What did she expect?
I expect you to be true to me as I'm true to you.
I expect you to love me, as I love you.
God, she was a fool!
“Damn you,” she whispered, sinking into the couch as she struggled to hide her sobs. “Damn you to hell.”
In an instant, he crossed the room. He held her in his arms with unexpected tenderness. He kissed her temple softly, stroking her hair.
“She's not my mistress, Ellie,” he said. “She's not.”
“But—”
His eyes were dark with emotion. “I would not have married you if I intended to betray you.”
She looked at him, afraid to believe the words she desperately wanted to believe. “Then what are you doing here?”
He shook his head, tightening his jaw. “I didn't want you to know. I was…ashamed.”
“Ashamed?” she gasped. “Of what?”
“Know this.” Raising her chin, he forced her to meet his eyes. “When I forced you to take my name, I gave you my loyalty. I will never break my promise. Never.”
She shook her head tearfully. “But it's not a real marriage.”
Lowering his lips, he kissed her, a hot embrace that made fire rush through her veins.
“Tell me that's not real,” he demanded.
Ellie heard a startled squeak from the doorway. Dazed, she looked up to see the brunette standing in the doorway holding a tray. The woman was staring daggers at Ellie. If she wasn't Diogo's mistress, she obviously wished to be.
Ellie turned back to Diogo. “So why—Why are you here with Catia,” she asked in a small voice, wanting desperately to believe, “if she's not your mistress?”
“Ah.” He followed her gaze to rest on the brunette. “Her name is Angelique Price. She's a nanny.”
“Nanny?” she repeated numbly. As if on cue, she heard a sharp, rhythmic bang against the hardwood floor as a little girl, about five years old and holding a doll, ran into the room. She stopped, looking at Diogo with big, frightened eyes.
“What are you doing here?” the little girl said in tremulous English, clutching her doll. “Go away. I don't want you here!”
Diogo rose steadily to his feet. “Hello, Catia.” He took a step toward her. “I've missed you, minha pequena. Angelique called and said you were asking for me. I came as quickly as I could.”
“No! I don't want you! Go away!”
Diogo picked the child up in his arms. Her doll dropped with a crash to the floor as he hugged her close, whirling her around the room, but instead of bursting into childish squeals of laughter, she howled, “No! Put me down! I don't want you here, don't want you!”
She was not a pretty little girl, except in the sense that all children are beautiful. Her hair was mousy brown. She wore thick glasses, her teeth were crooked, and she was far too thin and serious for a five-year-old child. Ellie's heart went out to the girl.
Then her plain brown eyes fixed on Ellie.
“Who is that?”
He stroked her hair tenderly. “That is Ellie. My wife.” He turned. “Ellie, I'd like you to meet Catia,” he said quietly. “She's my daughter.”
An hour later, after the little girl went into the kitchen to have lunch with her nanny, Ellie and Diogo sat on the sofa in the front room. The visit between Catia and her father had not improved, in spite of all Diogo's trying.The more he'd attempted to charm and please the little girl, the more she'd howled and pushed him away.
“I hired Angelique through an agency. I never even knew I had a daughter till this past Christmas,” he told Ellie, rubbing his head wearily with his hands. “Maldição, she lived in Rio all these years, but I never knew.”
“Where is her mother?” she asked softly.
His dark eyes looked haunted. “She's dead.”
“Dead?”
He clenched his jaw. “Yasmin was a dancer—so passionate, so full of life. When I met her, I was building a new mine in Saskatchewan. We only had a few dates a few weeks apart. On our third date, she asked me to marry her. I thought she was a gold digger trying to pin me down. So I didn't ask questions. I just left her.” He looked away, staring at the gleam of the hardwood floor. “When I told her she meant nothing to me, she said she was done with me. She said she loved someone else too much to waste any more time with me. It never occurred to me that she might be pregnant.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape. “Oh, Diogo,” she whispered.
“After I found out about Catia, I couldn't stand the thought that I'd unknowingly abandoned my daughter for five years. I had to make sure that no other woman could get pregnant without my knowledge…”