From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride

by Olivia Gates

  “Really? Did you fathom her father?”

  “I was a child.”

  “I meant tonight.”

  Rafael gritted his teeth. He hadn’t. Beyond being shocked, beyond knowing Ferreira was a monster, he still hadn’t felt it.

  Richard read his answer in his silence. “You seem to have a serious glitch in your judgment where this family is concerned.” A beat. “Did you know that, besides being groomed to be her father’s right hand, she does a lot of charity work and volunteering? And that her main focus is orphanages?”

  Rafael’s heart stopped. Then it boomed out of control.

  Unable to bear Richard’s presence anymore, he hissed, “Leave.”

  Richard gave a shrug that said his work here was done then walked away.

  At the door he turned, flexing his jaw. “See to that hand. I hope it’s broken. It should be a reminder of what this woman has cost you—and will continue to cost you if you don’t stay away from her.”

  Staring after Richard, the pain in his hand throbbed as he stood over the wreckage he’d caused, in the room where he’d found perfection with Eliana. A metaphor for how everything was in ruins at his feet.

  Orphanages and helpless children...this was where he couldn’t afford rationalizations. That could be too much of a coincidence. And the implications could be...gruesome.

  Orphanages were a perfect recruiting ground for the Organization, full of children no one would defend or miss. So had Ferreira found his sale too lucrative? Was he still supplying children? Was she working with him, getting to know those children, to pick the best specimens...?

  Deus. He couldn’t even contemplate that his Eliana...

  But his Eliana might not be real. The only Eliana might be Ferreira’s.

  If that were true, if everything he’d felt from her was a perfect facade, if she was her father’s accomplice, he’d crush both of them to dust beneath his feet.

  Five

  Ellie felt as if something had been crushed inside her.

  She kept pressing her hand to her chest, as if to hold the damaged part back together until it mended. But its sharp edges kept poking into her vitals.

  It had been twenty hours since she’d run out of Rafael’s mansion at midnight...and yes, the irony wasn’t lost on her.

  But she was no Cinderella and her prince had turned out to be a predator. As she should have expected, from all the improbabilities.

  Ever since she’d fled the scene, she’d been counting the hours. The minutes. Waiting for the misery to subside, for the memory of everything she’d had with him to fade. But time only magnified everything and smashed the broken shards to smaller pieces.

  Which was absolutely stupid...and that was precisely what she was. Anyone would consider her the dumbest woman on earth if they knew the speed with which and extent to which she’d been bowled over by Rafael. And that she’d gone further, done something she’d never done before. She’d trusted him. With her safety, with her heart, with...everything. She’d opened herself so totally, had been so completely unguarded, his unprovoked blow had caused that much damage.

  It was pathetic to feel that way when she’d known him only hours. But she’d been so under his spell she’d felt she’d known him forever. Now she knew the truth. What she’d thought a perfect coming together had just been a cheap interlude between a naive moth and a bored flame.

  But even knowing that, she hadn’t been able to stop crying. When she never cried. Tears flowed again every time a memory replayed with such acuteness and clarity. Each look, each touch, each word from him. The man she’d felt so attuned to, so connected to. Who’d turned out to be just another player, only one on a level she hadn’t known existed.

  Not that that was an excuse. Everything inside her fluctuated from regret for all the beauty that had turned out to be a crude illusion to anger at him for being such a perfect fiend to humiliation that she’d been such an eager mark.

  She’d had to run to the bathroom three times while playing with the kids so they wouldn’t see her tears. Not that she’d been able to hide her condition from their anxious eyes. But their frantic questions and hugs had made her feel worse, and angry enough at herself to rein in her rampant emotions.

  For these orphaned or abandoned children to feel worried and sorry for her when it was they who depended on the goodwill and intermittent care of people like her was a slap that had roused her from wallowing in self-pity.

  It also made her knock herself over the head for thinking of canceling her Friday-night entertainment. She wasn’t letting a hoarse voice, a puffy face and a broken heart stop her from giving the kids the weekly bedtime performance they’d come to crave over the past month.

  She now announced that their entertainment was about to begin, and all the kids ran to their beds excitedly.

  They were thirty-six in this ward, from seven to ten years old. She loved all one hundred and twenty kids in Casa do Sol Orphanage, but this ward was extra special and her most enthusiastic audience. And one boy really stood out. She’d clicked with him on so many levels from the first moment, too. But, unlike Rafael, she was sure Diego was who he seemed to be.

  The eight-year-old now helped her make a final rundown of her props, put her phone in the portable dock and sound system, then raced back to his bed with a huge smile of anticipation on his face.

  Once everyone was in bed, she started performing, complete with dramatic music and on-the-fly costume changes. She always gave them her version of fairy tales, and in this one, Snow White was a Robin Hood–like character with the Seven Dwarves as her swashbuckling sidekicks, and she saved Prince Charming from being turned into a heartless monster by the Evil Queen, who wanted him to be her consort.

  Once deep into the story, she forgot everything as she jumped on beds, whirled and swooped and changed voices, wigs and clothes and had the kids kicking in bed with laughter.

  “And they lived interestingly ever after.”

