As if sensing her turmoil, Inés insisted she take an hour for herself to unwind in the pool. The older woman refused to take no for an answer, so Nora changed into the powder-blue swimsuit, covered her pale skin with sun lotion and spent a delightful half-hour wading from one side of the huge pool to the other, floating on her back and staring up at the cloudless sky.
Taking a moment to lie back on a sun lounger and dry off, she found herself able to take in the details of her surroundings. She was awed by the solitude of this cliffside villa. The nearest neighbour was a five-minute drive away, leaving no man-made sound to disturb her peace, only the wind in the trees and distant rush of the waves on the rocks below.
Inés had been right; she’d needed some time to reconnect with herself. She had almost forgotten she could function outside of the tiny bubble of motherhood.
When she got back to her room she found Inés had already fed Liam and put him down to sleep. Her son was starting to slumber for longer stretches at night now, and it was all down to Inés’s magic touch. In the absence of her own mother, Nora felt enormously grateful to have such a caring maternal influence. And Inés had developed quite a bond with her son too—although she often threw strange glances Nora’s way and commented that the boy could almost pass for an Avelar, with his defined dimple and dark skin.
Nora only blushed and looked away.
The older woman told her that dinner would be at seven and gave her a stern look, instructing her not to be late. It was already getting dark outside, so she forced her tired body to shower and dress in a simple emerald-green shift dress and flat sandals, not wanting to be rude if Inés had prepared a meal.
Putting the baby monitor into the pocket of her dress, she padded downstairs.
In the short time she’d been gone the net of lights above the terrace had been switched on, and underneath was a small dining table, neatly set up for two. In the distance she could see two bodyguards, doing their nightly sweep of the property. She frowned. If there were two bodyguards, that meant Duarte had returned.
‘Welcome, senhorita.’ A slim waiter appeared, motioning for her to take a seat.
‘I don’t think this is for me...’
She looked around, half expecting a parade of wealthy socialites to come marching through the house. Instead, she saw Duarte emerge from the dining room, striding towards her as if he’d just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. He wore a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. His short crop of hair was still damp and glistened in the twinkling lights, as did his eyes as he pinned her with an intense gaze.
‘I decided I needed to make up for missing last night.’ He smirked.
‘You’ve done all this for me?’ She frowned, a knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach as she looked around, seeing a man in full chef’s uniform hard at work in the kitchen.
‘Not exactly.’ Duarte let out a low hum of laughter. ‘Chef Nico and his team have applied for the catering contract on the new superyacht I’m designing. I’m seeing if he lives up to the hype.’
‘Oh.’ She felt her arms relax slightly with relief. The name sounded vaguely familiar—she thought he was a minor Brazilian celebrity. ‘They’re cooking for you as an audition, then?’
‘They are cooking for us.’ He raised a brow. ‘You need to eat, no?’
‘Well, yes, but...’
‘Inés made me promise to feed you. Besides, I found I rather missed your company last night,’ he said softly, guiding her over to a chair. ‘Do with that what you will.’
Her eyes widened at his admission and Duarte had to fight himself to look away, to ignore how his heartbeat sped up in his chest and pay attention to the dishes that began arriving in front of him for his judgement.
It turned out that Chef Nico’s hype was more than justified. By the time the last of the dishes had been cleared away he had already decided to hire the man.
Nora glanced down at the slim monitor in her pocket every so often, but otherwise seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, and kept up with his deliberately light tales of the day of manual work he’d completed at one of the Avelar Foundation’s newest housing projects. He’d spackled walls and lifted furniture up and down steps all day, thanking his good luck that his body was strong despite his injuries.
It dawned on him that he hadn’t had a headache in weeks, and that his mood had become more balanced and predictable—almost like his old self.
They took a small break before dessert, and Nora slipped up to her room to check on her son. When she returned, Duarte suggested they take their drinks to the viewing deck and allow the serving staff to clear away the dishes.
She walked ahead of him, the gentle sway of her hips a naturally sensual sight. He shook off his errant thoughts, realising that while he should be planning his approach to secure her agreement to be a witness against Lionel Cabo, all he could think about was kissing her again.
‘I love the view from up here. I can’t remember the last time I left the city.’ She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink.
‘You said you didn’t always live in Rio...?’ Duarte said, keeping his gaze straight ahead. Still, he couldn’t miss the way she visibly stiffened by his side, then forced herself to relax.
‘Not always, no. My mother and I moved around a bit.’
‘You said she’s Irish?’
Nora nodded her head, her fingers twirling around the stem of her glass for a moment.
‘Ireland’s a beautiful place to live,’ Duarte said. ‘She moved all the way across the world for her work?’
‘Something like that.’ Nora cleared her throat. ‘You know what that’s like, though, I suppose?’
He nodded. ‘We moved to England when I was just a boy and I started boarding school not long after. My parents wished for me to be a great scholar.’ He laughed, seeing the ice in her gaze shift a little, and congratulated himself on his efforts.
