Шантель Шоу – Postcards From Rio: Master of Her Innocence / To Play with Fire / A Taste of Desire (страница 19)
Clare’s immediate instinct was to protect Becky and she stood in front of her and glared at Diego. ‘Keep away from my sister. I know you work for Rigo. And this man—’ she indicated the man who had boarded the plane with Diego ‘—is one of the kidnappers who met me at the cave.’
Diego shook his head. ‘Clare, it’s all right. Miguel is my friend from many years ago.’ He put his hand on her arm and swore when she hit him. He saw genuine fear in her eyes and it hurt him more than it should to realise she was afraid of him.
‘You crazy little wildcat,’ he growled. ‘I kept you safe on the journey to Torrente and spent two days up to my neck in mud. You let me believe you were a nun and made me feel guilty for wanting you. You’ve cost me a rare diamond worth a fortune. And, worst of all, I haven’t drunk a single beer since I had the dubious pleasure of meeting you. But, even after all of that, you still don’t trust me.’
He threw off his hat and seized her in his arms, holding her wrists behind her back so that she could not fight him as he lowered his face to hers. ‘So I guess I have nothing to lose,’ he muttered against her lips before he captured her mouth in a punishing kiss that demanded her total subjugation, demanded her soul—and laid claim to her heart.
Clare’s common sense told her not to respond to the kiss, but she was outvoted by her body that capitulated with shameful willingness to Diego’s mastery. She melted into him, seduced by the hardness of his muscles and sinews and the strength of his whipcord body pressed against hers. He was so much taller than her and, with a muttered oath, he lifted her off her feet to bring her mouth level with his and tangled his hand in her hair to prevent her from trying to escape.
But Clare was burning up in the wildfire heat of Diego’s hunger. His mouth was utterly addictive and she wrapped her arms around his neck to allow him to increase the pressure of his lips sliding over hers as he deepened the kiss and coaxed her tongue into an intimate dance.
Reality faded. After everything that had happened in the past few days, Clare no longer knew what reality was. But Diego felt real and solid and nothing else seemed to matter except that he brought her senses alive and made her want to leave behind her safe, sensible life and take a leap into the unknown.
When he tore his mouth from hers and set her back on her feet she stared at him dazedly, slowly becoming aware once more of the rumble of the plane’s engines and the realisation that Diego looked furious.
He pushed her down into a seat and leaned over her. ‘I swear you would test the patience of a saint. If I hear another word from you for the rest of the flight I’ll show you just how unsaintly you make me feel, anjinho.’
‘CLARE, WAKE UP. The helicopter has come for you.’
‘What...helicopter?’ Struggling to surface through a haze of sleep, Clare forced her eyes open and looked groggily at her sister sitting next to her. She remembered they were on the plane, but the Dakota’s engines were silent. ‘When did we land? We’re at Manaus Airport, I suppose.’ Memories of their narrow escape from the kidnappers reminded her that her rescue mission would not be completed until her sister was safely back home. ‘I doubt there are direct flights from here to London so we’ll have to catch a connecting flight to Rio before we can fly to England.’
‘Calm down. We’re in Rio,’ Becky told her. ‘We flew through the night from Torrente and landed a few hours ago. It’s morning now. You’ve slept for twelve hours, but Diego didn’t want to disturb you.’
Fat chance, Clare thought sardonically. She found his brand of raw sexual magnetism deeply disturbing. ‘Where is Diego, anyway?’ She glanced around the empty plane.
‘He had to go to his office. Before he left, he arranged for me to fly first class to London. My flight leaves soon, which is why I decided to wake you to say goodbye.’
Clare noted that her sister looked remarkably well after her kidnap ordeal. They had both shed tears of relief as the Dakota had flown away from Torrente and the realisation had sunk in that the danger was over. Becky had kept saying how brave Clare had been, but her praise had increased Clare’s sense of guilt that she would never have made it to Torrente without Diego and she should have trusted him when he had done so much to protect her.
‘Surely Diego has booked us both on to the flight to England?’ She remembered his anger when she had accused him of being a member of Rigo’s criminal gang. ‘Or does he expect me to sit in the luggage hold?’
