Читать книгу The Dreaming Of... Collection - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 55
ОглавлениеEllie felt as if something had been crushed inside her.
She kept pressing her hand to her chest, as if to hold the damaged part back together until it mended. But its sharp edges kept poking into her vitals.
It had been twenty hours since she’d run out of Rafael’s mansion at midnight...and yes, the irony wasn’t lost on her.
But she was no Cinderella and her prince had turned out to be a predator. As she should have expected, from all the improbabilities.
Ever since she’d fled the scene, she’d been counting the hours. The minutes. Waiting for the misery to subside, for the memory of everything she’d had with him to fade. But time only magnified everything and smashed the broken shards to smaller pieces.
Which was absolutely stupid...and that was precisely what she was. Anyone would consider her the dumbest woman on earth if they knew the speed with which and extent to which she’d been bowled over by Rafael. And that she’d gone further, done something she’d never done before. She’d trusted him. With her safety, with her heart, with...everything. She’d opened herself so totally, had been so completely unguarded, his unprovoked blow had caused that much damage.
It was pathetic to feel that way when she’d known him only hours. But she’d been so under his spell she’d felt she’d known him forever. Now she knew the truth. What she’d thought a perfect coming together had just been a cheap interlude between a naive moth and a bored flame.
But even knowing that, she hadn’t been able to stop crying. When she never cried. Tears flowed again every time a memory replayed with such acuteness and clarity. Each look, each touch, each word from him. The man she’d felt so attuned to, so connected to. Who’d turned out to be just another player, only one on a level she hadn’t known existed.
Not that that was an excuse. Everything inside her fluctuated from regret for all the beauty that had turned out to be a crude illusion to anger at him for being such a perfect fiend to humiliation that she’d been such an eager mark.
She’d had to run to the bathroom three times while playing with the kids so they wouldn’t see her tears. Not that she’d been able to hide her condition from their anxious eyes. But their frantic questions and hugs had made her feel worse, and angry enough at herself to rein in her rampant emotions.
For these orphaned or abandoned children to feel worried and sorry for her when it was they who depended on the goodwill and intermittent care of people like her was a slap that had roused her from wallowing in self-pity.
It also made her knock herself over the head for thinking of canceling her Friday-night entertainment. She wasn’t letting a hoarse voice, a puffy face and a broken heart stop her from giving the kids the weekly bedtime performance they’d come to crave over the past month.
She now announced that their entertainment was about to begin, and all the kids ran to their beds excitedly.
They were thirty-six in this ward, from seven to ten years old. She loved all one hundred and twenty kids in Casa do Sol Orphanage, but this ward was extra special and her most enthusiastic audience. And one boy really stood out. She’d clicked with him on so many levels from the first moment, too. But, unlike Rafael, she was sure Diego was who he seemed to be.
The eight-year-old now helped her make a final rundown of her props, put her phone in the portable dock and sound system, then raced back to his bed with a huge smile of anticipation on his face.
Once everyone was in bed, she started performing, complete with dramatic music and on-the-fly costume changes. She always gave them her version of fairy tales, and in this one, Snow White was a Robin Hood–like character with the Seven Dwarves as her swashbuckling sidekicks, and she saved Prince Charming from being turned into a heartless monster by the Evil Queen, who wanted him to be her consort.
Once deep into the story, she forgot everything as she jumped on beds, whirled and swooped and changed voices, wigs and clothes and had the kids kicking in bed with laughter.
“And they lived interestingly ever after.”
She took an exaggeratedly deep bow at the kids’ fervent applause as the music ended with a flourish.
After stowing all the props in her rolling suitcase, she went from bed to bed kissing and tucking the children in. As usual, she left Diego for last. This time she slipped him the eReader she’d promised him so he could read under the covers. He was The Book Gobbler, one of the things they had in common.
As Diego clung around her neck, he whispered in her ear, “Will you ask your friend to come a little earlier next time so he can visit us?”
She withdrew to look down at the dark-haired, brown-eyed boy, thinking he’d assigned her an imaginary friend like the one he’d invented for himself. Smiling, she kissed his smooth, olive-skinned cheek. “So what does my friend look like?”
