Читать книгу Back In The Brazilian's Bed - Susan Stephens, Susan Stephens - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

IGNORING DANTE’S OFFER to link arms, she walked ahead. This wasn’t a personal expedition, this was business.

Really?

Dante didn’t need to know that just being within touching distance of him made her heart go crazy, or that she beginning to feel the excitement of carnival thaw the ice around her heart. She hadn’t done this for ages—walked in the city for no better reason than to have fun. She hadn’t felt this free for years. Her gaze was darting around like a hermit let out of a cave as she desperately tried to soak up all the sights and sounds and smells at once.

She felt drunk on them, elated, after the hushed silence of her brother’s luxury hotel, and for a moment she was so wrapped up in events around her that she stopped walking altogether and got jostled along by the crowd. She almost lost her balance and then a steadying hand rescued her—Dante’s. She sucked in a noisy breath, glad that the ruckus from the crowd drowned it out. Even that briefest of touches was a warning of how receptive she still was to Dante.

She shouldn’t have come here with him, she fretted as she made for some shadows beneath the awning of a shop. Carnival in Rio was the highest-octane party in the world. No one came to carnival to discuss dry business deals or to cement business relationships. If couples talked at all, their faces were close and their eyes were locked on each other.

The music, the colour, the spectacle, the noise, the heat of the sun and the warmth of the cobbled street beneath her feet, combined with the scent of cinnamon and spices, made a riotous feast for the senses, and she had been on an austere diet. Appealing to her senses was the very last thing on her agenda for today. Logic and facts were all she needed to make the Gaucho Cup a success.

But she was here. And with him. Get over it. Get out there and make the most of it.

‘Hold on,’ Dante cautioned, as she followed a sudden impulse to plunge into the crowd. ‘It gets wild from here.’

Like she didn’t know that—though anything was wild compared to the way she’d been living. She exulted in the beat of the approaching drums as they grew louder. Maybe she wasn’t so dead inside after all. She wasn’t—she wasn’t dead at all. In fact, she had to fight the urge to go along the crowd and lose herself in the echo of a different life.

‘Karina!’

Dante’s shout brought her to her senses just in time. Of course she wouldn’t have followed that impulse, and of course she held back. She knew better than to let herself go these days because she knew where that led.

They had reached a small square. The crowd had moved ahead of them, leaving just the two of them on the street. Dante was leaning back against a wall, watching her with a puzzled expression on his face. His forearms were crossed over his powerful chest, and somewhere along the way he’d removed his jacket and tie. However hard she tried to look away, she couldn’t, and when she tried desperately hard to blank her mind to the image of a ridiculously good-looking man, she failed there too.

Then she noticed that an elderly couple had stopped to watch them, as if they had somehow created a mini-drama to be played out in silence between them. She quickly dragged her attention from Dante, only to see the old lady wink at her. She wanted to explain that there was nothing between them, but that wouldn’t have been very professional of her so she smiled instead. The elderly couple were having such a happy day—why spoil it for them? But if her feelings were so obvious to them, were they obvious to Dante?

He smiled at the old couple too. He could be charming when he wanted. And then the crowd thickened once more and the elderly couple disappeared into the throng, while Dante stood in front of her to protect her as the crowd surged past.

‘I can look after myself,’ she protested, when he put an arm around her to draw her close.

‘Is chivalry out of fashion these days?’

His look was mocking. She responded in kind. ‘Chivalry? That’s not a word I readily associate with you.’

‘Why not?’ he demanded, looking at her keenly.

She looked away. She didn’t want to get into it. They were here in the middle of carnival with nowhere else to go. She had to make the best of it, and with more than two million people milling about on the streets of Rio it was important to stay close.

The crowd pushed them together as they walked along. Her body tingled each time she touched Dante. It was a distracting client relationship tool, she told herself sternly. Cold emptiness had been her companion for so long she felt each light brush as if it were an intentional touch. And then he was distracted by one of the beautiful young samba dancers and her stomach squeezed tight as she watched them exchange kisses on both cheeks like old friends. She carefully masked her feelings when he came back to her.

‘My apologies for not introducing you, Karina.’

She shrugged it off, but Dante wasn’t fooled. ‘Are you jealous?’ he probed with amusement.

‘Certainly not. Why would I be?’ she demanded, as a little green imp stabbed her with its pitchfork.

