Maisey Yates - Rising Stars

Her baby.

Laura swallowed. This was the first time she’d left Robby with a babysitter since he was born. It felt strange to be away from him. Strange, and dangerous to feel this young and free, with Gabriel beside her. He smiled down at her, and for an instant she was lost in his eyes, so dark and deep against his tanned skin.

It would be so easy to love him when he treated her like this. Even after she went home, she knew she would always remember his low, husky voice saying, “I want you, Laura, more than any woman. I’ve always wanted you.” She would feel the heat of his body against hers when he’d seized her on the terrace and kissed her. She had new memories to add to the time they’d first made love, when he’d pushed her back against his desk, sweeping everything aside in his reckless, savage need. When their sweaty, naked bodies had clung together, their limbs intertwined in explosive passion.

Now, Laura’s legs trembled as Gabriel drew her toward the two tall brass doors held wide by doormen.

“Boa tarde, Senhor Santos,” the first doorman said, beaming.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Santos,” the second doorman said in accented English.

Once they were inside the foyer, Laura looked up in amazement at a center courtyard two stories high, with a dome of colored Tiffany glass on the ceiling. But if the glamorous architecture was straight out of the nineteenth century, the boutique’s clothes were as cutting-edge as anything she’d find on Fifth Avenue.

A bevy of pretty shopgirls rushed to wait upon Gabriel. “Allow me to help you, senhor!”

“No, me!” a second one cried.

“Senhor, I have something wonderful to show you!”

Laura scowled. She could just imagine what the eager girls wanted to show Gabriel. Turning, she glared at him. “How often do you come here?”

He snorted, hiding a grin. “Once or twice a month.”

“Lingerie for all your one-night stands?” “Suits for work. I’m known to tip well.”

Laura looked at the fawning shopgirls, who were all staring at him with undisguised glee. “I bet.”

“Sorry, girls,” he said. “We already have an appointment.”

“Mr. Santos,” an older woman said in English behind them. “Welcome.” She stepped forward with assurance, her red suit a perfect match to her short, sleekly coiffed gray hair. “I am ready to be of assistance.”

“This is Mrs. Tavares,” Gabriel told Laura. His hand tightened around hers as he turned back to the other woman. “And this is the girl I told you about. Laura

Parker.”

“Certainly, sir.” Mrs. Tavares came closer. Gabriel stepped back, and Laura found herself standing alone, bereft of his strength, beneath the older woman’s scrutiny. She examined a long tendril of Laura’s mousy brown hair, then nodded. “Very fine material to work with, sir.”

“Dress her for the beach.”

“Which beach?”

“A pool party at a luxurious mansion on the Costa do Sul. It will be attended by famous beauties and rich men. Make her shine above the rest.”

Still staring at Laura, the older woman stroked her chin thoughtfully. “How obvious do you wish her beauty to be?”

“Completely,” he said.

“It will require help from a salon.”

“As you wish.”

The woman pulled the black-rimmed glasses off Laura’s face.

“Hey!” Laura protested. “And an optometrist.”

Gabriel smiled. “I leave her in your hands.”

Laura’s cheeks were hot. The perfectly coiffed, elegant woman continued to walk around her, looking her up and down in the tight black dress, as if she were a handyman and Laura were a sad, decrepit old house in need of a complete remodel.

“This isn’t going to work,” Laura said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I think you should go to the pool party without me. I’ll just go to the Fantasy Ball later.”

“You go to the Fantasia tonight?” Mrs. Tavares gasped. “The Baile de Gala?”

“Yes, and she needs a ball gown,” Gabriel said. “Casual clothes as well. But she must be ready for the party in two hours.”

Mrs. Tavares froze. “So little time?”

“Desculpa.”

The woman tilted her head, considering Laura. “It will not be cheap. Or easy.”

“Cost does not matter. Just results. Satisfy my requirements and you’ll be generously rewarded.”

The older woman’s expression didn’t change, but Laura saw her sudden stillness. Looking at Gabriel, she gave a slow, respectful nod. “It will be done, senhor, as you wish.”

“My driver will pick her up in two hours.”

With a clap of her hands, Mrs. Tavares turned and started barking out orders to the young shopgirls in Portuguese. With a second clap of her hands she scattered them.

“Tchau,” Gabriel said to Laura, kissing her on both cheeks before he turned away.

He was abandoning her to face the sharks alone? Laura gasped, “You can’t leave!”

“Missing me already?”

“Hardly!” she retorted witheringly, even as she looked around her nervously.

“You’re in good hands,” Gabriel said. “Carlos will bring you to Oliveira’s mansion. I have business to attend to, unfortunately. But I’ll be waiting for you at the party.”

“But what if…what if you’re disappointed? What if my makeover is a failure? What if—”

Gabriel leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Have fun.”

Fun? Laura glared at him, her heart in her throat. What kind of fun would it be to look like a fool, to be nearly naked in front of Rio’s notoriously body-conscious crowd, to be compared to Adriana da Costa in a bikini? She shook her head desperately and said for about the millionth time, “This isn’t going to work!”

He gave her an annoyingly confident smile. “You’re going to love this.”

“You will not be disappointed, Mr. Santos,” the older woman said, gently pulling Laura back into her clutches. Laura was suddenly aware that there were twenty salesgirls hovering around her, while all the other customers were being chased out of this expensive, exclusive store.

The two-story luxury boutique had just closed—for her.

“No,” she whispered, feeling scared that she would let Gabriel down. “You’re wrong about me. I’ll never be a beauty.”

“You are the one who is wrong.” Gabriel’s eyebrows lowered fiercely as he looked down at her, his dark black eyes glittering. “Today, the whole world will see how beautiful you really are.”

OLIVEIRA’S party was in full swing when Gabriel arrived.

Security was tight for this event, one of the most coveted private parties of the Carnaval season. Not for tourists or international celebrities, this was for well-connected Cariocas, the richest local tycoons and their glamorous mistresses and wives.

Gabriel was grimly sure he’d gotten this invitation only so that Felipe Oliveira could taunt him in public that he’d decided to sell Açoazul SA to someone else.

And where was Laura? Gabriel cursed softly under his breath. He’d arrived ten minutes late, after an urgent phone call from London. He needed Laura here at once, so he could introduce her to Felipe Oliveira and try to undo the damage that Adriana had spitefully caused.

Oliveira’s mansion was on the most beautiful stretch of the Costa do Sul to the north of Rio. The sprawling house was a white classical confection like a wedding cake, surrounded by multilevel terraces, with a large pool that overlooked a private beach. Oliveira had been a workaholic all his life, but now that he was in his mid-sixties, he’d apparently lost interest in business in favor of possessing—and pleasing—a woman half his age. It was the only reason he’d finally offered to sell the company back to Gabriel after almost twenty years.