One Night In Collection

by Various Authors

  Ellie stared at him with her jaw open. She couldn’t imagine such a thing—a mother abandoning her child like that! She forgot her anger at Diogo in the onslaught of pity, imagining him as a boy. “They didn’t want you to stay?”

  “My half sisters had me sent to an orphanage like a prison. There was no food. No clothes. So I ran away.” He gave her a hard smile. “Maria Carneiro found me on the streets and brought me home. Her oldest son taught me how to fight. Mateus taught me everything, and I looked up to him as my idol. Until I realized I wanted a different life than any favela could provide.”

  Looking at Diogo, Ellie couldn’t stop herself imagining an eight-year-old boy with a note pinned to his shirt. Bewildered and abandoned. Left on a doorstep for a father he’d never even met, then mocked and unwanted by half siblings. Taught to fight for food in the slums. Without a family, he’d been…

  Alone.

  No wonder he’d been so determined to make sure his own children didn’t suffer the same. In spite of herself, she couldn’t help feeling desperately sorry for what he’d experienced as a little boy.

  Sorry—for Diogo Serrador? There was a laugh!

  She shook her head. “But the whole world believes that you’re a Serrador—you attended the best schools and were born with a silver spoon in your mouth!”

  “After I made my first million, my half sisters decided to recognize me. I suddenly met their standards, since they’d already squandered their money buying royal European husbands.” He glanced out the window. “So I started paying their bills, and they generously awarded me the name of Serrador. Complete with a new biography that they found more flattering to their public image.”

  “And you forgave them,” she whispered.

  “Forgave?” He gave her an incredulous look. “It was purely a business decision. I knew my father’s connections would be useful. Gold and iron ore are not so different. Wrestling metal from the earth. Turning it into something that men will die for—that they will kill for.” He shrugged. “Taking my father’s name accelerated my company’s rise. I never planned to have children. I never thought…”

  “Thought what?”

  Shaking his head, he clenched his jaw. “I won’t let any child of mine suffer ever again. Not when I can protect them. Not when I know…”

  She looked at his taut jawline and cold dark eyes.

  “But our babies haven’t suffered, Diogo.” She timidly reached her hand over his own, pressing it against her belly. “They’re safe. See?”

  His haggard breathing calmed. The expression in his face lightened.

  Then changed.

  “Ellie,” he said hoarsely. He twisted a tendril of her hair around his finger. “You make me feel…”

  But he didn’t finish the sentence. He lowered his mouth to hers, stroking her tongue with his own and causing heat to rush up and down the length of her body. She wrapped her arms around his body, melting beneath the force of his touch.

  As he kissed her, the black SUV barreled swiftly through the dark jungle, pursued by the unearthly cries of birds, the howls of monkeys and the whispered echo of ancient, long-forgotten civilizations.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ELLIE WOKE WHEN THE Escalade stopped. She realized she’d spent the dark night with her head on Diogo’s shoulder, sleeping against him as they traveled over endless bumpy roads.

  He looked down at her. “We’re here.”

  “Where?” she said blearily.

  The driver opened their door. Diogo took her hand and led her from the mud-splattered Escalade. She felt the warmth and strength of his fingers, felt the scorching heat in his dark eyes. The chauffeur left the suitcase with the discreetly waiting servants and drove down the road in a cloud of dust.

  “Bahia. My beach house,” he said. “My favorite place in the world.”

  She saw a luxurious, contemporary beach house set on a sharp cliff over the Atlantic, silhouetted against the orange sunrise. Two sleek stories of glass windows overlooked swaying palm tress and an elegant infinity pool above a private white-sand beach.

  “Perfect for a honeymoon,” he said softly.

  “Honeymoon?” she faltered, but after a night cuddled up against his body in the backseat of the SUV, she couldn’t muster up the strength of her earlier defiance. “No,” she tried with more certainty than she felt. “Not going to happen.”

  “I assure you.” He looked down at her in a way that made her shiver. “You are going to be my wife in every way.”

  He picked her up and carried her over the threshold into the beach house. The rosy light of dawn shimmered through the wide windows, pooling everywhere around her as he set her gently down on the bed. She heard the roar of the ocean crashing outside, felt the fresh, salty tang of the breeze.

  He set her down against the mattress and she felt his hands everywhere. He cupped her breasts through her white lace dress.

  “You are mine, Ellie,” he murmured against her throat. “And I am yours.”

  “Mine?” she said, her voice choking with emotion. “Just mine?”

  He smiled. “While you are in my arms, querida,” he promised against her skin, “I am yours.”

  A feeble bargain, when offered his loyalty of the moment for an eternity of her own fidelity. But beneath his touch she still couldn’t protest the injustice. She was lost and adrift in sensation as he stroked her. Every nerve ending hummed with desire.

  Only Diogo could make her feel like this.

  Her breasts felt full and heavy as he yanked down the stretchy fabric of her dress, suckling her as he cupped the other mound roughly with his hand. She gasped aloud as his lips descended, the erotic pressure of his tongue causing crashes of pleasure in her as tempestuous as the waves against the beach outside.

  He slowly pulled off her dress. She was naked on the bed. He pulled off his own vest and shirt and slacks. Standing naked in front of her in the rising sunlight flooding the bedroom, he was illuminated like a Greek god.

  “You’re beautiful,” Ellie whispered, then blushed. She, a married woman and soon to be mother of two, blushed at her own forwardness!

  He looked surprised at her compliment. Then he lifted her heavy breasts in his large hands. “And you are magnificent.” He kissed slowly down the curve of her body, stopping to give her belly button a sensual lick with the tip of his tongue that made her shiver all over.

