Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon (14 page)

“I’m sorry about earlier. We wanted you to have our best accommodations, and we meant no harm.” Myro gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

Bruno’s lips relaxed into a compromising smile. “It’s okay,” he lied. Throwing Myro into the politics of his marriage wasn’t fair, or particularly helpful.

The
cacique
shifted his head in Addie’s direction. “You must be very special, Mr. Bruno. To sweep her off her feet like that.”

Addie was laughing while she enjoyed a sip of
cachaça
, a strong hard liquor made from sugarcane. She didn’t seem to notice him watching her.

“I heard Michael was very special.”

Myro’s smile spread across his face. “He did a lot for us. A man without flaws.”

A man without flaws.
Bruno immediately cursed himself, once again feeling anger skating inside him.
Even my thoughts are flawed.

“Which is why you must be special for her to have chosen you.” Myro tapped his shoulder again, and he wondered if that was a compliment or an insult.

“There’s more to it than that.”

Myro chuckled. “Mr. Bruno, I’ve known our Addie for almost three years. She is fueled by passion. She doesn’t stand for what she doesn’t believe.”

He watched her share some inside joke with the Kwani women, and his breath caught in his throat. He wished he could believe what Myro told him. Even for a short while. Even just until she found out who he really was. What he really was.

But tonight, he wanted Addie to be his.

Chapter Twelve

She had to give it to him, he acted as if he were trying.

The ceremony began. Myro said a prayer and invited them all to dance and thank the gods for the baby girl’s safe delivery. Addie was familiar with the circular dancing around the fire, which symbolized their warrior spirit.

They chanted around a big blaze, the leaders shaking coconut-shell maracas. Everyone joined and did the same movement; circled, front and back, back and front. She tried not to look in Bruno’s direction, but she occasionally caught a glimpse of him. Juracyr sat at his side and said something to him, making him laugh. Of course, no one was immune to Bruno’s charms. She tried to look away, but her eyes locked on his figure. He’d taken his shoes off and finally behaved like he was having a good time. Would that change anything?

His gaze darted to hers. Fire coiled low in her belly, with the threat to venture even lower if she didn’t stop it. A couple men began to play the drums. The circle turned into a crowd of people appreciating the music or heading to get more food from the large hut. With a sigh, she disentangled her hands from the others.

There was nowhere to run. She’d end up spending the night with him, under the same roof. There was always the option of partying into the wee hours of the morning, using her Kwani friends and acquaintances as an excuse to hide from him. She had held the beautiful baby girl in her arms, and emotion had ripped through her. Why would she get so emotional while she held a baby? It wasn’t like she had never held a child before.

Maybe if she went into the hut and pretended to sleep, he wouldn’t bother her. Yes, that was a very wifely thing to do. That was what he deserved.

She yawned, the events of the day having taken a toll on her. She headed to the hut, which was located the farthest away from the others, without looking back. Bruno waited for her in front, with folded arms and the look of a soldier about to trap his opponent.

“Running from me?” he mocked.

“Chasing me?” she retorted.

He cocked his head, pointing his chin toward the crowd. “These people really like you.”

She turned her flashlight on, walked past him, and entered the hut. She held the small device with wobbly fingers, the beam of light skipping through the space. She recognized her oversized sleeping bag, which they’d promised to keep for her. They always waited for her return, even if for a short amount of time. A couple of bottles of water lay on thin, folded sheets that sat on top of her overnight duffel bag.

“I like you.” He followed her inside, his voice smooth and tempting.

She shined the light on his face. “You like me when I’m naked and squirming.”

It was supposed to sound like an accusation. Too late. He curved his lips into a suspiciously slow smile. Holding the flashlight, she was in darkness, and he was in the light.
How’s that for irony?

“I wasn’t going down that road, but, yes, I particularly like you when you are naked.” He gave a hearty chuckle. He stepped closer, and closer, and she backed up until she could feel the rough walls of the hut brushing against her back. “And squirming.”

The flashlight slipped from her hand and thudded on the dirt, shrouding them in darkness. She heard the sound of the batteries rolling on the ground.

Without any light, her senses heightened in such a way it was almost painful to inhale his scent, to feel the light brush of his fingers against her arms, to hear the humming from his hot breath.

