“Mom!” Catia wailed. “It's burning!”
Ellie helped her stir the sauce, then handed Diogo the spoon. He tasted it with gusto. “Estava delicioso! Meus cumprimentos ao chefe.”
“My compliments to the chef,” Ellie translated easily.
“Your Portuguese is improving!”
“Obrigada,” she said with a grin. “I've had a good teacher.” Ellie's eyes met his over the stove impishly. “By the way, I let Luisa have the night off,” she said with studied innocence. “While Catia's at her slumber party, I'm afraid we'll be all alone…”
“We will, eh?” The sexy, mischievous look in her eyes sent a thrill through his body. Even at nearly nine months pregnant, she was the sexiest woman in the world to him. They made love every night. And with Catia at her friend's house, the whole evening stretched before them, hours and hours to laugh and play in the most adult way possible…
I'm going to take her from you.
His jaw clenched. He looked over the penthouse with critical eyes. Ellie had made many changes over the last few months. The white walls, hard furniture, and steel-and-glass artwork were all gone. The walls were now a creamy yellow. The tables were glossy wood with bowls of flowers, and the sofas were plush and comfortable. Pictures of their family, of Catia in front of the Statue of Liberty on a recent trip to New York, of the three of them laughing together at the beach house last month, now lined the walls.
It felt like his home in a way it never had before. He loved it anew. Not because of the large windows and gorgeous view, but because of Catia…and Ellie.
But the windows are too large, he thought now with a scowl. Even with the bodyguards outside and on the floor below, the building had the public access of a hotel. Security might be breached. It was too vulnerable by half.
He had to find Wright. Now.
“I'll be back,” he told Ellie abruptly.
“What's wrong?” she said, looking at him with piercing eyes.
Maldição, he had a hard time lying to her. But he wanted her greatest concern to be shopping for baby clothes and playing with Catia. Not worrying about some crazed man from their past who wished them harm.
It wasn't that he thought Ellie was too weak to deal with it. On the contrary. He'd realized her strength when he saw her coming down those stairs in Leblon holding Catia's hand. She'd achieved the impossible that day—done something that Diogo could not do no matter how hard he'd tried.
She'd brought their family together.
In many ways, he thought, his wife was far more powerful than he was. Bearing children, giving constant unconditional love, being the emotional heart of a home—they all demanded strength and courage that most men, including Diogo, couldn't possibly comprehend.
But protecting them was Diogo's job.
“Nothing's wrong,” he said evenly. “Everything is fine.”
Turning away before she could ask more questions, he went to his study and got on the phone. He called in some favors from friends in various government agencies, including Interpol. But hanging up the phone, he still felt unsettled.
His men would find him, Diogo told himself, but he was distracted all throughout dinner. After the delicious meal, he hugged Catia farewell and Pedro, his most trusted bodyguard, carried her little suitcase and accompanied her to the waiting car downstairs. The general's compound was notoriously tight with security; Diogo knew that Catia would be safe there.
“I can tell something's bothering you.” He felt Ellie's arms wrap around his waist. “You might as well just tell me. Don't make me lure it out of you,” she said teasingly.
He turned to face her and growled, “My only problem is that it's been too long since we've been alone together.”
Pulling her into the bedroom, he made love to her with almost frantic intensity, ripping off her clothes, pulling her over him, thrusting inside her deeply as she rode him until they both were sweaty and gasping. Then he held her all night. She slept cradled in his arms. But for him, sleep was impossible. He stared up at the ceiling, then rose from bed before first light.
“Where are you going?”
He'd thought she was still asleep. He looked at her on the bed. She was leaning back against the pillows, naked from the waist up, looking so impossibly lush and beautiful that it made his heart hurt.
He clenched his jaw. “I need to get to work. The Vahlo acquisition…”
“Forget work,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “Stay home with me and play.”
“The sure way to the poorhouse.”
“I think we could manage with a few million less.”
“It's Wright,” he heard himself blurt out. “He's threatening to take you from me.”