Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon (11 page)

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Authors: Carmen Falcone

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary, #Brazil, #Indulgence, #Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon, #Romance, #Entangled, #Carmen Falcone

BOOK: Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon
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“Hello.” Her mother’s voice came through at the fourth ring.

A wave of disappointment swept through her. Considering all the times she’d longed to chat with her mother, today wasn’t one of them. “Hi, Mom.”

“Honey, we were getting worried about you. You sent us a few emails but no calls in a while. Is everything okay?”

“I’m good.” She cleared her throat. “How about you and Dad?”

“Are you still in New York?” A trace of suspicion leaked into Diana Reed’s voice.

Oh, crap. She shouldn’t have called them from New York to check in. She shouldn’t have told them she was there for work. If something had gone wrong with her kidnapping attempt, her parents might have had trouble.

“No. I’m back in Brazil. I’m in Rio.”

“Rio? I thought Toca do Tigre was in Pernambuco.”

Addie practiced the deep breathing exercise she used to calm herself, inhaling all her insecurities and remorse in hopes of exhaling it all out. As she released the air from her lungs, she realized that there was no technique in the world to mask her apprehension in lying to her mother.

“It is. I’m here doing something else.”

“Oh. You’re there for fun?”

Fun? She tucked a loose strand of curly hair behind her ear.
Think.
Only if
fun
was a short word to describe the profusion of emotions assaulting her at every turn, every day—all of them linked to the man whose proximity granted the Kwanis their security at the same time he stole it from her. “Hmmm…yes. Fun,” she replied, injecting energy at the end.

“Addison Reed. Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Yes, but I signed a confidentiality agreement, Mom.” She loosened her hold on the phone, and her shoulders sagged against the chair. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing here. I just wanted to call and check in.”

Her mother snorted. “Confidentiality agreement?”

“Everything is fine. I’m having a good time and am still working on helping the Kwanis.”

“I see.” Skepticism leaked into her mother’s voice. “You’d tell me if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Addie rushed to say. “Can I talk to Dad?”

Addie sat next to Camila, joining her and Bruno for breakfast. She contemplated the selection of fruits, juices, and breads set out on the table. Mangoes, papaya, guava, apples, and the exquisite pastries,
pão doce
. She licked her upper lip in anticipation when she held the soft, warm sweet bread topped with flakes of coconut and guava. Food would distract her from paying attention to the man across from her.

“I was thinking, Bruno, maybe we can spend more time with father today,” Camila said. “The nurse said he got a lot of rest and seems more alert.”

Bruno continued to drink his coffee, holding the cup with both hands.

Addie didn’t get it. The idea should have pleased him, yet for some reason it had a numbing effect on his face. He rested his cup on the table and gave her a warning glance before telling his sister, “Not today. I have already made arrangements to show Addie around. I haven’t spent enough time with her since we got here.” Addie opened her mouth to protest but hesitated. After running away from the party last night, she somehow owed him. And wasn’t that the role she was there to play? His wife, even if not as obedient as he wished?

“Of course.” Camila suppressed a smile. “Addie must see the beauty of our city.” She touched Addie’s hand over the table and gave her a light squeeze.

It couldn’t be easy for Camila. The nearness of losing her father, and a complicated big brother for a visit? Addie patted her hand gently.

She turned to Bruno and asked, “Should I bring anything?”
Besides the growing tension between us?

“Come as you are,” he simply said.

After breakfast, she ran upstairs, threw some sunglasses inside her bag, and met him in the garage. And waited until they were safely in the car to drill him with questions. “Why did you do that?”

He pulled the Mercedes sedan out of the garage and onto the long, curvy driveway. “After last night, I realized I don’t know you very well. It’s time to change that.” He put on his sleek black sunglasses.

“Why don’t you want to spend more time with your father? I thought he was why we came and got married.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with him.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Trust me, coming here and seeing him… He wanted to see me settled.”

They drove off the estate, and the breathtaking view of beaches to the north and tall, green mountaintops to the south didn’t distract her for long. “None of your siblings settled.”

He shrugged. “I’m the oldest.”

“I still don’t buy it. If my father were dying, I’d want to spend every waking second next to him.” Her relationship with her father at times surpassed her relationship with her mother. He had been a rock for her, and in many ways still was. He’d kept their family together when they’d almost broken apart.

Bruno gave her a sideways glance. “Yet you’re here. Thousands of miles away from your family. Do they even know you’re in Rio?”

A pang of guilt tugged at her conscience, the phone call from earlier fresh in her memory. Hopefully she’d get everything straightened out, and maybe she’d tell her family everything like pulling off a Band-Aid…long after she divorced Bruno. “Yes, but they think I’m here for work. I can’t tell them I married you.”

