Chapter Nine
Erika hid her breasts with her palms though no one surrounded them. The idea of performing such an intimate everyday task out in the open sent a thrill of fear through her. What if someone caught her?
She let the air from her lungs out slowly. Carefully, as if it would magically travel and burst Emanuel’s bubble. The man had been standing with his back to her for the past ten minutes, not saying a single word.
She hoped the awkwardness would ease at some point, but now, seeing how taut his ass looked in those jeans, plus the undeniable tension stiffening the muscles of his spine, she changed her mind. Shit. She could just leave the spring and let him wash himself, but the sensation of warm water around her, soothing the kinks in her exhausted body, was too good to ignore.
“There’s no reason why we can’t be adults about it. If you want, you can join me in here. There’s enough space. Just keep your eyes from my shoulder level up,” she said, glad at how confident she sounded.
“I can wait.”
“I know, but it’s weird. I wanted to enjoy myself, and right now I feel like I’m this privileged child who’s having an ice cream on a hot day, and you’re the chauffeur waiting outside the parlor.”
Without responding, he began to take off his clothes. She squared her shoulders and locked her spine into place hoping better posture would make this idea sensible. Why couldn’t she prove to herself that she could resist him? She’d been doing a good job keeping her head in the game and not indulging in sexually charged conversations with him. How much different would it be to share a pool?
It is different. Otherwise, why would her gaze cling to him like an addict to a drug? He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, bringing his delicious shoulders into view. She gasped. “No big deal,” she said, unsure if it was to herself or him.
He pulled down his shorts and briefs at once, without fuss, and her throat grew dry. His ass was amazing. Smooth, hairless, with enough meat to grab on in the throes of passion.
When he motioned to move around, she glanced at the edges. The water splashed when he joined her, the little ripples making waves around her already engorged nipples. No big deal, my butt.
“Thanks for sharing,” he said casually.
“No problem. It’s a story to tell my grandchildren someday.” Except the part where I was naked with a hot Brazilian guy who screwed like no one’s business. “I mean, that I came here and visited the local springs.”
He chuckled, and her joints weakened. Damn him. “When you’re not trying to be prim and proper, you’re very cute.”
“Prim and proper doesn’t make for good stories, does it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said with a frown. “I’m not the poster guy for tact and finesse.”
She let out a small laugh, her body relaxing, as if knots had suddenly untied. Her hands dropped to her side. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, which turned out to be a greater danger than if he peeked at her boobs. Whenever they communicated without words, the part of her responsible for keeping her shit together faltered. She pressed her lips together, wishing the two beads of caramel would leave her alone.
Her clit throbbed with need. If she didn’t change the course of the conversation—fast—she’d be gone. “Don’t sell yourself short. You can be smooth when necessary. Don’t you work with investments and need to wine and dine people? Maybe find a diplomatic way to keep pretty women from trying to make an honest man out of you, or pretend you’re just the average Joe on church Sundays?
He grinned. “Yes, work taught me to use my charm to my advantage.”
“Like when you seduced some short, bald billionaire dude for instance?”
His hearty laugh filled the space around them. “As trying as it is, I resist those types. I keep my head focused at work, and no church Sundays for me. How about you?”
“I used to go to church with my mom. Dad never wanted to, so that was a special time we had together. I cherished it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She played with the water, making patterns with her fingers. “You’re lucky you have three siblings. I’ve missed having a brother or a sister.”
“It wasn’t always easy, but we managed. And we’re all at a good place now,” he said with nonchalance, but a flicker of happiness gleamed in his eyes. The thought that he was trying to sound tougher than he was warmed her heart. Despite what he said, Emanuel Duarte was a family man—at least, to his family and to his cause.
Fool that she was, she sighed in admiration. “Nice.”
Silence.
A hint of a sexy smile curled his lips, and she felt her inner muscles squeezing. This is what you get for inviting him in. Idiot.
“Don’t look at me like that, otherwise there won’t be much of a clean story to tell your future grandkids,” he said.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Fear not, my lord,” she said in a British accent. “I shall ensure the chastity of this bath.”
He threw his head back and chuckled. “You’re something else, Erika.”
“Maybe. I guess I do okay with the right amount of makeup and workouts. And I dare say I’m adventurous after a few glasses of wine.” Which she rarely drank.
“You don’t need alcohol to shine,” he said in a rough voice. “You sure as hell don’t need makeup to look stunning, and whatever exercise routine you’ve been doing is fucking working.”
