Page 12 of Brazilian Revenge

Chapter Four

“We need to talk to the director,” Leonardo told the receptionist over the half-moon counter.

The clinic was rather small, with a sundry shop in the corner where a middle-aged woman fussed over a day-old pastry. Several patients sat on the bolted-down chairs, and the floor smelled of bleach.

The receptionist’s eyes were glued to the bulky computer screen, her fingers typing the keyboard relentlessly. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but it’s an urgent matter,” he said. When the woman lifted her gaze to his, he flashed her a smile. In the beginning of his career, his looks had been a burden at first—he got pegged as the privileged pretty boy before his clients gave him a chance. If they only knew about all the hardships endured as a poor child growing up in Northeastern Brazil. A child whose mother’s disease claimed her far too early, he had stepped up when his older brother Bruno fled the country for a better life in the USA.

Sure, Bruno had helped by paying for his education, but as soon as Leonardo opened his law firm he paid his brother back. Every single cent. Being the brother of one of the world’s best software developers had opened the doors for his firm, but his talent and determination made it thrive and become one of the most reputable in the country.

The receptionist’s cheeks reddened, and she smoothed her hand over her ponytail. “I can take a look.”

Leaning over the counter, he broadened his smile. “That would be appreciated, Dolores,” he said, reading her nametag.

She blushed. “O-of course.”

Satyanna nudged his elbow. “Nicely played, Romeo. What are you going to do when you meet the director, drop your pants and ask for access to the archives?”

He suppressed a chuckle. “I don’t have to. You were a patient here, and it’s your right to get your medical information.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “True.”

While the receptionist made the call, he glanced around them. A skinny man wearing a blue uniform mopped the floors. That fact would have gone unnoticed, but Leonardo saw the man staring at Satyanna. Quietly. Intently.

Dolores placed the phone on the receiver and turned to him. “He will see you now. What’s your name, senhor?”

“Leonardo Duarte.”

“Oh. Your face is familiar.” She smiled. “From Addie Duarte’s family?”

Leonardo nodded. His sister-in-law’s efforts to help Kwanis and, by extension, Brazilian Indians had gained national exposure after she had worked on a couple of high-profile projects. Hell, he had even assisted her with a couple legal matters.

“The director will see you now.” She leaned over the counter and whispered, “He has a meeting with some vendors.” She pointed at the guy sitting in the corner with a fake leather case on his lap. “But I squeezed you in.” She winked.

He winked back. “Thanks for squeezing me in.”

The receptionist left her booth and gestured for them to follow her.

Satyanna walked too close to him, and the fresh notes of her citrusy scent pushed their way into his nostrils before he could avoid it. “Should I get you two a room?” she asked, a pang of irritation in her voice.

He glanced at her. “Why? You think you are the only one who can use your sex appeal?”

“I haven’t used it in a while.”

“Not even when you got pulled over by the cop?”

“Didn’t work on him. Some guys just have bad taste,” she said, amusement flickering in her eyes. Damn it. She was challenging him, wasn’t she?

“I know what you mean.” He believed her emerald eyes once, and he ended up robbed and, if he was honest with himself, heartbroken. What would be different now? Nothing, and he was about to prove it.

Following the receptionist, he turned into a narrower hallway.

“I have to say, though, you’re pretty handy,” she said in a low voice.

Shaking his head, he gestured for her to go in front of him. “Don’t get cute.”

Satyanna chuckled. “Cute? First I have sex appeal, then I’m cute? Nice to know your opinion of me isn’t as low as it seems.” She nudged his elbow, and the unexpected touch was like a punch in his freaking gut. A part of him seared with yearning for more. A foolish part. His body tensed up, his blood going on a low simmer.

---