Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1)

by Chantelle Shaw

  Cruz had taken one look at the candy-pink walls and the large collection of teddy bears piled on the bed and commented that the room looked as if it had been decorated for a child.

  ‘My mother helped me choose the colour scheme when I was ten,’ she had admitted. ‘The room reminds me of her, and I don’t want to get rid of my bears. After Mum left, they and Tristan were my best friends.’

  The image of Sabrina living virtually on her own in the huge house with only a nanny to look after her had evoked a strange tug in Cruz’s heart, but he had ignored the unwelcome sensation. He’d chosen another bear-free bedroom for them to share and added a few toys of his own, namely a mirror fitted to the ceiling above the bed, and a pair of diamond-encrusted handcuffs, which he had persuaded Sabrina to wear the first time and she had asked him to use on several occasions since.

  Whoever had coined the idiom ‘be careful what you wish for’ had known what they were talking about, he mused. When Sabrina had agreed to be his mistress he had insisted that all he wanted was sex without emotion—and that was exactly what she gave him every night.

  Their enormous four-poster bed at Eversleigh Hall was their sensual playground where they shut out the world and indulged in long hours of lovemaking that left them sated until the morning, when he would reach across the mattress for her and she would slide into his arms, as hungry for sex as he was.

  But afterwards she always moved back to her side of the bed. It was as if there were an invisible barrier between them, and with each passing day, and night, Cruz felt a growing sense of frustration that had nothing to do with his sexual appetite. He found himself wishing that she would remain in his arms after they’d had sex, even though he had always been irritated by previous lovers who had wanted to cuddle and cling to him, or, even worse, wanted him to talk to them.

  There were no such problems with Sabrina. She would reply if he initiated conversation, and she was perfectly pleasant and cordial, but her air of detachment made him want to shake a response from her. Even in bed, when her desire matched his and she responded to him with a fervency that drove him to the edge of his sanity, he sensed that she held some part of herself back from him.

  He should be pleased, Cruz told himself, that when their business deal ended five months from now and he no longer required her to be his mistress, he would not have to worry that she might make a scene when he walked away from her. In fact, she probably would not even notice that he had gone.

  He turned towards the door as she emerged from her dressing room, and the faint tug on his heart became a hard ache. The full-length, strapless evening gown, the colour of deep red wine, fitted her like a glove and showed off her tiny waist while the ruched bodice pushed her breasts high and gave her a deep cleavage that Cruz knew would draw the eyes of every male at the party.

  ‘You look exquisite,’ he murmured, hoping she did not hear the raw note of longing in his voice. He picked up a slim leather box from the dressing table and walked over to her. ‘I have something for you to wear that I think will suit your dress perfectly.’

  Sabrina caught her breath as Cruz opened the lid to reveal a single strand of square-cut diamonds that even though she was no expert she could tell were of exceptional quality. The diamonds glittered with a fiery brilliance as he lifted the necklace out of the box and held it against her skin.

  ‘Turn round and lift up your hair.’

  Pleasure shivered through her when she felt his fingers lightly brush against the back of her neck as he fastened the necklace. He looked unbelievably gorgeous in his formal dinner suit and she wished the evening were over and she could undress him slowly, tease him a little so that he promised punishment in return. Perhaps he would order her to lie face down on the pillows and use the diamond handcuffs to secure her hands to the ornate Victorian bedhead. She felt a familiar molten sensation between her legs. Cruz had revealed a depth of sensuality to her nature that she had not known existed and she was certain she would never experience with any other man, she thought bleakly.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘What?’ She was startled out of her reverie and prayed he had no idea of her wayward thoughts. ‘Oh...it’s beautiful.’ She touched the diamond necklace that circled her throat. ‘This must be the loveliest piece in the Delgado collection and I’ll enjoy showcasing it for you tonight. I’m sure it will attract plenty of interest from potential buyers at the party.’

  ‘It’s not a Delgado piece. I commissioned the necklace using stones from my own personal collection, and it’s not for sale, it’s a gift for you.’