“He looks like a superhero.”
“Does he wear a costume and cape?”
“No, he was wearing light blue jeans and a black jacket with a black T-shirt. And his left hand is in a dark blue splint.”
Okay. That was pretty detailed. She didn’t know Diego had such a knack for dressing his characters.
“That’s regular clothes. And the splint is proof he’s not invulnerable. So why do you say he looks like a superhero?”
“Because he must be seven feet tall and looks like Batman in his secret identity. He entered in the middle of your story and no one else noticed him. He put a finger on his lips, so I wouldn’t interrupt you. Is he your friend or your husband?”
“No one else noticed him, huh...?” The rest caught in her throat, all hairs standing on end. With the relative silence and stillness in the ward, she suddenly felt it. That aura.
She swung her head to the door in time to see a huge shadow separating from the darkness of the entrance vestibule.
Rafael.
Heaving up to her feet, blood didn’t follow to her head. She struggled to remain upright as he approached. And he was clapping...albeit with one of his hands in a splint, just as Diego had said.
“That was the best version of Snow White I’ve ever heard. And the most dynamic, entertaining performance I’ve ever seen. You missed your calling. You should be on stage.”
He was dressed as Diego had described. So casually chic and disarmingly handsome it was painful to behold his beauty. And he clearly hadn’t shaved since she’d seen him. His beard had turned him from a soul-stealing seducer to a heart-snatching pirate.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
Ignoring her anger, he gently swept a finger around one puffy eye and rasped, “I made you cry.”
Suppressing a shudder, she stepped away. “I made me cry. But I’m done crying. Answer my question.”
Instead of answering, his probing gaze left her to settle on Diego. “Thank you for not drawing attention to my entry and giving me the chance to watch Eliana’s performance. Is she always that fantastic?”
Diego nodded enthusiastically. “Always. She’s the only one who makes us laugh. And she’s the only one who makes me think.”
Something scalding came into Rafael’s wolf’s eyes as they swept to hers. “She’s the only one who makes me...do so many things, too.” He turned to Diego, extended his hand. “Rafael.”
The boy put his small hand in Rafael’s with all the decorum of a young prince meeting a vital new ally. “Diego.”
A painful tightness gripped her throat as Rafael shook the boy’s hand with utmost earnestness. It felt as if she was seeing two versions of Rafael, separated by the chasm of time and circumstance, past and present selves meeting. The way they regarded each other, the awareness in their eyes, as if each recognized something fundamentally the same about the other.
She blinked away the moisture. Where was this coming from? Rafael, the all-powerful tycoon, couldn’t have anything in common with an abandoned boy like Diego. Though she knew nothing about Rafael’s past, she couldn’t imagine he’d ever been as disadvantaged as Diego.
But...what had his childhood been like? How had he become this complex, irresistible force of nature...?
No. Not irresistible. Not to her, not anymore. And she didn’t care about his past or present. She didn’t want to know anything about him, or have anything to do with him.
“I asked Ellie if she could ask you to come again, just earlier so you could visit us for a while before bedtime.”
“It would be a pleasure and an honor, Diego.” He slanted her a glance. “If Eliana approves.”
Ellie tried not to gape at Rafael. It stunned her to see him treat Diego with such respect and regard. Especially after he’d snubbed her father so viciously last night. Before doing the same to her.
“Why do you call her Eliana?” Diego asked. “We all call her Ellie.”
“She is Eliana to me. Do you know what that name means?”
Diego shook his head vigorously.
“It means God has answered.”
“Answered what?”
“Prayers. So Eliana is God’s answer to prayers.”
Completely engrossed, Diego probed, “Whose prayers?”
“Her parents. Mine. And I have a feeling yours, too.”
Rafael’s eyes moved back to her, and the look in them, the way he’d said mine, made her forget how last night had ended in humiliation. But that only lasted for moments before she was back to wanting to rant that she never wanted to see him again.
But Diego clung around her neck with even more fervency than usual. “Please, let him come again.”
