by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
“Bruno.” She touched his stubbled chin and made him turn to look at her. “You’ll talk to him after he passes. But you should get whatever you want off your chest right now. While he is still alive.” Her soft voice didn’t mask the harsh reality behind her words.
He looked away. “Tell him how I blamed him for not paying attention to what went on? How I hated him for making me feel guilty and dirty when he’d found out? For not protecting his own son?” How I’m thankful for him making me flee to make something of myself. Away from his family, his town, his clients…
Her slight shrug told him nothing new. “Tell him what’s in your heart. This might be your last chance. Don’t let pride or fear ruin it.” Her words stayed with him even after sliding out of the car and heading inside.
The living room seemed darker than usual with the blinds closed. The stainless-steel fan suspended from the vaulted ceiling was on, the whir of the blades circulating the stuffy air. Leonardo and Emanuel both stood against the wall, with folded arms and puffy faces. Eyes red. Camila came out of their father’s room, weeping quietly but steadily.
He walked up to his sister, and, when his eyes met hers, he slumped his shoulders. Seeing his sister in such a fragile state, with her messy hair and dark circles under her eyes, was like…coming home. Really coming home. Without delay, he gave her a hug.
“Oh, Bruno, I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered.
He stilled for a moment, his brain processing what she’d said. He soaked in her embrace. Camila curled her hands around his shoulder, and for the first time he didn’t want to let his baby sister go. For the first time…he wanted to stay around and not leave.
He kissed her gently on the top of her head. “Me, too,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “Me, too,” he repeated.
“You should go inside.” She sniffed and withdrew from his arms.
With a long sigh, he walked into his father’s room, and, with every step he took toward the bed, the weight of each year he’d been away piled up inside him.
His father had on an oxygen mask, and the only sounds to the otherwise silent room were the beep from a machine and his oxygen tank.
“Pai.”
He pulled a chair to the bedside and sat beside his father. Addie’s words resonated inside his racing mind. You should get whatever you want off your chest right now.
She was right. He had to slice some of that weight. “I’m sorry I never visited you in all those years.” He looked at the heart-rate monitor. It went up a bit, and he wondered if his father was listening… Due to the heavy medication and exhaustion, the nurse said it was expected he would sleep for most of the day.
“I’ll miss you,” he pushed through the clog in his throat. “I know I haven’t been here for you, but I’ll miss you. Maybe we can talk more when you’re gone.”
Bruno clasped his fingers in his father’s cold hand, and his father slowly opened his eyes. The simple gesture appeared to be a great effort. Bruno pressed his lips together, unwilling to let the tears fog his vision and ruin this moment.
“Bruno…you were more than I imagined.” His father’s voice was low, rough. “It was never your fault. Forgive me, son.”
“I forgive you.” With his heart galloping, Bruno leaned down and embraced his father. He didn’t want to hurt him with their likely last hug, but his own gentleness surprised him. “I forgive you.” He raised his head to kiss his father’s forehead.
He felt his father’s hand soften for a bit, and then it went completely still.
“I forgive you,” he whispered one last time.
When he stood straight, he saw his father’s serene smile. His father was gone. But in a way, he had just become more present in his life than ever.
Chapter Fourteen
Addie leaned against the wall as Camila and Emanuel gave each other a long hug that made Addie’s heart tighten. Leonardo stood across from her, lost in thought, his eyes red and looking nowhere in particular.
Bruno had been inside Sergio’s room for over twenty minutes now, and Addie’s curiosity was about to choke her. Did he talk to his father?
Camila’s quiet weeping made Addie’s own impending tears fall. She wiped them with the back of her hand and sniffed. Obviously, she hadn’t known Sergio for a long time, but she’d grown to like him. And even though she judged him for the way he let young Bruno leave the country instead of offering understanding, it didn’t matter.
The moment the door opened and Bruno walked out of his father’s bedroom, everyone’s attention shifted to him. With eyes red and glossy, he gave them a slow nod, which confirmed what they each already suspected. Bruno simply walked past them, not stopping even when Camila moved toward him.
Addie knew this was none of her business. She was an outsider, not really a part of the family, although sometimes she wished she was. Wouldn’t it be nice to belong to a large family? To have Camila to confide in, and invite Leonardo and Emanuel for lazy Sunday lunches? She chewed on her lower lip so the pain would pull her out of her reverie. Nonsense. She cared for his siblings, that was all.
Bruno was the one who needed her the most. With a nod, she followed him up to their suite and entered without knocking. He sat on the bed, lost in thought. She closed the door and went to him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she offered and bit her tongue before she babbled. This was his moment of sadness, and she couldn’t ask much from him. Not when she didn’t know what she wanted—or what he wanted. It didn’t seem fair to think like that when his father had just passed.
He raised his eyes to her, still not giving anything away.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked and sucked in her breath with a wild hope he didn’t want her to leave. And the scary thought that she belonged there, with him, at least for now.
He shook his head and tapped the bedspread beside him. She acquiesced and sat, her feet dangling from the high mattress. Uncertainty filled her. Should she hug him? Well, of course she should, and she wanted to. But his body language held her at bay—it was sad and resolute at the same time, his shoulders straight, his upper body stiff.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said at last.