  Her heart gave a jolt. ‘I can’t possibly accept something so valuable.’ She spun round to face him and saw an indefinable emotion briefly cross his sculpted features. ‘You have already given me the means to safeguard my home,’ she said huskily. ‘I don’t ask or want for more.’

  ‘You didn’t want to save Eversleigh for yourself. You wanted it for your brother, didn’t you? I am aware of how titles and estates are passed down the generations of a family through the male line.’ Cruz cut her off before she could argue. ‘I also discovered from Tristan when he visited last week that he is about to begin the very expensive training course to become a commercial airline pilot. Your brother was under the impression that the course fees were paid out of your father’s bank account, but you and I know differently, don’t we, querida?’

  ‘You didn’t tell Tris the truth, did you?’ she asked sharply.

  ‘Of course I didn’t. But I wish you had been more honest with me. You allowed me to think that you wanted to continue living a life of luxury at Eversleigh Hall, but instead I find that you are responsible for running the house and estate and you do everything from mopping floors to mending farm fences.’

  She shrugged. ‘What difference would it have made if you had known the situation here? I still needed money to keep the estate solvent until my father returns.’ Her grey eyes met his olive-green gaze, and she said quietly, ‘There was only one reason why I sold my body to you.’

  She meant Eversleigh of course, Cruz told himself. He raked a hand through his hair. ‘If I’d known you were offering yourself as a martyr for your family I would have... I don’t know...been kinder, more caring.’ Dull colour ran under his skin when Sabrina stared at him.

  ‘Caring is an emotion, but all you want from me is sex. You can’t change the rules halfway through the game.’ She threw her pashmina around her shoulders. ‘It’s time we were going, or we’ll be late.’

  Cruz inhaled her perfume, a subtle blend of white orchids and jasmine, as elegantly beautiful as the woman wearing it, and he was tempted to haul her into his arms and tell her that it was his game and he could change the rules whenever he liked. But Sabrina had already stepped into the hallway and she stooped down to scoop a ball of ginger fur into her arms.

  ‘Darling George, I won’t be gone for too long,’ she crooned to the cat. ‘I hope you don’t miss me, sweetheart.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll survive on his own for a few hours.’ Cruz told himself it was ridiculous to feel jealous of a cat. He and George had come to a truce of sorts, in that he tolerated the cat, and the cat gave him a smug look every time it jumped into Sabrina’s lap.

  ‘You are so heartless,’ she complained when he firmly closed the door to deny the cat access to the bedroom. ‘I love George.’

  ‘Lucky George,’ Cruz murmured.

  As he followed Sabrina down the stairs he realised that he could not allow this unsatisfactory situation to continue. He had set the rules of their relationship and he could change them, but first he needed to be clear about what he wanted from his infuriatingly aloof mistress.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IF SOMEONE HAD told him when he had been growing up in the favela, forced to search through piles of rotting rubbish for something to eat, that one day he would be bored of champagne and caviar, he would have found it hugely funny, Cruz brooded.

  He kept his thoughts to himself and smiled at the silver
-haired woman beside him who seemed to have been talking for hours. Lady Aisling’s husband had business connections in China, and networking was always useful. The chance to socialise with powerful business leaders was the reason Cruz had coerced Sabrina into being his mistress. One of the reasons, he acknowledged self-derisively as his gaze was drawn to her. She looked stunning in her figure-hugging velvet gown, and she was clearly charming the socks off Lord Aisling.

  Sabrina’s beautiful face was animated and she exuded an air of warm friendliness that drew people to her. Why did she never smile at him the way she was smiling at Lord Aisling, or the waiter who stopped to offer her a tray of canapés? She showed more affection to her goddamned cat than to him, Cruz thought darkly. But as she had reminded him, emotions were not included in their deal.

  Lady Aisling’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. ‘Charles and I are driving down to Chichester tomorrow to spend a few days on our yacht. Do you have any plans for the bank holiday weekend, Mr Delgado?’