Becky laughed. ‘You must have been in a deep sleep if you don’t remember that you’ll be staying in Brazil to work for the Cazorra Corporation. Diego told me you are going to run a PR campaign for an associate company he is opening in Rio under the brand name of Delgado Diamonds, which his business partner launched so successfully in Europe.’
‘Just a minute...’ Clare tried to make sense of her sister’s words but Becky carried on talking.
‘I told Dad about your plans when I phoned home to let him know we’re both safe and he’s excited that it will be a fantastic opportunity for A-Star PR. Running an advertising campaign for a huge international company like the Cazorra Corporation will really open doors for the A-Star agency. And it’s all down to you, Clare.’ Becky gave Clare a hug. ‘Dad thinks you’re amazing, and so do I. You saved my life and I’m so pleased you’re being rewarded with the chance to further your career, as well as spend time with Diego.’
‘I’m not...’
‘It’s all right; you don’t have to tell me anything.’ Becky misunderstood Clare’s attempt to interrupt. ‘It was clear from the way Diego kissed you last night that there’s something going on between you personally as well as professionally. Just be careful. Diego Cazorra has heartbreaker stamped all over him.’
‘Becky! Will you listen to me?’ Clare’s frustration bubbled over. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m flying back to England with you.’ She searched through her rucksack and in exasperation tipped its contents on to her lap. ‘I know my passport was in here.’
‘Oh, I gave it to Diego so that he could arrange a permit to allow you to work in Brazil.’ Becky stood up. ‘It’s not surprising you’re feeling confused after everything that’s happened. I’ve got to go, or I’ll miss my flight. Diego’s PA will be able to explain things more clearly.’
By the time Clare had stuffed her belongings back into her rucksack and hurried down the steps of the Dakota, her sister had disappeared into the airport terminal.
‘Miss Marchant?’ She turned towards the voice and saw an elegant-looking woman with dark hair and an exotic olive complexion. ‘My name is Juliana Alvez, Mr Cazorra’s personal assistant. If you would like to come with me, Diego has scheduled a meeting with you at twelve o’clock to discuss your new role.’
Clare was conscious that her shorts were creased after she had slept in them and her hair was a wild tangle of untidy curls, in contrast to Juliana’s sleek chignon and sophisticated cream skirt and jacket.
How personal was Diego’s personal assistant? she wondered, hating herself for the hot surge of jealousy that swept through her. Once again she had a sense that her life was spinning out of her control.
‘That’s good, because I have many questions for Diego,’ she told Juliana with an air of calm composure that disguised her anger at the way she had been outmanoeuvred.
* * *
A helicopter flight over the city gave Clare spectacular views of the iconic landmarks of Rio de Janeiro, where the coastline was met by steeply sloping hills. Sugarloaf Mountain and the towering peak of Mount Corcovado with its famous statue of Christ the Redeemer dominated the skyline. The chopper swooped over beautiful Copacabana beach before it landed on the helipad at the top of a skyscraper building that looked over the bay.
‘Where are we?’ Clare asked Diego’s PA as she followed her inside what appeared to be a luxurious boutique hotel. The whole beach-facing side of the building was glass so that even the corridors offered views of the sea.
‘The helipad has direct access to Diego’s private penthouse apartment,’ Juliana said. ‘He owns the whole skyscraper and the Cazorra Corporation’s offices are on the lower floors.’ She opened a door and ushered Clare into an enormous suite. ‘This is where you will be staying. You have a personal maid, Vitoria, who will look after you, and I will return just before twelve to take you to Diego.’
Clare felt decidedly out of place in her crumpled clothes as she explored the elegant sitting room, huge bedroom and en suite bathroom with a sunken bath the size of a small swimming pool. The decor of muted shades of blue and cream, and dove-grey velvet carpets, was sophisticated but impersonal. She found it hard to imagine Diego living in the penthouse when he had admitted that he loved the wildness of the rainforest.
From the bathroom she heard the sound of the bath filling and headed towards it. The maid, Vitoria, was readying an enticing bubble bath.