“I want you to be mine,” his husky voice demanded. Her body urged her to oblige.

She should say no. Tell him to turn around and go to sleep.

Was it really what she wanted? She swallowed, and the dry lump transformed into a hot tingle. It zipped within her all the way down to her damp sex. The sound of her ragged breath muffled the noise from outside.

She choked on her words. “Yours?”

Bruno pulled her to him. Her body betrayed her and adjusted to his automatically. This was his answer. He wanted her, sexually. Hell, she wanted him sexually, too. How could she want him that much when he was so wrong for her? He had in his hands the power to change the lives of hundreds, yet…

He glided his fingers along the outline of her jaw and tilted up her chin, though they couldn’t see each other. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Rationalization drifted away. Even in the dark, Bruno still was in control.

“What’s on your mind, Addie?”

I’m trying to prevent myself from falling in love with you.
There was no short version, or downplaying. Because, let’s face it, her body betrayed her over and over. Her heart raced like a warhorse on a mission.

Despite his seemingly selfish ways, his abandonment of his mother and family, she had seen other sides of him. He had helped his sister with her learning disabilities, when he himself didn’t have much of an education. And the dog she befriended at the beach—no matter how he had criticized her—he had searched for it the next day and brought it to Camila. He was passionate, kind, and attentive.

She shuddered. She had not imagined she would ever describe him that way.

He leaned down so that his forehead touched hers. His hot breath fanned over her, and he asked, “Are you thinking about him?”

Him…? Him who?
Ah…Michael. Of course.
Reality pinched her. Did he want to prove something? “What does it matter?”

“It just does.” He slid both hands down to her butt and pulled her hips into him. She gasped when his hard-on pressed against her belly.
Damn him
.

What did he expect her to say? That her dead former boyfriend now seemed even more absent than before?

That she wanted Bruno, and she’d need an emotional self-intervention when he was done with her? He let out an impatient sigh, and his lips hovered over hers. The air was thick around them. She swallowed to curse the dryness away.

He slid his tongue out and licked her lips, with electrifying response. Their limbs and mouths searched for each other hungrily. The force, again. Making her act all sex starved and crazy. Making her pull off her tank top and help him do the same.

Her naked chest molded to his, and she moaned. Her breasts puckered in response.

He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth and disengaged for a moment. She was about to protest, when she registered him fumbling for his wallet. A smile tipped her lips. Of course. He was getting protection. Although…what kind of protection could she really use against the power he had over her?

She heard a zipping sound. He unfolded her sleeping bag and laid it somewhere near, and soon she was gloriously sandwiched between a thick layer of cotton-polyester and Bruno Duarte. She heard him ripping the foil packet open.

The darkness continued its aphrodisiac spell over her. She had to trust her other intensified senses. The sound of his belt when it reached the ground. His breath ragged next to her hair. The amplified
pop
when he stopped sucking her lower lip.

She arched her lower body against his cock, her panties already soaked. When he cupped her between her legs, she sucked in a breath, wanting to bask in every second of his touch. “You…are…” she gasped. He removed her shorts, and her panties quickly followed.

Deliciously hot.

Sexy as no one should be.

Mine… Right now, you’re mine.

He kissed her neck and nibbled on her jaw. “Who am I?”

He lay on top of her. She squirmed, brushing her naked body against his.

“You are…” She bit her lip when he inserted a finger inside her, and her moist walls clenched around it. She was afraid to move, or she would come instantly.

“Tell me.” He withdrew his finger in such a hurry, she couldn’t suppress a frustrated moan. What kind of game was he playing? She was bare and willing. “Say my name.”

“Bruno.” A demand.

He thrust inside her, deep and hard. This time, she didn’t need time to accommodate him. She immediately began to arch her hips, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. More, she wanted more…no stopping.

He intensified the rhythm, entering all the way, searching for her lips with his own, their fingers entwined. She spread her legs wider and clenched her inner muscles just in time for his last thrust before they both moaned in common agreement. Well, at least there was one thing they agreed on.

He moved off her, while her heart still raced like a marathon runner.

“Do you think we’ll ever make love on a proper bed?”

“I hope not.” He propped her on her side so he could spoon her.

