She blinked. “You’re armed?”
He slid it inside his pocket. “I’m not taking any chances.”
The air was suddenly in short supply. Leonardo glared at her, and she wondered if he was challenging her to change her mind. She stared back, ignoring the other guys in the room.
The Beethoven ringtone made her follow its sound and look at the cell phone sitting in the middle of the desk. Sucking in a breath, she didn’t wait for anybody’s command. She grabbed it and accepted the call. “Hello.”
“The Fashion Mall, in thirty minutes,” Harry said, his voice clipped.
She recognized the name of the upscale mall. Why did he want such a public place? Was he scared that they’d ambush him? “I’ll be there.”
“Alone,” he demanded, his tone cold.
“Count on it,” she said without hesitation.
“Good. I requested a taxi driver to pick you up. Go to the front of the house in five minutes.”
She clenched the phone and avoided looking at Leonardo. She could feel his gaze on her, but if she strayed him a glance, she’d falter. And that she couldn’t afford. “And be at your mercy? No.”
“You’re not going with Leonardo, if you want Addie to live. And what’s the difference between using a taxi service I called versus doing the same? You certainly don’t want to drive in Rio.”
“Okay. I’ll take the cab.”
She hung up, and noticed the tips of her fingers trembling. She had to count on some detouring, hadn’t she? “I need to go in the car he’s sending. He said Fashion Mall, but knowing Harry…” She sighed.
“He’ll probably take you somewhere else,” Leonardo said, and to her surprise, didn’t criticize her agreeing with Harry sending out a taxi. He was in full operational mode, eyes focused and shoulders squared. “Okay. You two go on a different car. I’ll take another. We can’t lose sight of that taxi, do you understand?” he said, throwing one set of keys to one of the bodyguards.
He caught it and palmed it. “Yes, sir.”
“We’d better get going, senhor, to leave as quickly as possible,” the taller one agreed.
Leonardo lifted his brow, and peered at her. Her throat contracted for a second, then pulsed wildly. The hustle and bustle around them came to a temporary halt, and as he gave her a slow nod, a fire brewed in her belly. Her pulse fluttered. Would everything be okay? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped so—the flicker in his eyes helped her realize it.
“Let’s do it, Satyanna,” he said.
Within less than a few minutes, she was sliding inside a seemingly ordinary taxi. The windows were lowered, even though the heat slicked her skin with sweat. She’d notice many drivers only turned on the AC by customer’s request.
Clenching the cell phone in her hands, she looked ahead.
“Fashion Mall,” she ordered, and the man nodded, adjusting his glasses. Was he Harry’s goon? She looked at the console and found his driver’s license with his registration to drive a cab. Seemed legit.
The voice of the dispatcher sounded, and she tried to understand what the lady was saying, her voice muffled by ecstatic.
“Change in plans?” she asked the driver.
“The dispatcher just informed me. She gave me the address,” the man said.
“What is it?”
“I’m not allowed to say,” the man said, and tossed her a glance over his shoulder. He flaunted a golden tooth, and had more hair squeezing between the buttons of his colorful shirt than on his head. Legit, my ass. He was working for Harry.
For the next forty minutes, she exercised her self-control not to glance over her shoulder. Her gaze strayed a couple times to make sure the cars were still within a safe distance. But she knew if she attempted to call Leonardo or signal they had changed their route, all would be lost. The taxi driver would know for sure they were being followed, and he’d tell Harry, who could call the whole thing off.
As the traffic worsened and the cars funneled into the main streets in Ipanema Beach, her forehead slicked with sweat—both from the outside temperature and her trying nerves.
When the taxi turned into narrow streets away from the beach, and tall buildings reached for the sky, she chewed on her lower lip. Where were they going? If Harry wanted to try and whisk her away, why did it seem like the farther they drove, the more people they saw? Pedestrians crossing the streets, vendors on the corners, and ladies walking their dogs on the sidewalks.
