Reckless Night in Rio

“Good,” he said. “Now.” He stroked her cheek. “We must celebrate winning the Açoazul deal tonight.” He gave her a wicked smile. “I can think of one way—”

“No,” she blurted out. “I just need to—I need to…be alone.”

Turning abruptly, she ran down the hall

. He heard the soft whir of the sliding doors as she fled out onto the terrace. When he followed her moments later, she’d dropped his tuxedo jacket from her body. Her strapless gown was barely hanging on her full breasts, askew with the broken zipper.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just leave me alone,” she said. Her voice was low, almost grief-stricken. “Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Her red dress suddenly fell to the ground, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. He licked his lips, unable to look away from her half-naked body in the white bra and torn panties and thigh-high stockings. “What are you doing?”

She looked away. “I’m going to take a swim.”

He smiled. “Wonderful idea. I’ll join you.”

“No!” she cried vehemently.

He blinked at her, frowning. “Why?”

For long moments, she didn’t answer. He could hear the noise and music of the street party below them. She finally said in a low, muffled voice, “I need some time alone.” When he didn’t move, she choked out, “Just go away, Gabriel. Please.”

Looking away from the illuminated turquoise water of the pool, she stared out at the vast dark ocean beyond Ipanema Beach. He’d seen a glimmer of tears in her eyes. And there was no way they were tears of happiness.

But she wanted him to leave. She’d made that clear. Setting his jaw, he turned and left her on the terrace, opening the sliding glass doors with a whir and closing them behind him.

Once inside, he stopped, clawing his hair back with one hand. He couldn’t let it end like this. Did she have so much regret that she’d allowed him to make love to her? He turned around, intending to go back and argue, to plead.

Instead, he froze.

He saw her on the moonlit terrace, sitting on a lounge chair, her face covered by her hands. Then she dropped her hands. Squaring her shoulders, she started to roll down her stockings.

He stared at her, transfixed. She pulled off her garter belt and tossed that, too, to the limestone floor.

Rising, she stood in the moonlight. Now wearing nothing but her bra and panties, she walked to the edge of the illuminated pool. Ripples of water reflected tiny shimmers of light that moved across her naked skin. Gabriel stared at her as he touched the window, unable to move or even breathe as she stood on the edge of the pool, looking down into the water.

Then in a graceful movement, she dived in. She stayed underwater for so long that he was suddenly afraid. Sliding open the doors, he ran out onto the terrace.

He saw her sitting on the bottom of the pool, her eyes closed. It seemed to take forever before she finally rose to the surface with a gasp, her hair sleek and sopping wet.

Laura was facing away from him, the moonlight frosting her bare shoulders in silver. Her thighs spread wide as her legs chopped the water, which moved around her in illuminated ripples of blue.

He choked back a groan. He was hard and aching for her. There was no way he was leaving her now. Walking to the edge, he said, “Laura.”

She turned to face him with a gasp. Her eyes were luminous, a dark shade of blue, as she tried to cover her breasts, treading water with her feet. “What do you want?”

Sitting on a chair by the pool, he looked down at her. “I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I want to be alone!”

“Tell me,” he threatened. “Or I’ll kiss it out of you.”

Her eyes widened. Then she turned away. “Just go away.”

But in spite of her defiant words, he heard a sob in her voice that caused his belly to clench. Had he done that? Had he caused it? His jaw set. Pushing the chair away, he rose to his feet. He calmly kicked off his black leather shoes.

“What are you doing?” she said, alarmed.