I'm just tired, she told herself. Since she'd gotten pregnant, being tired was a constant state of existence. But why did the safe man make her tense—and the dangerous one make her feel so relaxed? There was something really, really wrong with her.
The Bentley pulled beneath the porte cochere of the Carlton Palace. Ellie looked up at the 1920s white- stucco landmark, a luxury hotel and condominium resort in elegant Louis-XV architecture like a wedding cake.
“Do you remember this place?”
Of course she remembered. She'd seen it constantly in her dreams: the place where he'd seduced her. The place where he'd made her drop every shred of decency she'd ever known, along with her clothes…
She shivered as heat flashed through her body, causing a bead of sweat to form between her breasts. “Yes.”
Once he took her upstairs, there would be no escape. He could do whatever he wanted to her. Anything. If he wanted to seduce her, she wouldn't be able to resist. He could just reach out and take her. She wouldn't be able to stop him.
If she wanted to stop him…
Getting out of the car, Diogo came around the Bentley to open her door himself.
“You said you were taking me home.” She looked up timidly. “This isn't my home.”
“I want it to be.” He held out his hand. “But you are wet and tired. We can discuss all that later. For now, you need rest, food, a hot shower.” When she didn't move, he said, “Please. Give me the chance to treat you with the care you deserve.”
A shower and breakfast sounded like heaven. But even more captivating was the smile he gave her as he held out his hand. That smile won her over as all the force in the world couldn't.
She looked down at his strong, muscular hand. He had thick, masculine forearms, laced with dark hair. The hand of a fighter. He'd already proven that. But it was also a hand that could make her lose her mind with his sensual, masterful caress….
“All right,” she said with a deep breath. “I'll give you a chance.”
His larger hand enfolded hers as he helped her out of the car. She trembled at the touch of the fingers that had once touched her in such unspeakable ways. The last time they'd been in Rio, he'd done such things to her virgin body that even now, her breath constricted just remembering.
You're so beautiful, he'd said hoarsely, I will die if I don't have you. She remembered the swirling pleasure of his tongue, so bewildering and like nothing she'd ever imagined. The sensation as he slowly thrust one finger inside her…then two…then three. The mastery of his kiss. The way he'd teased, demanded, enticed her. His sensual onslaught had made her tremble and explode. She'd whimpered and thrashed and bucked against his mouth. He'd held her down firmly with the weight of his muscled body, so masculine and foreign and strange and… Oh my God, my God, Diogo, I love you, I love you, I do.
She could hardly believe that three months ago, she'd let him strip her naked and seduce her into ecstasy she'd never known existed. And when he'd realized she was a virgin and tried to pull back, she wouldn't let him release her. Trembling at her own boldness, she'd held him tight. She'd never wanted to let him go.
So much had happened since then. He'd gotten her pregnant. Lied to her. Ignored her.
But something had changed in the favela. What? What had made him suddenly relax back into the charming man she remembered? He'd suddenly started acting almost as if he truly cared about her….
No! She couldn't start thinking that way. Who knew where such dangerous thoughts would end?
He led her inside the hotel, past soaring ceilings, palm trees, gilded furniture and the elegant check-in desk. But Ellie barely noticed. She had eyes only for Diogo. In a small, private elevator, he turned a key to push the button for the top floor. The doors slid open and he led her past two bodyguards lounging in the hallway. They nodded at him respectfully, barely bothering to glance at Ellie.
But why should they notice her? They probably saw him with a different woman every night. She was just the latest in his long line of lovers. Tomorrow, he'd be with somebody else.
The thought chilled her like a shadow.
“You're shivering,” Diogo said, observing her keenly as he unlocked the door to the penthouse.
Her teeth chattered. “No. I'm fine, really.”
“Come inside. I will soon get you warm.”
Following him in a daze, she kicked off her muddy high heels and stepped on the thick white carpet inside. It felt good to take off the painful shoes, but nothing else in this penthouse was particularly comforting to her. The decor was severe and Spartan—modern, minimalist and cold. Glass and metal sculpture was placed sparingly against the white walls. High floor-to-ceiling windows edged the penthouse, surrounding a freestanding, two-story-high white fireplace.