Setting her jaw, she glared at him. “A million dollars is almost not enough to deal with this,” she muttered. His lip twisted. “Too late to renegotiate.”
“Go to hell.”
“Is that any way to speak in front of your baby?”
Turning back into the car, Laura unbuckled Robby. Her son cooed happily, reaching up his chubby arms for her embrace, and she was happy she had one person in Brazil who actually loved her. Leaving the baby carrier in the limo, she scooped him out of his seat. He giggled, clinging to her wrinkled satin bridesmaid’s dress.
Laura felt tired, grungy, dirty. After her poor night’s sleep on the jet, after traveling halfway around the world, and most of all, after the constant friction of having Gabriel near her, Laura’s emotions were too close to the surface. The flash of his dark eyes, the slightest touch of his hand, the merest word of kindness from his sensual lips, still made her tremble and melt.
He was poison for her, she thought grimly. Poison wrapped in honeyed words and hot desire.
She held her baby close and walked around Gabriel with as much dignity as she possessed, her shoulders straight. Her pink high heels—picked out from a thrift shop by Becky for five dollars—clattered against the marble floor as Laura walked through the back entrance and past the security guards toward the private elevator.
Gabriel followed her without a word. The elevator doors closed behind them, and she breathed in his scent. She felt his warmth beside her. She didn’t look at him. His tall, powerful body was so close and she felt every inch.
The last time they’d been together in this elevator, they’d been on the way to the penthouse, after they’d just made love downstairs on the desk in his office. It had been her first time. He’d been shocked she was a virgin, even apologetic. He’d kissed her so tenderly in this very elevator, taking her back up to the penthouse with whispered promises that this time would be different, that he’d make it good for her, that he’d make her weep with joy. And he had.
The elevator dinged at the same instant Robby struggled in her arms with a plaintive whine. Looking down, Laura saw he was peeking behind her at Gabriel, reaching out his plump arms. Gabriel didn’t move to take the baby, or even smile. Of course he wouldn’t. Why would he take the slightest interest in his own child? She knew she was being unreasonable, but she still felt angry. Exhaling, Laura walked into the penthouse.
His modern, masculine, clutter-free apartment had two bedrooms, a study, a dining room and main room off the kitchen. The whole place had clean lines, white walls and high ceilings, and a stark decor. A wall of windows two stories high showcased the breathtaking view of the pool and terrace, with Ipanema Beach and the Atlantic visible beyond.
“I’m so glad to see you again, Senhora Laura.” Maria Silva, Gabriel’s housekeeper and former nanny, was waiting for them. Her gaze moved to Robby. “This must be your sweet baby.”
“Senhora?” Laura repeated, confused at how she’d just gotten promoted to a married woman.
The plump-cheeked, white-haired woman blushed. “You’re a mother. You deserve respect,” she said, then held out her hands to the baby. Robby gave a gleeful cackle, and Maria took him happily in her arms.
Frowning, Laura slowly looked around her. The penthouse seemed the same, but it had changed somehow. She saw to her surprise that all the electric plugs and sharp edges had been covered. Peeking into the dining room, she saw it was entirely filled with toys.
Laura turned to Gabriel in wonder. “All this?” she said. “For one night?”
He shrugged. “Don’t thank me. Maria did it.”
Laura’s heart, which had been rising, fell back to her shoes.
“We’ll have a wonderful time this afternoon, won’t we?” Maria said to Robby, whirling the baby around to make him giggle. “If you need us, Mrs. Laura, we’ll be making lunch.”
Laura turned to follow them into the kitchen, but Gabriel stopped her. “They’ll be fine. Go freshen up.”
She scowled at him. “Stop barking orders at me. You weren’t this bad when I worked for you.”
“Do you want a shower or not?”
From the kitchen, Laura dimly heard Maria getting out pots and pans as she sang a song to the baby in Portuguese. Robby started banging the pans with a wooden spoon, keeping the beat. They seemed fine. Laura set her jaw, then grudgingly admitted, “I do want a shower.”
“You have ten minutes.” When she didn’t move, he lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Need help?”
She saw his lips curve as he turned away, walking down the hallway. Pulling off his shirt, he dropped it to the floor as he stopped in the doorway of his bedroom. He looked back at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Go. Right now. Or I will assist you.”
“I’m going!” With a gulp, Laura ran for the safety of her old bedroom.
Her room had changed, as well. All the old furniture she’d had as his live-in secretary was gone, of course. The space had been turned into a bland guest room. Except.
She saw the brand-new elliptical wooden crib beside the bed, the changing table with diapers and baby clothes and everything else Robby might need. She exclaimed with delight as she touched the smooth wood. In the closet, she saw new clothes for her, as well. Gabriel had truly thought of everything. Going to the closet, she touched a black dress with a soft, satisfied sigh.
Then she saw the size on the tag.
Well, she thought with dismay, he hadn’t thought of everything.
CHAPTER FIVE
TEN MINUTES LATER, Gabriel paced beneath the hot sun across his rooftop terrace. He stopped, staring down at Ipanema Beach across the Avenida Vieira Souto. He could hear the loud music from the crowds celebrating below. Lifting his eyes, he looked past the throngs of people, past the yellow umbrellas and food vendors to the shining waves of the surf, trying to calm his pounding heart.
Now Laura was here, everything would soon be sorted out. Oliveira and Adriana would both believe that they were in love. They had to believe. Otherwise….
No, he wouldn’t let himself think about failure, not even for an instant. He couldn’t lose his father’s company, not now that it was finally within his grasp. He gripped the railing, glaring at the bright horizon of blue ocean. All along the coastline, tall buildings vied with the sharp green mountains for domination of the sky.
He’d changed into khaki shorts and an open, button-down shirt over a tank top, with flip-flops on his feet, Carioca-style. He paced his private rooftop. Bright sunlight reflected prisms from the water of his swimming pool. Turning back, he stared down blindly at the scantily clad women on Ipanema Beach, to Leblon to the west, ending in the stark, sharp green mountain of Dois Irmãos.
Gabriel had been only nineteen when he’d lost everything. His parents. His brother. His home. His hands tightened on the rail. When he’d had the chance to sell his family’s business the day after the funeral, Gabriel had taken it. He’d fled to New York, leaving his grief behind.
Except grief had followed him. Consumed him. Even as he created an international company far larger than his father’s had ever been, the guilt of what he’d done—causing the accident, but being the only survivor; inheriting his father’s company, only to carelessly sell it—never left him. Never.
“Well, I did it,” Laura gasped suddenly behind him. “Ten minutes.”
“Very efficient,” he said, turning to face her. “You should know that—”
His words froze in his throat.
Gabriel’s eyes traced over her in shock as he watched her towel off her long wet hair. He took in the erotic vision of her