Page 33 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
‘Ah...’
‘Makes more sense now?’ he said dryly.
‘A little.’
Massimo said, ‘He loved it here. It appealed to his party side.’
‘Is that why you didn’t sell it?’
‘I was going to, and then I realised that this place reminded me of the best of him. The joyous, excited boy he was. Before the drugs and excess took over.’
In spite of his grief, this place made Massimo feel less jaded. His brother had loved it here. Maybe that was one of the reasons. And he felt close to his memory here. Strangely, for the first time in a long time, thoughts of Ricardo weren’t weighing on him as heavily. He felt lighter.
Maybe it was this woman? Maybe it was the mind-blowing sex that only seemed to be getting better? He knew that should be freaking him out on some level, but here, now, with the breeze blowing through Carrie’s hair beside him and her wonderment at their surroundings, and the lingering pleasure from last night that he could still feel in his blood and bones, he couldn’t seem to drum up much concern.
He pulled Carrie into him so he could feel her very feminine curves. All woman... He pushed her jacket off her shoulders and started opening her shirt. She was already a little breathless.
She said, ‘When does the conference start?’
‘Not for a few days,’ he said, as the lace of her bra was revealed under the open shirt.
He reached inside to cup her breast, relishing the weight in his palm. It fit perfectly, the tip already a hard nub. He rubbed his thumb back and forth and Carrie’s eyes started to lose focus.
‘What else do you have lined up?’ she asked, sounding as if she was desperately trying to cling on to some semblance of sanity. Like him.
‘A hectic schedule of rest and relaxation. Wall-to-wall pleasure.’
She looked at him, her eyes focused again. ‘That sounds...very lazy.’
Massimo smiled and cupped Carrie’s face, lifting it towards his. Just before he covered her mouth with his, he said, ‘Very,verylazy.’
Carrie wasn’t sure if she was still human. In an embarrassingly short space of time she’d become a sloth-like sybarite. Addicted to pleasure and to the relaxed, sensual pace of Rio de Janeiro.
Everything was easy and just flowed. Minutes and hours were melting into days that had melted into...a week? More? Carrie had stopped counting.
The day after their arrival a stylist had come to the apartment with her assistants and racks of clothes for her to wear in Rio—even though a stylist had already appeared in New York to help her with a travel outfit and a suitcase of clothes to bring with her.
It appeared the Rio stylist had been instructed to provide clothes of a far more frivolous variety—swimwear that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Underwear so light it was like air. Sparkly long dresses. Floaty kaftans.
Massimo had been at his conference for the past few days, so Carrie had got used to sleeping late, then going across the road for a dip in the crashing surf before getting coffee and breakfast at one of the local cafés.
She loved the vibrancy of the culture here, and the way everyone smiled, and the unashamed ease they had with their bodies, no matter what size. She loved the lyrical language, and was even trying to teach it to herself via an app on her phone.
Her skin was turning golden without her even sunbathing, and a smattering of freckles she hadn’t seen since she was a child were spreading across her nose.
Before Massimo had become busy with his conference he’d taken her sightseeing, up to the Redeemer statue, and he’d organised an overnight trip to see the breathtaking Iguazu Falls. Carrie still couldn’t get over the natural phenomenon of the spectacular waterfalls that straddled the border between Argentina and Brazil.
But his conference was finishing today, and he was taking her out to dinner later that evening. She stretched luxuriously on the bed, entirely naked, feeling so decadent that a little giggle escaped her mouth. The huge glass doors were open to the terrace outside and a warm breeze wafted over her skin.
‘Don’t move.’
The voice came from the doorway. Carrie might have freaked out, but it was too familiar. She lifted her head to see Massimo, already shedding his clothes.
The fact that she didn’t try to pull the sheet up over her body was testimony to how this man had rewired her brain into accepting that she was a sexual creature.
‘What about the conference?’
‘Last day. I bailed early.’