He chuckled. “I’m such a bad prospect?”

She enjoyed how his lips parted, his face soft and relaxed. “You’re very bad. But I guess there’s hope for you. It was nice of you to get that dog off the streets.”

Torto had become a family member, with Camila catering to his every need. Even Sergio sometimes allowed the dog in his room. Addie’s stomach fluttered. “Why did you do it?”

“I thought it needed a home.”

“Even when you don’t know where it’s been?”

“Oh, I can imagine where it’s been.” His smile made her sex clench. She picked up a business magazine from the console and fanned herself.

“What was Michael like?”

She instinctively touched her neck, her fingers ready to toy with the necklace. But they didn’t brush on a roughened sterling silver chain—instead, they found only her cold, bare skin. “He was righteous, sweet. He constantly put other people first.”

“What happened?” Though he asked her casually, she sensed his tension.

“Someone tried to violate a Kwani woman hiking back from town. He defended her and was stabbed. It took the ambulance forty-five minutes to arrive. He didn’t make it past fifteen.” She could almost still smell the burning rubber as the killer took off in his car. She’d stayed with Michael, his head cradled in her hands, his bleeding body stiffening, his eyelashes fluttering. “At least they caught the bastard.”

“I’m sorry.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. His thumb gently circled the center of her palm. A simple, innocent touch from him, and heat escalated in her body. Without his expression giving anything away, his fingers intertwined with hers.

She sat upright and clenched her legs together, her warm thighs rubbing against each other as the space between them ached. For the first time since she’d known him, the idea of sleeping with Bruno shifted from problematic and disastrous to a distinct possibility.

No man had ever made her feel this sexual, this ready, with just a touch. He obviously didn’t love her, didn’t want to keep her beyond the prearranged amount of time. So why shouldn’t she take advantage of the situation?

There was no better way to fully awaken her sexuality again than to sleep with the man who seemed to hold a PhD in the subject.

She would find a way to take advantage of his…expertise. After all, he was the right-now kind. And right now, she wanted him. What could be wrong with that?

Chapter Nine

“I’m not sure about this.” Addie chewed on her lower lip as she picked a couple of bikinis from the crowded rack and pressed them against her clothed body.

“Don’t be a chicken. Hitting the beach was your idea,” Bruno whispered behind her, his voice making her quiver. She spun on her flip-flops, producing an annoying sound against the cheap plastic floor.

After leaving the Corcovado, they’d grabbed a bite to eat at a seafood restaurant, where she’d told him how she missed the beach. Now, cramped inside the tiny swimsuit shop, her stomach churned. How hadn’t she thought this through? There was no easy way to pick up a bikini on the way to the beach, not when the ones in front of her exposed more than they concealed.

“Yes, but these bikinis make the ones from
Sports Illustrated
look like burkas.”

Bruno dipped his head, his breath fanning her earlobe. A zing of warmth spread through her body. “Are you afraid you can’t pull them off?”

“Just because I don’t want to be objectified in a public place?”

“Spoken like someone who’s afraid.”

She cursed the response of her body, which ignited with every word he murmured, his intoxicating scent luring her. The indecent promise his eyes carried—the spark that drew her in, seduced her, and both empowered and weakened her in equal measure. “I’m not afraid,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. Then, summoning her courage, she raised her voice. “I’m not afraid.”

“Prove it,” he challenged, picking a lime green bikini from the rack and handing the small pieces of fabric to her.

She glanced at the tiny two-piece and glided her fingers over the Lycra. “Okay.” She stepped toward the men’s racks, which placed her at a disadvantage since they contained only a handful of swim trunks and Speedos. Biting back a smile, she grabbed the first one she saw and handed it to him. Black swim briefs, longer than Speedos. The type a swimmer or a present-day James Bond would wear. That way, she protected herself from having to see him so exposed. “You will wear that. Deal?”

“Deal.”

When they reached the beach, Addie let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
How beautiful…

The sun was close to setting, and the fresh ocean breeze caressed her skin as she buried her feet beneath the warm, white sand. Unlike the famous beaches in the city, such as Ipanema and Copacabana, this one, a good hour away from the hustle and bustle, had virtually no visitors at this time of day.

She squinted at the sun. The indulgence of having the sand, the sea, and the beach for their personal pleasure set a thrill of anticipation through her.
Pleasure.
That was all she’d been thinking while he patiently stood with her at the long and god-awful line to visit the statue of Christ the Redeemer.
Pleasure.
All she thought about as he drove through downtown Rio, pointing out landmarks. But her attention stayed on his long fingers.