A warm wave spread across her neck and cheeks. For the first time, his gaze slid off her face and wandered down her collarbone and lower. She watched him watching her, and every inch of her body that he catalogued with his eyes seared in response. Her stomach clenched. Holy crap.
“Thanks. What can I say? Your efforts in exercising have certainly paid off, too.”
He shook his head, amused. “How much longer are we going to beat around the bush?”
“Meaning?” she asked even though she knew exactly what he meant.
He sobered. “We want each other.”
“I thought last night we took care of that.”
“Me, too. But turns out we were just fueling the fire and not killing it.”
What a great analogy, especially since they were in the water. She opened her mouth to comment on that, but no sound came out. She licked her bottom lip, willing herself to speak, move, or breathe.
He curled his lips and stretched to his full height, probably looking for a way to yank answers from her. “Why did you invite me in here? With you naked?”
“Because I wanted to see if I could resist you. It was a stupid self-imposed test.” And how is that working for you?
“Then you’ll have to tell me what your secret is, princesa. Because I’m failing that test. Badly.” He sighed with frustration.
Her heart turned over in her chest. “You are?”
“Yes. Just being so close to you without touching you makes my chest burn.”
She chewed on her lower lip, her resolve more slippery than the water around them. Would giving in to the attraction weaken her like she imagined? Or would the power of knowing he suffered like she did give her a boost? No matter how they parted, or how long they stayed together—even if only sexually—they would always share this strong connection. Giving herself to Emanuel would be as unforgettable as the man himself.
“Come closer,” she whispered.
“You said you wanted breathing room,” he said, but moved toward her anyway.
“Breathing is overrated.”
He lowered his head, and she lifted hers. For a moment, she studied him as their bodies closed the distance between them. His hair was damp, and the combination of his manly scent with nature’s dew and the water’s crispness intoxicated her senses. He lifted his finger, and when he outlined her lower lip, a thrill of excitement surged all the way down to her clit. His finger trembled on her flesh, and she realized he was eager and painfully aroused, too.
She sucked his index finger, and he hissed. Her knees buckled, and she blinked. He brought her to him, erasing the last inch between them; his cock pulsed against her, and she mellowed.
“I’ve been wanting this too much. I don’t know if I can be gentle.”
She glided her tongue on his finger, stroking his flesh up and down. “Then don’t be.”
…
Meu Deus, he could fuck her every day of his damn life.
Emanuel pressed her against the rock slab, then slid his hand between her and the stone to ensure the sharp edges wouldn’t bite into her delicate skin. She launched at him, wrapping her legs around his torso in a perfect mold. She snaked her hands around his neck, her fingers massaging him. His gut clenched.
He snatched her sexy lips in a kiss and found no resistance. Her tongue welcomed him, and he placed both hands under her ass, massaging her buttocks. The kiss intensified, their tongues stroking, teeth grazing. He sucked on her lower lip then released it with a pop. She moaned and squirmed against his body.
She wanted him and made no qualms about it.
“God, yes. Yes.” She glided her hand down his abs, and when she touched his cock, he groaned, quivered.
He drew in a breath, hoping to regain control so he would come where he belonged, inside her and not on her generous hand. She stroked his length up and down, squeezing the tip until pre-cum leaked out.
On the brink of an orgasm, he shoved her hand away and slammed into her, letting that intense sensation drive him in and out of her. She gasped but didn’t deny him… She upped the passion a notch, kissing him as if she knew all his secrets, and he knew hers. It could have been thousands of kisses or just one—from the moment their mouths melded, there was no telling.
He flicked her clit with his thumb, and she started to arch toward him. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted her with ardent intimacy. He wanted to own her in a primeval way so strong it shocked him. She started to orgasm, her body convulsing against his, while his own libido skyrocketed. Grunting, he stroked her ass and slid a finger into her opening, working it. Slowly at first, then faster, as his cock plunged deeper and harder.
She bit his lip and tensed up.
An ache surged through him, quickly, and before he could process the pain, a jolt of arousal took over. What a feisty socialite he had in his hands—literally.
“Don’t stop,” she hissed. “I’m coming.”
Cornering her against the rock, he thrust in to the hilt, while his finger explored her tight channel. He continued the tantalizing rhythm, torturing them both until he could no longer take it. She quivered and shouted his name in the sexiest way. He finally let go, filling her, knowing deep inside that this wasn’t just good old sex anymore. Even after it ended, the need to possess her, to keep her by his side remained, and that scared the hell out of him.
