Page 6 of Brazilian Revenge

“When we met, I was set up. I didn’t know it at the time, but Harry used me to steal from you.”

“Did he also instruct you to sleep with me?” he asked, and hoped his cool smile masked the frustration choking him inside. She had misled him for an entire weekend, and stupid idiot that he was, he fell for it. Shit. Fell for her, even though he didn’t usually believe in that kind of crap. Real, everlasting love couldn’t brew from lies and deception. And, after having witnessed his parents’ wonderful marriage, he could never settle for simple physical attraction.

“No.” She lifted her chin. “That mistake was mine alone.”

Mistake. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up, charged. She parted her mouth, and he watched her dry flesh. His fingers tingled with need to trace her lips, to stroke her blemished skin with the back of his hand. To take care of her wounds. Nonsense.

Balling his fist into a curl, he swallowed. Hard. “I don’t believe you, Satyanna.” He pronounced her name like it was a damn curse. Even though he stood in front of her, he was breathless as if he had done some hardcore exercising. “I have no reason to help you.”

Her weight shifted from foot to foot. “I’ll give you one. You owe me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I was pregnant with your baby, goddamn it,” she said, and for the first time during that conversation, her voice wavered.

…

Satyanna clenched the cold metal bar so hard her palm cramped. Pain swept over her, and her shoulders started to sag, but she immediately lifted her chin and willed herself to keep composure.

Her body hurt. The beating from earlier still seared her skin, the bruises fresh and the pain throbbing, but none of it surpassed the emotion suffocating her. Ever since she lost Lyanna, the baby girl she never got to hold or nuzzle against her skin, this was the first time she spoke about her out loud. It had been three months since that dreadful day, but she just knew her life would never be the same.

She needed to go back to the US and regroup, start over and enjoy the life her daughter had been denied. That was the least she could do to honor her memory. How could she, though? When she had rebelled against Harry for using her as bait to steal from Leonardo, her once father figure had been clear. She would never be able to leave Brazil without him, and his fake IDs and contacts. You are nothing without me. He had been upset about her adamant decision to keep her pregnancy and also not use it to their benefit.

What an idiot she had been to believe he had stopped scheming and actually worked for a living. That was her fault, wasn’t it? Believing. Well, it had been. Not anymore.

The contours of Leonardo’s face tightened, his lips thinning. She took a deep breath and tried hard not to let his good looks distract her from what was important. Tough task. He towered over her, and even though he still wore a suit, there was a sparky, dangerous edge in his narrowed hazel eyes.

When they had slept together, she had marveled over his muscled physique, and oh, how wonderful it had been to lay her head on his broad, olive shoulders. Strangely enough, the couple of days she shared with him offered her the type of misleading security that could really make a girl wonder. And dream.

A laugh sliced the air, and she blinked out of her reverie. She realized he was the one laughing, though there was no amusement on his stern expression. Yep. Wonder’s gone.

“You must think I’m stupid to fall for that one. Now, let me guess, you’re going to ask for child support?”

Tears brimmed her eyes, and her grip on the bars loosened. What did she expect? “No.” She lifted her trembling hand to her chest. “The baby is dead.”

“I don’t believe you. We used condoms.”

“I think we, er, got too distracted in the hot tub,” she said, and wrestled with the memories flashing through her mind. Damn, she had been distracted, too, hadn’t she? The man had the most gorgeous V on his waist any guy had the right to. The smallest hint of smile curled at his lips, and she wondered if he, too, had any nice recollection from their sinful fling?

He reared back, hands on his waist, assessing her. She ran her fingers through her kinky, stubborn hair, and wished she had a rubber band handy or something. Of course Leonardo looked like he had just stepped out of a Dolce & Gabbana fashion show, and after two days in that dingy cell, she could really do with a shower and fresh clothes. “No. You’re lying.”

She drew in a breath. What a stubborn man. He believed she stole from him, and she had associated with one of the world’s most prolific scoundrels. So, yeah, maybe Leonardo had a point. If she wanted a life outside prison she would have to try harder. If he sent her to the US and she was prosecuted over there, she’d be toast. By the time she was fifteen and fled the youth house with Harry, she should have known better. When he told her he knew who her birth parents were but he’d only reveal if she helped him with one scheme, posing as his daughter so he could pretend to be a rich widower and scheme an old lady… She had been young and naive. Who cared if for the past few years she had insisted on a righteous life?

Biting her lower lip, she unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. Even though she hadn’t eaten in two days—the gross dog food she had been offered only brought bile to her throat—the lack of air conditioning and the scorching heat had glued the denim to her waist like a second skin. Chewing her lower lip, she tugged at her underwear.

“What are you—”

He stopped talking when his gaze slid down her shirt toward her belly, and she could tell by the clenching of his jaw the instant he spotted her scar. The surgeon hadn’t done a good job, even though they said it would eventually diminish and become less noticeable.

“At eight months pregnant I had eclampsia. My blood pressure spiked, and I needed an emergency C-section. I had brain bleed and fell into a two-week medically induced coma. The baby never made it.”

“If this is true, why didn’t you ever look for me and tell me you were pregnant?”

“Because I wanted to have the baby first. I thought I could keep it a secret until she was born. I knew you blamed me for the theft, and I figured having a baby in my arms would make you stop and talk to me at the very least. You could run paternity tests easily.” And hopefully not throw me in jail, she added inwardly. A taste of sourness and irony clung to her palate. How wrong had she been?

He scratched his chin, his eyes gleaming. “What is there to convince me you aren’t in it with Clemonte? That you didn’t make up this story just so you can get me and try to achieve whatever you think I will be dumb enough to hand over?”

She hardened her gaze at him. “Are you for real? No one gets a C-section for fun. You can call the clinic and ask. Confirm what I told you. Ask them about Lyanna.”

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