‘I wouldn’t say their efforts were wasted, considering your success.’
He shrugged, tugging at his collar, which suddenly felt too constricting. He disliked it when others commented on his success—an old habit after the years of torment that had come with being the smartest kid in class. He always tried to be modest, to downplay the ease with which he seemed to accomplish certain tasks.
She seemed to sense his shift in mood and changed the topic to the yacht she’d seen him working on, asking if he was enjoying his work. To his own surprise he answered honestly—perhaps too honestly. He told her of the large-scale launch for their US operation, and the pressures his sister and his business partner had been under with Duarte’s sudden reappearance and subsequent return to the company.
He didn’t go into the guilt he felt about the pain his twin had endured when she’d thought him dead, or how his best friend had blamed himself for the events leading to their kidnapping.
‘It sounds like you’re feeling the need to prove yourself and your health by going above and beyond all your previous achievements,’ she said quietly, turning to look up at him.
Duarte paused and smiled, shaking his head and sitting back in his chair to survey her.
‘Did I say something wrong?’ She frowned.
‘It’s more what you didn’t say.’ He raised one brow. ‘I could have sworn I set out to learn more about you, and somehow I end up talking non-stop about myself for ten minutes.’
She moved to take a step away from him, and to his own surprise he found himself circling his hand gently around her wrist. Her eyes widened with surprise, but she made no move to pull away.
‘You said you’ve missed my company...but you don’t know me. Not really,’ she said softly, barely audible above the rush of the breeze and the waves around them. ‘If you knew all the things that had passed between us...’
He watched as she swallowed hard and moved further away from him. If she was hiding
things from him, it was likely she had her reasons. But still, looking down at the small handful of steps that separated them, he found he didn’t care about the circumstances. He looked at her and he wanted her as he had never wanted another woman. And if she were to give him the barest hint that she wanted him too he knew all bets would be off. He’d have them both naked and in his bed before they could take another breath, gourmet chef and their dessert be damned.
As if she sensed the intensity of his thoughts, she took a deep breath that seemed to shudder a little on the exhale. ‘When you look at me like that I can’t think straight.’ She shook her head softly. ‘Liam turned six weeks old today. The nurse declared us both fit for travel.’
Duarte froze, the news hitting him like a bucket of ice water. He leaned against the handrail, looking out at the ocean. ‘Have you made your decision?’ he asked.
She closed her eyes, as if some unknown emotion was threatening her composure. It dawned on him that he’d never seen her so undone, so close to tears. She was always so strong.
‘Hey...hey...’ He wrapped an arm around her. ‘Look, I understand that you’re afraid.’
‘I’m not afraid of being your witness, Duarte.’ She pulled away from him. ‘But I can’t tell you about what happened that night without revealing my part in all of it. Without revealing that I’m part of the reason you were there in the first place.’
She reached one hand into her pocket and pulled out a slim black thumb drive, placing it into his hand. ‘This contains everything. It’s encrypted with some kind of code, but I know it’s more than enough to blow Novos Lideres apart for good.’
Duarte felt shock pulse through him as he absorbed her words. ‘Explain.’
Her words were dull and emotionless. ‘The reason Cabo’s men were looking for me is because I was a part of his organisation. I... I worked for him for a while.’
She looked away from him, her lips pressing together in that tell-tale way he could now recognise.
‘I was initially tasked with getting information from you that they could use to force you to sign over your land.’
She went quiet again for a moment, her eyes flickering between him and the horizon in the distance.
‘But it all went wrong.’
‘Clearly.’
He frowned, shocked and horrified at her words, and stared down at the black rectangle that supposedly held all the things he’d been working to find. Could it be true?
‘I was already trying to get away by the time you were kidnapped. They held me captive in a different location, to ensure that I didn’t go to the police. I got free and I got word to your friend, Angelus Fiero, but by the time I got to where they had you...you had already been shot.’
‘Why save me?’ he asked, watching her reaction closely. ‘Why risk being arrested yourself or punished for your actions?’
‘I may have done things I’m not proud of, Duarte, but I’m still human.’ She shook her head. ‘There was so much blood... But I couldn’t risk being seen. I had to leave you there. The next thing I heard was your death announced on the news. And then your poor friend was found alive. I didn’t even know he was still in there...’
‘He suffered greatly but he is okay now. Physically at least.’
Duarte was silent for a long time, his mind working double-time to process the new information. He’d known she was hiding something, but this was unbelievable.
‘Look, I’ll get my things packed first thing in the morning and I’ll be gone, okay?’ She moved towards the door. ‘I just want you to know that I am sorry for the part I played. I never meant for any of that to happen.’
‘You saved my life. You risked your own life to save me,’ he said softly. ‘Did you love me, Nora?’
She shook her head, anger in her eyes. ‘Don’t make me out to be something I’m not. I’m not the worst of them, but I was still one of them. I still conspired to hurt you. To hurt other people through you.’
