The waves rolled against their skin, pushing their bodies together as they stared at each other. Her eyes seemed to glimmer. With tears? Gabriel frowned. “Are you crying?”
“Of course not!” she said, rubbing her eyes.
He reached out to tilt her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re a terrible liar.”
She looked away. “Don’t women usually weep when you kiss them?”
Her tone was light, even sardonic. He felt as if he was in some strange dream as he looked down at her. This beautiful woman was Laura, and yet not Laura. “They usually weep when I leave.”
She flashed him a glance. “If they’re your employees, they’re probably weeping with joy.”
His lips tugged up into a grin against his will. Meu Deus. Even now, she could make him laugh, when all he could think of was dragging her back home, ripping off her tiny bikini and pulling her naked body into his bed. All he wanted was to be alone with her, to feel her soft limbs caress him, to pull her back into a red-hot kiss so explosive it burned him from within.
He would have her. Tonight.
I always knew the little mouse was in love with you.
He angrily shook away the memory of Adriana’s words. Laura didn’t love him. She couldn’t. She was too smart for that. It wasn’t love that existed between them. It was sex. Just sex. He shuddered. It would be, as soon as humanly possible.
“I’m taking you home,” he said. “To bed.”
The bravado fell from her beautiful face. She looked up, and her expression suddenly looked vulnerable. Young. The reflective waves of the water lit up her pale body, exposing her full curves, illuminating her beautiful face, which now seemed to hold new secrets.
“No,” she whispered. “Please. I’m not like you. Making love…it means something to me.”
Looking down at her beauty, Gabriel felt no mercy in his heart. She wanted him, as he wanted her. Why hold back? Why hesitate from taking their pleasure? Laura should belong to him, as she always had. She should be his. His unselfish act of letting her go last year had been a mistake.
And she’d had another man’s baby. Sudden possessiveness raced through his body like a storm. Thinking of another man touching Laura left him in a rage. He wanted to get the memory of the other man off her skin. To make her forget anyone else had ever touched her.
With iron self-control, he took her hand. He heard her soft intake of breath as she stared up at him, her lips deliciously parted. His gaze fell to her mouth, but kissing her wouldn’t be nearly enough. He led her out of the water and back to the sand. Stepping into his shoes, he grabbed his shirt, wadding it up in one hand.
“Where are we going?”
He glanced back at her. She looked as dazed as he felt. Her cheeks were flushed with passion, her lips bruised. “Home. Let Adriana believe we had to rush back to my penthouse.”
“For an emergency?”
“I told you.” He gave her a sensual, heavy-lidded look. “To bed.”
He saw her shiver under the hot sun. Blinking, she knelt to pick up her high-heeled shoes. “But it’s just a game,” she whispered, sounding as if she were talking to herself as much as him. “It’s not real.”
Yet Gabriel was no longer sure. She’d come to Rio as his pretend mistress. Now he wanted to make it true. Where did the fantasy end and reality begin?
As he led her past security and across the lower terrace, he heard the whispers of the crowd racing ahead of them, a murmur rising like a wave of music. Gabriel didn’t bother to glance at Felipe Oliveira or Adriana as he passed them. He was too infuriated by all the men staring at Laura. She did look beautiful with her long wet hair slicked back and beads of seawater sparkling on her skin like diamonds. And—Gabriel flinched—the yarn of her bikini was translucent when wet. Something he’d appreciated when they were alone, but now.
He bared his teeth at the other men as he led her across the terrace, a male predator protecting his chosen female. He climbed the stairs two at a time and entered the mansion, dripping water across the marble floors. As he led her toward the front door, he held her hand tightly. It felt so right in his. Too right.
He grabbed two towels from a uniformed attendant. “Tell my driver we are ready to depart.”
The man hurried away. Gabriel took Laura outside to wait in the warm sun, away from prying eyes. Kneeling before her, he skimmed one plush towel over her bare skin, over her legs, her arms, the plump fullness of her breasts. Rising to his feet, he licked his lips and realized he was breathing hard.
He saw her swallow. Felt her tremble.
“Gabriel,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “Please…”
The Rolls-Royce pulled in front of the mansion, and Carlos leaped out to open the door, looking dismayed at his boss’s early departure. He’d probably been playing dice with the other servants, Gabriel thought, but at this moment, he didn’t give a damn about any man’s pleasure but his own.
“Get in the car,” Gabriel ordered Laura, his voice sounding admirably civilized compared to the roaring animal he felt like inside. When she didn’t move, he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly into the backseat.
As the driver closed the door behind them, Laura ripped her arm from Gabriel’s grasp. “You don’t need to be so rude!”
“Rude?” he growled. “Yes, rude!”
Gabriel could tell she was hurt and angry. She thought he was being cruel. She didn’t know it was all he could do not to push her back against the leather seat, to lay her flat on her back and rip off the little triangles of bikini. That all he wanted to do was taste those luscious breasts, throw himself over her, fill her completely. He clenched his hands into fists, shuddering at the sensual images that overwhelmed him. He wanted her—now. And he almost didn’t care who saw them.
As Carlos started the engine, Gabriel forced himself to release her. He could wait until they got home. He could wait…
He repeated the mantra again and again as the car drove through the city. His body ached from the effort it took not to seize her in his arms. The slow drive though crowded streets, with police diverting traffic around sections closed for early evening parades, seemed to take forever.
Gabriel glanced at Laura sideways. The towel had slipped from her hands and the air-conditioning in the limo was no match for the way his temperature climbed every time he looked at her. Especially when he saw what the cold air was doing to her nipples beneath the bikini.
Water was still trickling from her wet hair, running slowly down her bare skin, down the valley between her large breasts. He wanted to run the edge of his fingertip down that trickle of water. He wanted to lap it up with his tongue. He wanted her spread naked across his bed, his body over hers, as he lowered his head to taste her, thrusting inside her, so deep, so deep.
As if she felt his gaze, she turned. Judging by the expression on her face, she hadn’t been having such sensual images of him—oh no. She wanted to skewer
