Page 6 of Their One-Night Rio Reunion
Ana had always wondered about why he’d turned his back on his family, but whenever she’d broached the subject Caio had firmly diverted the conversation. Fair enough. She didn’t particularly relish discussions about her family either. They had that much in common.
‘Okay?’
Caio’s breath near her ear made Ana’s heart-rate pick up. If she turned her head to the other side they’d be face to face. Closer than they’d ever been. He hadn’t even kissed her on their wedding day, apart from a perfunctory peck on the mouth at the priest’s nudging. And yet it had burned.
She nodded. ‘Fine.’
She could sense that he was resting his weight on one arm, so as not to crush her to the seat, but Ana felt a pulse throb between her legs and a skewering sensation of need. She’d fought the desire she felt for this man for so long, but now it felt as if it was breaking loose. Like a swollen river bursting its banks. Shewantedto be crushed under this man. She wanted to feel all that lean and steely strength around her.In her.
She bit her lip.Thiswas why she’d booked a flight out of Rio de Janeiro as soon as she could. She felt as if her control around this man had been fraying for a long time, and she’d been veering into dangerous territory recently, wanting to provoke a reaction—as if she needed to prove to herself once and for all that he saw her as merely a by-product of a business deal.
A deal that was now going to be prolonged for another twenty-four hours in a secret location...
Tomás’s voice came from the front of the vehicle. ‘You can sit up now, Mr and Mrs Salazar, it’s safe.’
Suddenly Caio’s heat and weight were gone. Ana felt ridiculously bereft. She sat up slowly. They seemed to be driving into some kind of small airfield with a hangar nearby.
Tomás said, ‘We weren’t followed, but we took a circuitous route just in case. The helicopter is waiting here. If we’d taken you from the roof of your building it would have raised suspicions.’
‘Won’t they be suspicious when we don’t come out of the building? When I don’t get on the plane later?’ Ana pointed out.
Tomás’s eyes met Ana’s in the mirror. ‘There’s a plan in place, Mrs Salazar, and that’s all I can tell you. You’ll find out more if it’s successful.’
Ana shivered.Ifit was successful.
As if sensing her sudden trepidation, Caio took her hand. She looked at him, surprised by the contact. ‘Nothing will happen to you, I promise,’ he said.
Ana swallowed. For a moment she could almost imagine that there’d been something fierce in his voice. But then Caio abruptly let go of her hand, as if aware that he’d transgressed their tacit agreement only to touch in public. For the purposes of a marriage that no longer existed.
The SUV came to a stop and Ana saw the helicopter, its blades circling slowly outside the hangar. Staff waited along with more men in dark clothes with guns.
They were escorted to the helicopter under strict surveillance. She got in first, followed by Caio, and before she could take a breath she was strapped in, headphones on, and they were lifting up into the sky with a little wobble.
Ana gripped her armrests and after a few minutes looked down and saw Rio de Janeiro sprawling along the coast, early-morning sunlight glinting off tall buildings. The slightly misty outline of the famous Cristo Redentor statue dominated the top of the Corcovado mountain, arms outstretched.
Soon they were high above the Atlantic Ocean, leaving the coastline behind, and Ana could see nothing but a vast expanse of dark blue water. After about fifteen minutes the helicopter started circling an area. Ana looked down, and at first she could see nothing. But then she saw it: a tiny jewel of an island, rocky and lushly green, with a wide sandy beach and dense foliage. Waves broke and foamed against the shore. What looked like a sprawling villa sat in the cleared centre, and as they descended she could make out a huge pool set in lush, manicured grounds. There was also a pier, and a yacht bobbing in the water.
It was as if someone had plucked what Ana imagined to be a fantasy island out of her head and planted it here in the middle of the ocean.
They landed on a clear expanse of lawn, not too far from the villa, which Ana could see was artfully camouflaged with lush foliage so that it almost seemed to emerge fully formed from the landscape. Definitely the work of an architect—and a renowned one at that, she guessed.
When they got out, they were met by an efficient woman in a uniform of black trousers and crisp white shirt, saying, ‘Welcome to Ilha Pequena. I’m Estella, the estate manager.’ As she walked them to the villa she explained that the kitchen was stocked with enough provisions for a week.
Ana stopped in her tracks.A week?
Estella showed them around the open-plan airy villa, with its wide, deeply varnished floorboards. It was decorated with the kind of understated elegance that only serious money could buy, and yet it was also charmingly lived-in. Ana had the sense that, whoever’s home this was, it was very much loved and enjoyed, not treated like a museum, in spite of the very expensive art she recognised on the walls.
She spotted bowls for dog food and water in the kitchen. She could imagine a family here...children running in and out of the French doors that opened out from the kitchen/dining area to the lawn...and the image made a dart of longing pierce her gut, exposing her.
She’d told herself long ago that happy families were pure illusion. Maybe for other people who lived simpler lives, but not for people like her. All her tender fantasies had been blasted apart the day her mother had walked out of the family home, abandoning her husband and children, and so Ana had always been very careful not to allow herself to imagine even for a second that she could have something she’d never even experienced.
But in spite of everything she knew, the fantasy persisted, deep inside her, like a stubborn illicit stain. A dream of a happy family like the ones she saw on TV. Or in the movies. Or in books. She’d always loved the image of Tiny Tim and his loving, humble family fromA Christmas Carol—she’d read that story over and over to her brother Francisco when they were younger.
Ana turned away from the view and castigated herself.Pathetic.
They were shown next into a luxurious but obviously lived-in lounge, with huge comfortable couches and armchairs, where a projector was set up, along with a state-of-the-art smart TV and music system. Also on the ground level was another more formal lounge, a library, a study, a gym and a dining room.
Upstairs there were numerous bedrooms, most of them closed off—Ana guessed they belonged to the children—and a master suite.
