Angelique—living with them? She stared at him, aghast. “You just need to be firm.”
“Be firm?” He gave her a gaunt smile. “With a five-year-old child? Drag her kicking and screaming from her home? I haven’t the heart, Ellie. I can’t do it.” Sounding weary, he added beneath his breath, “God help me, I don’t know what to do.”
She stared at him for a moment. Gently, she reached over and stroked his dark hair. He looked utterly beaten. Diogo Serrador, the barbarian of Wall Street and scourge of the steel industry, looked defeated and destroyed.
Ellie stroked his head. Closing his eyes, he gave a sigh, turning his cheek toward her caress.
She had to do something. She couldn’t bear to see him suffer like this. Or the poor child, either. She had to fix this. Had to make them whole again.
“I am going to help you,” she said steadily.
Diogo opened his eyes to look at her. His expression looked so vulnerable. Strikingly boyish. And she realized that he blamed himself for everything. For Yasmin’s death. For his daughter’s pain. The child he hadn’t even known existed until a few months ago…
“What will you do?”
She kissed him softly on the forehead. “I’ll go talk to her. It’s going to be all right, Diogo,” she said. “I promise.”
The terrible hope in his eyes as he watched her go almost broke her heart.
She went down the hall to the kitchen, but didn’t find either Catia or her nanny. Frowning, Ellie went upstairs. She stopped when she heard voices behind a bedroom door.
“Your daddy doesn’t love you,” she heard Angelique say. “He’s just like the other bad man I told you about, the one who hurt your mama. I’m the only one who can keep you safe. If you let him take you from the house, he will hit you and yell. Unless I’m with you. So just remember—don’t leave here without me! And then—” her voice changed, becoming calculating “—I’ll marry him and never have to work again…”
The little girl said something so softly that Ellie couldn’t hear. The nanny gave a hard snort.
“Oh—her. She’s not your new mommy. But don’t worry. We’ll soon be rid of her.”
Ellie threw open the door. She saw a smug nanny and tearful child, and fury went through her to her bones.
“What are you telling her?” she demanded.
“What do you mean?” Angelique said with an innocent smile. “Just telling her to be a good girl for her father. Shall we go down now for lunch, madam?”
Ellie grabbed the other woman’s wrist. “You horrible, horrible woman. You—are fired.”
“Fired!” Real fear went through her eyes. “You can’t fire me! Only Mr. Serrador can do that!”
“Get out!” Ellie shouted, and the woman ran. “Get out before I hit you with my shoe!”
Catia gave a terrified little squeak, and Ellie fell on her knees in front of her. “It’s all right, sweetie,” she said gently. “It’s all right. Angelique was just being mean. And wrong. Your father loves you. He would never, ever hurt you!”
She tried to give her a hug, but the girl shrank back with a fearful gasp. Poor Catia really believed every evil lie that Angelique had told her. Desperately, Ellie said, “We want you to come home with us, to stay—”
“No!”
Tears filled her eyes at the motherless child’s confusion and grief. She took a deep breath, praying for a way to reach her. “We want you with us. You’ll have your very own room. Lots of toys, and—”
“No!” she shrieked. “I won’t go!”
“And siblings,” Ellie continued desperately, hardly knowing what she was saying. “A baby brother and sister to play with very soon…”
The shrieks abruptly ended.
Staring at her, Catia sucked in her breath with a hiccup. Ellie was afraid to say a word to break the spell.
“Babies?” the girl finally whispered. “A brother and a sister?”
Ellie nodded. She put her hands on her loose white shirt, showing off her gently swelling belly. “Your father and I are going to have twins, Catia. In early November.”
“But… then… why do you want me?” she asked falteringly.
Blinking back tears, Ellie stroked her dark hair. “The babies need a big sister to show them how to play.”
“Oh,” Catia breathed with longing. “I can do that. I can show them how to play with a ball, and ride a bike, and lots of things…”
“I know you can.” Ellie held out her hand. “We want you in our family, Catia. We love you. We need you.”
“You do?” The girl looked up timidly.
“Yes!” Tears were running down Ellie’s face and she didn’t even try to wipe them away. Within hours, she’d already come to love this motherless girl who desperately wanted to belong, to be safe, to be loved. Just as Ellie once had….
Holding her breath, Ellie waited, hand extended.
Tentatively, Catia placed her small hand in her own.
Joy flooded Ellie’s heart. “You won’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I promise. You’ll always be safe and happy with us.”
Together, they walked down the stairs.
In the salon, she saw Angelique Price making her case to Diogo, who was standing by the fireplace with a hard expression. But having once seen his heart, Ellie now realized that unfeeling arrogance was just the mask he wore over a heart that felt too much.
A heart just like her own.
“Your new wife is jealous of the child, Mr. Serrador,” the beautiful nanny was pleading, putting her graceful hand on his arm. “She’s crazy! Don’t let her take the child from me. I think she intends to do the little girl some harm. She’s trying to get rid of me so she can send Catia off to boarding school—or worse. If you love your daughter, for God’s sake, don’t let her fire me!”
They both looked up as Ellie and Catia came down the stairs. Diogo’s face lit up in astonished wonder at the sight of his daughter holding Ellie’s hand.
“I’m ready, Papa,” the little girl said shyly. “I want to go home to our family.”
“Oh, pequena,” he gasped.
She held out her thin arms. Diogo raced halfway up the stairs and took the little girl in his arms. This time, there could be no doubting the brilliance of her smile.
“After all,” she chirruped happily, “someone has to teach those babies how to play!”
He hugged the child fiercely, looking at Ellie over her shoulder.
“Thank you, Ellie,” he whispered, and there were tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“She can’t be trusted,” Angelique howled shrilly. “Who are you going to believe, her or me?”
