Illegitimate Tycoon (23 page)

 
          
“A
gated community would be safer.”

 
          
She
cut him a dubious look. “Because we all can be sure that our neighbor is the
trustworthy sort?” Before he could respond to that, she snorted and went on. “I
don’t want to live that way, Rafael. I never did. Being that close to neighbors
reminds me of the
favelas
. There was
no privacy. No security. Everyone knew everyone’s business there.”

 
          
He
nodded in understanding, for while he’d grown up in a small flat, there had
been no secrets in the village. Which is why he preferred his hacienda carved
out of the rain forest. It was a compound with an adequate staff who knew how
to make themselves blend into their surroundings.

 
          
There
he felt free.

 
          
And
once Leila moved in with him, once their children were born, he’d no longer
feel so alone, so adrift in this world.

 
          
“Are
you hungry?” she asked, dropping her bag on the terrazzo floor and striding
into the kitchen, her heels tapping out a beat that matched the pounding of his
heart.

 
          
“Ravenous,”
he said, the sway of her hips leaving him carnally aching for her.

 
          
He
ruthlessly tamped down that desire and joined her in a kitchen that was light
and airy. After reading about the dangers Leila could face, he wouldn’t make
love to her until he’d spoken with a doctor. Even then he wasn’t sure that
he
was willing to take that risk just to
satisfy his lust.

 
          
“Where
would you like to eat?” he asked, kicking himself for not insisting they stop
at a restaurant before they got to her house. But then he hadn’t known she’d
moved out into the hills. He hadn’t guessed she didn’t have a housekeeper or
cook on staff. “Right here.”

 
          
Leila? Cook?
She surprised him by
preparing huge salads teeming with fresh vegetables, ripe cheeses and a blend
of native olives. For his benefit, she added steamed chicken and a crisp
Californian chardonnay.

 
          
He
carried the food out onto the patio that overlooked the cliffs, marveling at
how domestic she clearly was. He hadn’t known that about her, but then they had
spent a year apart. The meal was light, the warm breeze refreshing and the view
of the glowing orange sun dipping into the sea breathtaking.

 
          
Yet
he found himself more content to watch her. To just be in her company and share
this quiet time with her.

 
          
And
it was quiet. Isolated. How long would it take her to get medical help from
here? Who’d know if she needed help if she was here alone?

 
          
“I
would like to visit your doctor,” he said.

 
          
Her
brow narrowed the slightest bit, and for a moment he was sure she’d argue.

 
          
“I
have an appointment tomorrow after the session. You’re welcome to come along.”

 
          
As
if he needed an invitation!

 
          
“How
long does it take you to reach your doctor or the hospital?” he asked.

 
          
“If
the traffic is moving, I can get there in forty-five minutes.”

 
          
“That’s
too long in an emergency,” he said, his insides clenching at how much precious
time would be wasted to get her to a hospital. “It is less than twenty minutes
from the
fazenda
to the highest-rated
obstetrician and hospital in all of Brazil.”

 
          
“You’ve
researched every aspect of this already?”

 
          
He
gave a brief nod, for once he realized the risks she faced, he couldn’t stop
until he’d left no stone unturned. “I want the best for you and our babies.”

 
          
“You
want me under your control in Brazil.”

 
          
“I
want you safe,” he reiterated, the ringing of her mobile an irritation he could
have lived without.

 
          
While
he would have preferred she let it ring, she pushed her half-eaten salad aside
and took the call. “Yes, I know the place. Is the second session there as well?”

 
          
Second session?
When had this come
about?

 
          
“Okay,”
she said. “It’s better to get it all done in one day if possible. Thanks for
the update.”

 
          
“I
gather that was your agent,” he said, rocking back in his chair to savor his
wine after she ended the call.

 
          
“Yes,
she always gives me a courtesy call before a session, especially if there has
been a change.” She tried to stifle a yawn and failed. “The photographer wants
to do both sessions tomorrow because he won’t be back in L.A. for six weeks. By
then I will be showing.”

 
          
By
then Rafael hoped for them to be settled into their home in São Paulo. But he
resisted bringing that topic up now.

 
          
She
got to her feet and yawned again. “Two flights so close together have exhausted
me, so forgive me for seeking bed so soon.”

 
          
He
waved aside her apology, more concerned that she was this weary. Was that
normal? Should she call her doctor? Should he?

 
          
His
mobile vibrated in his pocket, and he frowned, annoyed that someone had chosen
that moment to ring him. He spared a moment to check the display and swore. His
manager wouldn’t ring him unless it was urgent.

 
          
“Sorry,
I can’t ignore this,” he said to Leila, looking up with an apologetic frown.
But she had already gone inside the house, leaving him alone with his worries
and his hopes rattling through him.