She palmed the cell phone like it was a weapon. When the vehicle idled on the corner of a busy street, she stuck her head out of the car and recognized the famous Feira Hippie, a popular flea market on a spacious plaza.
The phone vibrated in her hand, and she lifted it to her ear. “Get out of the car,” Harry said. In tandem with his phone call, the cab driver parked the car and opened the door for her to come out.
“What now?”
“Keep walking. Go inside. Look for a tent with red parrots on the far left,” he said before disconnecting.
Insecure, she glanced around her. Tourists and locals swarmed into the maze of tents, booths with vendors offering all kinds of crafty souvenirs and handmade gifts. The scents of leather, burning incense, and sweat blended in the air.
She scanned the crowd, searching for Harry. If she weren’t so freaking nervous, and with a pressing task, she would have appreciated the unique collection of jewelry, artifacts, and even paintings. Sweat slid from the back of her neck down her spine. She rubbed her forehead.
She walked ahead, looking for the damn red parrots. Until someone called her from behind.
“Well, well…” said the British voice behind her, and she didn’t have to turn around to recognize it. The cat-and-mouse game had finally come to an end. And another one was about to begin.
…
“Pulseira de couro?” A woman with dreadlocks offered him, waving a brown leather bracelet in his face. “It’s good stuff.”
“No,” he said, squinting against the sun shining down at him. He’d lost the car with security guards on the way; the sedan had been squeezed between two trucks then lost sight of them. He had continued on in his car, keeping an eye on the taxi like his life depended on it. Because it did.
Ever since the previous night after he’d talked to his brother, words had rung in his ears. Sleeping became an impossible task, and he’d used every ounce of self-control not to storm into her room and kiss her. Talk to her. Pour out the emotions forming a hot knot in his throat. He loved her.
He couldn’t have picked a worse time to realize it, but if he had told her this morning before she took off in the cab, they would both be riled up. He knew he would. To show her he respected her and trusted the way she wanted to handle it, he’d chosen not to talk about love. When this mess was over, he’d snatch her into his arms and they would start a life together, continue the bond pulling them toward each other, and not waste time musing over the past.
He rushed through the market, bumping into people. Even though he was taller than most of the crowd, with objects dangling from makeshift booths and several different stations offering fabrics and dresses, it was hard to focus on one thing. All he wanted was to find her, and a woman with her remarkably red hair should stand out.
His heart beat faster. Not choosing her wasn’t an option. He had lost her before after a wild weekend of sex. If he lost her now, after having spent time with her, enjoying her company, and really getting to know the fantastic, generous, beautiful soul she was…that would be his undoing.
He caught a glimpse of red and quickened his pace. He could call the police, but by the time they arrived it would be too late. No. This was his fight. His family to protect.
With every step he took toward Satyanna, a different part of him adjusted to the building tension and stiffened. His pulse hammered. His gaze darted to the area around her, and he found him. A man almost as tall as he, wearing a white wide-brimmed hat and matching linen shirt and pants. If one didn’t know how evil he could be
, they would have deemed him a typical tourist visiting Rio for a week of fun.
Leonardo wasn’t open for negotiation. He slid his hand into his pocket and clutched the semi-automatic pistol. The black gun felt cold against his palm. Hard, merciless even, but not heavy.
“Harry Clemonte, don’t move,” he said out loud, pointing the gun at his head.
Satyanna gasped, and when her eyes found his, they widened. “Leonardo,” she said, and he wasn’t sure it was good or bad. Did he interrupt something? They should have had enough time to talk. Besides, wasn’t that the idea? To capture Harry?
Harry lifted both hands in the air in surrender and turned around to see him. Leonardo didn’t lower his gun, and the people around them swooshed, moving away while whispering, “Armed man. Get out of the way.” A few objects fell to the floor, and the sales people hurried to grab knickknacks and jewelry from their booths.
