Chapter 11
Welcome to Paradise
It’s a little too hot!
Knowing that my time to explore Rio is limited, I quickly return to the lobby to meet my driver for the day. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see that the most handsome man in the line happens to be holding a sign with my name on it.
Like many of the other gentlemen, he has dark brown hair and eyes, but he stands out because he has the most engaging smile.
Taking a deep breath, I hesitate before walking over to make introductions. Taking a moment to remind myself of how much I’ve grown in this course, I walk up to him with the reserved confidence of a well-trained submissive.
My driver’s smile grows wider as I approach. “Greetings, Dona Lane.”
“Hello…” I begin, then instantly freeze when he leans down and proceeds to kiss me on the left cheek and then the right. Although the intimate greeting may be common in Brazil, it’s new to me, and heat rises to my cheeks.
“Thank you…” I blurt out, then realize that’s an odd response. Instead of mentally berating myself, I keep my composure and smile up at him. “What a lovely way to greet someone.”
He flashes a grin. “Shall we do it again, then?”
Grasping my shoulders gently, he leans in and we air-kiss each other’s cheeks. I find myself blushing a second time. This man carries himself with a definite Dominant vibe that makes my insides quiver with excitement. However, it’s his genuine smile that I find quite disarming.
“What is your name?” I ask as he escorts me out of the hotel.
“It is not important.”
“It is to me,” I insist.
He stops for a moment and looks at me before answering with a glint in his eye, “Rafael.”
His name perfectly matches his sexy personality. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Rafael.”
He nods, a hint of amusement in his smile, as we walk outside. “Where would you like me to take you today?”
I immediately glance out at the beach teaming with people. “Despite hating big crowds, I’d like to dip my toes in the ocean before we head out.”
“Easy enough. Anywhere else, moca?”
I look up at the incredible statue on the mountain overlooking the city.
“Ah, you would like to see Christ the Redeemer up close…” he states, then adds, “Just so you are aware, it is a highly popular destination.”
“Meaning even more crowds…” I groan inwardly. “Even though it’s incredible, I chose to skip the Eiffel Tower when I was in Paris just to avoid the huge crowds.”
“I know the perfect place to take you, then,” he asserts. “Is there anything else in the city you would like to see?”
I smile when I look up to meet his gaze. “Surprise me!”
“I would be honored to.” When he flashes that charming grin, I feel myself blushing again.
Rafael stays close to me as I walk onto the beach. I immediately take off my sandals to feel the warm sand between my toes. I look out of place on a beach bustling with multitudes of people in sexy swimsuits, including buff, bare-chested waiters offering me tropical drinks.
Shooing them away, Rafael puts his hand on my back and guides me through the throngs of beachgoers to the waterline.
I’m finally able to take in the stunning views of the coast dotted with towering rock formations and sigh with contentment, murmuring to myself, “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is,” Rafael agrees.
I’m fully aware that his hand is still resting against my back, and feel a sensual rush course through my body.
Lifting the skirt of my dress, I decide to venture into the water and giggle when the waves lap against my feet.
I’m surprised to find that the water is warm, when all I’ve ever experienced is the cold water of the North Atlantic.
Wading out further, I close my eyes and listen to the ocean crashing against the shore behind me, while the breeze brushes my skin.
If it weren’t for the constant din of the people around me, this would be paradise.
Because my eyes are closed, I’m caught off guard when a rogue wave crashes against me, nearly knocking me off my feet as it drenches the bottom of my dress.
Laughing, I hurry out of the water and catch Rafael smiling at me. “You could have warned me!” I accuse him teasingly.
“What would be the fun in that?”
I shake my head as I ring out the fabric. “I think I’ve had enough of the beach.”
“For now,” he states with a grin. Guiding me to a water station, he stands watch as I clean off the sand before putting my sandals back on. He then weaves through the crowds like a hockey player as he escorts me to his car.
Unlike the more formal black vehicles of my other escorts, he drives a sleek sports car in vibrant yellow. “Let me help you, Dona Lane,” he insists as he opens the passenger door and holds out his hand to me.
Having practiced grace at the Training Center, I manage to get into the sexy hotrod without issue and watch as he walks to the other side and slips into the driver’s seat. “Are you ready for an adventure?”