Her fury at Rafael intensified. But she couldn’t blast him in front of the starstruck boy, yet she couldn’t raise expectations she’d have to disappoint, either.
“We’ll see, sweetie. Go to sleep now. Or not.”
Forcing a conspiratorial wink, she hugged him one last time and got up before he argued.
Walking away, she struggled not to run out of the ward. It was even worse than she’d thought. All the kids were sitting up in bed, watching Rafael with utmost fascination. They’d never seen anyone like him in their lives. Their interest and eagerness made her curse Rafael even more. Then he made it worse, smiling and waving as he bid them good-night. They all chanted a delighted response.
The moment she closed the door behind them, she turned on him. “What kind of sick game do think you’re playing?”
“I never play any kind of game. I’m here to take you with me. I have a promise of untold pleasure to fulfill. And so do you.”
“Are you for real? No...don’t answer that. Just...”
“Senhor Moreno Salazar!”
She swung around at the excited call and found the nuns who ran the orphanage rushing closer, eyes fixed on Rafael, smiles so large they could have engulfed him whole.
Sister Cecelia, the one who’d called out, started speaking before they reached them. “Now that you’ve seen Ellie, if you’re amenable, we’d love to give you a tour of our orphanage. I know you didn’t have a chance to really see the children today, so you won’t get an accurate idea of the activities and facilities we have for them, but...”
Rafael waved away her anxious explanations. “I’ve seen enough. And I already know you’re the best since Eliana supports your establishment.” He produced a checkbook and pen, scribbled for moments before cutting out a check and handing it to Sister Cecelia. “This is only until you can give me a more comprehensive list of your needs and plans.”
The woman took the check dazedly, looking down at it with the other two nuns squeezing closer to get a look, too.
Their collective gasps told Ellie it was an obscene amount. At least, to mere mortals. To him, a man who juggled billions, everything was pocket change.
“But...Senhor Moreno Salazar...this is...is...”
“Just something to get you started on those projects you told me you’ve been forced to put off for lack of funding.” He handed her a business card. “These are my personal numbers. Call me when you’re ready to discuss your projects in detail. And please, feel free to contact me anytime with any problems concerning the children. If you don’t have project managers, accountants and attorneys you trust, or if you can’t afford any, mine are at your disposal.”
The sisters fell over themselves thanking Rafael for his incredible generosity. He waved away their thanks and shook their hands, assuring them he’d make more visits. Then he turned to Ellie, gesturing for her to precede him out of the building.
Feeling as if she’d fallen into another dimension, she walked ahead. Sister Cecelia fell in step beside her. Rafael followed with the other two flanking him.
“Where did you find this angel, Ellie?” Sister Cecelia all but swooned as she kept snatching glances at said angel.
So not even nuns were immune to Rafael’s charms. She’d bet nothing that breathed would be.
Biting her tongue so she wouldn’t put fallen before angel, she smiled vaguely, diverting the conversation to weekend plans as they made their way out of the orphanage.
The sisters stood at the door waving and sighing until she and Rafael turned the corner. Once they did, she lengthened her steps, wanting nothing but to escape him.
Without even trying, his longer strides kept him by her side, his imposing figure parting the pedestrians around them on the sidewalk like Moses parted the Red Sea.
Finally, out of breath, she ground to a halt and turned on him. “What?”
In answer, he just swept her up in his arms and kissed her.
Just like his first kiss, there were no preliminaries. Just off the deep end into devouring passion. And like they had in that isolated corridor, her senses sang at his feel and taste. The abrasion of his bristling beard and splinted hand stoked the fire that not even his mistreatment had doused, clamoring downtown Rio disappearing around her.
Then the images lodged into her brain. Of him looking at her as if he didn’t know her, walking away without a word then disappearing with that woman...
She tore her lips away, struggling until she made him put her back on her feet. But he wouldn’t let her escape the cage of his embrace.
She glared up at him. “What was all that about? Is making huge, empty promises to vulnerable people the way you get your kicks?”
“I never make empty promises.”
“Sure, because you intend to come back to visit an orphaned boy. Because you intend to place all your resources at the disposal of destitute nuns in a backstreet orphanage.”