  She took an exaggeratedly deep bow at the kids’ fervent applause as the music ended with a flourish.

  After stowing all the props in her rolling suitcase, she went from bed to bed kissing and tucking the children in. As usual, she left Diego for last. This time she slipped him the eReader she’d promised him so he could read under the covers. He was The Book Gobbler, one of the things they had in common.

  As Diego clung around her neck, he whispered in her ear, “Will you ask your friend to come a little earlier next time so he can visit us?”

  She withdrew to look down at the dark-haired, brown-eyed boy, thinking he’d assigned her an imaginary friend like the one he’d invented for himself. Smiling, she kissed his smooth, olive-skinned cheek. “So what does my friend look like?”

  “He looks like a superhero.”

  “Does he wear a costume and cape?”

  “No, he was wearing light blue jeans and a black jacket with a black T-shirt. And his left hand is in a dark blue splint.”

  Okay. That was pretty detailed. She didn’t know Diego had such a knack for dressing his characters.

  “That’s regular clothes. And the splint is proof he’s not invulnerable. So why do you say he looks like a superhero?”

  “Because he must be seven feet tall and looks like Batman in his secret identity. He entered in the middle of your story and no one else noticed him. He put a finger on his lips, so I wouldn’t interrupt you. Is he your friend or your husband?”

  “No one else noticed him, huh...?” The rest caught in her throat, all hairs standing on end. With the relative silence and stillness in the ward, she suddenly felt it. That aura.

  She swung her head to the door in time to see a huge shadow separating from the darkness of the entrance vestibule.

  Rafael.

  Heaving up to her feet, blood didn’t follo
w to her head. She struggled to remain upright as he approached. And he was clapping...albeit with one of his hands in a splint, just as Diego had said.

  “That was the best version of Snow White I’ve ever heard. And the most dynamic, entertaining performance I’ve ever seen. You missed your calling. You should be on stage.”

  He was dressed as Diego had described. So casually chic and disarmingly handsome it was painful to behold his beauty. And he clearly hadn’t shaved since she’d seen him. His beard had turned him from a soul-stealing seducer to a heart-snatching pirate.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  Ignoring her anger, he gently swept a finger around one puffy eye and rasped, “I made you cry.”

  Suppressing a shudder, she stepped away. “I made me cry. But I’m done crying. Answer my question.”

  Instead of answering, his probing gaze left her to settle on Diego. “Thank you for not drawing attention to my entry and giving me the chance to watch Eliana’s performance. Is she always that fantastic?”

  Diego nodded enthusiastically. “Always. She’s the only one who makes us laugh. And she’s the only one who makes me think.”

  Something scalding came into Rafael’s wolf’s eyes as they swept to hers. “She’s the only one who makes me...do so many things, too.” He turned to Diego, extended his hand. “Rafael.”

  The boy put his small hand in Rafael’s with all the decorum of a young prince meeting a vital new ally. “Diego.”

  A painful tightness gripped her throat as Rafael shook the boy’s hand with utmost earnestness. It felt as if she was seeing two versions of Rafael, separated by the chasm of time and circumstance, past and present selves meeting. The way they regarded each other, the awareness in their eyes, as if each recognized something fundamentally the same about the other.

  She blinked away the moisture. Where was this coming from? Rafael, the all-powerful tycoon, couldn’t have anything in common with an abandoned boy like Diego. Though she knew nothing about Rafael’s past, she couldn’t imagine he’d ever been as disadvantaged as Diego.

  But...what had his childhood been like? How had he become this complex, irresistible force of nature...?

  No. Not irresistible. Not to her, not anymore. And she didn’t care about his past or present. She didn’t want to know anything about him, or have anything to do with him.

  “I asked Ellie if she could ask you to come again, just earlier so you could visit us for a while before bedtime.”

  “It would be a pleasure and an honor, Diego.” He slanted her a glance. “If Eliana approves.”

  Ellie tried not to gape at Rafael. It stunned her to see him treat Diego with such respect and regard. Especially after he’d snubbed her father so viciously last night. Before doing the same to her.

  “Why do you call her Eliana?” Diego asked. “We all call her Ellie.”

  “She is Eliana to me. Do you know what that name means?”

  Diego shook his head vigorously.

  “It means God has answered.”

  “Answered what?”

  “Prayers. So Eliana is God’s answer to prayers.”

  Completely engrossed, Diego probed, “Whose prayers?”

  “Her parents. Mine. And I have a feeling yours, too.”

  Rafael’s eyes moved back to her, and the look in them, the way he’d said mine, made her forget how last night had ended in humiliation. But that only lasted for moments before she was back to wanting to rant that she never wanted to see him again.

  But Diego clung around her neck with even more fervency than usual. “Please, let him come again.”

  Her fury at Rafael intensified. But she couldn’t blast him in front of the starstruck boy, yet she couldn’t raise expectations she’d have to disappoint, either.

  “We’ll see, sweetie. Go to sleep now. Or not.”

  Forcing a conspiratorial wink, she hugged him one last time and got up before he argued.

