Heartbreak in Rio Page 5

  They both came from large families. While she was the youngest of six, he was the oldest of five. Two of his siblings lived in Rio, one in Bahia and the other in Argentina, each of them involved in some aspect of the Moda retail empire.

  Rodrigo opened the door to the apartment using the same keycard, and her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she entered ahead of him.

  “What do you think?” he asked, setting her luggage on the floor.

  She looked around. “It’s not what I expected.”

  She’d expected a bachelor pad, but instead she’d arrived at a dwelling that was more like a home. All the usual types of electronics and gadgets were in place, such as the expensive stereo system and television mounted on the wall. But it was the furniture that didn’t conform to her expectations. She thought for sure he would have decorated in a minimalist style, but instead the apartment contained traditional furnishings. Heavy pieces covered in bold, solid colors filled the living room. The large windows with fine drapes probably allowed plenty of sunlight to come in during the day. Photos of his family neatly lined the walls in ornately designed gold frames.

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.

  “A good thing,” she replied.

  Sidney followed Rodrigo down the hall where more photos lined the walls. Most depicted children whom she assumed were his nieces and nephews. They were playing on the beach or piled on top of each other in grass. One in particular of a gorgeous little girl with a toothless grin holding her tooth between two fingers like a prize caught her eye.

  The gourmet kitchen was more in line with what she’d expected. He’d obviously spared no expense, including Italian glass on the cabinet doors and restaurant grade appliances. It was sleek and modern with a six-burner range that included a grill and a microwave and second oven built into the wall. Food simmered on the stove and covered dishes filled the air with a pleasant aroma.

  “This is a lot of food. Are you expecting more people?” She lifted covers on pots and peeked under covered platters. All the delicious-looking food caused an uptick in her appetite. “You did all this?”

  He stood back, watching her. “I had some help. My chef prepared the meal and left everything warming for us. Not that I couldn’t do it myself, of course.”

  “Oh, of course. I never doubted that for a minute.”

  They smiled at each other, a secret one of remembered times passed, such as when he’d fixed a traditional meal of moqueca de peixe, a delicious fish stew made with coconut milk.

  “Boa noite.” The greeting came from a man who’d just entered the kitchen. Even before the introduction, Sidney knew who he was.

  “This is my father, Gualtiero Serrano, who was supposed to be gone already. Father, this is Sidney Altman.”

  Seemingly unperturbed by his son’s not-so-subtle dismissal, Gualtiero came over and greeted her with two kisses on the cheek. An older version of Rodrigo, he had thick dirty-blond hair but the same dark eyes. He was a very good-looking man with few wrinkles, and she suspected he must have been quite the Casanova in his day.

  “I left my phone and had to come back for it.” He held it up, but Sidney could tell it had been an excuse to check her out. “So you are Sidney Altman.”

  “Father.”

  Gualtiero brushed aside Rodrigo’s warning tone with a wave of his hand. “I only wish to say welcome to my country. How long will you be here?”

  Sidney laced her fingers together in front of her. “Only a couple more days.”

  “Why do you go back after only a short time?”

  “I’m here on business and can only afford to take a couple of days off before I head back home.”

  “Perhaps you should stay for pleasure.”

  Her eyes sought out Rodrigo. She didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Father, you’re embarrassing her.”

  “It is only a suggestion. Maybe you will find a reason to stay.” He leaned closer. “My son is in need of a wife, and I am in need of more grandchildren,” he said in a stage whisper.

  “Father—”

  Rodrigo was surprised by his father’s comment. For years he’d made no secret of the fact that he wanted Rodrigo to marry someone from Brazil who understood the culture. But as he watched his father with Sidney, he wondered if something else was amiss. His father was a romantic, and clearly he’d softened his stance on the idea of who would make an acceptable bride for his eldest son.

  The older man chuckled. He continued to speak to Sidney as if they were the only ones in the kitchen. “Ignore me. I go now, but I hope to see you again very soon. Enjoy your dinner. Bom apetite.” He took her hand and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek.

  “Goodbye, Father,” Rodrigo said dryly. His father patted him on the shoulder on the way out. “I’m sorry about that. He has no shame, as you can tell.”

  Sidney smiled. “It’s okay.”

  He walked over to the wine refrigerator. “Wine?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Do you have a preference?”

  “Whatever you decide is fine.”

  He poured them both a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. “I’m glad you decided to come.

  She looked at him with a faraway expression in her eyes. “I don’t think either of us had a choice in the matter, do you?”

  Sadness filled her eyes, taking him by surprise. He felt a moment of guilt. Did she feel coerced into coming here? He wanted her here only if she wanted to be.

  Then she smiled and he wondered if he’d imagined that look. He set aside the doubts and lifted his glass. “To…the future,” he said.

  She hesitated but then followed suit. “To the future.”

  Chapter 8

  Rodrigo couldn’t take his eyes off Sidney, watching her here in his home. Her presence felt right, the way he knew it would. They set the table together and placed the entrées on it, and Rodrigo helped her into her chair before sitting across from her.