“You like it?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She inhaled the salty sea air with gusto. “It’s amazing.”

“Ready for a dip?” he asked after she dropped her bag on the countertop of an abandoned kiosk. He removed his shirt and shorts in one fluid movement. Her body roared in response to the way those black briefs complemented his athletic body. His rippled muscles shifted as he walked. The hair on his chest practically invited her fingers to run through it.

And his bronze skin looked like he’d never left Brazil.

Not like hers. She pressed her lips together. The freckles on her shoulders and the lack of tan lines pegged her as a visitor. Still, she managed to wiggle out of her shorts and shirt. The lime green bikini was probably ridiculous on her. The small halter top barely covered her breasts, and the bottom was smaller than a cocktail napkin, with two thin strings tied on the sides. The back… Her jaw had dropped when she’d seen it inside the dressing room, and now heat flushed her face. It wasn’t quite a G-string, but only because she kept stretching the flimsy material so it wouldn’t look like it had been devoured by her butt cheeks. Her whole life, her body had been slender and toned. Not bony and weak, but strong and ready for any challenge. Well, the blatant exposure of the bikini was a new one. She hoped she could pull it off.

Judging by the bob of his Adam’s apple, she did.

“Time to go in the water.” His eyes quickly took in her bikini, followed by a head shake. He turned and strode to the sea, leaving her no option but to follow.

She swallowed hard. Was she ready for the consequences of what she was about to do? There was no way this could be an innocent day trip, was there?

The moment she dipped her toe into the cold water, her skin broke out with goose bumps. The temperature surprised her, because she had been to beaches in northeast Brazil, and there the water had been nice and warm.

Bruno playfully splashed her. “There are no frogs in the water, Addie.”

Not literally anyway. Which was worse—wrestling her desire for him or acting on it? She moved her feet restlessly in the chilly water, sinking deeper as she headed away from shore. Maybe it would be cold enough to calm her nerves. And her trembling thighs.

For a few minutes, they stood side by side in the water up to her shoulders. A seagull cried, and she looked up.

With the grace of an Olympian, Bruno began to swim, stroking the water rhythmically with his long limbs. She watched him, and her internal heat replaced the chill from the water around them.

Bruno dove beneath the water. When he surfaced, water dribbled from his smooth hair and down his broad shoulders. She licked her lips, wanting to throw self-preservation out the window. She doubted the yearning would go away. There was always the possibility he would be awful in bed, and she’d move forward.

I doubt it.

“I want you, Bruno,” she blurted.

His cool, focused stare didn’t give anything away. “You want me?”

Did her face show all the excruciating anticipation eating her inside? “Yes.”

She didn’t unlock her eyes from his. If he was going to tell her no, she might as well bare it all. Only then would she search for a place to crawl into. His eyes darkened, and he assessed her with peculiar interest
.
That’s what she got for having no finesse whatsoever. For having no control over her mouth. Hell, right now she barely had any control over her body. The little she had, she wanted to hand over to him on a silver platter. Or any way he’d have her.

The current gained strength and tried to pull her away from him, which prompted him to place both hands on her hips. At this point, if it had carried her away, she would be grateful.
What a great ending to a failed attempt at seduction.

“You can let me go now.” The water hadn’t stilled, but she didn’t care.

“That’s the problem—I can’t let you go.” He leaned down, pulled her close to him, and tightened his grip. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him. Their mouths bonded together in a hot, soul-searching kiss.

A shiver ran through her. She caressed his shoulders then slid her hand down his chest, cupping his taut nipples. The feel of his bare skin under her fingertips gave her the freedom she never knew she lacked. She barely recognized her raw, honest moan.

He deepened the kiss, using his tongue to tease her ruthlessly. Retaliating, she shifted her body and slid her hand down his trunks. Once her hand passed through the cool, tactile fabric and found his pulsating arousal, she cupped him. Oh, it was exquisite to clasp her fingers around his hot bulge, to feel the stiffness of his shoulders, and hear the low groan from his throat.

He withdrew his lips from hers just enough to say, “Watch it. We don’t have condoms.”

“Yes we do. I bought them. At the pharmacy.” Having insisted on making a quick stop to buy sunblock had its perks.

His smile had a bone-melting effect. “Impulsive and cautious. What a heady mix.”

Her heart pounded in her ears. To make things worse, or better, he brushed her hair to the side and licked her ear. The simple brush of his lips on her sensitive flesh made her body ache. She stroked him harder and loved how he grew even more, cradled in her palm. She wanted, no, needed to see it. To ride it.

“Bruno.” Her demand was obvious.

He slid his arms underneath her knees and lifted her, all the while their mouths remained glued together, and carried her out of the water.