Of course, he joked. Although the likely probability of them not having sex again, on a bed or not, hit her. They were getting closer to their goals. Well, he was to his. He had his father’s approval, and he could get even more money for the land.

He threaded his fingers in her hair. “I was jealous of Michael.”

“Jealous?” she repeated, trying to make sense of the word. Thinking, though, was a task, when he started a lustful massage on her scalp. Soaking in his invigorating strokes, she sighed. Heavily.

“It seems he still affects you.”

Did he? She let her head fall on the inside of his arm and enjoyed the intimacy, the togetherness. “Michael will always be special to me. He showed me a whole new world and offered me stability when I needed it. He didn’t deserve to die that way.”

Although she was in the dark, as habit she closed her eyes at the memory of that horrible late afternoon. The sun had just set, and Juracyr was coming back from the town where she usually sold her crafts to a store. That’s when it’d happened. “They wanted to assault Juracyr, and he didn’t let them.”

“What happened?”

“I was hiking in the woods and heard Juracyr screaming for help. He must have heard her, too, except he came from a different direction. I ran—and found them too late. The man who was about to rape Juracyr had just stabbed Michael.” Bruno held her closer against him and snaked his arm around her neck like a shield.

“The killer ran. I knelt down and placed Michael’s head on my lap. All I could hear was the sound of shoes smashing dry leaves. I looked around and grabbed a rock to throw in the man’s direction. I knew he was too far, but I had to do something.” She cleared her throat. “But when I grabbed a rock, it turned out to be a frog.” She had let it go, filled with frustration and hopelessness. “I was too late anyway. The guy rushed to his car and drove away.”

“I’m sorry.” He planted a warm kiss on her bare shoulder. She wished she could see his eyes. She’d seen his lusty gaze, his mocking grin, his frustrated expression. The several different ways he’d shown self-confidence and knowledge. But now…she really wanted to see how those two pools of melted coffee would look with a touch of sweetness.

He remained quiet for a long time, his mouth’s only purpose to gently kiss her hair. His fingers stroked her shoulders in a languid, relaxing massage. Although his touch seared her inside, it wasn’t sexually motivated.

She shifted on the sleeping bag until she faced him, her body within a whisper of touching his. The static made her feel the pull of his chest and leg hair, drawing her close. He sucked in his breath, and she assumed he struggled for the control she didn’t want him to find. Hers was long gone.

“You know, you shouldn’t be jealous. There’s no need.”

He planted small kisses on her shoulder. She arched against him, surprised by the speed of her desire skyrocketing inside her again. He trailed kisses from her shoulders to her neck, cupping her breasts with his hands.

She bit back a smile. How to fight the yearning? He took full advantage of her vulnerability and raised his own head. His hot breath fanned over her skin until he found her sensitive earlobe. “Addie, Addie… When will I stop wanting you?”

She bit her lip. And wondered the same thing.

…

Bruno got up and left the hut, trying to suppress a yawn. The blinding sun hit the ground as everyone went about their day. A few kids played soccer with a half-deflated, old soccer ball in an impromptu soccer field not too far from the huts. A group of women walked by, carrying wicker baskets filled with fruits and vegetables. He assumed there had to be a plantation somewhere close. They waved at him and smiled.

He massaged his lower back and glanced behind him. No sign of Addie. His back hurt from sleeping on the unforgiving ground, but he couldn’t complain. To have her in his arms, to fall asleep with her limbs shamelessly entangled with his, her body within reach…

He’d do it all over again. And again. Even if sleeping with her had him walking with a cane afterward.
Speaking of the devil
… Addie strolled toward him carrying a bowl of fresh fruit with a little boy walking by her side.

“Ready for breakfast?” She pointed at the selection of mangoes, bananas, and pears.

“We just picked those,” the little boy said with enthusiasm.

Bruno looked at the skinny but handsome little boy who sported a mischievous smile like boys his age should.

“This is Endi.”

Endi. The boy from the picture she’d shown him. “Nice to meet you.” He offered his hand.

The boy smiled and nodded, but instead of taking his hand, he showed an object he’d been holding behind him. “I have a sword.” The Indian spear didn’t differ from the colorfully patterned ones adult Kwanis sported. Maybe a bit smaller, but the sharp arrowhead was there, along with the wood-like spear made from fish.