  “You look leaner,” he commented out of the blue. “You have more muscle.”

  She appeared pleased that he’d noticed. “That’s because I’ve been working out.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re on a diet.”

  Rodrigo refilled her glass as a smile fanned across her lips. She always smiled with her eyes, and under this lighting, her brown eyes sparkled. Her lush mouth, one of his favorite parts of her anatomy, was covered in a glossy shade of red.

  “No, I’m not on a diet. I exercise more now, but you know I’m a picky eater,” she reminded him.

  “You can’t go wrong with any of these dishes, and I know you have a hearty appetite when you enjoy your food.” At her stricken look, he hastily added, “That is a compliment. Food is meant to be enjoyed, after all.”

  “So we’re back to that again.”

  “What?” he asked, feigning innocence but knowing full well to what she was referring.

  “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I apologize for finishing your pasta primavera, okay? But I didn’t want it to go to waste.” She shrugged.

  One night in New York she’d taken him to a restaurant in Little Italy where they’d ordered a mountain of food that included appetizers and plenty of fresh garlic bread. It had been so refreshing to find a woman who enjoyed a good meal as much as he did.

  “I could have taken it in a dog bag.” He removed the lid from the container in the center of the table.

  She giggled. “It’s doggie bag, and we were going to the theater afterward. We couldn’t have taken it with us. I did you a favor by not allowing the food to go to waste.” She looked up at him through her lashes, and his heart stopped. Time stood still for a moment. But the moment passed when she bowed her head to straighten the napkin across her lap, a smile still floating at the corners of her lips. “And I was hungry. Very hungry,” she added.

  With his elbows on the table, he rested his chin on his interlocked fingers. “Being with you in New York was the best time I have ever ha
d visiting your city.”

  Her eyes met his across the table, and he saw sadness there again, just as before. He wanted to find out more about what that expression meant and where it came from, but he sensed now wasn’t the time to pry.

  “You made sure that I received the full New York experience,” he said, “so I will do the same for you.”

  “Oh, really? What do you have in mind?”

  He didn’t answer but began to spoon soup into a bowl. “This is caldo verde,” he explained. “It’s a popular soup from Portugal. It contains collard greens, potatoes and sausage.”

  “Did you hear my question?”

  She looked adorable sitting there, a fine wrinkle on her brow, demanding an answer. He decided to torture her a little bit longer. “I will explain everything later. For now, eat. Bom apetite.”

  By the end of the meal, Sidney was almost certain she’d died and gone to heaven. The rest of the dishes consisted of food equally delicious to the soup, including a steak grilled to perfection and covered in a secret rub. She tried to pry the recipe out of Rodrigo, but to no avail. Everything placed in front of her was shamelessly devoured.

  Across the table, he smiled at her but said nothing.

  “Go ahead, talk about my appetite,” she said, dabbing her mouth with the napkin.

  “No, you’re sensitive. I’ll leave you alone,” he said, but he didn’t stop smiling.

  By the time they made their way to the living room with glasses of wine, a sense of contentment filled her, making her wish her stay would be longer.

  “What do you have planned for tomorrow?” she asked.

  “I’m taking you on a tour of the city.”

  “You can take a whole day off like that?” She lowered to the sofa.

  He picked up a remote and soft music filled the room. “When you’re the boss, you can do whatever you like.”

  A woman’s voice, soft and soothing, came from the speakers.

  “Who is that?”

  “Elis Regina.” Rodrigo sat beside her.

  “She has a beautiful voice.”

  “She’s been dead a long time, but her voice is still considered one of the most beautiful in Brazilian music.”

  The sound of the guitar and the singer’s voice relaxed her.

  Rodrigo turned to her, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. “Do you have a man in your life?”

  She blinked. “Where did that come from?”

  He shrugged. “Just wondering. I want to make sure.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He didn’t respond. He calmly picked up his glass from the coffee table and took a sip of the wine.

  “Do you have a woman in your life?” Sidney held her breath.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Tell me what you have planned for tomorrow.”

  “Let me worry about that. Just be ready to have all day tomorrow and the day after occupied.”

  “And you’re sure no one will miss you at work?”

  “You want me all to yourself. Is that it?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  It was nice to flirt with him. Considering how their initial meeting had gone, the relaxed evening was just what she needed, what they needed. She was no longer tense and on guard. Spending time with him in his home had made all the difference.

  “I may have to take a few calls because this will be an unplanned leave, but you’ll have my undivided attention for most of the day.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Sidney said, although she was glad he was taking this time with her. At least when she returned home, she’d have new memories to hold on to.

  “I want to, and I want you to enjoy your time here.” He took her glass and set it next to his on the table. He held her hand in both of his. “Now it’s time for us to go to bed.” He rose with her hand in his and led her to the bedroom where he slowly undressed her, taking his time instead of the hasty manner in which they’d made love the day before.

