Chapter 9
Emmeline
Sun. Surf. Beautiful people.
Correction, handsome men with godlike bodies. Carved to perfection, bronzed from both heritage and the rays of sunshine.
Gorgeous smiles, and eyes holding promises of passion-filled nights after drinking and dancing. Alongside killer accents augmenting their extreme sex appeal amidst a perfect backdrop of incredibly rich food, amazing wines, spectacular music, and a dash of the forbidden.
An incredible setting.
If only I could fully relax.
Taking a deep breath, I enjoyed the sounds of the ocean water gently tumbling against the shore. The day couldn’t be any more perfect than what it was.
Yet the tension remained high.
Breathe, girl. Enjoy. This is your vacation.
All alone.
“Seu merlot, senhorita.”
Hearing the young man’s Portuguese accent was heavenly.
Tilting my head, I lifted my sunglasses, taking a few seconds to savor his handsome face.
While he was far too young for me, that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the view.
What I’d found almost horrifying in the day and a half since I’d been in Rio was that as attractive as the men were in bars, the hotel, on the street, and on the beach, I wasn’t interested.
And I’d been approached by several handsome men. I’d come to Brazil to let go, to enjoy the fruits of wicked sex while working on my tan, but I wasn’t interested in any Adonis strutting their stuff in teensy-tiny man whore bikinis.
A true tragedy.
Still, the beach waiter’s voice was as tempting as his sculpted features. With a wink, he placed the wine on the table beside me.
“Obrigado, Francisco.” Thanking him, I dared drag my tongue across my bottom lip. A behavior that I hardly realized I was doing.
His salacious grin was a reminder that I was here all alone. While exactly where I wanted to be, that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be careful. There were bad eggs everywhere.
He backed away, still giving me an appreciative eye. Settling in, I lowered my shades, reaching for my wine. After a few sips, I leaned my head against the lounge chair, breathing more easily than I’d done in a long time.
When Kylie had suggested I get out of town for a few days, I’d known she’d been thinking maybe Atlanta or Hilton Head. Not Rio de Janeiro. What was that fun expression? Oh, yes. Go big or go home. At this point, I had no intention of going back to New Orleans for several weeks.
I had plenty of money to keep me in the style I preferred. I’d rented a gorgeous home overlooking the Guanabara Bay, a beautiful harbor of turquoise saltwater. I had a vehicle at my disposal, a maid who came regularly, and I was close to shops and nightclubs.
Leaving New Orleans had been done for two reasons. One, I wanted to see how the boys handled running Indulgence. They’d always acted as if doing so was easy. Let them discover the truth.
Two, and more important, I wanted my family to realize it was time for them to allow me to enjoy my life. All of it. Getting away seemed like the logical choice to make a point. Plus, I hadn’t gone on a vacation in…
Wow.
Not since I’d graduated college.
Plus, there was that other thing, the nagging realization that kept my stomach in knots. Fuck it. I was determined to enjoy myself.
I’d been lucky in that when you had enough money, you could make anything happen quickly. The first-class flights had been a delight, more relaxing than I would have thought.
After taking another sip of wine, I finally felt the tension starting to ease.
With the light breeze, the waves, and the music coming from the beach bar, the atmosphere was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
There was a chair on the other side of the tiny table and someone had decided to take up the spot without asking me.
Now that pissed me off.
Without drawing but so much attention to what I was doing, I grabbed my beach bag with my left hand, wrapping my fingers around one of two weapons I’d brought with me.
“Ora, você n?o atiraria em um homem desarmado deitado em uma cadeira de praia no meio do paraíso, n?o é?”
Now, you wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man lying on a beach chair in the middle of paradise. Would you?
Hearing his voice brought several emotions swirling close to the surface. Although my first instinct was to shoot him, I knew doing so would be difficult to explain. Besides, I would hate to permanently injure such an incredible body.
A vibe of electricity seared every inch of my skin, which I tried everything to shove aside.
“Duvido que você esteja desarmado. Embora, pelo que ouvi dizer, suas m?os sejam armas letais.”
I doubt you’re unarmed. Although from what I’ve heard, your hands are lethal weapons.
