Strangely, she hadn’t received a request for money after the third arrival. Not that she planned to pay it now that Renaldo knew. There was no point. She’d paid because she’d been afraid to lose everything, but she’d lost anyway.
Renaldo had made it clear he wanted her to exit the marriage with nothing more than she’d brought into it, but during their recent conversation he hinted that could change. If he offered her a settlement, she would take it, but a little part of her dared to hope that maybe there was more to this meeting.
Maybe the time apart had caused him to think and soften his stance toward her. Now that she finally had a chance to speak to him in person, she could plead her case and convince him to change his mind about the divorce. It was worth a shot. He’d loved her once. Was it too much to hope that he could love her again?
Chapter Three
Renaldo sat at a small, round table near the back of a café he frequented, popular to the select few who knew of its existence in the historic part of downtown. The lunch crowd had already dispersed. Only about a third of the tables around him were occupied. He’d chosen this spot for two reasons. One, because they had some of the best coffee he’d ever tasted, and two, if he’d met Sabrina in private, he was afraid his hands would somehow find their way around her beautiful neck.
From his position next to a window, he had a good view of the street. He held his breath the minute he saw Sabrina descend from a taxi. She looked amazing. Vibrant, as if she hadn’t suffered at all since they’d been apart. She wore a fitted, short-sleeved maroon dress that hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her womanly curves and reminding him of how she used to feel in his arms.
He loved her in red tones—maroon, burgundy, rose. They underscored the color of her skin—barely darker than his—in a flattering way. Had she worn that dress on purpose to influence him? The short hemline gave him an eyeful of long, honey-colored legs that looked stunning in a pair of heels the same color as her dress.
Her hair had grown since she’d moved to Brazil, now below her shoulders in a display of neatly arranged spiral curls. The highlights in her chestnut hair shone like burnished copper under the sun’s rays as she left the sidewalk and made her way inside the café. She turned heads as her tall body glided forward with a level of confidence that reminded him of the first time he’d set eyes on her in the bar in Chicago. She’d been striking then, and she was striking now.
Despite what she’d done, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, tracking her movements like a starving man who had a mouth-watering tender cut of grilled steak dangled in front of him. Being without her had been difficult, because the disgusting part of this whole ordeal was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He still wanted her, ached for her. He could feel the tension taking control of his muscles.
He’d like to think the more time they spent apart, the easier it would be to forget her and the hold she had on him, but that hadn’t happened. His craving for her had never faded. He needed to maintain control where she was concerned, but it was impossible because her presence always evoked strong emotions in him.
He couldn’t evade the traitorous thought of her sensuous curves stretched out in their bed, or the resulting raw heat of desire that pulsated through his body. He could see her now, taking him deeper, matching him stroke for stroke.
His weakness for her was reprehensible. He reminded himself he’d had to replace their bed because she’d defiled it by inviting another man into it. It had been the first thing to go after he’d tossed her out that night. But look at her. She still had the power to stir him, regardless of what she’d done. He hated that. Hated remembering how good it had been.
Had it been like that for them?
The host led her to his table. He stood, the habit long ingrained. “Sabrina.”
“Renny.” Her light brown eyes were curious, yet guarded when they met his black ones.
“I prefer Renaldo,” he said, pulling out her chair. She winced, and he knew the message had been driven home.
Hearing her use the nickname she’d given him made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he wanted to make it clear that they were no longer on such intimate terms. She’d been the only person he’d ever allowed to shorten his name. Not even his own sisters referred to him by anything other than his given name.
“If that’s what you want,” she said softly as she sat.
The familiar scent of her favorite perfume—pink lilies—taunted him, and he took a silent, steadying breath. He gripped the chair rather than doing what he wanted to, his fingers itching to sink into her thick, lustrous hair so he could claim her delicious mouth. Amazing how, even now, just the smell of her could set his teeth on edge and his blood burning.
With a quick readjustment to his brain, he pushed the chair in and took his own seat across from her. The waiter appeared, and while they discussed Sabrina’s order, he watched the way she smiled at the other man. Her lips, naturally a deep coral color, were covered in a shimmering red lipstick, which brought attention to their fullness.
Lips he’d tasted. Lips that had—
His groin ached as he remembered the feel of those lips around his erection—pulling, sucking, giving him unspeakable pleasure. Had she done the same with her lover? Had she sucked him dry and licked her lips as if she’d never before had such a tasty treat?
Renaldo gritted his teeth and let his eyes rove over the well-dressed diners sipping coffees, unaware of the thoughts that ravaged his memories and had tormented him since the day he’d seen those photos. His beautiful wife giving what should be his alone to another man.
He came back to the present when the waiter walked away from the table.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me.” Renaldo was amazed he could sound so normal when he really wanted to rail against her.
“I didn’t feel as if I had a choice. You didn’t divulge much over the phone.”