Dante’s smile broadened infuriatingly as he took her arm to steer her through the crowd. ‘We must head for the main square where all the performers are gathering.’

More choice for him?

Whatever Dante did or didn’t do with half the girls in Rio was no business of hers. Carnival was full of beautiful women. It was a showcase. It was Dante’s hunting ground. There wasn’t a samba school in the city that wasn’t represented, and the samba beauties could swivel their bodies to stunning effect. All the men were transfixed by them, and all the girls played up to the most famous man of all: the infamous Dante Baracca.

She was jealous.

She was not!

‘Karina...’

‘Yes?’

As Dante turned to look at her she was determined he wouldn’t see, not by so much as the flicker of an eyelash, that she was affected by him, and more than she could ever have anticipated.

‘Stay close,’ he advised.

That proved impossible when a gang of young girls mobbed him, and she ended up defending him. They wanted his autograph, and, by the look of it, his clothes. Elbowing her way through the scrum, she spread out her arms in front of Dante. ‘Senhor Baracca has an important appointment to keep, but I noticed a television crew around the corner—’ Barely were the words out of her mouth when the young girls screamed with excitement and ran off.

Dante was amused. ‘When I need a bodyguard I’ll know who to call.’

‘It will cost you extra,’ she warned him dryly, moving on.

Dante was right about things getting wild. The decorated floats had arrived and everyone was excited as they trundled into view. ‘Your safety’s my responsibility,’ he explained, when he yanked her close.

‘And you’re my honoured client,’ she reminded him, pulling away. ‘If anyone gets protected here, it’s you—and you haven’t paid my fee yet,’ she said dryly.

He laughed. The first honest, open laugh she’d heard from him so far.

‘You’re one tough lady.’

‘Believe it, Dante. You became my responsibility from the moment I agreed to accompany you to the carnival, and I won’t let any harm come to you.’

‘And I will allow none to come to you,’ he assured her with an intensity that made her blink.

Did the same rule apply these days to the women in his bed?

‘I can look after myself,’ she repeated, wondering if her treacherous heart could beat its way out of her lying mouth. Having Dante this close made her doubt everything—her willpower, her powers of reasoned thought...

His husky laugh put an end to her brief moment of panic. It coincided with some more girls recognising him and crowding round. His black eyes mocked her when they went on their way, and he shrugged as he excused himself. ‘They said they knew me.’

‘I’m sure they do,’ she agreed. ‘Please, excuse me if I’m interrupting your congregation in the act of worship.’

He laughed again—a wolf laugh, sharp and faintly threatening. ‘You are jealous. Why fight it, Karina?’

‘May I suggest we move on?’ she said coolly.

Another few yards on and a girl dancing on a float called out to Dante. All the men were agog as they stared at her. She was beautiful. Wearing feathers and sparkles and not much more, it was no wonder Dante was so spoiled when every woman laid it on a plate for him.

Including her, Karina remembered, firming her jaw as Dante swung his arm around her shoulders.

‘Sorry,’ he said again, with a smile that could melt the stoniest of hearts.

She resisted the temptation to melt at his feet. ‘Please, don’t worry about me. There are plenty of distractions here that prevent me watching you baste your ego.’

‘Ah, Karina,’ he growled softly, ‘have you forgotten that I’m your honoured client?’

‘I have forgotten nothing. We signed a contract,’ she reminded him crisply, ‘so I’ve got your business.’

‘So you don’t need to try?’ Dante suggested with an amused look.

‘Where business is concerned, I can assure you of my full attention. Where anything else is concerned?’ She shrugged.

That was the end of that conversation as they were forced into silence by one of the samba bands marching past. The rhythm was infectious, making it impossible to remain tense. Everyone around them had started dancing. The performers and their supporters had put so much effort into the parade even she allowed herself to respond to their energy. It occurred to her as she started dancing that at one time she would have been up there on a float, dancing along with the best of them.

‘This is good, Karina.’

Her glance flashed up to Dante.

‘Watch and learn, because this is exactly what I want you to re-create on my ranch.’

‘Carnival?’ She stared up at him in surprise.

She couldn’t help noticing how attractive Dante looked when his lips pressed down in wry agreement. ‘I’m not asking for too much, am I?’ he probed.