Leonardo had instructed his security to call the sheriff; if all went as planned, within a few minutes Harry Clemonte would be arrested and go behind bars. At last.
“It’s over, Clemonte,” Leonardo said, his voice firm.
A lazy smile spread across Clemonte’s oval face. “Hardly. What do you intend on doing now?”
“I should kill you, but you’re not worth it. Stay put until the police arrive and don’t test me.”
Clemonte pursed his lips. “Charming.”
Suddenly, someone launched on to him and brought him to the cement ground. His body slammed against the hard surface, and with the impact, the gun slipped from his hand. His attacker threw it away, and he motioned to hit the guy, but before he moved, Leonardo felt a punch to his stomach, his insides tightening with pain. All before he could even raise his gaze and face the prick who had been coward enough to hit him. Stupid enough. The man was almost his size, burly, with greasy brown hair slicked back.
“You didn’t think I’d come alone, did you?” Harry chuckled. “I hate fighting. Not good for my nails.”
Seeing red at the corners of his eyes, Leonardo growled. The guy was lifting his fist midair, when Leonardo outsmarted him and kneed him in the gut. Hard.
The man screamed, his head bending down.
His hand was cramping from all the action, but he didn’t waver. No. If he stopped, he knew within a couple seconds that son of a bitch would try to clock him. Leonardo flipped him on his back. Under his breath, he heard some noise, people whispering, even though they were a few feet away. No one wanted to get accidentally hurt. And Satyanna…he couldn’t tune out her voice, “Don’t kill him.”
The man’s blood soaked his hand, and Leonardo struck his face again. Once, twice, until he fell on the floor in the fetal position.
“Step back,” Harry shouted. Unlike before, there was no amusement in his drawl.
Leonardo stood to his full height, his eyes automatically looking for Satyanna. She was walking in his direction, saying things he couldn’t quite hear.
“You’ve been an inconvenience for too long.” Harry said, and pointed a handgun at him, the metal shining against the sun.
“Are you crazy, Harry?” Satyanna asked. “Lower that gun. Now.”
Leonardo instinctively touched his pocket, looking for the gun, and remembered it had fallen when the goon caught him unprepared.
“I’m done,” he said, and Leonardo could almost smell the sleek bullet smoking out of the muzzle. He swallowed, hard, getting ready to try and dodge it. Although, what was the point? There’d be others.
The gunshot reverberated in his body, and a fraction of a second later, Satyanna flung into him, her weight crashing against his own. He touched her, and when his eyes drifted to her shoulder, any pain he had experienced until then subsided. A wave of horror washed over him. The blood on his shoulder was Satyanna’s. His heart froze. She’s been shot.
Chapter Seventeen
Satyanna fought her heavy eyelids, but eventually won and opened her eyes. It took her longer than a few seconds to zoom in on the people around her, the few blurry bodies who were moving inside a room.
She blinked.
“She’s awake,” Addie whispered, and walked up to her.
Satyanna looked around, and this time, her eyesight quickly adjusted to the reality around her. A white hospital gown dressed her, and an IV was hooked to her hand. A few machines monitored her, and a nurse checked her vitals.
“Are you okay?” the woman with a kind smile asked, taking her blood pressure.
Okay? That was relative. She glanced down at her shoulder, where she’d been shot, and an ache ran through her. It wasn’t the area covered by a bandage that bothered her. Rather, it was the discomfort from when she’d jumped on Leonardo and pulled a muscle. “My neck is bothering me.”
“I’ll get you a muscle relaxer.” The nurse smiled and put the blood pressure monitor back on its handle on the wall. “You are doing great, though. We have removed the bullet.”
“When can she go home?” Addie asked.
“Soon. We just need to get the doctor to come and check her one more time. I’ll be right back,” the nurse said and sauntered out of the room.
“We were worried,” Bruno said, and she noticed he was sitting on a chair across the room. “I’ll go to the hallway and tell Leonardo you are awake. He’s been here all night, and we had to force him to go home and shower.”
