“It's all going to be fine.” He reached out to stroke her hair, quelling the impatience in his blood. “You'll see.”
Their need to marry was so obvious to him now. He couldn't imagine why she'd turned him down, but he wouldn't let any foolish feminine whims prevent him from doing what was best for all of them. He couldn't.
Tonight, he would give her a chance to catch her breath. Both she and the baby needed a full night's rest. Tomorrow, he'd lure her with all the skill he possessed. Entice her with the romance all women craved. He would convince her. He would persuade. He'd give her a day of romance. One day.
Then, willing or not, Ellie would be his bride.
CHAPTER NINE
PUTTING ASIDE HER pregnancy book and empty pint of strawberry ice cream, Ellie curled up into a ball beneath the bedcovers and stared at the fire in the stark white fireplace. She heard the hard rain patter against the bedroom windows. Days of sunshine, nights of rain. Listening to the dying crackle of the fire and the wind howling outside, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Diogo's pillow.
Such a strange afternoon.
After the ultrasound, Diogo had taken her out shopping, insisting that she buy whatever would make her comfortable for her stay. She'd actually enjoyed their afternoon together. He'd flirted with her. And she'd caught herself flirting back.
Then halfway through the candlelight dinner served by his housekeeper, just as she was tucking into her second plate of lasagna and steamed broccoli, Diogo had gotten a phone call. Without explanation, he'd kissed Ellie on the temple and left her to finish dinner alone!
Staring into the fire, she wondered moodily who'd called him.
Thank heaven she'd had the sense to refuse his marriage proposal. He'd just been trying to alleviate his guilt by pretending to do the right thing. What would he have done if she'd said “yes”? Probably exactly what he was doing now—gone straight to another woman's arms.
It could have been a business call, she told herself. Some late-night problem with the Mongolian iron mine that required a phone call. It could have been business, right? Right?
Yeah, right.
But he had asked her to be his wife. She still couldn't believe it. The playboy of the Western world had proposed to her. Who would ever believe it? No one.
So who would ever believe she had refused him?
She pulled the bed's comforter up to her ears to keep such unsettling thoughts away. The sheets smelled fresh and clean with a faint scent of his cologne. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against his pillow. She yawned, feeling more exhausted than she'd ever felt in her life.
But she knew she couldn't sleep. Not when, at any moment, he might return and join her in the bed. She yawned. She had to be ready. Ready to fight off not just his seduction, but her own body's traitorous desire.
“Ellie.”
Diogo was shaking her. She sat up unsteadily from where she'd been sprawled across the bottom half of his bed. The fire was nothing but ash, and the howling of the wind against the windows had faded.
She realized it was morning. The rain had stopped, and as he opened the shades, she blearily saw the gray-pink hue of dawn across the Atlantic Ocean. She felt disoriented in her rumpled pajamas and messy hair.
Diogo, on the other hand, was fresh and impeccably dressed. He looked crisp and handsome. He'd shaved and changed. He now wore gray slacks, a sharp gray vest and crisp yellow shirt. The elegant cut of his clothes only emphasized the hard-muscled body of the warrior beneath.
She wondered what he'd done last night.
She wasn't jealous, she told herself fiercely. She wasn't even going to ask. He could go out every night with swimsuit models for all she cared. Ellie would, in fact, be glad because it meant he wasn't trying to seduce her.
“Bom dia, amorzão.” Diogo held a silver tray. She saw eggs and toast and fruit on a china plate, orange juice in a crystal glass—and a single red rose. “I've brought you breakfast.”
She sat up straight in bed. “Breakfast?” she said hopefully as her stomach growled.
But as he leaned over her, placing the tray over her lap, she smelled his woodsy soap on his skin and felt the warmth of his masculine body, and suddenly had to fight hunger for more than just toast.
“Did you sleep well?”
She quickly looked up, hoping he hadn't caught her ogling his backside. “Yes, thank you.”
He returned her smile frankly. “How am I doing?”
“At what?”
“At serving you.”
She glanced down at the rose on the tray. “You could probably get a job at a Dairy Burger, if the steel business doesn't work out.”
His smile spread into a grin. “Obrigado.” He opened the napkin and set it on her lap. “I have a busy day planned for us.”