 
          
The
rest of the evening was lost for him in business, long phone calls and even
longer hours poring over designs on his laptop. By the time he’d finished it
was after midnight. His back ached and his head swam with numbers and codes,
none of it making sense to him any longer.

 
          
The
house was dark. Quiet.

 
          
He
found the bedroom, stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed beside her,
pulling her into the curve of his body. His palm splayed over her flat belly.

 
          
She
moaned in her sleep and snuggled closer. He smiled, his heart full, but worry
quickly intruded.

 
          
His
wife. His babies. He’d never forgive himself if he failed to keep them safe.

 
          
That
mantra whispered through him the following morning as he drove Leila to the
session, the powerful car maneuvering the winding coastal highway with ease.
The site of the shoot along the jagged rocks that spilled into the ocean was
breathtaking and hinted of danger.

 
          
The
photographer applauded her professionalism and Rafael appreciated his wife’s
poise and beauty against a backdrop of stone and sand and sea. She made her job
look effortless when he knew it was demanding.

 
          
However,
the afternoon session farther up the coast in a small seaside town was entirely
different, all because by the time the light was right, Leila’s sizzling energy
was fading. While her body was perfect and her smile captivating, there was a
remoteness in her eyes.

 
          
“Just
a couple more, Leila,” the photographer said after she’d taken a break to
refresh her makeup and hydrate herself. “Work with me. Let’s do this right in
one so we can get out of here.”

 
          
Leila
shook her arms, stretched, then struck a pose that was pure seduction. His
entire body hummed with want of her.

 
          
“That’s
it,” the photographer said, rapidly snapping shots and shifting his position to
capture her in a variety of angles. “Now go for the kill.”

 
          
Rafael
made to step back. But her gaze swung to his and locked. Hot. Glittering with
challenge and sensual promise.

 
          
His
mouth went dry as blood surged through him in hot urgent pulses. His sex grew
heavy and stiff. Just like at the shoots in the south of France.

 
          
But
unlike then, he quickly got caught up in this new dangerous game. An alarmingly
public game.

 
          
It
was the first time he’d let down the walls of his own control where anyone but
Leila could see him. But nobody was watching him. Just her.

 
          
And
right now her smoldering eyes were blazing into his.

 
          
He
paced, stoking the fires of her passion with his eyes, tossing more kindling on
his own.
I want you naked and under me
,
querida!

 
          
She
lifted her chin, quick to join him in this visual foreplay, tracking him with
her eyes. As if challenging him to take her now!

 
          
There
was something deeply erotic in standing in the shadows with her under the
spotlight making love to him with her eyes. Of knowing everyone in the room was
watching her. Aroused by her expressions, her seductive poses.

 
          
“That’s
it,” the photographer said, rapidly snapping pictures. “Move with it, Leila.
Come on, sweetheart, pour it on.”

 
          
And
she did just that, her hot gaze stroking every inch of Rafael until he thought
he’d go up in flames. Surely his eyes smoldered with passion as they caressed
the full swell of her upthrust breasts and the nipples that had hardened in
want of his fingers and lips.

 
          
He
ached to move with the provocative sway of her hips. To feel the press of her
tight round bottom against his erection and stroke the sweet silken flesh
between her thighs that would be wet and ready for him now.

 
          
By
the time the photographer gave a satisfied nod and ended the session, Rafael
was in agony with his unquenched desire. Leila looked ready to rip off her
clothes and seduce him then and there.

 
          
But
when he escorted her to the passenger door of her car, he heard her wince. “What’s
wrong?” She eased onto the seat, her eyes seeming too huge, her face too
flushed. But it was the hand pressed to her stomach that sent a chill streaking
down his spine.

 
          
“I
had a sharp pain in my side just then,” she said. “I must have stayed in one
position too long on the set.”

 
          
Though
it was possible she was right, his concern that this could be the start of a
more dangerous issue stormed through his mind. But saying that would alarm her,
and that was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

 
          
He
slammed behind the wheel and took off down the highway toward L.A. as fast as
he dared. “Call your doctor and see if he wants you to come to his office, or
go to the hospital.”

 
          
“I’m
sure you are overreacting,” she said, but she was making the call while she
spoke.

 
          
Impatience
crashed through him in cold icy waves as he listened to her explain her pain to
whoever answered the phone. “I don’t think so. No, just the one time. Okay, we
are on our way.”

 
          
“Where?”
he asked, forcing his voice to remain calm when he was far from calm.

 
          
“The
doctor’s office,” she said, and gave him directions.

 
          
Due
to a traffic snarl, the hour and a half drive took close to two hours. Rafael’s
nerves stretched to the breaking point and snapped. He careered into a parking
slot and slammed on the brakes, his blood as hot as the powerful engine. “It
takes far too long to get from one point to another in this city.”