Laura and Gabriel walked down the beach to a slightly quieter area and found an empty spot past a big yellow umbrella. She saw families splashing in the surf with their children, as nearby, groups of young people drank together beneath the sun as they waited for the nighttime party to really begin, the women wearing tiny thong bikinis, the men in skintight shorts.
Laura took Robby out of the stroller, and when she looked around, Gabriel was gone. She placed her baby in her lap and Robby reached to take a handful of sand in his fist. She saw Gabriel across the beach, talking to a barraqueiro. A moment later, he was walking back across the beach toward her. He held up a plastic shovel and pail.
“I thought Robby would like to play,” he said gruffly.
“Thank you,” she said, shocked at his thoughtfulness.
He smiled, and the warmth of his suddenly boyish face as he held out the pail and shovel to Robby nearly made her gasp. As the baby happily took the shovel, Gabriel stretched out beside them and showed him how to dig in the sand.
Laura stared at him in amazement.
First he’d known how to handle the stroller. Then he’d thought of buying toys for their baby. He claimed he disliked children, so why was he acting like this?
Robby responded to his father’s tutelage by first trying to chew on the shovel, then to eat the sand. Gabriel laughed, and with infinite patience, again showed him how to dig. Soon he had the baby in his lap. Robby was very curious about sand and kept dumping it on them both, then laughing uproariously. Soon deep male laughter joined with the baby squeals, and for Laura it was the sound of joy. She looked at Gabriel’s handsome face, watching him as he smiled down at the child he did not know was his, and her heart filled her throat.
How could he not realize that Robby was his son?
“He likes you,” she whispered. “And you seem to know how to take care of a baby.”
Gabriel’s dark eyes met hers. Then his expression abruptly became cold. He handed Robby back to her, causing the baby to give a little whine of protest. “No, I really don’t.”
All around them, she was dimly aware of the noise of the street party, of half-naked Cariocas tanning themselves beneath the sun, of people laughing and singing and making music all around them.
It wasn’t too late for her to tell Gabriel the truth. She could tell him now. By the way, Gabriel, I never took any other man as my lover. You were so careful to use protection, but guess what? You’re Robby’s father.
How would he take that news?
He wouldn’t be glad. Even in her most fantastic dreams she knew that. He’d told her a million times, in every possible way, that he didn’t want a wife or children. Even today, when he’d asked her to be his mistress for real, he’d said he’d be willing to “overlook” her child. That he’d allow her baby to live in the downstairs apartment so he wouldn’t be forced to endure his presence.
And worse. If there was one thing Gabriel resented almost as much as the thought of having a family, it was someone lying to his face. If he found out that Laura had lied to him for over a year, he would never forgive her. He would take responsibility for the child they’d created—yes—and he’d try to get some kind of custody. But he would not love their son. And he would hate her.
Tomorrow, she repeated to herself desperately. They would go home to their little farmhouse in the great north woods, safe and sound. She’d never have to see Gabriel again.
But that reassurance was wearing thin. Every moment she spent with Gabriel, seeing him with their son, she found herself wishing she could believe the dream. Wishing he could love them.
The truth about Robby hovered on her lips. But the rational part of her brain stayed in control, keeping her from blurting it out. If she told him the truth, only bad things could happen. And she’d no longer be in control of Robby’s future.
Gabriel glanced at his watch. The sun had started to lower in the sky over the green Dois Irmãos mountain rising sharply to the west. “We should go. Your stylist is waiting at the penthouse.”
“Stylist?”
He rose to his feet. “For the gala.”
He held out his hand, and Laura hesitated. A wistful sigh came from her lips. The brief happiness of feeling like a family was over. “All right.”
She allowed him to pull her to her feet. Tucking a yawning, messy, sand-covered Robby back into the stroller, she followed Gabriel across the beach toward home. By now the avenue was so crowded that Gabriel had to physically clear a path for the stroller.
When they safely reached the opposite side of the street, he looked at her. “I’m looking forward to seeing your dress tonight.” He gave her a sensual smile. “And seeing it off you.”
He was so sure of himself it infuriated her. But as his dark eyes caught hers, her feet tripped on the sidewalk. He caught the stroller, grabbing her arm. Then, leaning forward, he kissed her.
“Nothing will stop me from having you,” he whispered in her ear. “Tonight.”
With an intake of breath, she felt butterflies of longing and sharp bee stings of need all over her body. Tightening her hands on the handle, she pushed the stroller as fast as she could toward the building. She told herself that the sexy, tender, strong man she’d just seen on the beach, playing with their baby son, was a mirage. She couldn’t let herself be fooled by his act. Gabriel was always ruthlessly charming when he wanted something. And right now, he wanted her.
Gabriel Santos always won by any means necessary. Both in business and his romantic conquests. But once he’d had what he wanted, once he’d possessed her in his bed, he would be done with her. He would no longer be willing to tolerate the fact that she had a child. He would toss her out, or drive her out. He would replace her.
She licked her lips as he caught up with her. “What’s going to happen tonight?”
His sensual mouth curved. “You already know.”
She looked at his face. There was a five o’clock shadow on the hard edges of his jaw, giving his handsome face a barbaric appearance. “Felipe Oliveira is no fool. He’s suspicious. What if after tonight, he still doesn’t believe that you love me?”
“He will.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Gabriel’s dark eyes glinted with amusement. “Then I have a plan.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE Fantasia gala ball was the single most sought-after invitation of Rio de Janeiro’s Carnaval. Laura had read about it in celebrity gossip magazines in the United States. The glamorous event, held in a colonial palace on the Costa Verde south of Rio, attracted beautiful, rich and notorious guests from all around the world. And tonight, Laura would be one of them. Tonight, she would be Gabriel Santos’s beloved mistress.
His pretend mistress, she corrected herself fiercely.
The door of the black Rolls-Royce sedan opened, and she and Gabriel stepped out onto the red carpet that led inside the palace, which had once been owned by the Brazilian royal family.
Gabriel looked brutally dashing in his black tuxedo. Laura felt his hungry gaze on her as he took her arm. She tried to ignore it, tried to smile for the benefit of the paparazzi flashing cameras around them, but her body shook beneath the palpable force of his desire.
I want you, Laura. And I will have you.
Liveried doormen in wigs opened tall, wide doors. Gabriel and Laura went down a gilded hallway, then entered a ballroom