“I thought it would be better if we spoke in person.” The best way to deal with Sabrina was the direct approach. They were alike in that respect. Neither of them liked to beat around the bush. “I have a proposition for you. As you know, we’re still in the probation period for Estação Central, but you and I are on our way to a divorce because of your…extramarital activities.” Her only response was the movement along her delicate throat. He watched it for a moment, entranced, before the memory of his tongue tasting that sweet skin threatened to overwhelm him. “We both know how important this real estate project is for Mayor Salazar. He wants to leave a mark on the city, the same way Mayor Kassab did when he created the Clean City Law.”
The law had banned all outdoor advertising. Although the law had been controversial during its inception, Sao Paulo—and as a result, Mayor Kassab—had become a model for other large cities around the world to emulate. Mayor Salazar wanted a similar legacy before he left office.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“Your experience and education were included in the proposal, like everyone else listed as key personnel at SDG. If Mayor Salazar finds out you’re no longer with the company, it could potentially void our proposal.”
“So…are you saying you want me to come back to work?” There was a hopeful lilt in her voice.
“Not exactly,” he answered, noting how the light dulled in her eyes at his words.
“Then what is it that you want?”
What he wanted was an honest wife. But that seemed to be too much to ask.
He presented the letter from the mayor, and while she read it, he explained. “I think we should call a halt to the divorce proceedings—at least temporarily.”
She lifted her gaze, and he was struck by the fact that she had the most amazing eyes. Almost the color of amber with flecks of darker brown. They reminded him of a tiger-eye gemstone. When she was aroused, the darker brown dominated.
His body pulsed at the thought, and it took monumental effort to refocus his mind to the business at hand
. “I’d also like you to come back to the office a few times over the next few weeks and show your face—purely as a figurehead, of course—and do the interview and attend the dinner with me. Once the probation period is over, we’ll continue with the divorce and go our separate ways.” He watched closely for her reaction.
Sabrina frowned. “You want me to pretend we’re still together and everything is fine?”
“Pretending shouldn’t be a problem for you,” he said smoothly. “You’ve done an excellent job so far.”
She took a deep breath. “What is it that you’re offering me?”
“Why am I not surprised you asked me that?”
Sabrina’s cheeks colored.
“I’ll give you two million US dollars.”
The waiter arrived and set the coffee in front of Sabrina who waited until he left to say, “No. Renaldo, I don’t want two million dollars. What I want—”
“Not enough?” Renaldo felt his temperature rise several degrees. He’d purposely low-balled her and was prepared to go higher, but he did have a ceiling. “Three million.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and he could see the wheels turning as she made calculations in her head. “That’s a lot of money.”
Yet she didn’t look appreciative. She looked almost…disappointed. There was only one reason for that type of look. Greed. Pure and simple. She’d expected more because she knew how much the project was worth and the financial health of the company—maybe better than he did—down to the last centavo.
“Is that it? That’s why you wanted to see me?”
“That’s not enough? What more do you want, Sabrina?” Clearly she was determined to wring every dime she could out of him.
“I thought that—” She looked down at the table, but not before he saw a suspicious sheen in her eyes. He stared at her. What was going on in that head of hers? She took a breath and lifted her gaze to him. Her eyes looked clear and dry, and he realized he must have been mistaken by what he thought he saw. “Why not four or five million?”
Her tone was flippant, and it rankled, but he wasn’t surprised she’d asked for more. Her cooperation was worth more. Taking a sip of his coffee, Renaldo watched her over the brim of the cup. He set it down. “Fine. Five. But I can’t have you jeopardizing this deal. You’ll have to move back into the penthouse.”
This time she couldn’t hide her reaction. Her expressive eyes filled with shock, unable to believe what he’d suggested.
He couldn’t either. Having her move back into their home hadn’t been part of the original plan, but it made sense. It would enable him to keep an eye on her and bring an end to any gossiping about their relationship. That was the only reason he would have her back there, invading his home and his privacy.
Certainly not because he wanted to be close to her.
Chapter Four
You’ll have to move back into the penthouse.
Sabrina examined her husband in stunned silence. Her brain said he couldn’t be serious, but her eyes insisted he was.
This wasn’t the type of reconciliation she’d hoped for when he called. Being apart from him had been a nightmare she kept hoping to wake up from. It was like she was haunted by his image.
For the first couple of weeks, she’d remained on Jewel’s sofa most of the day, not wanting to face the world or a future without him. When she did leave the apartment, everywhere she looked she thought she saw him: sipping a coffee in a nearby cafe, seated in a taxi rolling down the street, or walking ahead of her on the sidewalk. Even in sleep she hadn’t been able to escape, dreaming about him and waking up in the middle of the night, wishing he was there with her.
He was always a gentleman and had risen to his feet when she approached the table. She almost wished he hadn’t because she’d smelled his cologne—a scent which had made her want to lean into the solid strength of his body, missing being encased in his warm, loving arms.
