Second Chances (4 page)

“It’s fine, and you’re trying to change the
subject.”

“I am, but I really do want to know if
everything is okay with you. Are you still happy there?”

Jewel shrugged. “I wish I had other skills so I
could earn more money, but it’ll do for now.”

She didn’t want Jewel to get discouraged and
had always checked to make sure she was still attending her Narcotics Anonymous
meetings. She’d been happy when they finally found one that offered the
meetings in English.  

“Hang in there. It takes time. You have to
crawl before you can walk.”

Sabrina picked up her purse and checked for
cash. At the same time, she tried to remember the details of that night, but as
always, her brain hit a brick wall. She couldn’t remember anything after her
second mixed drink. She didn’t drink much except for wine, and granted, the
drinks were strong, but to get so sloppy drunk she couldn’t remember the rest
of the night was unheard of for her. She’d been so scarred by the whole
experience she hadn’t touched another alcoholic beverage since.

Normally, she and Jewel went out to dinner or
did something else together when Renaldo left town, but that night Jewel had
wanted to go dancing at a club. At first Sabrina had said no, worried about
having Jewel enter that type of environment because of her addiction, but she’d
given in after Jewel reminded her she had been sober for over a year.

Mateo had been one of the many men who
approached them. Sabrina initially thought his interest was in Jewel, so how
they’d ended up back at her home, she didn’t know. But the following morning,
she’d woken up in bed naked and groggy and with a pounding headache. Next to
her on the bed was a note.

I had a great time last night. I’ll be in
touch. Mateo

She’d checked her cell phone and found numerous
missed calls from Jewel and a voice message from her cousin demanding to know
where she was and if she was okay. And even though her brain hadn’t been able
to accept the meaning of the note, it all became clear when the first set of
photos arrived in an envelope with no return address.  

That’s when the nightmare had begun.

She’d never told Jewel or shown her the photos.
She’d shredded them, and soon afterward a demand for money came. It was a large
sum, and she’d paid it, desperate not to lose Renaldo and everything she’d
worked so hard to achieve. The second time was the same—the photos showed up
and the demand for money came after.

The third set had arrived late the day before
Renaldo came back from his overseas trip. She’d quickly hidden them in the desk
when Vera, the housekeeper, entered to clean up. She’d left them there overnight.
Sick to her stomach and knowing that another request for money would follow,
she wondered how she would ever get out of the mess she was in. She worked late
the following day, and since she hadn’t shredded the photos like she normally
did, she planned to do it as soon as she arrived home. But he’d found them
first.

It killed her to think she’d caused him pain.
How it must have hurt for him to see her in an embrace with Mateo in their bed.
To have seen her lying side by side with him, one breast exposed, her eyes
closed, and her head resting on his shoulder while he looked into a camera held
in his outstretched hand.

Strangely, she hadn’t received a request for
money after the third arrival. Not that she planned to pay it now that Renaldo
knew. There was no point. She’d paid because she’d been afraid to lose
everything, but she’d lost anyway.

Renaldo had made it clear he wanted her to exit
the marriage with nothing more than she’d brought into it, but during their
recent conversation he hinted that could change. If he offered her a
settlement, she would take it, but a little part of her dared to hope that
maybe there was more to this meeting.

Maybe the time apart had caused him to think
and soften his stance toward her. Now that she finally had a chance to speak to
him in person, she could plead her case and convince him to change his mind
about the divorce. It was worth a shot. He’d loved her once. Was it too much to
hope that he could love her again?

Chapter Three

Renaldo sat at a small, round table near
the back of a café he frequented, popular to the select few who knew of its
existence in the historic part of downtown. The lunch crowd had already
dispersed. Only about a third of the tables around him were occupied. He’d
chosen this spot for two reasons. One, because they had some of the best coffee
he’d ever tasted, and two, if he’d met Sabrina in private, he was afraid his
hands would somehow find their way around her beautiful neck.

From his position next to a window, he
had a good view of the street. He held his breath the minute he saw Sabrina
descend from a taxi. She looked amazing. Vibrant, as if she hadn’t suffered at
all since they’d been apart. She wore a fitted, short-sleeved maroon dress that
hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her womanly curves and reminding
him of how she used to feel in his arms.  

He loved her in red tones—maroon,
burgundy, rose. They underscored the color of her skin—barely darker than
his—in a flattering way. Had she worn that dress on purpose to influence him? The
short hemline gave him an eyeful of long, honey-colored legs that looked
stunning in a pair of heels the same color as her dress.

