Virgin Mistress(38)

She stared down blindly at the passing earth as the helicopter traveled back to Rio. The jungle disappeared, the landscape became more barren. Finishing her sparkling water and apple, she leaned back against her seat and wondered again about the woman. Catia. What kind of woman could hold such power over Diogo?

For the year Ellie had worked for him, Diogo had been known as the uncatchable playboy, the man who would never, ever commit to any woman. The gossipy junior secretaries had kept a gleeful tally of his conquests. The longest record for his undivided attention was held by a Swedish swimsuit model who strutted around Manhattan wearing nothing but hot pants, six- inch heels and teensy-tiny halter tops—in December. And even she had only managed to keep his interest for eight days!

If someone like Ebba Söderberg could only last eight days, what qualities must this Catia possess, that with a single phone call she could cause Diogo to bolt across Brazil?

She had to be beautiful…that went without saying. But to capture Diogo, she would have to be more. Sophisticated. Smart. Powerful. She probably had a master's degree in business, spoke five languages, owned a company and traveled in her own jet.

And, of course, she was a wicked temptress in bed. Not like Ellie, who'd only had two nights of sexual experience in her life, both with the same man!

Catia was sexy beyond belief with a perfect figure—not like Ellie, who was rapidly gaining weight and looking lumpier with every passing day of her double pregnancy.

How could Ellie compete with such a perfect woman?

She couldn't.

Turning blindly to look out the window, she folded her arms as a rush of emotion threatened to choke her.

Obviously, she'd been delusional on pregnancy hormones to think that because Diogo made love to her, because he'd made her explode with joy, she meant anything to him at all. She'd been crazy to think that because he'd made her his wife, she meant anything to him beyond his children's mother and his own occasional bed warmer.

To him, she was just a knocked-up former secretary who'd never even finished high school, was clueless about designer clothes and had long forgotten her junior-high Spanish. To him, she was simply another possession.

Now that he'd completed his hostile takeover of Ellie, he was already bored and looking for a new challenge.

While she…

As the helicopter descended into Rio, Ellie sucked in her breath.

She was in love with him.

One day as his wife, one night in his arms, and Ellie had fallen in love with Diogo all over again. And though their life together had barely begun, already it was killing her to know that he valued her so cheaply that he would insult and humiliate her like this on the second day of their marriage.

She was still trembling with the realization as they landed on the top of Diogo's office building and took the elevator to the street, where Guilherme waited with the Bentley.

“Leblon,” Diogo ordered his chauffeur.

Leblon? As they drove south from the business center of the city, Ellie felt her heart clench. He'd visited that ritzy Rio neighborhood before. During their business trip in February, Diogo had abruptly cancelled a meeting and told the chauffeur to drop him off alone on the Rua João Lira. Distracted with juggling paperwork and her growing attraction for her boss, Ellie hadn't paid attention. She'd been relieved to be left alone for a night at the Carlton Palace to organize the English-language contracts. But now…

Even in February, he'd been seeing this other woman. Catia.

And Diogo cared about Ellie's feelings so little he couldn't even be bothered to hide it.

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared out at the Cariocas playing volleyball across Copacabana Beach. They traveled east into the Ipanema neighborhood past the southern tip of the Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas. She saw happy young mothers pushing strollers along the edge of the lagoon. Passing into Leblon, all the houses and shops were sleek and gorgeous and new.

But directly behind the new buildings, the slums of the favelas packed onto a hillside, casting a shadow over Leblon's bright beauty.

Diogo was just like Rio. So seductive. So brutal. Did he really expect that she would be so thrilled to be his wife that she'd be willing to turn a blind eye to the ugliness of constant infidelities?

The chauffeur pulled the Bentley to the curb. “Estamos aqui, senhor.”

Diogo looked at Ellie for the first time since they'd left Bahia. “Guilherme will take you home.”

Ellie looked up at him and fire burned through her, leaving her eyes hot with unshed tears. “Don't leave like this. Please.” Her throat felt tight. “Don't go to her.”

He looked down at her, his handsome face devoid of expression. “Go home, Ellie.”

And he closed the car door behind him.