With a steadying breath and the straightening of her spine, she faced him down. She had to eliminate the emotion out of their conversation and think logically. She’d learned the art of negotiation from him. It was a choreographed dance, and Renaldo had a knack for knowing when to massage a deal or when to stand firm. She enjoyed watching him in action—the back and forth between him and the opposing side, how he’d wear them down until he ultimately got what he wanted.
Persistence. That’s how he’d gotten her naked the first night they met.
“I’m not moving back in with you.” Not under the circumstances he suggested. He hadn’t missed her after all, and he only wanted her back because of a business deal.
“It’s the best way to ensure that no one knows we’re separated. We need to behave as if everything is normal.”
“If I were to agree to this, and that’s a big if—I’d want some kind of contract drawn up to protect my interests. I’ll need to discuss this with my attorney.”
“No need. The contracts have already been prepared. It’s a good deal, and she will advise you to sign it.”
“How do you know?”
His lips curled upward in a cynical, humorless smile.
Her stomach dropped. “What did you do? Did you bribe her?”
“Of course not. I don’t issue bribes.”
No, not directly. He’d have someone else do it. “I’ll get another lawyer,” Sabrina said, feeling her pulse thunder.
“Why go through such an exercise and waste valuable time when the result will be the same?”
Sabrina swallowed past the tightness in her throat. He’d do what needed to be done to get his way. He always did. How ironic. One of the things she’d found so attractive about him was now being used against her.
She’d known he was a wealthy man when she met him, but she hadn’t fully understood until she’d moved to the country and seen the extent of his power and influence as part of the upper echelon of the business elite. When they’d met, he’d downplayed his level of success. He ran one of the top real estate investment firms in the country. Considering he’d rebuilt the company after his mother’s poor management, it was quite an impressive feat for a man of twenty-nine years.
She couldn’t believe he’d gotten to her attorney. No wonder her suggestions always seemed to be met with resistance. This was part of the quiet power he wielded. He could get to anyone and do almost anything. Now he was exerting this power by forcing her to take what he offered, or risk getting nothing at all.
“What you did is unethical.”
“And what you did is immoral. What a lovely pair we make.”
She winced internally as the verbal blow landed with precision across her conscience. “So you admit you got to my lawyer?”
“I admit nothing.”
He didn’t have to. He wasn’t foolish enough to approach her attorney himself. He would use an intermediary—a despachante, and Paulo had probably arranged it. A despachante facilitated business transactions in Brazil. In a country where long lines and onerous red tape could prolong the timetable of normal transactions, they were invaluable.
They knew the right people in government to get things done and knew how to grease the wheels. Their efforts often entered gray areas—areas which by U.S. standards would be considered illegal but were normal here. An efficient despachante had made it possible for her to get her work visa and permanent resident status in record time after their wedding.
Money was not always offered. In some cases, greasing the wheel could be as simple as providing a favor such as getting a contract, getting a license to do business, the speedy processing of documents—anything of value to the other party. Whatever he’d offered her attorney, it had been enough to get her to turn against her own client.
Sabrina felt backed into a corner and clutched her purse in her lap. “I won’t be coerced into signing anything until I have adequate legal representation.”
“You have adequate representation. Haven’t you been happy with your attorney so far?”
“Now tha
t I know she’s been in your pocket the entire time,” Sabrina said through gritted teeth, “I’m not so sure I ever even received representation, much less an adequate one.”
There was no telling what types of clauses had been written into the contract, and it would be written in Portuguese. After a year she spoke it well, but reading a legal document in the language was difficult. Hell, she had a hard time understanding contracts written in English.
“You’re worrying too much.” Renaldo sat back in the chair, completely relaxed. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across his knuckles. “What you need to concentrate on is the amount of money you stand to gain versus your situation right now. I am prepared to pull my offer if you don’t agree. You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you can see the benefit of accepting.”
“You’re not doing me any favors. I deserve that money, Renaldo. You know it’s true. I worked hard at that company.”
“As an employee—and like every other employee, you were compensated. This is extra.”
He’d never referred to her as simply an employee before. He’d always said she was his partner—partner in business and partner in life.
“I was more than simply an employee. I was an asset to your company. You told me often enough.” Sabrina lifted her head. She knew her worth, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it now.
Together they’d made a formidable team. Their greatest achievement had come when they’d beaten out nine other companies and won the bid to renovate Estação Central. It was a multi-million dollar deal—the largest in SDG history, and she’d been a part of it. No matter what snide remarks Renaldo made, he couldn’t take that away from her.
He took another sip of his coffee, restrained power beneath the perfectly cut, three-piece, black Armani suit. While other men wore Armani to make themselves look good, Renaldo, with his stunning good looks and thick, muscular body, made the suit look good.
He was the epitome of the cosmopolitan male. His raven-colored hair was always neatly groomed and trimmed short. Never ruffled, except when she’d threaded her fingers through it. The black Italian leather shoes on his feet gleamed from a fresh polish. Gold cuff links and a solid-colored silk tie completed his look of simple elegance.
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