Addie chuckled. “Trust me, that was to your benefit. He still had bloodstains on his clothes.”
Bloodstains. Her temples throbbed; thankfully the nurse wasn’t monitoring her blood pressure anymore otherwise she would have called the doctor on duty or something. Shit. Flashes of the fight flickered in her mind, and she massaged her temple to ease the tension.
“Thank you.” I guess. “What happened to Harry?”
“He was arrested.” Addie smiled. “Someone from the FBI has gotten in touch with the local police, and they will transport him back to the US. He’ll be behind bars for a long time.”
FBI. Of course Harry was no small fish. Besides, just what kind of crimes did he master all the time they were away? “How about Lyanna?”
“She’s fine. The cleaning lady offered to keep an eye on her. But I should be going soon to check on her.”
“Good. I wanna go home,” she said, and if her words were the ground she would have slipped on them. Where was home? Harry was no longer a threat. Would she stick with her part of the deal and stay in Brazil, even though Leonardo only wanted her as Lyanna’s mother?
“I must look like crap, too,” she said.
Addie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “White isn’t your color. But your face looks good. Seriously. You have some color in you. Do you need help brushing your teeth or going to the bathroom?”
“I got shot, I’m not invalid.”
Addie shrugged. “Point taken.”
With a sigh, she unplugged the IV unit from the wall and scooted on the bed. It took her a bit longer than expected, but eventually she walked to the bathroom and smiled when she noticed a few feminine items on the sink. Had Addie brought them, or were they a part of the upscale hospital? She guessed if there was a place you had to stay while sick, this hospital was it.
No. Three and a half months ago she’d been dying to flee a hospital. She hated hospitals. And now…which was worse? Staying here or going back to Leonardo’s home? She wanted her daughter. But now that Harry was out of the picture, Leonardo would go back to his loft. Where would she go?
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and ran her fingers through her hair. When she closed the door behind her, she almost fell backward. Leonardo stood in the middle of the room.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart beat fast like it had somewhere to go.
“How are you?” he asked. A five o’clock shadow covered his jaw, and she noticed dark circles under his eyes. She shouldn’t fool herself by looking at him wearing gray slacks and a maroon shirt that outlined his perfect body. Deep down, he was the same guy who didn’t want her a
ll the way. He’d said so himself. She was not marriage material.
She glanced around the room and realized Addie and Bruno were gone. They must have slipped out while she was in the bathroom. Traitors. “You made it here in record time,” she said.
“I was already on my way. Thanks to Clemonte being caught, we’re in the process of recovering my sculpture. A French couple had bought it. They don’t want the world to know they are linked to the black market, so they are shipping it back.”
She hoped her brain signaled a special command for her legs to move, otherwise she’d continue standing with her hand at her waist, wearing that shapeless gown that could knock the sexy off Angelina Jolie. “Good. I’m glad. How’s Lyanna?”
“She’s great. Misses you. Do you need help?” he asked, and in typical Leonardo fashion, walked to her and gently held her good elbow, steering her toward the bed.
She bit back a smile. “Thanks.”
“I miss you, too.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, and doubted her sudden light-headedness had anything to do with her health. Air was in short supply when he inched closer, his gorgeous hazel eyes on hers. Besides the stressful last twenty-four hours, there was something relaxed, almost boy-like about his expression. Hopeful.
“I have something for you.” He handed her an envelope.
“Let me guess, another contract? With more clauses?” she said, apprehension trickling into her. But, as she opened the envelope to verify its contents, she found hundreds of tiny pieces of shredded paper. “What is this?”
“This is the contract I asked you to sign.”
Did that mean he didn’t even want her to stay in Brazil anymore? Fear knotted her throat. Or, could it maybe, mean that—
“I love you, Satyanna Darling,” he said, staring deep into her eyes.
Brazilian Revenge (The Brazilians) Page 15