Page 12 of Their One-Night Rio Reunion
Caio’s less than thrilled reaction to her transformation.
But over the months, in spite of Caio’s reaction, Ana had grown in confidence and had found that she preferred a kind of timeless elegant style. The stylist she’d worked with in London had become a friend, and Ana had used her expertise to help her find outfits for various events, working with her remotely.
But now...
Ana let the liquid silk of the beautiful blue dress slip out of her hand. It was good that she’d remembered Caio’s reaction to her transformation. No matter how reckless she might feel, it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t interested.
She went to her own clothes and pulled out a pair of worn cut-off shorts and a T-shirt. It wasn’t as if he’d even notice if she put on that dress anyway, so why bother?
She hadn’t worn clothes like this for a long time now. Being married to Caio had morphed her into someone different.Or someone more herself?It was a persona she hadn’t been comfortable with at first, but now it felt more familiar to her than her old tomboy self ever had.
Leaving her feet bare, Ana went down to the kitchen, relieved to see that it was empty. Caio must still be at the beach. She saw that he’d taken some things out of the fridge—the makings of a salad. She took it upon herself to put the ingredients together, mixing up a light lemony vinaigrette and chopping up tomato, avocado, cucumber, adding some nuts and grapes.
She warmed some crusty bread in the oven, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a deep voice said from behind her, ‘Changed your mind, then?’
Ana whirled around to see Caio standing a few feet away, wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt. Like her. His hair was damp. He must have come back and taken a shower. How long had he been there? Why hadn’t she heard him?
She looked down. Bare feet like her. Except his were about seven sizes bigger than hers. He was big all over.
A wave of heat exploded in her belly. Her brain felt fuzzy. ‘Changed my mind...?’
He gestured to the kitchen island. ‘Lunch.’
Ana looked at the salad blankly for a moment before her brain switched back into gear. She affected a little shrug, as if she hadn’t just had a brain meltdown just because Caio was in the room. It was as if a layer of protection had been ripped off her skin here on this island.
‘I figured I might as well start getting it together. Unless you had something else in mind?’
He shook his head, looking at the salad. ‘This is exactly what I envisaged, but I wouldn’t have put it together as well as this. You have a real talent. I never did ask where you learned to cook...’
Ana had not been expecting that. Over the year, when they’d been in Rio de Janeiro, and if there hadn’t been a function to go to, Ana had got used to letting the chef go and cooking herself. At first Caio hadn’t joined her, but as time had passed it had become habitual for them to share meals.
Caio settled on a high stool on the other side of the island and picked up the lone grape left in a bowl, ‘You know, I only recently realised that it was you cooking those meals and not the chef. I thought he was leaving food for you to heat up.’
Ana cut up rough hunks of bread, hating it that she still felt self-conscious under Caio’s inquisitive gaze. ‘I learnt how to cook because I knew it would annoy my father. He was horrified at the thought of me doing anything remotely domestic or manual, and as my life pretty much revolved around irritating him as much as I could...’ She trailed off, realising that she must sound like a petulant teenager.
She busied herself carrying the salad in a bowl over to the kitchen’s dining table.
Caio followed with the bread and asked, ‘Would you like some wine?’
That dangerous flash of recklessness gripped her again. ‘Sure.’
She grabbed some sparkling water and glasses, watching as Caio took a bottle of chilled white wine out of the fridge and brought it over. He pulled out the cork with an ease and dexterity that really shouldn’t be sexy, but even that caused a spiking of need deep inside Ana.
When it was poured, she took a gulp of wine in a bid to try and cool her wayward hormones. It had to be just a heightened reaction to the adrenalin of the morning—that was all.
The dry, crisp taste of the wine slid down her throat and went straight to her head. Probably not the best idea around Caio, who was taking a sip of his own wine, the glass looking very fragile in his big hand.
She mixed up the salad with two spoons and said, ‘Help yourself.’
Caio heaped salad onto his plate and drizzled some olive oil over his bread. He said idly, ‘You really hate your father, don’t you?’
Ana almost choked on her mouthful of food and had to swallow carefully. ‘It’s that obvious?’ she joked.
Caio shrugged. ‘I saw it the day we met, and since then you’ve made little or no effort to see him.’
Ana took another sip of wine, put her glass down. ‘I can’t say I feel any great affection for him, no. Me and my younger brother were superfluous to his requirements. My only value to him was as a marriageable asset. I have enough older brothers to ensure the family legacy is taken care of.’
‘You and your younger brother are obviously close.’