“Are you dry?” he asked an hour later. They had been lounging on a rock, basking in the glorious rays of sunshine filtering through the trees.
They could have been on a private island in Greece or in the exclusive backyard of his house in Rio. For a moment it had been nice to throw caution to the wind and enjoy each other, though he couldn’t bank on such an indulgence to last. He had to go back to camp, talk to cacique and the others. Then he’d update Raul’s family, who wanted to avenge Silas, without telling them the enemy’s daughter walked amongst them. Piece of cake.
She offered him a sideways glance. “In a sense.”
He swallowed and wrestled the urge to roll on top of her and taste her. “Nice. Who knew you’d be such a tigress?”
“Was I not up to par last night at the hotel?”
“No. You were terrific. It’s just that what happened today was…intense,” he said, stumbling to explain exactly how a simple touch of hers sent him into overdrive. Every time they got intimate, something inside him shifted, whether he wanted it to or not. His heart was like a rock covering the entrance of an old abandoned cavern that kept a tsunami from flooding inside, but he hadn’t counted on all the cracks and gaps in a supposedly hard surface. Emotion trickled in like water with every stroke and smile she offered him.
She winked, waving him off. “I’m learning from the best.”
God, did he wish he had brought some sunglasses. He probably grinned like an inexperienced boy instead of the seasoned man he’d become. Shaking his head, Emanuel stood and gathered their clothes. After putting his shorts on, he gave her the shirt and denim shorts. They couldn’t spend the rest of the day making love and entertaining each other, although the idea spiked his pulse.
Sighing, she stood and got dressed. A shade of deep pink stained her cheeks, neck, and shoulders. The breeze kept messing with her hair, and the tousled look made him want to do silly things he saw in sappy movies his sister Camila watched as a teenager, like kissing her nose.
Get your head back in the game. Silliness had no place in the next few days. And how adorable and carefree would she act when he destroyed her family, her work, and, indirectly, her reputation? Hurting her wasn’t his goal, but it would prove to be inevitable collateral damage to seeing through his plan.
“Sleeping with you is wrong, but it feels right,” he said out loud.
She fixed her shirt and smoothed it with her hands. “I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment.”
Neither do I. Shrugging, he decided not to voice his own insecurity. “I’m a straightforward guy, that’s all.”
“I appreciate your honesty, Emanuel. You know why? I come from a world where people kiss my ass because of my last name. I’m a Lancaster and run the charity. I’ve dated a few guys who screwed me because they wanted something from me, whether they knew it or not. And then I have you who’s screwing me because you want me, even though sleeping with me compromises your operation,” she said in a steady but firm tone.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “True.”
She put her hair up in a ponytail, the curly tips swinging from side to side as she lifted her chin and said, “If you’re scared of hurting me, let me tell you something. I may not be able to resist you.” She chewed on her lower lip and looked away for a second, then her eyes returned to his. Two fierce beads of chocolate with golden flecks that warned him and drew him in. “But I will survive you,” she continued, her voice as serious as a heart attack.
An odd sentiment of disappointment washed over him. “How do you know?”
“I’ve done it before.” She glanced down at the rock.
Damn it. She’d lost her mother and had dated slimy men who had taken advantage of her. Silas didn’t strike him as Father of the Year, and Emanuel wouldn’t wish the blood ties to him upon anyone, certainly not someone as caring and amazing as Erika.
“What can you tell me about the cacique?” she asked.
He gestured for her to follow him and began hiking back to the camp. Waiting for her would be more gentlemanly, but frustration overpowered him and he found himself striding. “Obajara’s very protective of his people, so letting Raul’s family join them was a big deal.”
She caught up with him in a couple of steps. “He must trust you,” she said, her voice breathy.
“I’ve offered aid to his people when they got sick and their natural healing treatments didn’t work,” he said, downplaying the friendship he cemented during the past months. Their tribe had been one of the first he’d assisted on his own after having stepped up to help take care of Addie’s nonprofit organization for almost a year.
“Okay. So it’s all good. What’s the problem?”
He balked, turned, and locked his eyes on hers. “We’re calling your father in two days. I want you to talk to him, and he must believe you want to return to him, or my plan won’t work. He can’t know you came here because you have doubts, and he certainly can’t know what happened between us.”