  He spoke to her in his native tongue, the way he always did when they made love, the words flowing easily from his lips and adding to her heightened state of arousal. He pulled her onto the bed and rolled on top of her, taking little nips of her skin from her neck to her shoulders and down to her breasts. He took each nipple in turn, licking and sucking the dusky peaks. Moving restlessly on the bed, her fingers ran over the muscles of his back.

  She took his hand in hers and kissed the palm. She’d missed him so much.

  With a gentle push she forced him onto his back so she could sit astride his thighs. She kissed his forehead, nose and mouth, lingering there. The taste of him, the smell of him, almost seemed brand new. Their kisses were slow and leisurely, their unhurried movements similar to those of a couple who knew each other well.

  She nibbled on his neck as he cupped the back of her head, using sweeping motions to caress the length of her body. She touched his shoulders, caressed the bulging muscles of his arms and moved over the contours of his powerful chest. Going lower, she licked his nipples and the curve of his pecs.

  When she reached the thickness between his thighs, she licked the length of him before taking him into her mouth. His fingers tightened in her hair and he thrust upward. She sucked harder, pulling him deeper. He murmured indistinct words, his voice coaxing and encouraging, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he groaned and dragged her up onto her back.

  He pulled a condom from the nightstand, and soon their joined bodies moved in a slow, sensual dance together. In the quiet of the room only breathless pants and amorous kisses could be heard. Rodrigo rocked back and forth within her until her orgasm reached a crescendo that crashed over her.

  Later when she lay curled against the length of him, she listened to his even breathing as he slept. Filled with regret over her decision to let him go a year ago, she wondered if she could be honest now. Maybe she’d been too hasty in denying his proposal.

  Sadness coiled through her, a yearning for what had been lost after a brief taste of the ultimate happiness. If he wanted to rekindle their romance, if he still wanted to marry her, would she have the courage to tell him the whole truth?

  Chapter 9

  The next morning Sidney dragged out of bed into the bathroom. When Rodrigo returned from a run on the beach they took a shower together, leisurely rubbing soap all over one another’s bodies before they went back into the bedroom and fell across the bed for a quickie.

  Afterward, they strolled to a neighborhood bakery where they sat down to potent cups of espresso and freshly baked bread smothered with jam. The rest of the morning was spent walking around the streets of Leblon. Rodrigo took the time to explain the history of the neighborhood. He mentioned that years ago, because of its location and difficulty in accessing it, runaway slaves once used it as a hiding place. A streetcar line eventually connected it with Ipanema, and Leblon—now trendy and cosmopolitan—had grown at a faster pace.

  They visited several Brazilian designer stores and other retailers, something he did often to check out the competition. They ran into a few celebrities whom he knew and introduced her to, and eventually they stopped for lunch at his favorite botequim in the neighborhood. He ordered them beer made on-site and a number of dishes for her to sample. One was codfish balls and bolinho de aipim—manioc balls—stuffed with Catupiry cheese and shrimp. Her favorite phrase became mais uma, which meant “one more,” as they sampled the different food available.

  The city tour in the helicopter was perhaps her favorite part of how they spent the day. The aerial trip took them past the Christ the Redeemer statue standing thirty-eight meters tall atop Corcovado Mountain. They flew over the Atlantic, rays from the sparkling sun bouncing off the azure waves. The helicopter dipped to the right and they had a clear view of the palm trees and white shoreline stretching from Copacabana to the east side of town down to Recreio beach.

  Back on land, Rodrigo took Sidney to one of the more popular museums and waite
d patiently while she snapped photos. By the time they returned to Leblon, they were both winding down after the long day. They took bottles of coconut water on their afternoon walk on the beach and watched a group of older women practice tai chi while a few young people jogged along the shoreline. On the way back to the house, they stopped at a candy shop and Rodrigo bought her Pé de Moleque.

  “It’s similar to peanut brittle,” she said over a mouthful of the candy.

  “Yes, but this one is made with molasses and tastes better.”

  “Everything is better in Rio?” she teased.

  “Sim.”

  At a local market they picked up fresh vegetables to make a salad to accompany the leftovers from the night before and strolled hand in hand back to Rodrigo’s place. When they opened the door to his apartment, two sets of scampering feet came running toward the front.

  “Tio Drigo!” the children called. A young girl wrapped her arms around his waist and a boy who looked about half her age wrapped his arms around one leg.

  A woman came down the hall at a much slower pace.

  “Oh, you have company,” she said in English, doing a poor job of looking surprised.

  “Sidney, this is my sister, Branca.” Branca shared the same fair hair as their father.

  “I hope it’s okay that we’re here,” she said. She glanced at Sidney.

  “Of course,” Rodrigo responded.

  He introduced the children, too, and they smiled shyly as they greeted her. Sidney recognized the little girl as the one missing the front teeth in the photo on the wall in the hallway. She looked about eight years old now and had all her teeth.

  “I’ll put away the groceries,” Sidney said.

  She walked back to the kitchen, and while putting away the food, she heard giggling behind her. The kids were standing in the doorway.