Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1) (17 page)

BOOK: Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1)
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‘The fountain is a beautiful memorial to our son,’ she said huskily.

Cruz stared at Sabrina’s drawn features. She looked fragile, as if being reminded of the child they had lost had hurt her. If she had not wanted their baby as he had supposed, would she look so shattered? Her raw emotions as she stood in front of the fountain were palpable and made him question his belief that she had not been as devastated as he had by the miscarriage ten years ago.

She gave him a tremulous smile and he felt a tug on his heart when he noticed the shimmer of tears in her eyes. ‘I’d love to explore the villa.’

‘I’ll give you a tour of the house later. I told my mother I would bring you to meet her as soon as we arrived.’

‘Does your mother live here?’

‘Not in the main villa. She has her own house that I had built for her in the grounds and my sisters share another house. Jacinta and Graciana are looking forward to meeting you.’

* * *

Time and grief had left their mark on Ana-Maria Delgado and Sabrina hardly recognised the white-haired woman who greeted her in halting English. Cruz’s twin sisters had been little girls when Sabrina had last seen them, and she remembered that they had been shy and unable to speak any English. She was surprised when Cruz introduced two beautiful, articulate, multilingual young women who were studying at university. Jacinta explained that she planned to be a doctor, and Graciana hoped to graduate as a lawyer.

‘It is because of Cruz that we can look forward to good careers,’ Graciana told Sabrina over dinner at the twins’ house. A large crowd sat around the table. Cruz’s aunt and uncle and several cousins had been invited to the meal. ‘We owe our brother so much,’ Graciana explained. ‘After Papai died Cruz worked tirelessly to support us and our mother. But more than simply providing money so that we could enjoy a good standard of living, he took care of all of us and he acted like a father to me and Jacinta.’ She grinned at her older brother. ‘Sometimes he can be
too
protective. He interviews our boyfriends so thoroughly that he frightens them off.’

‘Would you rather I allowed you to date unsuitable men?’ Cruz queried. His tone became serious. ‘That will never happen,
bonita
. I would protect my little sisters with my life if necessary.’

Jacinta laughed. ‘Graciana and I realise it will take a brave man who will not be overawed by our brother.’ She waited until Cruz had turned his head to speak to another of his relatives before she said in a fierce voice to Sabrina, ‘Cruz is an amazing, wonderful person and he deserves a very special woman who will love him as much as his family loves him.’

Fortunately the arrival of dessert—a Brazilian sweet milk pudding called
pudim de leite
—turned attention away from Sabrina. She glanced around the table at Cruz laughing with his sisters and cousins and thought of her solitary mealtimes in the grand dining room at Eversleigh Hall. She had plenty of friends who often came to stay, and of course Tristan was good company when he was home from university. But she had never experienced the bond that existed between Cruz and his family and she felt like an outsider who did not belong in his close-knit circle.

The twins clearly adored him, and Cruz’s love for his mother and sisters was evident in the warmth of his voice. He looked more relaxed than Sabrina had ever seen him and she felt a stab of envy every time he laughed and joked with his family. She remembered how, in the early days of their relationship ten years ago, they had shared laughter and friendship as well as passion and her heart ached for everything she had lost. Not just her child but the man she had loved—and would always love, she realised—but who had never loved her.

If he had cared for her at all he would have tried to persuade her not to leave Brazil. He would have fought for her as he had fought to look after his mother and sisters. Cruz had worked so hard for his family and he was still determined to protect them. Sabrina blinked away the tears that suddenly blinded her. To all appearances she had a privileged life and wanted for nothing, but what she wanted more than anything was to be cherished and protected, to be
loved
by Cruz, who she had discovered was a truly wonderful and honourable man.

‘Your sisters are a credit to you,’ she told him later when they strolled past lemon and olive groves on the way back to his villa. ‘Jacinta told me that when she and Graciana were younger you worked long hours but you always made time to help them with their homework so that they gained the required grades for them to go to university.’