She chuckled. “You really think I’d tell my dad I slept with you?”
He opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn’t imagine they had such an open relationship, or much of a meaningful relationship at all, yet he had to ask her, because if her father picked up that his daughter had a soft spot for her captor, all was lost. Assuming, of course, she had a soft spot. Assuming she isn’t playing me.
“I have a question,” she said, her voice yanking him from his pondering. “What will he say when one of the men tells him I helped you run? I mean, wouldn’t that be a red flag?”
“No. You tell him you didn’t trust them. You didn’t believe that he was the one who sent them to you, and you preferred to come back to me, because at least you knew I wanted something in his possession.” He resumed hiking, this time at a gentler pace so she could keep up without much effort. It also gave him the opportunity of shooting glances her way, which certainly slowed him down.
She made a face. “I’ll try to sound convincing.”
He squared his shoulders. “You’ll do it.”
“How do you know?”
He pushed the lump clogging his throat. “Because you’ve done it before.”
She smiled at him, and his gut contracted. Because she had survived more than he imagined, and she would survive him as she so easily pointed out. A cloud of uncertainty lurked over him. How the hell am I going to survive her?
“Come,” Emanuel called to her.
A bonfire burned strong in the middle of a circle where people sat and chatted. The way Erika kept a subtle watch on everyone amused him. She had a diplomatic way of learning the customs first before showing any response, as though she wanted to ensure she didn’t offend anyone.
She cared about people, and that pleased him a great deal.
“What’s the occasion?” She pointed at the buckets of fresh fruit lined up, the fresh fish baking on the sticks, and the flour-based side dishes.
“See those two?” he asked, pointing at Peri and Tacira, a couple in their early twenties he’d chatted with a few times in the past. She nodded. “The girl is pregnant. Tonight is their last night in this camp. Then they will go to a farther side of the camp where they will keep to themselves and will only return after the baby is born.”
She eyed them with interest. “Did they do something wrong? Slept with someone else? Betrayed the tribe’s values?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s common for a first-time pregnant couple to retreat for the duration of the pregnancy. It’s a rite of passage in some tribes. That means when they come back, they will be parents and have a different role in the community.”
“Pretty cool. I could totally see some of my friends in New York adapting to this lifestyle. They’d hide as they gained weight, and then reappear with a newborn in tow, with flawless skin and slimmer shape. Some would even get a tummy tuck in the mean time.” She shrugged. “Sad, but true.”
“Jokes aside, we could all learn from the way they go about life.”
“Certainly. Do you though? Because you’re all about your cause and no personal entanglements. Yet these men seem to be more invested in protecting their families and wives.”
He opened his mouth to reply but hesitated. A light flickered in her eyes, an unspoken challenge. She wanted to hear his side. He could say just because he helped the tribe didn’t mean he’d absorbed every aspect of their way of life. Then why did the words clog his throat? “Let’s get something to eat.”
“Sounds good to me.”
For the next fifteen minutes, she ate everything he offered her with gusto. He half-expected her to ask what was in the food, if it was gluten free or met some other modern-day restrictions. But she squashed his preconceived notions by experimenting, and from what he could tell, she enjoyed every bite. The women he dated in his world, as Emanuel Duarte the financier, wouldn’t be caught dead makeup free, eating dishes made by real people and not five-star restaurants.
Shit. Erika was fun, and he’d have to give her up.
“Are you done with your tapioca?” She pulled him from wondering and pointed at the half-eaten pastry in his hand. He nodded. “Great. Can I have it?” And before he answered, she snatched it from his hand and bit a piece. “Yum.”
“You really like it, huh?”
She winked at him. “What’s not to like? I’m giving calorie counting a break. The upside of all this hiking we’ve been doing.”
He eyed his wooden plate. “Wise decision.”
“You seemed lost in thought. Everything okay?”
“Yes. We’ll call your father tomorrow,” he announced, his vocal cords working faster than his brain. Could he think of a better decision? Before he got too attached to Erika, he had to let her go. That was the only way to keep his promise to Raul’s parents. The only way to make things work. Seeing her interact with the tribe and second-guessing his own principles would be of no use.
“Oh.” She drew back. “I thought you wanted to wait longer.”
“I think we’ve waited enough. We don’t want to give him enough time to hire a more efficient team who will find us.” The last day with her opened his eyes. The longer he stayed with her, the more she would become a liability to his plans and to his well-ordered life.