  Walking away, she struggled not to run out of the ward. It was even worse than she’d thought. All the kids were sitting up in bed, watching Rafael with utmost fascination. They’d never seen anyone like him in their lives. Their interest and eagerness made her curse Rafael even more. Then he made it worse, smiling and waving as he bid them good-night. They all chanted a delighted response.

  The moment she closed the door behind them, she turned on him. “What kind of sick game do think you’re playing?”

  “I never play any kind of game. I’m here to take you with me. I have a promise of untold pleasure to fulfill. And so do you.”

  “Are you for real? No...don’t answer that. Just...”

  “Senhor Moreno Salazar!”

  She swung around at the excited call and found the nuns who ran the orphanage rushing closer, eyes fixed on Rafael, smiles so large they could have engulfed him whole.

  Sister Cecelia, the one who’d called out, started speaking before they reached them. “Now that you’ve seen Ellie, if you’re amenable, we’d love to give you a tour of our orphanage. I know you didn’t have a chance to really see the children today, so you won’t get an accurate idea of the activities and facilities we have for them, but...”

  Rafael waved away her anxious explanations. “I’ve seen enough. And I already know you’re the best since Eliana supports your establishment.” He produced a checkbook and pen, scribbled for moments before cutting out a check and handing it to Sister Cecelia. “This is only until you can give me a more comprehensive list of your needs and plans.”

  The woman took the check dazedly, looking down at it with the other two nuns squeezing closer to get a look, too.

  Their collective gasps told Ellie it was an obscene amount. At least, to mere mortals. To him, a man who juggled billions, everything was pocket change.

  “But...Senhor Moreno Salazar...this is...is...”

  “Just something to get you started on those projects you told me you’ve been forced to put off for lack of funding.” He handed her a business card. “These are my personal numbers. Call me when you’re ready to discuss your projects in detail. And please, feel free to contact me anytime with any problems concerning the children. If you don’t have project managers, accountants and attorneys you trust, or if you can’t afford any, mine are at your disposal.”

  The sisters fell over themselves thanking Rafael for his incredible generosity. He waved away their thanks and shook their hands, assuring them he’d make more visits. Then he turned to Ellie, gesturing for her to precede him out of the building.

  Feeling as if she’d fallen into another dimension, she walked ahead. Sister Cecelia fell in step beside her. Rafael followed with the other two flanking him.

  “Where did you find this angel, Ellie?” Sister Cecelia all but swooned as she kept snatching glances at said angel.

  So not even nuns were immune to Rafael’s charms. She’d bet nothing that breathed would be.

  Biting her tongue so she wouldn’t put fallen before angel, she smiled vaguely, diverting the conversation to weekend plans as they made their way out of the orphanage.

  The sisters stood at the door waving and sighing until she and Rafael turned the corner. Once they did, she lengthened her steps, wanting nothing but to escape him.

  Without even trying, his longer strides kept him by her side, his imposing figure parting the pedestrians around them on the sidewalk like Moses parted the Red Sea.

  Finally, out of breath, she ground to a halt and turned on him. “What?”

  In answer, he just swept her up in his arms and kissed her.

  Just like his first kiss, there were no preliminaries. Just off the deep end into devouring passion. And like they had in that isolated corridor, her senses sang at his feel and taste. The abrasion of his bristling beard and splinted hand stoked the fire that not even
his mistreatment had doused, clamoring downtown Rio disappearing around her.

  Then the images lodged into her brain. Of him looking at her as if he didn’t know her, walking away without a word then disappearing with that woman...

  She tore her lips away, struggling until she made him put her back on her feet. But he wouldn’t let her escape the cage of his embrace.

  She glared up at him. “What was all that about? Is making huge, empty promises to vulnerable people the way you get your kicks?”

  “I never make empty promises.”

  “Sure, because you intend to come back to visit an orphaned boy. Because you intend to place all your resources at the disposal of destitute nuns in a backstreet orphanage.”

  “That’s exactly what I will do.”

  The imperious conviction with which he said that! Last night, she would have believed him without reservations. She would have had as many stars in her eyes as the kids and nuns had when they looked at him. She would have believed him to be the superhero or the angel they believed he was. He’d been even more to her. The sum total of her fantasies. Then he’d walked away and slapped her with the truth. His truth.

  The horrible part was that even knowing it, she couldn’t feel it. Let alone see it. He felt and looked sincere and forthright. Not to mention even more gorgeous. The harsh shadows of the beard and what looked like haggardness made him devastating. Even the casual clothes that were nothing like his impeccable attire last night made him more ruggedly sexual. She felt downright dowdy in comparison.

  His left arm holding her, the splint digging deliciously into her lower back, he gently swept her bangs away from her eyes. “You were breathtaking in that evening gown. But in this sweater and jeans, with your face scrubbed clean and your hair swinging behind you like a spirited mare’s tail, you look even more...edible. And I’m starving for you.”

  She pushed against him harder, making him release her this time. “How do you do this trick? When you appear to read my mind? It must be your handiest one in getting stupid chicks like me to fall in your arms.”

  His lips thinned disapprovingly. “First, you’re the very opposite of stupid. Second, I’m not interested in ‘chicks.’ I want only you to fall in my arms. Third, it’s not a trick. We are on the same wavelength.”