“What for?”
“I talked to him.” He looked at her, probably just realizing what he’d said, and his lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “He’ll be okay,” he said louder this time, the need to convince himself obvious in his voice.
“I’m proud of you for talking to him. Will you be okay?” Addie imagined the combination of pain and relief he had to be experiencing.
He looked at her, and for a moment the unspoken words hung heavily between them. He took her hand in his, his thumb making an invisible pattern on her palm, and a surge of heat spread through her veins with the urgency of a high-speed rail.
He pulled her to him, and she fell back on the bed.
“Bruno, this isn’t a good idea.” A terrible idea. And she’d better voice it now, with control still within her reach.
“Help me be okay, Addie,” he demanded, his voice full of emotion.
His words had a bone-melting, toe-curling effect on her. He cupped her face with his hands. The suggestion to not make love and face his father’s death faded like dust in the air. He needed her, and that need matched her own for him. She hadn’t lost a father, but she was that close to losing him. This might very well be the last time they’d make love… And that possibility encouraged her to respond to his frantic kiss, to pull him closer, to run her hands over his back.
There was no right or wrong. There was just now.
Gently, without moving his lips from hers, he took them both to the center of the bed. She nipped on his lower lip and passionately stroked his tongue with hers. Without any finesse, she slid her hand down his jeans and tried to unzip him. But he was so close to her, his shaft already nestled between her thighs… She let out a frustrated moan as the realization sunk in that she needed to move away from him to h
ave enough room to remove his jeans.
Bruno sensed her predicament and chuckled. He planted a small kiss on her nose and moved away, just enough to prop himself on top of her, with one elbow on the bedspread while reaching lower on his body with the other. His cock sprang toward her the moment he unzipped his pants and slid them lower.
With hands and feet, she helped him pull his pants down until he kicked them off. He removed her shirt and shorts and, in the heat of the moment, pulled the top of her bikini to the side. With the friction of their bodies, the flimsy material of the bottom became untied. With little fanfare, he thrust inside her, and they both moaned, eyes closed. A surge of heat formed deep in her sex and bubbled up her body, leaving a trail of awareness in her burning stomach, quickened pulse, and heavy breasts. Her body responded to his automatically.
His eyes gleamed and carried the joy of a warm summer day. “I love you, Addie,” he blurted out.
She gasped. He loved her? Certainly, the loss of his father in addition to all the tension between them was to blame. He couldn’t mean it, could he?
“I love you,” he repeated, his face split into a winning smile. Maybe saying those words out loud freed him, but in contrast, they terrified her and pulled her into the unknown.
…
Bruno opened the door to the home office where he hadn’t been the last two days due to his father’s funeral. Unlike the US, in Brazil there was a wake and a funeral very quickly after a death. The memorial service hadn’t been easy, especially after the bursting of emotions he experienced within such a short amount of time. Thank God for Addie.
She had stuck by his side, having offered to help with whatever problems crossed their path after Pai’s death. Camila was still vulnerable and in full mourning mode, and Emanuel and Leonardo had been helping Bruno take care of all the funeral arrangements.
He still remembered the fear and surprise in Addie’s eyes when he’d professed his love. Perhaps it would take time for her to feel the same, but, damn it, he’d happily wait.
He’d waited too long to make peace with his father. He’d been afraid of his feelings. From now on, Bruno was no longer going to live in fear. It was time to move forward. She hadn’t said anything after the moments they shared, only embraced him tightly. And he’d decided not to push her. Which was why he hadn’t mentioned anything about his love for her again.
They continued to make love at night, where he showed her with his body the words he longed to repeat. But now, whether she loved him back or not, it was time he held up his end of the bargain and gave her what he had offered from the start.
Toca do Tigre.
He looked for the Brazilian lawyer’s contact information on his PC. He was picking up the thin, futuristic-looking phone Camila had insisted on putting in the otherwise austere office when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” He settled the phone back on the hook.
Leonardo walked in. Since their father’s death, his brother had barely talked to him. They had shared a couple of heartfelt hugs at the funeral, but for the most part Leonardo seemed distant and cold—but just with him. Not with Emanuel and Camila.
“We need to talk, Bruno.” Leonardo’s lips pressed into a thin line as he sat across from him. That was his brother, all right. All work and no fun. Bruno supposed he shouldn’t judge him—part of the person Leonardo was today had been because of Bruno departing Brazil and leaving his seventeen-year-old brother in charge of a family of five.
“Go ahead.”
Leonardo held his breath, then said, “Toca do Tigre has been sold.”
“What?”
“Pai asked me, the day before he died. He was really weak and thought he wouldn’t last one more night. He said he’d asked you to sell it, but you didn’t have the heart to do it. Therefore I called Lancaster and, since I have your power of attorney, closed the deal,” Leonardo explained, calmly. His stern expression showed no regret or pleasure over stabbing him in the back.