His laugh was throaty, the deep timbre sending shivers dancing down my spine, electrifying to the point my toes curled.
“Minha reputac?o me precede.”
My reputation precedes me.
My turn to make a sound, only I sighed in response.
“I didn’t know you spoke Portuguese.” How in the hell had the man found me?
I’d been extremely careful, as I was with all aspects of my personal life.
My father had taught me the importance of keeping my financial business separate from everyone, including whatever man I fell in love with.
Which seemed like a pipedream at this point.
My emotions were all over the place.
Including excitement.
Unacceptable.
“Apparently there are several aspects about my life you don’t know about,” he said casually, as if locating me in a country I’d never been to before was no big deal.
When he took the wine from my hand, our fingers touched and I was shocked by the jolt of current sweeping through my system. I’d be damned if the bastard didn’t tease me by brushing his finger back and forth. What was he doing, trying to drive me crazy?
Finally, I lifted my head, yanking off my sunglasses and allowing him to take the wine. I pulled my hand away from the weapon, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t shoot him between the eyes later if he didn’t vacate the country.
“What are you doing here, Donatello?”
He took a sip of wine and even behind the dark sunglasses he was wearing, I could tell his eyes were filled with amusement. The bastard didn’t answer right away and given I was furious with him, I raked my gaze down his chest to the swim trunks he had on.
Was the man trying to draw attention? First, you could tell he was from the United States because he was wearing board shorts. Second, the damn things matched his open shirt, in a festive yet garish tropical design.
Even so, he was far too handsome, my pussy throbbing instantly.
With the sunlight cast across his body, I vaguely noticed a partial tattoo near his knee. Since I’d never seen him in shorts, I was more than curious. I’d be damned if I didn’t almost ask him to show me the rest.
I knew enough about the man that if I did, he would definitely show me every inch, even if that meant exposing himself.
At the same time when I shifted in the chair, a series of ghost sensations crisscrossed my bottom where he’d spanked me. The round of discipline hadn’t been brutal enough for the pain to be real, but I had a sense he was thinking about that very moment right now.
Maybe it was because he wore an evil smirk that I longed to wipe off.
“Well,” he said while looking over at me. “It would seem when a Prince family member runs away without telling anyone where she is going, a sudden crisis is created in the kingdom. They sent me to find you.”
How in the hell had he managed to do so? I was both angry and impressed.
“I’m an adult and can take a vacation any time I want.” In making the blanket statement, it was as if he was going to get up and fly out on the next plane. I knew better. The man was a tenacious bulldog with a penchant for danger and a love of beating people who didn’t cooperate.
His behavior inside the club had been the last straw.
However, his dominant actions had also provided me with fodder for my fantasies.
“Is that what you’re doing, Emmeline? Is this merely an unplanned vacation?
A quiet few days on a festive beach? Or did you prepare your escape months if not years ago, squirreling money away, selecting safe alternatives that would last possibly months at a time?
How about the weapons you’re carrying? I’m impressed you were able to use the commercial airlines without being flagged.
But then again, I guess when you’re Interpol hunting a serial killer, anything is possible. Right?”
I resisted opening my mouth in shock. Thankfully, with the cute waiter’s return, asking my unwanted guest what he’d like to drink, I had the opportunity to rein in my anger and recover from the surprise.
With the task completed, I’d be damned if Donatello didn’t strip off the garish shirt, providing me with a far too delicious view of his naked torso. And holy mother of God, the man was built. After all the years I’d known him, you’d think I’d caught him with at least his shirt off.
Not once.
Not even when he’d been invited to one of the family barbeques. While not held often and mostly when I was much younger, they always involved a pool. No matter the temperature outside, Donatello had remained on duty. The most he’d done was remove his jacket and loosen his tie.
When I’d teased him once upon a time, he’d told me he was a consummate professional. Right then and there, I’d longed to rip off the tailored shirt, exposing the goodies underneath.
Now he was using his sculpted physique to torment me. Punishment for skipping town.
“I never knew you had a dramatic streak in you, Donatello. You should try writing thriller novels. And that’s Ms. Prince to you. From where I’m sitting, it seems you’re working for my brother.” When he dared reach for my wine again, I snagged it away, holding it close.