‘I wanted them to have the chance of good careers. Growing up in the
favela
where there was poor schooling made me realise that education is the means of escaping poverty. That is why, with Diego, I have established the Future Bright Foundation, which provides college funds for young people from the slums.’

The scent of lemons perfumed the night air. Sabrina took a soft breath, afraid to disturb the sense of companionship she felt with Cruz as he told her things about his life that he had never spoken of before.

‘Tell me more about your career,’ he invited. ‘What made you decide to become a historian?’

She smiled. ‘I grew up literally surrounded by history. Parts of Eversleigh Hall date back to the fifteen hundreds. I was always fascinated by the Bancroft family’s connection to the estate, and history seemed a natural subject for me to study. I specialised in furniture restoration partly because the house has a large collection of antiques that needed to be restored.’

‘Do you have any other ambitions, or do you plan to devote your life to Eversleigh?’

The question forced Sabrina to acknowledge that she had given so much of her time to the stately home and she had not considered what she wanted to do in the future, either in her career or her personal life. She might as well face it, she did not have a personal life, she thought dismally. She was twenty-eight, and if she did not take control of her destiny there was a good chance that another ten years would slip past without her achieving any of her dreams.

‘I enjoy lecturing and I’d like to do more work at the university.’ She hesitated. ‘I would also like to have a family,’ she admitted. ‘Many of my friends are settling down and having children.’

Cruz shot her an intent look. ‘I’m surprised that you want children. Ten years ago you did not seem happy when you became pregnant.’

They walked into the villa and Sabrina halted in the entrance hall and turned to face him.

‘I
was
happy when I found out I was expecting a baby, but I also felt scared and alone. I was eighteen,’ she reminded him, ‘living in another country away from the familiar things I was used to in England, and I admit that I missed Eversleigh Hall and especially my brother. But when I tried to explain how I felt you didn’t seem to care or understand, and you don’t understand me any better now,’ she said flatly.

She swung away from him, but Cruz caught hold of her arm. ‘Then let me try to understand you. It’s true that we didn’t communicate enough back then. I had no idea that you felt scared of being pregnant because you never told me, and I now realise that my failure to talk about my mother’s problems during her pregnancies caused misunderstandings between us.’

He pulled her into his arms and stared into her stormy grey eyes. ‘We came to Quinta na Floresta so that we could discuss what happened in Brazil years ago. But I am more interested in looking forwards. Neither of us are the people we were then. We have developed, changed...’ he gave a wry smile ‘...grown up. What if we stop thinking about the past, and instead spend our time here getting to know each other better, with no preconceptions?’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
OMETHING
STIRRED
INSIDE
S
ABRINA
. It was too fragile to call it hope, but it was so infinitely precious that she was almost scared to breathe. ‘Is that really what you want, a chance for us to learn more about the people we are now?’

‘Yes.’ His warm breath feathered her lips as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with fierce passion and an unexpected tenderness that tugged on her heart.

‘I’d like that, too,’ she said huskily. Her smile stole Cruz’s breath and he silently acknowledged that he had longed for her to smile at him unguardedly and without the shadow of mistrust in her eyes.

‘We will make time to talk,’ he promised. ‘But when we make love we understand each other perfectly.’ He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. ‘Let me prove how well I understand your desires,
querida
.’

In the master bedroom slivers of pearl-grey moonlight slanted through the blinds and cast stripes across the bed and on Sabrina’s body as Cruz undressed her. His hands smoothed over her skin as he slid her dress down her hips, awakening every tiny nerve-ending on her body to urgent life.

She would not have unrealistic expectations that Cruz’s suggestion for them to get to know one another properly would lead to him wanting a meaningful relationship, she told herself firmly. But her thoughts scattered when he removed her bra and cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumb pads over her nipples until they hardened and reddened in anticipation of him taking each peak into his mouth.