I give him an enthusiastic nod and grab onto the door handle when he revs up the engine before taking off. He looks at me, his eyes flashing with mischief as he effortlessly weaves through the traffic.
“Are you a racecar driver?” I laugh.
“No, I just know how to handle what’s mine.”
It seems quite the suggestive answer, and I can’t help thinking, I bet you do…
He takes me on a twenty-minute drive, weaving up a road that takes us close to the top of one of the mountains. At a turnabout that looks like it has a park trail, he exits his vehicle and hands a gentleman the keys before opening my door and helping me out.
“This is Mirante Dona Marta,” he announces, indicating the path ahead.
I stare at the trail entrance and look at him apologetically. “I’m not exactly dressed for a hike.”
He winks and holds out his arm. “It only takes a few steps to get the best panoramic view of the city.”
Putting my trust in him, I wrap my arm around his. Thankfully, it turns out that the trail is actually paved and lined with rows of beautiful trees. Ahead, I can just make out a flight of steps made of stone.
It’s encouraging to note there is only a light crowd of people, and many of them are dressed as casually as I am. It doesn’t take long before we reach a lookout area, and I catch my first glimpse of Rio de Janeiro from high above.
The view leaves me totally speechless as I take it all in.
Rafael highlights several points of interest. “That is the iconic Sugarloaf Mountain, made of granite and quartz. It stands at the mouth of Guanabara Bay. You can see Copacabana from here and…there is Christ the Redeemer off in the distance.” He grins when he adds with pride, “And that is our beautiful city skyline. Have you ever seen anything so grand?”
“No, I have not,” I enthusiastically agree. Digging out my phone, I attempt to capture the spectacular views by taking dozens of shots and videos at different angles, wanting to record how incredibly stunning this place really is.
I can’t wait to share it with Gwen when I return home!
Once I am satisfied with my photos, I turn to Rafael and confess, “I can’t think of a more beautiful view in all the world.”
He smiles. “Oh, I can.”
The man is full of innuendos and has an intoxicating mystery about him.
“Where to next?” I ask. Although nothing can compare to this, I’m excited to see where Rafael plans to take me.
We only have a short wait, before the gentleman retrieves the car and hands over the keys. He shakes his head in admiration as he looks at the vehicle and says something in Portuguese.
Curious about what the gentleman said, I ask Rafael after we get into his car.
Rafael pats the dashboard. “He was simply complimenting my Puma GT 1500.”
“So that’s what this sexy car is called…”
Rafael winks at me in answer as he revs the car before heading back down the mountain.
He drives me into the heart of Rio de Janeiro itself.
After taking a hot minute to find a parking spot, Rafael walks me to the entrance of an impressive building made of white stone.
It has a decidedly Gothic aesthetic to it.
As he opens the door, he pronounces the name in flowing Portuguese, “This is the Real Gabinete Português de Leitura.”
Unsure what that means, I’m in for a pleasant surprise when I step inside the cathedral-like structure and catch the distinctive scent of old books.
I look up to see the walls lined from floor to ceiling with dark wooden bookshelves filled with hundreds of thousands of books. The shelves reach several stories high!
The gold accents on the shelving, along with the intricately carved wood, add to the sheer grandeur of this place.
It’s like a cathedral for books, with winding staircases and charming balconies to access the many volumes on display.
And to add to the elegance, a huge stained-glass skylight bathes the entire area in its warm light.
I’m drawn to stand in the center of the floor and turn around slowly to drink it all in, completely entranced by the knowledge that every spine I see holds secrets just waiting to be shared.
“This is pure magic,” I whisper to Rafael, not wanting to shatter the reflective silence that hovers over the place.
He nods, clearly pleased by my reaction.
But an older tourist, toting a giant purse, narrows her eyes at me and puts her finger to her lips.
“It is a national treasure,” Rafael replies in a low, even tone. He then makes a point to smile at the woman, whose face suddenly turns beet red as she stares back at him bashfully before turning away.
It appears he can charm anyone with that smile.
After lingering over the numerous artifacts and books on display behind glass on the ground floor, I hesitate to leave this place and glance up at all of those books on the shelves.
As if he can read my mind, Rafael whispers, “Would you like to read one of them?”
Surprised, I ask him, “They’re not just for display?”
“This is a library, Dona Lane. What good is a book if it cannot be read?”