  ‘Actually I’ve arranged to take Sabrina to my house in Portugal.’

  ‘This is the first time you have mentioned your plans to me, darling,’ Sabrina said sweetly while her eyes flashed daggers at Cruz.

  ‘I wanted to surprise you—darling.’

  ‘Oh, you have,’ she murmured in a syrupy tone that didn’t fool him for a minute.

  He deemed it sensible to keep out of her line of fire for the rest of the evening. The party was a lavish affair, the food was divine and the vintage champagne superb, but Cruz could not throw off his black mood. He had everything he had ever dreamed of as a boy: money, several beautiful houses in various parts of the world and, perhaps more important than anything, financial security that enabled him to take care of his mother and sisters. He also currently went to bed every night with a stunning blonde who had proved herself willing to satisfy his every sexual whim, so why the hell wasn’t he happy?

  ‘How long do you plan for us to spend in Portugal?’ Sabrina demanded after the party had ended and they were travelling back to Eversleigh Hall in the chauffeur-driven Bentley.

  ‘A week or two.’

  ‘A week or two! May I remind you that I have a job? My lectures at the university—’

  ‘Have been rescheduled for next month,’ Cruz told her blandly. ‘I phoned the principal and explained that I needed to arrange for you to have special leave. Mrs Peters thought it was very romantic,’ he added drily.

  ‘Presumably you didn’t disillusion her and tell her that the only reason you require my presence in Portugal is to provide you with sex?’ Sabrina snapped. She felt furious that Cruz thought he owned her, although technically for the next five months he did, she conceded.

  At the end of their business arrangement he would walk away from her. The thought hurt more than it had any right to. Each time they made love she found it harder to hide her emotional response to him, but she knew she must, because Cruz was not interested in her emotions. All he wanted from her was convenient sex while he was at Eversleigh to search for the map that had so far proved elusive.

  She glanced at his chiselled profile and thought that he did not look particularly happy. Her heart lurched. Had he grown tired of their arrangement and bored of her? He had been in a curious mood all evening, and several times during the party she had caught him looking at her with an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

  ‘Tell me about your parents,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘You gave the impression that they hated each other.’

  It was the first time since she had become his mistress that he had shown any curiosity about her personal life. ‘I don’t think they felt such a strong emotion as hate,’ Sabrina said slowly, ‘but they grew to dislike each other intensely. My mother told me that they had only dated a few times when she fell pregnant with me. I was very much an accident, but my grandfather, who was the earl at that time, insisted that my father married my mother, and threatened to disinherit him if he refused. My father stood at the altar with a figurative gun aimed at his head. It was hardly a good start, and the marriage deteriorated rapidly when Dad started spending most of his time in Brazil.’

  ‘I don’t understand how you can compare our situation ten years ago with your parents,’ Cruz said harshly. ‘No one forced me to propose to you.’

  ‘You only asked me because I was carrying your baby. There was a good chance that if we had married we would have ended up arguing constantly like I remember my parents doing, and like we seem to do now. We don’t discuss things,’ Sabrina muttered. ‘You lay down the law and expect me to comply. The trip to Portugal that you’ve decided on is a prime example of how you are determined to have your own way and you ride roughshod over my feelings.’

  Cruz raked a hand through his hair. He was unused to being verbally crucified and he did not like the experience. ‘That was not my intention.’ Honesty forced him to acknowledge there was some truth in Sabrina’s words.

  ‘I suppose I might seem controlling sometimes,’ he said grudgingly. ‘After my father died I became responsible for my mother and sisters. Graciana and Jacinta were just ten years old and they missed their papai terribly. My mother crumbled without Vitor. She relied on me to earn money to keep the family and make all the decisions about my sisters’ upbringing. In effect I became a substitute father to the twins.’

  Sabrina reflected that some aspects of their lives mirrored each other’s. ‘It was the same for me when my parents divorced and I felt that I had to take care of my brother,’ she admitted.

