Consequence of One Reckless Night (The DaCostas of Pérola #1)

Chapter One

R aquel DaCosta grimaced as she downed her drink before sliding off the stool.

It was Friday night and Club M was packed to the rafters with people, all swaying to the loud music bursting from the speakers. Dim lighting made visibility poor, but no one seemed to care. In fact, it was the perfect setting for letting down one’s hair and dancing their problems away.

And that was exactly what Raquel wanted to do. She wanted to dance like the people around her—mindless and carefree. She wanted to throw her hands up in the air, and let the music take over her body.

She’d only imbibed one glass of whatever the bartender had poured her, but it was already taking effect—filling her with courage that she didn’t have, but desperately needed.

Delicious heat sizzled through her entire being, easing the tension that had plagued her for days.

Her blood began to thump in sync with the loud music, and her feet moved on their own accord, carrying her toward a group of women who were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

She began to move her hips, raising her hands over her head, not caring that the action lifted the hem of her brown dress up to her thighs, the material stretching across her well-rounded buttocks.

The seductive music wove a spell over her, and she willingly surrendered to its call as she began to dance in earnest.

Raquel didn’t know how long she danced but when someone grabbed her hips and pulled her against a hard body, her eyes flew open.

“No.” Immediately her hands flew out, slapping the meaty paws off her hips.

The beady-eyed man grinned wolfishly before reaching for her again. Raquel jumped back, only to be grabbed again.

“Hey!” Slapping his chest, she tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he jerked her toward him, grabbing her arm.

With a gasp, she fell against his chest, crying out when he squeezed her bottom.

Fear shot through her. “Let go of me!” Raquel punched his chest, eliciting a curse from the man but his hold on her didn’t loosen.

She struggled in his embrace, panic bubbling in her veins as his arms tightened around her.

Suddenly, she was torn out of the man’s arms and pushed behind a tall body.

While she squinted at the back of her rescuer whose broad shoulders blocked her view, she heard a man’s cry, followed by the sound of punches before a couple of bouncers gathered around her savior. When the bouncers dragged her unwanted admirer away, she sighed with relief.

Anita was right , Raquel thought. It wasn’t wise to stay alone in a place like Club M where, it was whispered, after midnight the party became an orgy. She should have gone home with Anita, who as soon as they arrived at the club, had to return home because her mother had suddenly become ill.

“Are you alright?” The deep bass of the man’s voice sent a hot shard of heat scything through her as Raquel stared up at her gorgeous rescuer.

****

A lexandre Monteiro surveyed the woman in front of him.

He’d noticed her the moment she had stepped inside the club, arriving with a woman who left as soon as they arrived.

Something about the way she stood at the bar, slouched and unsure of herself, had piqued his interest. From the vantage point of the VIP lounge, he’d watched her take stock of her surroundings before climbing onto a stool.

Her dress was dull brown and loose-fitting, the hem climbing up her thighs when she hoisted herself onto the stool. She was awfully short, he observed, wearing vertiginous heels to add some height to her short stature.

From the distance, he hadn’t been able to discern her features but her long, wavy hair fascinated him. It fell to her waist like a rippling waterfall, and he itched to feel its texture against the roughness of his palms.

Alexandre had had his share of women—so many in fact, that he no longer indulged freely in what was enthusiastically offered to him wherever he went.

Thanks to his good looks and money, women were always willing to grace his arm—and bed, and he’d indulged in the pleasures of the flesh to his heart’s content.

Some of the most beautiful women in the country had graced his bed—models, actresses, socialites—but none had captured his attention like this little woman who downed a drink in one gulp.

He grimaced when she downed the liquor without any finesse before joining the gyrating crowd around her. Emulating the actions of those around her, she swayed her hips provocatively.

Sweat broke out on his brow as he watched her dance, for there was a certain seductive quality to the way she moved. With her hands up in the air, and her head thrown back, his mind conjured up a vision of her moving sinuously above him as she rode him with mindless abandon.

He’d become instantly hard—his reaction both swift and surprising, shattering his self-imposed abstinence.

The thrill of a chase, the pleasure he found in a woman’s body had begun to lose its appeal over the past few months, and Alexandre had feared he was becoming jaded. But his libido had made a stunning recovery watching the mystery woman dance.

He’d stood watching her, his eyes sliding down her body, taking in her small breasts, the narrow waist, flared out hips, and a well-rounded derriere which made his mouth water.

Without pausing to think, Alexandre left the VIP lounge, and ran down the stairs, wanting to get to her—this mystery woman who had jolted his waning libido awake.

But when he drew close to where he’d seen her last, the hair on his nape stood up.

Something was wrong, he knew immediately, his heart pounding rapidly as adrenaline pumped through his blood.

Pushing people out of his way, he caught the eye of one of the bouncers who nodded at him and together, they moved toward his woman.

Suddenly, a sharp cry rent the air and Alexandre knew something terrible had occurred.

The crowd parted for him and the scene that he stumbled upon, curdled his blood. Some drunken pervert had dared to put his grubby hands on his woman—in his own club!

Alexandre saw red. Grabbing the woman out of the bastard’s clutches, he pushed her behind him, then proceeded to beat the man to a pulp, not caring that the people around them had stopped dancing and were staring at the horrific event unfolding in front of their eyes.

