Page 3 of The Bride's Billionaire

“Perfeito. I know just the place.” He reached for her hand.

When their fingers interlocked, a fun warmth spread up her arm. She eyed him. “Are you always this friendly with perfect strangers?”

“No way. I’m a ruthless businessman…but I’ve already seen you in the dress. It does something to a man.”

She laughed. “Well, okay then. This is nice. Do I get to know your name?”

“Tyler.”

“And I’m Kayla.”

He nodded. “First names. Fun, no promises, just a good time.”

“And you’re American? Here on business?” She shook her head. “Wait. I don’t want to talk work, not yet.”

He held up his hands. “I am American. Agreed on leaving work behind. This night just keeps getting better and better.” He interlocked their fingers again.

She quickened her pace to keep up. “And you’re a fast walker. I love fast walkers.”

“We’ve got places to be, the way I see it. No time to waste puttering along.”

She grinned, wondering if, when the night was over, she’d wish for more time with this charming, energetic person.

They turned the corner and he held the door open to Rio’s famous churrascaria, with a balcony that overlooked the night sky and, in this case, the approaching sunset. He handed a crisp Benjamin Franklin to the maître d, who immediately led them to the back and up the stairs to the balcony. Exiting out into the open space, Kayla pause. The music played softly, the street noise was dimmed, ceiling fans slowly swirled, but the night air was pleasant, slightly balmy. And the sky was ablaze. Purples, reds, oranges filled the horizon.

“This is stunning.” They both sat and appreciated the view for many minutes.

“Thank you,” she said, after a while. Her voice sounded quiet to her ears. In truth, she was a bit in awe of the sky, their immediate seating, and the man across from her.

When he turned his brilliant green eyes on her, she almost sucked in a breath but forced herself to act normal.

“You are welcome. Thanks for being the kind of woman game for a night like tonight.”

The waiters started bringing the cuts of meat, young men dressed in black with long skewers of meat and sharp knives. With each new cut, she pointed out the portion on the skewer she wanted on her plate and watched as they sliced it for her. After several visits to the most incredible salad bar she’d ever seen and multiple plates of meat, she turned her indicator card to STOP and sat back in her chair, unsure she could ever move again.

Tyler kept eating. He indicated her drink. “Best to drink as much as you can after all that meat.”

She nodded. “I know. I just don’t know if I can force another thing down.”

Then the waiters brought out small bowls of mango sorvete, and she decided she could force another thing down after all. After one bite, the cool, refreshing feel of the sorvete cleansed her palate and she could drink. “I’ll never eat a better meal.”

He sat back and smiled, his expression appreciative. “I think I’m going to agree with you. Best meal, and I’ll add: best date. I’ve never met anyone as spontaneous as I am.” He shook his head.

“You have impeccable timing.” When their eyes met, she knew his interest was growing, maybe as much as hers. But could she really start something with this guy when so much was at stake for her company? When she had such a big day tomorrow?

Watching his white teeth in a growing smile, his expression open and welcoming, she thought just maybe she could.

Chapter 2

Tyler couldn’t believe his luck. What a woman. And she seemed available, at least temporarily. He held up a grape from the fruit platter they’d been brought at the end of the meal, right after the delicious mango sorvete. “You ready?” He acted like he was about to toss it.

“Oh, I’m good at this. Yes!”

Inwardly, he celebrated. His last girlfriend had never been willing to try and catch things in her mouth. Certain she’d drop it or look like a fool, she always laughed and dodged or outright refused. Whowasthis awesome spontaneous woman? He tossed it to her in a high long arc. She caught it easily and then held both hands up in the air. “Mmm. That is a good grape!”

“It might be imported. Brazil doesn’t have a lot of grapes, from what I’ve seen.”

“How often are you here?”

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