  The car drew up outside Eversleigh Hall and as they walked into the house she murmured, ‘Do you realise that was the first time we have talked about the past without it turning into an argument with accusations on both sides?’

  Cruz had been thinking the same thing. He recalled Sabrina had said that if they had talked more ten years ago maybe there would have been fewer misunderstandings between them. But when he had first met her he had been younger and less self-assured than he was now. He had been tormented with insecurity that he was a poorly paid manual labourer while Sabrina came from an aristocratic family and was used to a luxurious standard of living. It was true that they had not talked much, but he had shown her how he felt about her every time they had made love, he thought defensively.

  When Sabrina had fallen pregnant he had not risked initiating sex because he had believed it could be dangerous for her and their unborn child.

  He put his hand on her arm as she was about to walk up the stairs. ‘Will you join me in the library for a nightcap?’ He saw her look of surprise. Usually he liked to have a drink while he checked his business emails before he joined her in bed. ‘I’m beginning to realise that you were right when you said that we needed to talk about what happened ten years ago,’ he said roughly.

  He poured whisky into two glasses, added lemonade to one, knowing it was how Sabrina preferred it, and handed her drink to her before he joined her on the sofa.

  ‘I accept that I was perhaps overly protective of you while you were pregnant,’ he admitted. ‘Growing up in the favela, my experiences of women in pregnancy were mostly bad and led me to believe that childbirth was potentially life-threatening for both mother and infant. Recently there have been improvements in health and social care for the poorest of Brazil’s population but twenty years ago it was a different story. My mother almost died during one of her pregnancies. I remember when I was about twelve years old Mamãe miscarried late in her pregnancy. She lost so much blood and I thought she could not possibly survive.’

  ‘It must have been a frightening experience for you.’ Sabrina was appalled as she tried to imagine the terrible scene Cruz had witnessed when he had been a boy. ‘Were you concerned for our baby during my pregnancy?’

  ‘I was terrified for you and the child. When I came up from the mineshaft and was told that you were in hospital and had been bleeding heavily, it was like I had fallen back into a nightmare, only it was you instead of my mother whose life was in danger, and my ow
n child not a sibling whose life was over before it had begun.’

  A lump formed in Sabrina’s throat. ‘I thought you were angry with me. You hardly spoke after the miscarriage, and you avoided looking at me.’

  ‘I felt guilty.’ Cruz’s jaw clenched. ‘If you had died, it would have been my fault. You had told me you felt unwell that morning and I should have stayed with you instead of going to work. But I needed to earn money. In a few months there was going to be a new mouth to feed, and I was determined that my child would never go hungry like I often did when I was growing up.’

  ‘I wish you had told me how you had been affected by your mother’s experiences. It would have helped me to understand why you acted the way you did when I became pregnant.’ Sabrina bit her lip. ‘I’d hoped you would come to Eversleigh after me. I was unaware that your father had died.’

  ‘I assumed when I didn’t hear from you after Vitor’s death that you didn’t want anything more to do with me.’ Cruz looked at her intently. ‘If you had known about my father would you have come back to Brazil?’

  ‘Of course I would have done. It makes me sad to think that you were on your own trying to help your mother and sisters through their grief while you were grieving for your father.’

  Something tight and hard inside Cruz softened a little. He finished his Scotch and caught Sabrina’s hand in his. ‘Let’s go to bed.’ He watched her eyes turn smoky with a desire that matched his own. ‘I arranged the trip to Portugal because you were right about us needing to lay the past to rest. My villa is beautiful and secluded, but more importantly it represents neutral territory that holds no painful memories for either of us. Maybe at Quinta na Floresta we will find the courage to be honest with each other so that we can both move forwards with our lives.’

  * * *

  Cruz’s villa was situated in the stunning Sintra National Park on the west coast of Portugal. On the half-hour journey from Lisbon in his open-topped sports car they drove past miles of golden beaches on one side, and verdant forest on the other.