Virgin Mistress(36)

And this man…this dark prince who'd stolen every aspect of her innocence…was he a devil? Or something else?

Could she be happy as his wife?

Knowing she shared him with other women? No.

But if by some miracle he could be faithful…

“Diogo…”

He abruptly opened his eyes. “The babies.” Immediately, he rolled off her. “Did I hurt them?”

She shook her head. Biting her lip, she hesitated. “I was wondering…”

Did she dare ask her question? Can you give up your other women, and be faithful to me alone?

He stretched out next to her on the large bed, supple and satisfied as a well-fed lion. “Come sleep with me.” Gently, he pulled her back into his arms to nestle against his chest.

It felt good. Too good. In spite of her fear and jealousy over thoughts of Diogo's other women, she felt herself growing drowsy within the comfort and security of his arms. As she dropped off to sleep in the full brightness of day, she listened to the roar of the surf and the birds calling from beyond the sea.

And she found herself wanting to stay safe in Diogo's strong arms—forever.





CHAPTER TWELVE



ELLIE WOKE HUNGRIER than she'd ever been in her life.

For several moments she listened to Diogo's deep, even breathing next to her. Outside, she could hear the exotic songs of birds in the bright full morning. Then she smiled.

What her husband had done to her since dawn. Multiple times. They'd both been so exhausted, they'd finally fallen asleep in each other's arms….

She blushed. Diogo was her husband. The thought astounded her. And what a wedding night—or morning!

Her stomach growled again, more loudly this time. Putting her hand on her belly, she reassured her hungry babies that breakfast was on the way. She climbed softly out of bed and put on an oversized, white cotton robe. Careful not to wake Diogo, she padded into the kitchen. She found peppermint tea in the cupboard and put the kettle on. She stuck some thickly cut bread into the toaster, then slathered both pieces in butter. One piece for each baby. After all, if the babies wanted extra butter and strawberry jam, who was she to deny them their heart's desire?

Smiling broadly, she took her peppermint tea and toast and went outside. Leaving the sliding glass door open behind her, she sat out on the patio to look out at the afternoon sun sparkling across the infinity pool and the ocean beneath the cliffs.

Looking out at the diamond-bright shimmer across the sapphire water, she realized she felt something she'd never expected.

Happiness. Wide, inexplicable joy.

She took a deep breath of the fresh, salty air. The white sand beach was peaceful and the ocean seemed impossibly blue in the hot Brazilian sunlight. A slight breeze swayed the palm trees over the far-off cliffs.

Then she heard the faint buzzing inside the house, rattling hard against the nightstand. The vibrating phone that made her sick to her bones. She heard Diogo's voice, muffled from the bedroom. “Catia?”

Ellie's feeling of happiness and tranquility vanished like smoke.

Her grip tightened over her large ceramic teacup. Catia. Again. Why couldn't the woman leave Diogo alone—not even on his honeymoon?

Even as she told herself she didn't care, humiliation and jealousy surged through her. She glanced down at her plate of toast but she'd utterly lost her appetite. She found herself inching toward the open glass door, straining to hear his low voice.

“Tchau,” he said, and she heard him getting out of bed.

Ellie hurried away from the door. She struggled not to feel hurt. Not to care. It wasn't like she'd ever expected Diogo to love her. It was merely a marriage of convenience for the babies' sake. She hadn't even wanted to marry him in the first place!

But jealousy stabbed her. It hurt so deep it was impossible to pretend she didn't feel it.

Give up your other women. Be faithful just to me!

Could she ask him? Did she dare?

“There you are.” Diogo came through the sliding glass door to stand beside her on the patio. “Bom dia, my lovely bride.”

He kissed her briefly on the temple. But looking at him carefully beneath her lashes, Ellie could tell he was tense. He was trying to hide the emotion. He didn't want her to know.

Why? To protect his secret mistress?

“The surf is wild this morning,” he observed. He placed his hands on the railing and looked wistfully out toward the ocean.

Carefully setting down her tea on the table, she came up behind him, gently placing her hands on his back. He turned around.

“Who is Catia?” she whispered. “Why does she keep calling you?”

Glancing back at her, his handsome face closed down. “I don't want to discuss it.”

“You once said that your wife would have the right to ask.”