Reckless Night in Rio. Jennie Lucas
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“Just what I said,” Gabriel said quietly. “I need you.”
She swallowed. “Why?”
His dark eyes glittered in the flickering firelight. “Every other woman has been a pale shadow of you in every way.”
If her heart had been fluttering before, now it was frantically rattling against her ribs. Had she been wrong to leave him, fifteen months ago? Had she been wrong to keep Robby a secret? What if Gabriel’s feelings had changed, and all this time he’d cared for her? What if—
He leaned forward as his lips curved into a smile. “I need you to come work for me.”
Laura’s heart stopped, then resumed a slow, sickly beat.
Of course. Of course that was all he would want. He’d likely forgotten their one-night affair long ago, while she would remember it forever—in her passionate dreams, in the eyes of their son. Laura stared up at Gabriel’s dark, brutally handsome face. She saw the tension of his jawline, the taut muscles of his folded arms beneath his suit jacket.
“You must want it badly,” she said slowly.
He gave her a tight smile. “I do.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother coming back down the hall, holding Robby in one arm and a slice of wedding cake in her other hand. Laura sucked in her breath.
Robby. How could she have allowed herself to forget, even for an instant, that her son was counting on her to keep him safe?
Grabbing Gabriel’s hand, she pulled him out of the room, dragging him out of the house, away from prying eyes and into the freezing February air.
Outside in the wintry night, cars and trucks were wedged everywhere along the gravel driveway between their old house and the barn, strewn along the country road in front of their farm. Across the old stone walls that lined the road, white rolling hills stretched out into the great north woods, disappearing now into the falling purple twilight.
Behind them, next to the old barn, she could see the frozen water of their pond, gleaming like a silver mirror under the lowering gray clouds. Her father had taught all his daughters to swim there during the summers of their childhood, and even though Laura was now grown, whenever she felt upset, she would go for a swim in the pond. Swimming made her think of her father’s protective arms. It always made her feel better.
She wished she could swim in the pond now.
Laura looked down at her breath in the chilly air and saw the white smoke of Gabriel’s mingle with hers. She realized she was still holding his hand and looked down at his large fingers enfolding her own. The warmth of them suddenly burned her skin, sizzling nerve endings the length of her body.
She dropped his hand. Folding her arms, she glared up at him. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing. I’m not going to work for you.”
“You don’t even want to hear about the job first? For instance—” he paused “—how much it pays?”
Laura bit her lip, thinking of her bank account, which held exactly thirteen dollars—barely enough for a week’s supply of diapers, let alone groceries. But they’d get by. And she couldn’t risk Robby’s custody—not for something so unimportant as money! She lifted her chin fiercely. “No amount of money could tempt me.”
His lips quirked. “I know I wasn’t always the easiest man to live with—”
“Easy?” she interjected. “You were a nightmare.”
His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Now that’s the diplomatic Miss Parker I remember.”
She glared at him. “Find another secretary.”
“I’m not asking you to be my secretary.”
“You said.”
He looked down at her. His voice was dark and deep, his eyes burning though her with intensity. “I want you to spend a night with me in Rio. As my mistress.”
His mistress? Laura’s mouth fell open.
Gabriel continued to stare down at her with his inscrutable dark eyes, his hands in his pockets. She licked her lips.
“I’m…I’m not for sale,” she whispered. “You think just because you are rich and handsome you can have whatever you want, that you can pay me to fall into your bed—and go away the next morning with a check?”
“A charming idea.” A humorless smile traced his sensual mouth. “But I don’t wish to pay you for sex.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks went hot. “Then what?”
“I want you—” he moved closer, his hard-edged face impossibly handsome “—to pretend to love me.”
She swallowed. Then she tilted her head, blinking up at him in the fading light. “But thousands of girls could do that,” she said. “Why come all the way up here, when you could have twenty girls at your penthouse in Rio in four minutes? Are you insane?”
He raked his dark hair back with his hand.
“Yes,” he said heavily. “I am going slowly insane. Every moment my father’s company is in the hands of another man, every moment I know I lost my family’s legacy through my own stupidity, I feel I am losing my mind. I’ve endured it for almost twenty years. And I’m close now, so close to getting it back.”
She should have known it had something to do with regaining Açoazul. “But how can I possibly help you?”
He looked down at her, his jaw clenched. “Play the part of my devoted mistress for twenty-four hours. Until I close the deal.”
“How on earth would that help you close the deal?” she asked, bewildered.
He set his jaw. “I’ve hit a snag in the negotiations. A six-foot-tall, bikini-wearing snag.”
“What?”
Gabriel ground his teeth. “Felipe Oliveira found out I used to date his fiancée.”
“You did?” Laura said in surprise, then gave a bitter laugh. “Of course you did.”
“Now he doesn’t want me within a thousand miles of Rio. He thinks if he doesn’t sell me the company after all, I’ll go back to New York.” Gabriel looked at her. “I need to make him understand I’m not interested in his woman.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’d need me. Thousands of women would be happy to pretend to be in love with you. For free.” She took a deep breath, clenching her hands at her sides. “Some of them wouldn’t even have to pretend!”
He set his jaw. “They won’t work.”
She exhaled with a flare of her nostrils. “Why?”
“Oliveira’s fiancée…is Adriana da Costa.”
“Adriana da…” Laura’s voice trailed off, her eyes wide.
Adriana da Costa.
Laura could still see those cold, reptilian eyes, that skinny, lanky body. Gabriel had dated the Brazilian supermodel briefly in New York several years ago, while Laura was his live-in personal assistant. She could still hear Adriana’s pouting voice. Why do you keep calling here? Stop calling.
Find the whiskey, you stupid cow. Gabriel always gets thirsty after sex.
Laura cleared her throat. “Adriana da Costa, the bikini model.”
“Yes.”
“The one Celebrity Star magazine just called the sexiest woman alive.”
“She’s a selfish narcissist,” he said sharply. “And for the short time we were together, she was always insecure. Only