  Then he stopped, staring down at her belly.

  “I’m sorry I got you pregnant against your will,” he said in a low voice. “Sorry I had to force you to be my bride. And yet…” He looked up at her, and the stark emotion in his face made her catch her breath. “I find I’m not sorry at all.”

  Her heart stopped, then started to pound faster. He kissed her, running his hands up and down her hips, her belly, the inside of her thighs. He held her so fiercely, and yet so gently, that she felt lost.

  But he did something more. Something that threatened her to the core.

  Diogo wasn’t touching her as if he callously regarded her like a toy.

  He touched her as if he loved her.

  And it was doing crazy things to her mind. To her heart. Every caress seduced and lured her into far more than his bed. Every passionate stroke and lick against her flesh seduced her into falling back in love with him. Into a loveless life with a broken, bitter heart and an uncaring, cheating husband.

  And yet, she couldn’t stop…

  Diogo pulled her close against his naked chest, soft with coarse, black hair. She relaxed into his arms, relishing the warmth and protection of his arms.

  “Let me love you,” he whispered.

  He pushed her gently back against the bed. Brushing her hair from her cheek, he pulled off her bra and panties, kissing every inch of her skin as he moved against her.

  She tried to fight her desire, but with every stroke against her neck, against her thigh, against the backs of her knees, she was more completely his slave….

  The pleasure was unbearable. Sh
e didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or the intensity of her engorged breasts, but when he suckled her nipples, her back arched as she desperately pressed against him. He reached his hand between her legs.

  She gave an abrupt cry as she felt his fingers inside her. Pressing one thick finger, then two. Languorously, as if he had all the time in the world, he softly stroked her slick wetness, and her whole body tightened as she started to twist beneath his commanding touch.

  No. She stared up at the rhythmic swish of the ceiling fan above the bed. She couldn’t let Diogo do this. It was one thing to become his wife, or even to share his bed, but she couldn’t surrender. Not like this!

  Still stroking her with his fingers, he kissed softly up the inside of her thighs. With his other hand, he squeezed her breast.

  “Come for me,” he whispered hoarsely. She desperately shook her head. She couldn’t let herself surrender again. If she did, she would be accepting far more than just pleasure. She would be accepting her fate. She would love him completely, holding nothing back.

  “Always so stubborn,” he whispered. “We will see who wins.”

  He lowered his head between her legs. She felt the warmth of his breath between her thighs, felt his fingers stretch her wide. She felt his rough tongue against her core, licking first with the tip and then lapping her with the full breadth of his tongue. And shaking, she could bear it no more. Writhing beneath him, her back arched from the bed as her desperate cry exploded from her lips.

  The instant she gasped aloud, he moved. Positioning himself between her legs, he pushed inside her with a slow, deep thrust. For an instant, she felt split apart even as her body shook with impossible pleasure. Then he thrust again. Each was deeper than the last. Her hips moved to join him as he pushed inside her, riding her hard and deep. For Ellie the pleasure was so close to pain that it pushed her higher still, turning her cry of surrender into a scream that she barely recognized as her own.

  She felt the muscles of his back tense beneath her touch. He thrust into her one last time with an explosive, triumphant roar. Then he collapsed against her.

  It took several long minutes before she came back to earth. She heard the pant of her own breath mingled with his. Felt the slick sweat of their bodies between them. She realized he was still holding her tightly. As if, she thought in wonder, she were a life raft and he was a drowning man.

  She looked down at his dark head, his handsome face pressed against her naked chest.

  She’d once promised herself then that when she grew up, she would have a marriage of best friends. Of equals. Partners.

  This was nothing like those sweet girlish dreams. There was nothing of heaven in this marriage. This was earthy. Dark. Hot. These were the sweaty, physical, real seductions of hell.

  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.”

  “Yes.” He ran his hand wearily over the back of his head. “Someday I will tell you. But not now.”

  She felt angry tears spring to her eyes. “You can’t honestly expect me to share you!”

  He ground his jaw. “Querida—”

  “Don’t call me that! Don’t you dare insult my intelligenc
e by pretending you actually care about me!”

  “You will share me, Ellie. You have no choice. Just as I will have no choice but to share you.”

  “I would never—”

  “With our children,” he interrupted.

  She shook her head angrily. “It’s not the same thing!”

  “I will give you and our babies a good home. You will have untold wealth and the protection of my name. Don’t ask more from me. Not yet.”

  “But I’m your wife!”

  His eyes looked dark. “There are some things that a man doesn’t discuss with his wife. Especially not with his wife.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t believe that. Wouldn’t believe it. Why couldn’t he just admit he had a mistress and put her out of her misery of wondering? How could they have any marriage at all if they couldn’t even be honest?

  “Who is she?” she whispered. “Is she beautiful?”

  “I’m done discussing this,” he said coldly. “Accept that I have my secrets, and be content.”

  If only she could do that. Pregnant with twins, married to a handsome billionaire, she had everything most women would want. So what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just be happy, without crying out for his love and fidelity in the bargain?

  “Fine,” she said in a clipped voice. “Keep your secrets.”

  “Get dressed.” His face was hard as he turned from her. “We must return to Rio immediately.”

  She gasped at him. “Now? But we just got here! Our honeymoon…”

  “Our honeymoon is over,” he said. “I have business in Rio.”

  Yeah, she thought. She could just imagine what kind of business. A vivacious redhead with impossibly long legs, or a sultry, experienced brunette with skills in bed that Ellie couldn’t hope to match.