“That’s exactly what I will do.”
The imperious conviction with which he said that! Last night, she would have believed him without reservations. She would have had as many stars in her eyes as the kids and nuns had when they looked at him. She would have believed him to be the superhero or the angel they believed he was. He’d been even more to her. The sum total of her fantasies. Then he’d walked away and slapped her with the truth. His truth.
The horrible part was that even knowing it, she couldn’t feel it. Let alone see it. He felt and looked sincere and forthright. Not to mention even more gorgeous. The harsh shadows of the beard and what looked like haggardness made him devastating. Even the casual clothes that were nothing like his impeccable attire last night made him more ruggedly sexual. She felt downright dowdy in comparison.
His left arm holding her, the splint digging deliciously into her lower back, he gently swept her bangs away from her eyes. “You were breathtaking in that evening gown. But in this sweater and jeans, with your face scrubbed clean and your hair swinging behind you like a spirited mare’s tail, you look even more...edible. And I’m starving for you.”
She pushed against him harder, making him release her this time. “How do you do this trick? When you appear to read my mind? It must be your handiest one in getting stupid chicks like me to fall in your arms.”
His lips thinned disapprovingly. “First, you’re the very opposite of stupid. Second, I’m not interested in ‘chicks.’ I want only you to fall in my arms. Third, it’s not a trick. We are on the same wavelength.”
“Yeah, sure. How nice. Well, I can’t say it was nice seeing you again. I would have rather broken a toe.”
Knowing she sounded childish, she flounced away. He fell into step with her at once.
“Come with me. We need to talk.” She turned to blast him and he added, “And to have each other.”
His words, his tone painted such erotic images—Ellie winced with longing.
But she needed to settle one thing. “Listen—about that. Thank you for what you did last night. Or what you didn’t do. Whatever the reason you did pull back, I’m grateful.”
He brooded down at her. “I told you why I pulled back.”
“Yeah, for me...and all that. I said I don’t care why you did it, but I’m thankful anyway. It would have been a far worse mess if you hadn’t. But you can drop the act now.”
“This is no act.”
She exhaled in exasperation. “I don’t blame you for walking away, okay? It’s what every man should do when he realizes he’s dealing with a naive fool who’ll be more trouble than she’s worth. It’s only natural you’d go for the more beautiful, sophisticated woman who actually looks like she’s out of her teens, who doesn’t say, ‘Oops, I didn’t meant to go that far that fast,’ then ask you to postpone taking your pleasure until she’s ready. But what I don’t understand is why you’re back. If the redhead you spent the night with didn’t satisfy you, and you’re wishing you’d stuck with your first, if inferior, choice, I’m sorry. My temporary insanity has already lifted.”
“I spent the night alone, suffering the most agonizing sustained arousal I’ve ever experienced. And you were and will remain my only choice. After all, I choose only the absolute best.”
God, how did he do this? How did he sound so...convincing?
Wanting to smack herself for wanting to believe him still, she smirked. “A likely story. But whatever the real one is, just leave me alone. As you partner so unkindly pointed out, I’m not in your league.”
“Eliana...”
“Taxi!”
She streaked away from his side as the cab she’d yelled for skidded to a halt, as usual barely missing her. Cabdrivers in Brazil had perfected the art of almost hitting their passengers while stopping to pick them up.
Before Rafael could detain her, she’d jumped into the cab, counting on the driver to make it impossible for him to catch up. The driver didn’t disappoint her. Even before she told him her address, he screeched away as if to continue a rally race.
She snatched a look backward as they shot through the mayhem that was Rio’s evening traffic and saw Rafael standing like a monolith, feet planted apart, hands fisted at his sides, looking the image of volcanic frustration.
Biting down on the urge to yell for the driver to take her back to him, she slumped in her seat. Buckling her seat belt, she tried to let being knocked about by the nerve-racking driving and the subsequent cacophony of horns and road rage distract her.
But his face was all she saw; his taste remained on her tongue, his breath still flaying her cheeks, his hands and hardness imprinted on every inch of her flesh.
