She'd brought their family together.
In many ways, he thought, his wife was far more powerful than he was. Bearing children, giving constant unconditional love, being the emotional heart of a home—they all demanded strength and courage that most men, including Diogo, couldn't possibly comprehend.
But protecting them was Diogo's job.
“Nothing's wrong,” he said evenly. “Everything is fine.”
Turning away before she could ask more questions, he went to his study and got on the phone. He called in some favors from friends in various government agencies, including Interpol. But hanging up the phone, he still felt unsettled.
His men would find him, Diogo told himself, but he was distracted all throughout dinner. After the delicious meal, he hugged Catia farewell and Pedro, his most trusted bodyguard, carried her little suitcase and accompanied her to the waiting car downstairs. The general's compound was notoriously tight with security; Diogo knew that Catia would be safe there.
“I can tell something's bothering you.” He felt Ellie's arms wrap around his waist. “You might as well just tell me. Don't make me lure it out of you,” she said teasingly.
He turned to face her and growled, “My only problem is that it's been too long since we've been alone together.”
Pulling her into the bedroom, he made love to her with almost frantic intensity, ripping off her clothes, pulling her over him, thrusting inside her deeply as she rode him until they both were sweaty and gasping. Then he held her all night. She slept cradled in his arms. But for him, sleep was impossible. He stared up at the ceiling, then rose from bed before first light.
“Where are you going?”
He'd thought she was still asleep. He looked at her on the bed. She was leaning back against the pillows, naked from the waist up, looking so impossibly lush and beautiful that it made his heart hurt.
He clenched his jaw. “I need to get to work. The Vahlo acquisition…”
“Forget work,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “Stay home with me and play.”
“The sure way to the poorhouse.”
“I think we could manage with a few million less.”
“It's Wright,” he heard himself blurt out. “He's threatening to take you from me.”
To his surprise, Ellie just laughed aloud. “Timothy? Of course he wants me. At nine months pregnant, I'm so very beautiful, so irresistible to men,” she teased.
“You are,” he insisted. He leaned over her on the bed, kissing her lips softly. “He's sent me anonymous notes.”
“If they're anonymous, how do you—”
“I know,” he said grimly. “And I should have killed him when I had the chance. Until he's caught, you must never leave the penthouse without Pedro. Do you understand me?”
She shook her head, then reached out to playfully muss his hair. “Why don't you just admit it?”
“Admit what?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “You love me.”
He stared at her. Sweat rose to his forehead. “What?”
She sat up straight on the bed. “You love me, Diogo. Just as I love you. I've been in love with you for ages. I think since the first time you called me into your office, demanding for me to take a memo on the Trock deal.”
His jaw clenched and he stood back from her. The intimate mood was suddenly gone.
Love her?
Love was for women who didn't know better.
Love was for men who were too weak to control themselves.
Love made a man stupid. Made him vulnerable. Left him helpless.
And he couldn't be helpless. Not with so much at stake.
“You love me,” Ellie whispered. Her clear blue eyes met his. “Please. I need to hear it. All these months, I've been waiting and praying to hear it. I thought that if I showed my love for you in a thousand small ways, giving you a loving home, you would know—”
“Ellie, I can't deal with this now.” His whole body felt tense as he turned away. “I need to take a shower.”
“Diogo?”
He turned on her fiercely. “I don't love you, all right?”
She went pale. She licked her lips, tried to speak, couldn't.
“I don't,” he insisted. “And if you love me, I'm very sorry. I never wanted your love. We have a partnership, querida. A friendship. An intense connection in bed. A wonderful family. That's all. But for God's sake, that should be enough!”
“I don't believe that,” she responded passionately. “The way you kiss me. The way you want to protect me…”
He abruptly left the bedroom, heading toward the bathroom. “I need to get ready.”
He took a thirty-second shower and quickly got dressed. When he came back, he saw her sitting on the sofa in the front room, wrapped in his robe. Dawn was flooding the room with soft pink light. She was hugging herself, staring down at the floor.