach.
As she’d stared out at the wide expanse of the ocean, spread out ahead of them, she had found herself confessing to him her dream of travelling, of seeing in real life all the amazing places in her architecture textbooks.
He’d seemed genuinely interested, and impressed that she’d completed a degree during such a turbulent time in her life, and he had frowned when she’d revealed that she’d had to abandon all her books back in Rio.
The next day there had been an entire shelf of thick hardbacks installed in the formal study at the back of the house, along with a note from him instructing her not to give up on her dream.
He somehow managed to make her feel on edge and completely at ease all at the same time.
On the sixth day after their arrival, she found herself sitting outside in the sunshine with Liam peacefully asleep in his pram by her side. When she felt a strange prickle on her neck she turned to see a familiar pair of golden eyes watching her. Quickly he turned away, going back to his work, as though chagrined at being ca
ught looking her way.
Nora bit her bottom lip, wondering if he felt the unbearable chemistry simmering between them just as much as she did.
That evening, Duarte passed a message through Inés that he had to leave for the city. Nora tried not to be hurt by his lack of a goodbye, reminding herself that she was a guest in his home and nothing more. But she had got used to their evenings together and felt silly for being disappointed.
The next morning she awoke, ready for the nurse’s daily check-up, and was shocked when the woman reminded her that it was the day of Liam’s six-week check-up.
She waited with bated breath until the nurse announced that her son had grown and developed at a typical rate over the past six weeks and congratulated her on a job well done.
Her own check-up was just as detailed, and ended with another smiling declaration that she had healed perfectly and the pre-eclampsia would have no lasting effects. She watched in silence as they were both officially declared fit for travel, and then gave the nurse a long hug as she bade the woman goodbye for the last time.
Duarte had kept his word and booked her flight, the details for which were printed out and safely stashed in the hidden compartment of her case.
There was nothing to stop her from leaving, she thought sombrely as she stood on the balcony and watched the helicopter recede into the clouds above. And yet she had already decided she would stay.
Her complicated feelings for her son’s father had clouded her mind, making it impossible for her to come to a decision about trusting him. But really she knew she had to tell him. Even if he had treated her terribly all those months ago and broken her heart, was that enough of a reason for her to deny him the right to see his own son?
Her body was on edge with tension as she tried over and over to think of the best way to tell him that he was a father. She hadn’t outright lied to him about Liam, she told herself as she worried at her lower lip. He had made assumptions which she hadn’t corrected, but she hadn’t directly fabricated the lie, had she?
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