Page 17 of Thiago
He scrubbed his fingers across his bearded jaw.
What the hell was wrong? Was she simply in a bad mood, or had he done something to upset her?
Chapter Eight
Thiago straightened his tie as he walked into the conservatory at the rear of his parents’ home. The hum of conversation hit him, along with the soft clink of glassware and the gentle swell of classic jazz from the string quartet on an elevated platform in the middle of the room.
He saw his sister, Monica, right away. She had recently cut her short, natural hair, and her makeup was immaculate. Both arms were locked around her fiancé’s arm as they chatted with friends.
Andre Campos wore a suit and tie, but there was no mistaking the subtle roughness in his brooding appearance. Thiago was very protective of his sisters and hadn’t been sure at first that Andre was the right man for Monica, but he had proved himself worthy by loving her openly and treating her the way she deserved to be treated.
Monica had a big personality, and Andre seemed content to let her shine in the spotlight—and shine she did tonight. Her shimmering, floor-length gold dress clung to her slender curves and brushed her ankles, only offering a glimpse of the bedazzled sandals on her feet. And that smile—well, she was glowing—had become a permanent fixture on her face.
The party room, as the family called it, contained a high ceiling and arched windows that let the moonlight pour in from all sides. Glass panels revealed the pitch-black sky dotted with stars, and chandeliers attached to iron rafters cast a warm glow on the party.
Guests were dressed in cocktail attire, milling around the room with glasses of wine or small plates containing canapés. Servers moved among them in crisp white shirts and black vests, while a photographer captured candid photos of the attendees.
His brother, Bruno, was near the bar with his pregnant wife, Marissa, talking to their other brother, Ignacio. Meanwhile, Ignacio’s fiancée, R&B singer Delta J, was surrounded by what appeared to be a group of young fans.
Thiago strolled toward the long banquet table on the other side of the room, greeting family members and friends along the way. He stopped in front of the spread, lifted a mini beef Wellington from one of the silver trays, and added two of the phyllo cups topped with caviar.
Someone came up beside him. “You finally made it.”
The comment came from Ethan, his older stepbrother. Ethan was a real estate mogul who was on track to complete his biggest project later this year—a mixed-use development named Horizon, located southeast of the city.
“Finally?” Thiago said.
“You’re late,” Ethan said pointedly.
Technically true. He had stayed longer at work than he should have. On the way out, he had swung by India’s office to say good night, expecting to see her hard at work behind her desk since they weren’t going to see each other later. Instead, her office was empty, and the lights were out, which meant she had already left.
“Fashionably late,” Skye, Ethan’s wife, interjected.
“Gracias,hermosa.” Thiago pulled her into a hug, and her very pregnant belly pressed into his abs.
Stepping back, he took a good look at her. Her face was fuller, her tawny-gold skin glowed, and her eyes held a distinct sparkle. Though she and Ethan hadn’t been married long, she’d practically been a part of their family for years, and he’d never seen her livelier or more attractive. Pregnancy looked good on her.
“Since you’re having his baby, you know you’re never getting rid of him now, yes?”
Skye giggled. “I know. But I kinda like this guy.”
She placed a hand on Ethan’s arm, affection in her gaze as she looked at her husband.
Thiago shrugged. “I tried to warn you.”
“Go to hell,” Ethan muttered, slipping an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
As they continued talking, their youngest sibling, Maxwell, approached. A product of Thiago’s Mexican father and Black stepmother, he had toasty-brown skin and longish curly hair.
“Did I miss anything?” he asked, scanning the room.
“Just the lipstick on the corner of your mouth,” Ethan said dryly.
Maxwell’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” He lifted a hand to his face.
“What haveyoubeen up to?” Skye asked.
“No good, apparently,” Thiago said.