One of the bouncers succeeded in convincing him that they would take care of the sick bastard who had dared to touch a woman in his club without her permission.

When the bouncers removed the man from his presence, he turned around to look down at the woman who had not only managed to arouse his libido but had also managed to bring out his protective instincts.

For as long as he had lived, Alexandre didn’t remember ever feeling protective about another person—not his mother, or his grandfather, or even his older half-brother whom he dearly loved. He didn’t know who this woman was and why she stirred up such powerful emotions in him.

“Are you alright?” he asked in English and when she didn’t respond, he repeated the question in Hindi and Konkani, the two languages widely spoken in Goa.

The woman blinked up at him before nodding. She was shaken—her eyes were wide in her small heart-shaped face, her lips opening and closing wordlessly as she struggled to make sense of what just happened.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her elbow and leading her away from the crowd.

****

R aquel let the man lead her away from the dance floor, her brain cells temporarily offline.

Everything happened so fast—one minute she’d been dancing without a care in the world, and the next, some pervert had thought it was okay to grab her.

Despite her clear objection to being touched without her permission, the man had simply proceeded to maul her as though her no had indeed been a yes.

Having been sheltered all her life, Raquel didn’t really have any experience with men—and certainly not with men who thought every woman was fair game.

She shuddered as shock began to set in. What if her savior hadn’t arrived when he had? Would anyone have heard her cry above the din of the party music? Would she have managed to escape that horrible man?

She began to shiver uncontrollably as tears sprang from her eyes.

A curse sounded beside her, and the next thing she knew, she was swung into the arms of the man who had come to her rescue.

She buried her face in her savior’s neck as tears broke free, soaking his collar but she couldn’t stem the waterworks as she continued to tremble against a hard chest.

A faint musky scent pervaded her nostrils as long strands of hair teased her nose. Her hand fisted on his chest while she kept her face buried in the man’s neck, unable—and unwilling, to leave the security his embrace offered.

It was so different from what she had just experienced.

Her attacker had terrified her with his forceful actions—his intentions glaringly obvious, while her savior’s actions filled her with a sense of security that she couldn’t comprehend. She didn’t know this man, and yet, why did she feel safe in his arms?

“Here we are.” The man’s voice was delicious, like thick chocolate syrup on ice cream.

Carefully, she was set down on a plush sofa before her hands were gently removed from broad shoulders which she wanted to cling onto for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Raquel blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the bright light that filled the room.

What was this big room—lined with lush sofas, brilliant lighting and a glass wall that overlooked the dance floor below?

Turning her head, she looked at her savior.

He was tall—gorgeous, with a broad forehead and sharp cheekbones, and eyes as dark as the night.

His eyes were deep set above two straight lines of thick eyebrows.

A thick stubble covered his jaw above which was a nose that had evidently been broken at least once.

He had luscious lips that women would kill to have, but his most beautiful feature was his sable-colored hair—curly, with long strands falling to the top of his shoulders.

A previously unknown feeling settled low in her belly as her eyes slid down his body, taking in the long, thick column of his neck above wide shoulders that she had wrapped her arms around. A snow-white shirt covered his torso, but Raquel felt sure he would be chiseled underneath.

Illicit heat swirled inside her and settled in the spot between her legs as her eyes raked over the length of his body, skipping hastily past his crotch for she couldn’t bring herself to stare at the most private place of a man, and a veritable stranger at that.

Savior or not, this man was a stranger, and Raquel blushed at the lascivious thoughts she’d just entertained.

Quickly, she tore her eyes off him and looked down at her hands that were clasped together in her lap.

“Thank you for coming to my aid.” The whispered words were lost in the loud music which filled the room.

“Did you say something?” her rescuer asked, forcing her to look back at him.

“Thank you,” she said again—loudly this time. “For rescuing me from that man.”

Nodding, he sat down beside her, handing her a glass which appeared out of nowhere. “Drink this,” he suggested. “It’ll help with the nerves.”

Raquel, who had never imbibed before tonight, stared at the cut glass in his hands. “I...” She wasn’t sure if she should take the glass, but the zing in her veins from her first glass of alcohol had died a sudden death after what happened.

And she had loved that zing—the liquid courage which had made her dance boldly. It made her feel happy—and free. And she wanted to experience that feeling once more—desperately.

Tonight was the only time she would truly be on her own because, in the coming weeks, she would be busy with preparations for a wedding she didn’t want but had accidentally agreed to. A shudder ran through her at the thought of her impending marriage.

No, she wouldn’t think about it tonight.

Grabbing the glass extended to her, she downed the contents in one gulp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her rescuer, wince.

“That’s no way to treat good liquor.”

“It tastes awful.”

He laughed and she colored furiously.

She waited to see if the alcohol would light up her blood with the delicious zing that had filled her body mere minutes before.

It had helped her forget her predicament for a little while.

But she didn’t think she could pick up where she’d left.

Disappointed and sad that she couldn’t even have one night of carefree happiness, Raquel stood up.

“Thank you again for saving me. I think I will leave now.”

She turned to leave but stopped when her rescuer spoke. “Don’t go.” Looking over her shoulder, she arched an eyebrow in question.

“Why did you come here tonight?” he asked, his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn’t name.

“To have a good time.”

“Then let me show you one.”