With his free hand, Diogo took his wife’s hand in his own.
“I believe my wife fired you,” he said coolly. “You have five seconds before I toss you out the door.”
“You wouldn’t.”
He took a step toward her, and Angelique fled.
Diogo turned back to his little family.
“Come,” he said tenderly. “Let’s go home.” He kissed the back of Ellie’s hand. And in his dark eyes, she saw a new warmth—and beneath it, the promise of fire.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I’m going to take her from you.
DIOGO STARED DOWN AT the note in his hands.
He’d shrugged off the notes at first. The first one, in his briefcase when he returned from a business trip to New York in early June. The next on his private plane in September. Now this one, tucked in the car that his wife and daughter used in Rio.
Guilherme swore he didn’t know how the notes got into the Bentley, and Diogo believed him. So how had they gotten there?
But he already knew who’d sent them, knew it down to his bones. Timothy Wright. The ruined lawyer had gone underground, hunted by the American police—and now apparently determined to take his revenge against the former boss who’d given evidence against him.
How was Wright leaving notes like this, in Diogo’s private, protected world? In spite of
all his bodyguards? Was the man a ghost—a demon?
I’m going to take her from you.
Diogo crumpled the note in his hands and tossed it into a trash can on the street outside the Carlton Palace.
His men would track Wright down. But why was it taking so long? Diogo couldn’t protect his family if he couldn’t find his enemy. He’d had enough, he thought with a growl. It was time for him to call all his men—and call in some favors.
He wanted the bastard found.
Getting out of the elevator on the ninth floor, he gave his waiting bodyguards instructions. Pedro promised he’d take extra care, but Diogo was still tense as he pushed open the door into the penthouse.
Two pairs of feminine eyes looked up at him happily from the kitchen. Catia wore a fancy pink dress and a tiara. Next to her, Ellie was heavily pregnant, gorgeous and radiant wearing a simple black knit maternity top and straight-legged pants.
“Papa, you’re home just in time!” Catia chortled. “I made dinner all by myself!”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing from his pretty, glowing wife to his daughter. Ellie was due to have the babies any day, while Catia had really blossomed from the five months in her care. Her young face sparkled beneath her tiara.
“Dinner smells delicious,” he told her. “I’ve never had a princess cook my dinner before!”
“Oh, Papa. The dress isn’t for cooking your dinner,” the little girl giggled. “I’m a princess for Beatriz’s party!”
Diogo dimly recalled that a Brazilian general’s daughter was having a slumber party for several friends from their private school. Halloween was increasingly celebrated in Rio—Cariocas always on the lookout for another excuse for a party.
“Do you like my tiara?” Catia reached up on her head to touch it. “Mom and I glued on the rhinestones ourselves!”
“It was fun,” Ellie said, hugging the little girl and tousling her hair affectionately. She glanced up at Diogo with a sudden laugh. “Oh, I just spoke with my grandmother…”
“Yes?” he said innocently.
“She got the birthday present you sent, and she’s the envy of all her friends. You really don’t fool around when you give presents, do you?”
“The grandmother who raised you deserves the best.”
Ellie’s blue eyes glowed. “I can’t imagine what possessed you to send a seventy-year-old woman a yellow Ferrari, but she’s been joyriding all over Pennsylvania.”
“I saw that orange lipstick, and knew it would take a lot to impress her.”
“Gran says she’s never had so much fun in her life. She really wants us to move back.” She paused. “She sent me a link to all these great schools in New York…”
Not this old argument again. Irritated, he shook his head. “There are good schools here.”
“I know. I know. But New York…” Her voice trailed away wistfully.
“Mom!” Catia wailed. “It’s burning!”
Ellie helped her stir the sauce, then handed Diogo the spoon. He tasted it with gusto. “Estava delicioso! Meus cumprimentos ao chefe.”
“My compliments to the chef,” Ellie translated easily.
“Your Portuguese is improving!”
“Obrigada,” she said with a grin. “I’ve had a good teacher.” Ellie’s eyes met his over the stove impishly. “By the way, I let Luisa have the night off,” she said with studied innocence. “While Catia’s at her slumber party, I’m afraid we’ll be all alone…”
“We will, eh?” The sexy, mischievous look in her eyes sent a thrill through his body. Even at nearly nine months pregnant, she was the sexiest woman in the world to him. They made love every night. And with Catia at her friend’s house, the whole evening stretched before them, hours and hours to laugh and play in the most adult way possible…
I’m going to take her from you. His jaw clenched. He looked over the penthouse with critical eyes. Ellie had made many changes over the last few months. The white walls, hard furniture, and steel-and-glass artwork were all gone. The walls were now a creamy yellow. The tables were glossy wood with bowls of flowers, and the sofas were plush and comfortable. Pictures of their family, of Catia in front of the Statue of Liberty on a recent trip to New York, of the three of them laughing together at the beach house last month, now lined the walls.
It felt like his home in a way it never had before. He loved it anew. Not because of the large windows and gorgeous view, but because of Catia… and Ellie.
But the windows are too large, he thought now with a scowl. Even with the bodyguards outside and on the floor below, the building had the public access of a hotel. Security might be breached. It was too vulnerable by half. He had to find Wright. Now. “I’ll be back,” he told Ellie abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” she said, looking at him with piercing eyes.
Maldição, he had a hard time lying to her. But he wanted her greatest concern to be shopping for baby clothes and playing with Catia. Not worrying about some crazed man from their past who wished them harm.
It wasn’t that he thought Ellie was too weak to deal with it. On the contrary. He’d realized her strength when he saw her coming down those stairs in Leblon holding Catia’s hand. She’d achieved the impossible that day—done something that Diogo could not do no matter how hard he’d tried.
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 h
im 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.
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