She heard the rough scrape of a door. When her eyes opened again, they were inside the abandoned kiosk. The small, square-shaped refuge had sand on the floor and a few grains of sand on the rough countertop, where he positioned her. She squirmed when he pulled down his briefs and his large, proud erection sprang free.

She reached inside her bag and fumbled until the foil packet glided between her fingers.

“I’m glad you won’t make me beg,” she said with a voice so throaty it could have belonged to someone else. She was someone else. Everyday-Addie enjoyed adventures, but she’d never slept with a guy so soon and in a place where they could easily be spotted. The adrenaline from zip-lining in the Brazilian forests, or swimming against the current of a river had nothing on Bruno Duarte—he was a different sport all by himself.

“Who says I won’t make you beg?” With a disarming grin, he untied both sides of her bottoms with mastery. As the diminutive piece of fabric slithered over her skin, she pushed away any inhibitions.

“You’re shameless.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned, inserting a finger inside her. She jolted forward. He chuckled, scrutinizing her reaction. His thumb pressed hard against her clit, and his fingers traced an invisible pattern on her most intimate flesh, branding his touch on her. If he didn’t stop… She moaned and leaned toward him to lick the salty seawater off his neck. But he dodged her touch, and her tongue, and lowered his body instead. Soon, his eyes and fingers were on the same level.

Oh no.

He pulled her to the edge of the countertop, and the rough friction against the uneven and splintery surface scratched the back of her leg. A momentary sting of pain hit her, and she pressed her lips together. He spread her legs wide and grasped her ankles, planting her feet on the edge of the countertop. She sucked in all the breath she could manage and forgot the pain.

Oh yes.

She threw her head back, expecting him to kiss her damp thighs. What she didn’t expect was the unrestrained way he separated her moist folds to go straight into licking the tip of her over-sensitized clitoris, without any warning. Straight to business.

She jerked and a sharp tingle of pleasure coursed through her. He withdrew his hand and pulled her against him. He caressed her buttocks with both hands, and finally buried his head between her legs.

He stroked her with his tongue and sucked, and each time the movement turned faster, deeper, stronger, and she bucked against him. He held her tighter in place, arousing her even more.

She threaded her fingers in his wet hair and allowed him to lead her to a land of no-instructions-needed. He knew what she wanted, and although it was the first time he tasted her, he acted as if he knew her better than anyone.

Even better than herself, she realized as she broke into hot spasms. The powerful orgasm shattered her, leaving her with the aftermath of a body-earthquake: weakened limbs and coarse throat. She crossed her still-trembling legs when he withdrew from between them. Her ragged breath prevented her from uttering more than a sigh.

But from the look on his face, he was far from finished. “Stand up,” he rasped.

He helped her reach the ground, but her legs wobbled. A smile filled with male pride broke his focused stare. He turned her so that she faced the countertop, and he stood behind her and grasped her waist. She splayed her hands on the surface, desire renewed.

When one of his legs slid between hers, she threw her head back, and her hair slapped his upper chest. With a low groan, he roughly pulled her hair to the side and exposed her neckline to his breath.

Oh, his kisses. The moment he nibbled on her sensitive flesh, she quivered, raised her hips, and bucked against him. He gave a husky chuckle and murmured something she couldn’t understand. For the moment, understanding was overrated…and unnecessary. He sucked on her skin—and ignited an awareness that spread throughout her body. Nothing else mattered.

He raised a hand to her breast and cupped her hardened nipple. She rubbed her body against his, urging for release, her fingers gripping the wood with white-knuckled intensity. She focused on the great big sea in front of her, still and scenic. Unable to resist, she moved her head to the side and grazed his sexy, stubbled chin. He groaned and dipped his tongue inside her mouth, mimicking the movements his cock would soon do to her sex. Or so she hoped, because she knew she couldn’t take much more.

“Bruno, now.” She withdrew her lips from his, her voice sounding a tad more desperate than she desired.

He squeezed her breast and moved his hand down her body to seek evidence of her arousal.

When he inserted two fingers inside her, she whimpered. Whimpered!
Get yourself together, Addie
… But the thought fled from her head and vanished like sand against the blowing wind.

“You are soaked,” he whispered behind her. “And it’s all for me.”

She entertained coming back with a witty one-liner just to save face, but her brain was deliciously melting like hot fudge. No questions asked. No answers needed.

He grabbed the condom from the countertop and stretched it over his length. She bent over a little, and when he finally penetrated her, she felt insanely complete. His cock filled her, and she arched with pleasure and pain, trying to get used to him. Sensing her momentary stiffness, he withdrew, which made her ache even more.

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