She groaned with the severity of the phantom sensations, with craving the real thing. But she’d put an end to any possibility of that. He must have expected she’d fall into his arms again, and now that she hadn’t, he’d walk away. For good this time. Which was what she hoped...because any more exposure would compound the damage, scar her permanently.
She suddenly hurtled forward before being brutally yanked back by her seat belt. It took her petrified moments to realize the accident she’d been anticipating hadn’t finally happened. It was only the taxi coming to a violent stop in front of her apartment building in Ipanema.
After paying the driver, and thanking him for scaring her enough to take her mind off Rafael, she left the taxi on jellified legs. They hadn’t solidified much by the time she entered her one-bedroom apartment on the twenty-sixth floor.
She’d fallen in love with this place the moment she’d seen it. A beachfront unit with wonderful northern exposure, the apartment was high enough to afford her magnificent views of Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas in daylight, and of the glittering Rio skyline at night.
Finding this place had mitigated her reluctance to be in Brazil. She hadn’t wanted to move here, but two months ago, her father had begged her to join him while he pursued the partnership with Rafael. She’d agreed on the condition that she wouldn’t stay with him in his villa in Copacabana. He’d been crestfallen, since he’d thought this would be a chance to have her back in his nest after she’d moved out of his Marin County home over a year ago.
Knowing how much he missed being a father hen to her, she’d almost weakened on the living arrangements. But as long as he had her at home, he was content. She didn’t want him content. She wanted him lonely, so he’d do something about the gem he had right under his nose, the gorgeous fifty-two-year-old Isabella Da Costa, who’d been his loyal PA for the past four years.
Whenever she encouraged him, her father reiterated that he was a one-woman man, and he’d lost that woman. And every time she pointed out that twenty years was too long to be alone, he insisted he wasn’t alone. He had her. So she made sure he didn’t, at least half of the time. Knowing how dependent he was on her for companionship, she hoped it would force him to look for it elsewhere.
But even though she’d been making headway, almost getting him to admit his attraction to Isabella, he kept insisting it wouldn’t be fair to a woman to give her less than the whole heart he’d given her mother. But she knew Isabella would settle for any corner of his heart, and she was certain that once he left the door to his heart ajar, his smitten PA would take it over completely. He was the most loving man on earth and in time he’d give his all to the woman who loved him.
So here she was, staying out of his way, hoping he’d get it on with Isabella. She wasn’t giving up hope. And neither was Isabella.
But up until last night, she’d always felt she was the older one, dealing with an emotionally ambivalent youngster. Being untouched by passion until then had made her coolly cerebral as she sat in judgment, giving sage advice.
Then Rafael had happened.
Now everything she knew about herself and the world had been rewritten, giving her true empathy for her father’s turmoil. If only she hadn’t had to gain that insight at such a steep price.
Leaning on the door after she closed it, she looked around the foyer. She’d miss this place. But she’d leave right away. Without telling her father. Once back in San Francisco, she’d explain everything, and that there was no point in him staying in Brazil any longer. Rafael wouldn’t give him even the minor business he’d promised her when he’d been having fun at her expense. She’d known mixing sex and business would end badly. She just hadn’t thought it would go that bad, that soon.
Exhaling dejectedly, she took off her belt purse as she entered the living room...and almost keeled over in shock.
Rafael was sitting in the middle of the floral couch, his jacket discarded, his T-shirt stretched tautly over his massive chest. From the way his muscled arms were spread over the back of the couch, and those long, powerful legs were stretched out on the coffee table, he looked as if he’d been there for hours.
“How...?”
That was all she could say before she slumped against the wall, not knowing how she remained standing.
He answered her aborted question. “I ran. I took shortcuts that ensured I’d arrive long before your taxi.”
“You ran?” she choked. “You’re not even out of breath.”
“I’m in very, very good shape.”
He could say this again. Her gaze slid hungrily over his body before it faltered, stopped then slammed up back to his as she burst out, “How did you enter my apartment?”
“My background in crime is very, very handy.”