He was asking for the world—and he knew it. Carnival took a year to plan, and she had a matter of weeks.

‘After all, I’m paying for the best.’

He shrugged again as he said this, and his tone of voice had changed from coaxing to rather more calculating as he added, ‘I’m paying for the best, so I expect the best.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed, relaxing into this return to business, even as she wondered if it could possibly last. ‘The impossible I can do.’

‘Miracles might take a little longer?’ he suggested. ‘You will have to work fast.’

There was no leeway in that statement, and she prided herself on always doing the best job faster than anyone else. Dante had turned away to throw a roll of banknotes onto a passing float, reminding her that all the performers were collecting money for charity. People who often had very little themselves worked hard all year to raise money during the parade, which was what made carnival so special. Locating all the cash she had, she tossed it onto the float. She would never lose sight of what this city had done for her. Working here had saved her. The vitality and the energy of Rio de Janeiro had lifted her, giving her barely enough time to brood or think back.

Until now. Dante would never change, she reflected as another group of dancing girls gathered around him. They were all exquisitely dressed and very beautiful, while Dante appeared like a dark pagan god in their midst. She had never felt more like a dowdy grey sparrow as she waited for him outside the circle of girls. If only she’d taken time to change out of her formal business suit, though something told her that more than the suit would have to go if she was going to do business successfully with Dante. She would have to find some of her missing joie de vivre—and stand up to him at every twist and turn.

She gave a start when he turned to look at her. Angling her chin, she made as if to leave. She couldn’t find it in her heart to blame the girls for loving Dante when his ridiculously handsome image appeared on every Thunderbolt poster in the city, and he looked even better in the flesh, but she was determined to get on with this research project, rather than indulge his slightest whim.

How was her determination to appear disinterested in Dante as anything other than a client going so far?

Not so well. Dante Baracca was back in her life, whether she wanted him there or not, and now it was up to her to harness the tornado and make it co-operate with her vision of how carnival could be adapted to suit the confines of a ranch.

‘I’ll make sure we enjoy some quality time together so we can have a proper chat about my plans,’ Dante reassured her when he returned to her side.

‘My plans will take a little time to formulate,’ she responded mildly. Dante had a samba girl hanging from each arm. She made no comment when he shooed the girls away.

‘We will discuss my plans shortly,’ he said.

‘I’m prepared to consider your suggestions,’ she said, and emphasised, ‘Unless it’s your way to pay a dog and bark yourself?’

His mouth curved in a grin. ‘This new business partnership should be interesting.’

‘Exactly as my brother predicted,’ she confirmed, turning away.

‘Your brother?’

‘Shall we get on? Time is short. We should head for the main square,’ she reminded him.

Dante drew her into a doorway as the previous year’s samba queen danced past. The noise from the accompanying drums was like thunder, and for a few seconds she was glad to lose herself in someone else’s moment, but then the girl stopped to put on a special dance for Dante. A leopard never changed its spots, she mused wryly as Dante tucked a roll of notes into the waistband of the girl’s thong.

‘Turning into a prude, Karina?’

‘Miss Prim?’ she threw back at him. She shrugged and smiled as the girl with the flawless body danced on her way. ‘You do what you like. It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘Such a shame,’ Dante murmured, his dark glittering eyes staring deep into hers. ‘I rather thought you might keep me in line.’

‘I think you’d enjoy that too much.’

His lips pressed down. ‘You never used to be such a killjoy.’

And he was the reason she’d changed, she thought.

No sooner had she dispensed with this latest salvo from Dante than a good-looking guy stopped in front of her and started dancing. Her first impulse was to smile and move on, but then it occurred to her that if Dante could flirt and tease without restriction, why couldn’t she?

She was about to find out, Karina guessed. Judging by the look on Dante’s face, what was good for the goose definitely wasn’t good for the gander. Then another woman—who, having recognised him, began to dance in front of him—distracted Dante, and with a look in her direction he brought the woman into his arms. Retaliation was one thing, but she had no intention of cosying up to her own partner, and had to content herself with covertly watching Dante prove just how good a man could look when he had been born with the rhythm of Brazil in his veins.

This was carnival where anything was possible. Yes. Dance with the devil and you would get burned, she added silently when Dante brushed against her. She knew he was teasing her deliberately, he always had, but she refused to respond and danced on, though Dante made her partner look like a beardless boy.