Page 7 of Their One-Night Rio Reunion
‘These two bedrooms are free for you to use,’ Estella said, indicating two rooms on opposite sides of the corridor. She opened the door on the left. ‘I put you in here, Mrs Salazar, I hope it’ll be sufficient?’
Ana realised that she’d grown so used to being shown into her own separate room that she didn’t even wonder any more what people might think.
That whole side of her marriage with Caio had been handled with discreet efficiency. When not in the apartment in Rio, they’d either been in apartments belonging to him around the world, or hotel suites with enough rooms for people not to know what their sleeping arrangements were.
The door opened into a pretty bedroom suite dressed in cool whites and blues. A vast four-poster bed dominated the room, and there was an en-suite bathroom with rolltop bath. There was a dressing room, and a balcony terrace, overlooking the back gardens. She could see the ocean and hear the waves lapping against the shore. It was more thansufficient.
When Ana looked inside the dressing room she was surprised to see the clothes she’d packed for Europe hanging up or folded neatly onto shelves, alongside clothes she’d never seen before. ‘But...how?’
Estella said, ‘Essential items were picked up for you both from your apartment and sent out with me on the first helicopter trip, along with other supplies. They thought it best to alert you only at the last minute, in case anyone found out about the plan. The other clothes are here for guests’ use. Feel free to help yourself to anything that makes you more comfortable.’
Ana balked a little as the full enormity of the operation to get them out of Rio and to this place sank in. She asked, ‘Who owns this estate?’
‘Luca Fonseca. He was prepared to give you the use of the island as I believe he knows Mr Salazar.’
Ana looked at Caio, who was nodding. ‘We go back a bit. He was one of my first investors.’
Estella was continuing, ‘The island estate was bought for his wife as a wedding anniversary present some years ago.’
Something twisted inside Ana at this mention of one of Brazil’s most famous couples. They were famous not only for being who they were—Serena Fonseca, née DePiero, was the daughter of an infamous and disgraced Italian tycoon—but also because they seemed to be genuinely in love and conducted a very happy private family life with their three children and their extended family.
Fêted and adored by the press, the blonde beauty and her handsome Brazilian husband were rarely spotted, which only added to their allure. And with hideaway private islands like this to escape to, Ana could understand how they stayed under the radar.
Estella was showing Caio into his bedroom across the hall. Similar to Ana’s, it differed only in colour scheme, being decorated in shades of dark grey and white, set off beautifully against the same very simple floorboards that ran through the entire villa. Artisanal rugs added softness and pops of colour against the otherwise muted interiors.
Ana followed Caio into his dressing room, to see him indicate to where one of his tuxedoes was hanging up. ‘I don’t think I’ll be needing this.’ His tone was dry.
Estella shrugged. ‘Best to be prepared for every eventuality. Please, feel free to explore all you want and make yourselves at home. I have to return to Rio de Janeiro.’
‘You’re not staying?’ Ana didn’t like the tinge of panic in her voice. But she was nervous of being alone in this idyllic and totally unexpected place with Caio. Especially when her emotions were so close to the surface.
Emotions? Who was she kidding? It was her desire she was afraid of.
The woman shook her head. ‘No, unfortunately I have work to do for Mr Fonseca. You’ll have everything you need, and your protection team will be keeping watch from security boats stationed around the island for as long as they’re needed.’
Ana went back into her bedroom and looked out to sea from her small terrace. Sure enough, she could see a boat on the water, and then another at a distance. She breathed out a shaky breath, wrapping her hands around the terrace railing, and tried to absorb the fact that an hour ago she’d been on the mainland, newly divorced and about to head to the airport to start a new life.
Now what?
CHAPTER FOUR
CAIOSTOODONthe terrace outside the open-plan kitchen and watched thehelicopter take off, the loudthwackof its blades fading as it sped over the ocean back to the mainland. He pulled absently at his tie, feeling constricted. He was still reeling at the speed with which they’d been despatched here.
All he could see in his mind’s eye, though, was Ana’s huge brown eyes filled with shock. Her face so pale. Not out of fear. Out of shock that she wasn’t getting away from Caio fast enough.
He still couldn’t believe she’d booked a flight out of Rio that very day. Couldn’t she even bear a few more days in his company? It made a mockery of his sense that their relationship had reached a level ofsimpatico. Understanding. Mutual respect. Friendship.
Clearly he’d misread it. Badly.
He heard a sound behind him and turned around to see Ana. She’d taken off her jacket and the top button of her shirt was undone. She was barefoot, hair a little tousled, as if she’d run a hand through it. He could see the curves of her breasts through the thin material encased in plain white. Lace? Or silk?
His blood quickened and grew hot, but he’d become a master at disguising her effect on him. She was looking at him warily. It made the heat in his blood surge even more.
‘You had no inkling of this?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I can understand their logic in not telling us till the last moment, in case we accidentally tipped the kidnappers off that we knew.’
‘Do you think they’ll get them?’