‘Did you love me?’
He asked the question again, more harshly this time, and watched as her eyes drifted closed. She was consumed with guilt—that much was clear. And he should be furious at her deceit. So why did he have the urge to offer her comfort instead?
He closed the space between them, forcing her chin up so she met his eyes. Twin stormy grey pools of torment reached out to him and pierced him somewhere in the region of his heart.
‘Yes...’ she whispered, a choked sob escaping her lips. ‘Despite everything, I loved you...so much.’
Duarte claimed her lips, swallowing her sadness and her guilt and wishing he could take the burden from her. She had been in a purgatory of her own making for months, believing him dead and believing she had been responsible.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders, pushing slightly, and Duarte froze, fully prepared to stop. He was not the kind of man who needed to force a woman to get his way, no matter how strongly his body had reacted to her touch. But before he could pull back she seemed to make a decision of her own, moving up on her toes and pressing her soft, full lips against his.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE HAD KNOWN it would come to this from the moment she’d taken a seat across from him at dinner and looked into his warm, whisky-coloured eyes. It was too much—having him this way but not having him at all. If there had ever been a more perfect torture, she’d like to see it. This man who had stolen her heart and then broken it into a million pieces...he was everything she remembered and more.
His strong muscular arms locked her in place as their mouths moulded together like twin suns re-joined. He was a skilled kisser, and the heat of his mouth on hers was sending delicious shivers down her spine. Nora felt her body sing out the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ even as her mind screamed at her to stop. To think of the consequences of her actions.
She was sick of thinking.
She felt brazen and rebellious as she moved her body even closer into the cocoon of his arms, letting her tongue move against his in the sensuous rhythm he had once taught her on a darkened beach.
If she kept her eyes closed she could almost imagine that this moment was entwined with that one. That their lives had never been torn apart by the awful events in between. No. She couldn’t think of that. It was just him and her and this glorious fire they created between them when they touched.
‘I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for this, but I’m not apologising,’ he whispered, his head dipping to kiss a path along her neck.
She gasped as his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin below her ear. His hands slid down her back to cup her behind, holding her against him. She could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric of her dress. It would be so easy to lift the fabric and feel him properly...
A long-ago memory of him lifting her legs around his hips and taking her in a public elevator rose to her mind unbidden, heightening her arousal. She had always been like this with him—like a moth to a flame. She’d never reacted at all to any of the men her father had allowed her to date...
The single errant thought of her father was enough for her to get a hold on her rapidly deteriorating rational mind and detangle herself from Duarte, moving a single step away.
‘Why do you want me, Duarte?’ she asked. ‘Even after the things I’ve revealed, you still kiss me like that and it ties me up in knots.’
He shoved a hand through the short crop of his hair, golden eyes seeming luminous against his dark skin. ‘I’ve tried to ignore my attraction to you, because you have made it more than clear that whatever we had before is over. But every time we’re together I’m more drawn to you. You’re intelligent, and beautiful, and I find myself thinking of you far more often than I should probably admit. I think you still want me too.’
Nora felt heat and desire prickle across her skin at his words. She didn’t know what to say to that.
One half of her was crying out to kiss him again and throw caution to the wind—to take one selfish night of pleasure and deal with the consequences of her lies of omission tomorrow. The other half told her she needed to tell him everything, not just a half-truth. She was stalling and drip-feeding him all the terrible things in the hope that she might somehow manage to keep him. That they might make it through all her painful revelations with this fragile new beginning still intact.
The idea of tipping him over the edge into the kind of hatred she’d seen on his face once before was more than she could bear.
She closed her eyes, hardly believing the selfishness of her own thoughts. This wasn’t just about her. Liam deserved to have his father in his life; he deserved the chance to know him. She had to tell him. She had to rip the sticking plaster off.
She opened her mouth to speak, but a small cry came from the monitor in her pocket. She looked at the screen, then up to Duarte.
‘Go,’ he said simply.
The cry sounded out again—faint, but enough to tell her she needed to go. It was a divine intervention, of sorts, saving her from her own uncontrollable libido. Stupid, stupid girl.
‘Nora.’
She turned around and saw he was still standing where she’d left him. The night sky formed an impressive backdrop, making him look even more otherworldly than he already did.
‘I have to leave again shortly for the city.’ He cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his shirt, looking up at her. ‘Have dinner with me again tomorrow?’
She swallowed hard at the knowledge that she had a twenty-four-hour reprieve. She would figure out how to tell him about Liam. She had to. Nodding and throwing him a tight smile, she practically ran the rest of the way up to her room, her heart hammering in her chest.
Duarte stepped inside the entrance hall of the house and was struck by the utter silence. He’d spent the morning with Angelus, and they’d agreed to send the thumb drive for immediate decoding, finding a source they trusted so the information wouldn’t be lost. The rest of his day in Rio had been spent in meetings with the future tenants of his new developments, figuring out what they needed and ensuring he was offering the best fresh start possible for them.
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