burning slowly under her skin. The hours between them would not go fast enough.
She questioned again her decision to refuse to marry him. Had that been a truly stupid mistake? When Star had said Nova was crazy to let a great man get away, actually drive him away, Nova had countered with, “I’ve created a life I’m comfortable with, Star. I don’t know who I’d be if I married anyone, not just Joe. I need to be me. Not Mrs. Someone Else. I didn’t want to split up. He just wouldn’t settle for anything less than marriage.”
Star had snipped back with, “You’re just afraid to give up even a teeny bit of control.”
The businessman seated next to her finished skimming the paper he’d brought along. He folded it, stuffed it in the pocket in front of him, stroked his mustache and interrupted her gloomy thoughts, asking in Portuguese, “Have you been to Manaus before?”
“No. And I fear I don’t speak Portuguese very well.”
“Then let us speak English,” he said without missing a beat.
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