He gave her a quick smile and she sensed that he was holding back. His words confirmed the idea. ‘I want to caress every inch of your body, kiss every centimetre of your skin and discover every pleasure point as if this is our first time making love with each other,’ he told her raggedly. ‘I want to make it perfect for you.’

She cradled his face in her hands, loving the rough stubble on his jaw scraping her soft palms. ‘You always make love to me perfectly.’

He would not be rushed, however much she pleaded and implored in a voice breathless with desire. His touch was as soft as gossamer as he stroked the undersides of her breasts before moving lower to slip between her thighs where he discovered that her knickers were damp with the slickness of her arousal.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured as he eased the panel of her panties aside and ran a finger up and down her moist opening until she parted for him like the petals of a flower and he probed her, delicately at first and then more intensely, swirling one digit and then two inside her.

‘Cruz...’ She clutched his shoulders to steady herself, feeling her legs tremble, and murmured her approval when he bared her and laid her on the bed. She began to unbutton his shirt but he straightened up and swiftly removed his clothes himself.

She pouted. ‘I wanted to undress you.’

‘Not this time,
querida
. This is all about me giving you pleasure.’ The sensual promise in his voice sent a quiver of excitement through her and she gave a voluptuous sigh when he knelt over her and kissed her mouth in a deeply erotic kiss. He moved down to her breasts and teased each nipple in turn with his tongue before he trailed a line of kisses to the apex between her legs and bestowed a shockingly intimate caress that made her lift her hips towards the powerful ridge of his erection.

She ran her hands over his chest and traced the ridges of his abdominal muscles, ignoring his protest as she moved lower and curled her fingers around his arousal. A shudder ran through him as she began to move her hand up and down, faster and faster until he groaned and rolled away from her to quickly sheath himself.

He entered her slowly, carefully, taking his time to allow her to absorb his length, and at the same time he claimed her mouth in a kiss that simmered with sensuality yet was so evocative that Sabrina thought she would die from the pleasure of it. When he began to move she met each deep thrust with such unguarded delight that Cruz’s intention to make the loving long and slow was lost in the maelstrom of fierce passion that had always blazed between them.

With each steady stroke he took them both higher, increasing their mutual pleasure until the world no longer existed and there was just their own world of exquisite sensations building, building to a crescendo. Sabrina locked her ankles behind his back and drew him deeper inside her, taking each powerful thrust and wanting more, wanting it to never end and yet desperate, so desperate for the explosive climax that she knew was just ahead of her.

He caught her as she fell, and they tumbled into the abyss together wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts pounding; two bodies in total accord, two souls connected. It was a long time before their breathing slowed and Cruz rolled off her, but he gave her no chance to slide across the bed and firmly drew her against him so that her head rested on his shoulder.

She smiled sleepily and kissed his satiny skin. There were things she wanted to say, things she was afraid to say, she acknowledged ruefully. Cruz had stated that he wanted to look forwards rather than dwell on the past, but Sabrina sensed that the shadow of the accident at the diamond mine and the fact that her father might have been responsible for Vitor Delgado’s death still hung over them.

* * *

‘What would you like to do today?’

Sabrina looked across the breakfast table at Cruz and her heart gave a familiar flip. Dressed in faded jeans and a tight-fitting white tee shirt, his black hair falling across his brow, he was as handsome as ever. But this was a different, more relaxed Cruz. He was a charming and entertaining companion and she loved spending leisurely days with him, relaxing by the pool at his villa or exploring the local area when they visited the beach or walked in the national park.

During the past two weeks that they had been at Quinta na Floresta they had talked more than they had ever done ten years ago. It was different now, she mused. They were older, and she knew it was important to Cruz that they were financially equal, although she had never cared that when she had first met him in Brazil he had been a poor miner.

‘The beach, I think,’ she decided. ‘And maybe we could visit that little market where they sell the hand-painted pottery.’

He looked amused. ‘At this rate we’re going to have trouble taking your collection of crockery on the plane when we fly back to England.’

BOOK: Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1)
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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