Susan Stephens - Back In The Brazilian's Bed

He was asking for the world—and he knew it. Carnival took a year to plan, and she had a matter of weeks.

‘After all, I’m paying for the best.’

He shrugged again as he said this, and his tone of voice had changed from coaxing to rather more calculating as he added, ‘I’m paying for the best, so I expect the best.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed, relaxing into this return to business, even as she wondered if it could possibly last. ‘The impossible I can do.’

‘Miracles might take a little longer?’ he suggested. ‘You will have to work fast.’

There was no leeway in that statement, and she prided herself on always doing the best job faster than anyone else. Dante had turned away to throw a roll of banknotes onto a passing float, reminding her that all the performers were collecting money for charity. People who often had very little themselves worked hard all year to raise money during the parade, which was what made carnival so special. Locating all the cash she had, she tossed it onto the float. She would never lose sight of what this city had done for her. Working here had saved her. The vitality and the energy of Rio de Janeiro had lifted her, giving her barely enough time to brood or think back.

Until now. Dante would never change, she reflected as another group of dancing girls gathered around him. They were all exquisitely dressed and very beautiful, while Dante appeared like a dark pagan god in their midst. She had never felt more like a dowdy grey sparrow as she waited for him outside the circle of girls. If only she’d taken time to change out of her formal business suit, though something told her that more than the suit would have to go if she was going to do business successfully with Dante. She would have to find some of her missing joie de vivre —and stand up to him at every twist and turn.

She gave a start when he turned to look at her. Angling her chin, she made as if to leave. She couldn’t find it in her heart to blame the girls for loving Dante when his ridiculously handsome image appeared on every Thunderbolt poster in the city, and he looked even better in the flesh, but she was determined to get on with this research project, rather than indulge his slightest whim.

How was her determination to appear disinterested in Dante as anything other than a client going so far?

Not so well. Dante Baracca was back in her life, whether she wanted him there or not, and now it was up to her to harness the tornado and make it co-operate with her vision of how carnival could be adapted to suit the confines of a ranch.

‘I’ll make sure we enjoy some quality time together so we can have a proper chat about my plans,’ Dante reassured her when he returned to her side.

‘My plans will take a little time to formulate,’ she responded mildly. Dante had a samba girl hanging from each arm. She made no comment when he shooed the girls away.

‘We will discuss my plans shortly,’ he said.

‘I’m prepared to consider your suggestions,’ she said, and emphasised, ‘Unless it’s your way to pay a dog and bark yourself?’

His mouth curved in a grin. ‘This new business partnership should be interesting.’

‘Exactly as my brother predicted,’ she confirmed, turning away.

‘Your brother?’

‘Shall we get on? Time is short. We should head for the main square,’ she reminded him.

Dante drew her into a doorway as the previous year’s samba queen danced past. The noise from the accompanying drums was like thunder, and for a few seconds she was glad to lose herself in someone else’s moment, but then the girl stopped to put on a special dance for Dante. A leopard never changed its spots, she mused wryly as Dante tucked a roll of notes into the waistband of the girl’s thong.

‘Turning into a prude, Karina?’

‘Miss Prim?’ she threw back at him. She shrugged and smiled as the girl with the flawless body danced on her way. ‘You do what you like. It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘Such a shame,’ Dante murmured, his dark glittering eyes staring deep into hers. ‘I rather thought you might keep me in line.’

‘I think you’d enjoy that too much.’

His lips pressed down. ‘You never used to be such a killjoy.’

And he was the reason she’d changed, she thought.

No sooner had she dispensed with this latest salvo from Dante than a good-looking guy stopped in front of her and started dancing. Her first impulse was to smile and move on, but then it occurred to her that if Dante could flirt and tease without restriction, why couldn’t she?

She was about to find out, Karina guessed. Judging by the look on Dante’s face, what was good for the goose definitely wasn’t good for the gander. Then another woman—who, having recognised him, began to dance in front of him—distracted Dante, and with a look in her direction he brought the woman into his arms. Retaliation was one thing, but she had no intention of cosying up to her own partner, and had to content herself with covertly watching Dante prove just how good a man could look when he had been born with the rhythm of Brazil in his veins.

This was carnival where anything was possible. Yes. Dance with the devil and you would get burned, she added silently when Dante brushed against her. She knew he was teasing her deliberately, he always had, but she refused to respond and danced on, though Dante made her partner look like a beardless boy.

CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS A RELIEF when the band for that particular float moved on and their dance partners drifted away with the rest of the crowd. She had realised by that time that she couldn’t play games with Dante because the stakes were just too high.

‘Why so tense?’ he demanded. ‘I brought you here to relax and take everything in. Didn’t you enjoy dancing with that boy?’

‘That... boy ?’ she queried frowning.

Dante shrugged. ‘I noticed you kept your distance from him.’

‘Are you jealous now?’

His look made her shiver. She’d kept her distance from the youth for a very good reason. She didn’t want his hands on her. And he had been no threat, but that didn’t matter to Dante. There was still fire between them. Maybe there always would be.

More floats arrived, swamping them in noise, colour and people, and saving her from a potentially awkward moment. The happy smiles made it impossible to remain immune to the spell woven by carnival.

Drummers marched in front of each float, and they set up a sound that reverberated through her, making it hard to keep still. In the end she didn’t try, and it was while she was swaying to the rhythm that she carelessly backed into Dante. He grabbed her. His hands closed over her body—over a part of her body she never looked at, never showed to the world, kept hidden from everyone, and especially from him. It didn’t matter that her shame was covered by layers of clothing, that awkward stumble was all it took for her eyes to fill with tears.

Jostling through a crowd, looking out for each other, was nothing they hadn’t done a dozen times before when they had been younger, but today everything had taken on a deeper significance. It was time to put some distance between them. Baring her soul to Dante was the last thing she wanted to do. She had kept her feelings to herself for too long to break down now.

‘Dance?’ he suggested, at the worst possible moment.

Dance with him?

Dante’s warm breath caressed her skin as he leaned closer. ‘Dance and forget everything but carnival, just as you used to.’

Just as she used to? That wasn’t possible. Having Dante’s hands on her body wasn’t possible.

‘If you’ve forgotten how to dance, maybe you have forgotten how to inject the spirit of carnival into your projects,’ Dante suggested with narrowed eyes.