So that had been true. He’d once been a gang member...or worse. Which did explain that lethal edge to him. She wondered how deadly he had been. Or still was. She also wondered why she wasn’t in the least afraid of him. His presence here didn’t frighten or even alarm her. It just annoyed her. And if she was totally truthful...thrilled her.
But then he just had to exist to do that. Even now...
Exasperated with herself more than him, she harrumphed. “That’s all you have to say? You used your criminal creds to con your way past the concierge, then to pick my locks?”
He inclined his head in utmost tranquility. “Yes.”
“Well, marathon man, you can run out the same way you ran in. I have nothing more to say to you.”
He spread himself out even more comfortably. “But I have something to say to you. I realized I missed telling you the one relevant thing—why I walked away.”
She teetered away from the wall’s support but found her legs were still rubbery. “You found a woman that appealed to you more.”
“As I said before, no woman has or will ever appeal to me more than you....”
“Oh, please.”
He heaved up from his deceptively relaxed pose and in three endless strides was, like last night, plastering her against the wall. “That’s all I aim to do—all I will do—please you. And pleasure you and cater to your every need.”
“Rafael...”
He clamped his mouth over hers, swallowed her gasp and plunged deep. Delight went off like fireworks through every nerve ending as his hard length impacted her, as his tongue thrust into her recesses, all mental faculties shutting down.
It was he who finally raised his head, cradling hers in the crook of his arm, his eyes endless silvered twilights.
Then he took her hand, lying limply over his chest, and guided it down. Her gaze followed, her whole body lurching as he placed it over the huge hardness tenting his pants.
“You feel this? See it? That was how obviously turned on I was as I took you into the ballroom last night.”
She hadn’t noticed, because she’d been too busy looking for her father. But she did remember how his arousal had remained blatantly apparent through the more relaxed suit pants all the time in his study.
“I didn’t care who saw it. But not even finding myself faced with your father...deflated me. I didn’t want to get introduced to a man I’ll work with in that state—especially when said man happens to be your father. I didn’t know how to handle it so I walked away. It was immature and tactless, but once it was done, I didn’t know how to undo it.” His lips hovered over hers and his breath singed her face. “I waited for you to come to me, so you’d advise me how to fix my faux pas. But you didn’t.”
“So you left with another woman.” She moaned as he bent his knees to thrust against the junction of her thighs.
“I didn’t. When she steered me outside I just kept going until I went back to our place. I thought you’d rejoin me. When you didn’t, I thought you’d gotten angry and left and thought it was just as well. If you’d come back, I would have taken you right there and then. Ever since, I’ve been investigating you.”
She finally ducked out of the prison of his seduction. “I thought my details didn’t matter.”
“They didn’t, until I had to find you. But I learned so much more about you being in your home.”
Embarrassment suddenly struck her at having this immaculate entity in her messy abode. “It’s a rental. But it sure must be a novelty for you, being in a packrat’s place.”
His lips crooked in a smile of such indulgence. “You are a collector, aren’t you? But since this isn’t one of your permanent homes, it means you travel with your mementos.”
“Yeah, I unpack them first thing and have them covering every available surface and hanging on every wall as soon as I get anywhere I intend to stay longer than a month. And tidy is something no one could accuse me of being....”
He covered the distance she’d put between them, pulling her back into his arms. “I love your mess. I’ve had painstaking order my whole life. Anywhere I lived was minimalist. I do everything according to sparse equations. Then I entered your home and it was as if a warm breeze swept over me, dispelling the cold I carry within me. Everything here tells a meticulously detailed story of who you are, who you love, what matters to you. And it’s just exquisite. Like you.”
The barrage of beauty spilling from him had her dissolving in his arms. “God, where did you learn to...talk that way?”
“I never did. It just comes out of me when I’m with you. And I need you to be as spontaneous with me. I can’t bear the walls you’ve erected between us. I need your passion-hued eyes to melt me with your all-out appreciation again.”
“Passion-hued...” she repeated on a sigh.
He was too much. And she wanted him too fiercely.
She sighed again. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Confusion crept into his eyes. “Do what?”
“Have sex.”