“Of course we don’t,” she said, and he could hear the disappointment in her voice. Damn it.
She sipped a local-made drink made from Guaraná, a berry from the trees used in soft drinks and energizers because of its high caffeine content. It was time to show her why they were there. “Come.”
He guided her through the crowd, touching her elbow. His skin sizzled at the contact in an organic spark of recognition. When he’d asked the Indians to have Raul’s family over, cacique Obijara made his rules clear: the new people shouldn’t interfere with the Indians’ everyday life and traditions, which was why their quarters were located a couple of miles away from the Itopis.
Emanuel couldn’t complain.
“Why is it every time you say let’s go it always takes us forever?”
He bit back a smile. “This is important.”
“Okay, but you’re giving my feet a rub later. Sex or no sex.”
His body tensed up. “Will do.”
They strolled side by side while he held a flashlight in the darkness. The sounds from bugs buzzing and animals moving through the woods filled the night. Leaves crunched under their feet. A few colorful frogs hopped out of their way as the walked.
“I would have doubled my tapioca intake if I had known we were walking after dinner,” she said, cutting the silence when they approached the quarters.
The camp certainly had its perks. Compared to the Itopis. Emanuel had ensured the Souzas had everything they needed: a couple of large, comfortable tents with portable bathrooms and showers. Modern LED lanterns brightened the area where beach chairs outlined a low crackling fire.
“Hi,” said Andre Souza, Raul’s father, a fifty-something man who’d worked as a janitor his whole life. A man who trusted Emanuel to find his son. A man who wanted revenge. “I didn’t know you’d come back so soon. Bring good news, doutor?” he asked.
“Are you a doctor? You never told me,” she murmured.
“I’m not. It’s customary in some places in Brazil to call people from a higher social class doctors, as a matter of respect,” he said gruffly. He had asked the Souzas not to refer to him as doutor a few times, but none of the six listened. And who was he to insist on something so small when the pain of their missing family member surpassed anything?
“Too bad.” There was a hint of mischief in her tone, and if he hadn’t been focused on the task at hand, he would have rejoiced in her playful mood. He cleared his throat and gestured to the gray-haired man with wrinkles creasing his eyes. “Meet Andre Souza. He is Raul’s father.”
She squared her shoulders, and her eyes widened. Should he have prepared her? Yes. He meant to during their walk. However, he’d enjoyed the silence—even if he had to pay a price for it. “I’m sorry. Can you tell him that? Tell him I’m sorry his son is missing,” she finally said.
He translated, and Andre thanked him. He didn’t speak English but looked at her with a warm smile. “She’s your wife?”
“What? No. She’s my girl—a very good friend.” He swallowed. A friend of mine who’d become your enemy if you knew who she was. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing her. How have you all been?”
“Good. No problems with the Itopis. They’re good people,” Andre said, and his wife and four daughters ranging from twenty to ten years old, left the tent and waved at them, heading in their direction. Probably wondering if he had some news, too.
“Excellent.”
“Any news about Silas?” Andre asked. He hesitated, looked at the ground, then raised his gaze to Emanuel. The look of pain and despair in the man’s face punched Emanuel in the gut. “My son?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m still working on it. We’re close to drawing to a conclusion. I have something in my control that’s very precious to Silas, and I will only return it to him when he gives me your son back. I hope to have better news in a couple of days,” Emanuel said. He’d shared the basic aspect of his plans with the Souzas, the eye for an eye part. But, despite their many questions, Emanuel refused to tell them what he had in his possession. It was as if he’d known from the beginning that spreading the word about Erika could do more harm than good.
Andre let out a long sigh, then ran his hand down his face.
“We can wait a couple of days,” his wife Lillian said, coming up behind him. The four daughters joined them, all greeting Emanuel with quick hellos. He nodded at them in acknowledgement but didn’t want to interrupt Lillian. “We’ve waited for weeks. A couple more days won’t matter. Anything for our son.” Lillian nudged her husband, who slowly nodded.
Erika frowned at Emanuel and leaned her head as though if she paid close attention to the words, she would be able to understand the exchange. “What are they saying?” she asked.
“They know I have something of his in my possession, and an exchange will take place,” Emanuel hissed. “They don’t know who you are.”
“And who is she?” asked the twenty-something daughter, in English, hands perched at her waist.