Bruno hit the table so hard, pain stung his knuckles. He stood up, powered by anger. “You’d better be fucking kidding me.”
“I’m not,” Leonardo said between his teeth. “Consider it a favor. I knew there was something fishy going on. Silas upped his offer, and you still didn’t take it. Addie seemed very involved. I ran into Serena at the courthouse, and she told me about Addie’s past. Then I thought, why would my brother marry someone like Addie? Someone who wanted to keep the land he should sell?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, but you better quit.”
“Quitting is your specialty. Not mine,” Leonardo hissed.
Maybe he quit on his family. Both when he left Brazil and throughout all those years when he never visited his father or home country and went through the motions as his siblings visited him. Despite what had happened to him, he could have made an effort. Blaming his siblings, his father, his childhood, no longer worked. Which was why he couldn’t quit on the Kwanis. He had to find a solution. He paced around the room, running his fingers through his hair. “There are lives involved.”
“And you didn’t care about them one bit before.”
“Why did you go behind my back, Leo?” He raised his voice.
“Because I’m protecting you and your assets. Did she blackmail you into marrying her? Does she know about your past?” Leonardo narrowed his eyes.
“It all goes back to it, doesn’t it? My past?” He curled his fist and slammed it on the desk. “Get the hell away from me, Leonardo. I can’t talk to you right now.”
He was tired of dealing with the past. For once, he wanted to focus on the future and on Toca do Tigre. He would fight for it, no matter what.
…
Addie searched for her body lotion on the heavy mahogany dresser in their room. Nothing. Where the hell was the damn thing? She was all about promoting change, but some things should just remain the way they were. Some people…should not have to go so soon.
Sergio da Souza Duarte had been buried in a peaceful cemetery with a moving eulogy. All of his buddies from his chess games, plus some family members and friends, attended the services. After the funeral, there was no going over to the family’s house for mourning. Most mourning was done before the burial, and the Duartes had been through enough in the past few months, she imagined, with his health deteriorating and death haunting him.
She headed to the opulent master bathroom and opened some drawers. Her dry skin begged for mercy. What she found, tucked away in the bottom of the second drawer she opened, was her necklace.
With a heavy sigh, she picked it up and stared at it. Michael.
If he had survived, would we still be together? The thought tugged at her mind. A month earlier she would have said yes.
But now…
Weren’t there times when she selfishly blamed him for risking his life to save someone, leaving her all alone? Would they have survived, if they’d shared a life together? Michael had been sweet and incredibly attentive. Yet she couldn’t remember him stirring her insides and crawling under her skin the way Bruno did.
An unfair comparison. Again, the fact she was able and willing to compare them told her she was not perfect.
Did she even want perfect?
Bruno’s words still rang in her ears. I love you, Addie. They had disarmed her, made her vulnerable, and she hadn’t been able to say the same in return. And although he hadn’t brought up the subject over the past few days, well, she could see in his eyes that he waited—patiently, which was not like him—for an answer.
The same way she waited to have the guts to come to terms with herself. What future did they have together? His father was dead, and out of respect she hadn’t mentioned anything about their deal. It was too soon, given how far they’d gotten. But, of course, she needed to know where that left them.
By saying he loved her, did he want to give the fake marriage a go and turn it into a real marriage? Did she? She looked at her confused reflection in the mirr
or. Lack of communication. Damn, it did feel like a true marriage already.
But the question throbbed in the hidden depths of her mind: Am I ready for it?
“Addie?” Bruno called from the bedroom.
She nervously dropped the necklace on the vanity and went to him.
“I need to tell you something,” he started, and, by the look on his face, it could go either way. For the past couple days, if she were honest with herself, he’d been strange, locked in the office day and night. She imagined he had tons to do after his father’s death, but couldn’t he ask for help from his siblings? Leonardo and Emanuel stopped by often enough to check on Camila. They’d be glad to help.
What if…
She gave him a nod and folded her arms.
“Toca do Tigre was sold.”
Her stomach knotted. “What?” She wanted to wait for him to chuckle and call it a joke. But his serious stance made it clear this was no joke. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, he shattered her dream, the future of many, and sliced her heart.
“The day when we were there… Leonardo has my power of attorney. My father asked him to seal the deal before his death, and they sold it, without telling me, to Lancaster.”
It didn’t make sense. “That…was a week ago.”
“I found out a few days after the funeral. I was surprised, too, trust me. I wanted to work things out before telling you. I’ve been in touch with Myro, and we found a good solution.” He offered her a compromising smile. How could he use his looks to bargain the sympathy vote? What was he, a politician? Worse.
“How about just sticking to your part of the deal?”
He stepped closer. “I’ll see to it. From our contract, my part of the deal was to help them relocate. When I was at Toca do Tigre, I decided to keep the land. I didn’t know they were selling it.”
Her voice finally caught up with her mind. “And you expect me to believe you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”
“But you lied to me. For almost a week, you made me believe everything was good.” You made me believe everything was good. She repeated the words inside, both hating him for lying and herself for falling for it. She closed her eyes, her fingers on her forehead as she desperately tried to think of how she could have found out he’d lied.