Her hair had grown since she’d moved to
Brazil, now below her shoulders in a display of neatly arranged spiral curls.
The highlights in her chestnut hair shone like burnished copper under the sun’s
rays as she left the sidewalk and made her way inside the café. She turned
heads as her tall body glided forward with a level of confidence that reminded
him of the first time he’d set eyes on her in the bar in Chicago. She’d been
striking then, and she was striking now.

Despite what she’d done, he couldn’t
take his eyes off of her, tracking her movements like a starving man who had a
mouth-watering tender cut of grilled steak dangled in front of him. Being
without her had been difficult, because the disgusting part of this whole
ordeal was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He still wanted her, ached
for her. He could feel the tension taking control of his muscles.

He’d like to think the more time they
spent apart, the easier it would be to forget her and the hold she had on him,
but that hadn’t happened. His craving for her had never faded. He needed to
maintain control where she was concerned, but it was impossible because her
presence always evoked strong emotions in him.

He couldn’t evade the traitorous thought
of her sensuous curves stretched out in their bed, or the resulting raw heat of
desire that pulsated through his body. He could see her now, taking him deeper,
matching him stroke for stroke.

His weakness for her was reprehensible. He
reminded himself he’d had to replace their bed because she’d defiled it by
inviting another man into it. It had been the first thing to go after he’d
tossed her out that night. But look at her. She still had the power to stir
him, regardless of what she’d done. He hated that. Hated remembering how good it
had been.

Had it been like that for
them
?

The host led her to his table. He stood,
the habit long ingrained. “Sabrina.”

“Renny.” Her light brown eyes were
curious, yet guarded when they met his black ones.

 “I prefer Renaldo,” he said, pulling
out her chair. She winced, and he knew the message had been driven home.

Hearing her use the nickname she’d given
him made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he wanted to make
it clear that they were no longer on such intimate terms. She’d been the only
person he’d ever allowed to shorten his name. Not even his own sisters referred
to him by anything other than his given name.

“If that’s what you want,” she said softly
as she sat.

The familiar scent of her favorite
perfume—pink lilies—taunted him, and he took a silent, steadying breath. He
gripped the chair rather than doing what he wanted to, his fingers itching to
sink into her thick, lustrous hair so he could claim her delicious mouth.
Amazing how, even now, just the smell of her could set his teeth on edge and
his blood burning.

With a quick readjustment to his brain,
he pushed the chair in and took his own seat across from her. The waiter
appeared, and while they discussed Sabrina’s order, he watched the way she
smiled at the other man. Her lips, naturally a deep coral color, were covered
in a shimmering red lipstick, which brought attention to their fullness.

Lips he’d tasted. Lips that had—

His groin ached as he remembered the
feel of those lips around his erection—pulling, sucking, giving him unspeakable
pleasure. Had she done the same with her lover? Had she sucked
him
dry
and licked her lips as if she’d never before had such a tasty treat?

Renaldo gritted his teeth and let his
eyes rove over the well-dressed diners sipping coffees, unaware of the thoughts
that ravaged his memories and had tormented him since the day he’d seen those
photos. His beautiful wife giving what should be his alone to another man.

He came back to the present when the
waiter walked away from the table.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me.” Renaldo
was amazed he could sound so normal when he really wanted to rail against her.

“I didn’t feel as if I had a choice. You
didn’t divulge much over the phone.”

“I thought it would be better if we
spoke in person.” The best way to deal with Sabrina was the direct approach. They
were alike in that respect. Neither of them liked to beat around the bush. “I
have a proposition for you. As you know, we’re still in the probation period
for Estação Central, but you and I are on our way to a divorce because of
your…extramarital activities.” Her only response was the movement along her
delicate throat. He watched it for a moment, entranced, before the memory of
his tongue tasting that sweet skin threatened to overwhelm him. “We both know
how important this real estate project is for Mayor Salazar. He wants to leave
a mark on the city, the same way Mayor Kassab did when he created the Clean
City Law.”

The law had banned all outdoor
advertising. Although the law had been controversial during its inception, Sao
Paulo—and as a result, Mayor Kassab—had become a model for other large cities
around the world to emulate. Mayor Salazar wanted a similar legacy before he
left office.

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Your experience and education were
included in the proposal, like everyone else listed as key personnel at SDG. If
Mayor Salazar finds out you’re no longer with the company, it could potentially
void our proposal.”

“So…are you saying you want me to come
back to work?” There was a hopeful lilt in her voice.

“Not exactly,” he answered, noting how
the light dulled in her eyes at his words.

“Then what is it that you want?”

What he wanted was an honest wife. But
that seemed to be too much to ask.

He presented the letter from the mayor,
and while she read it, he explained. “I think we should call a halt to the
divorce proceedings—at least temporarily.”

She lifted her gaze, and he was struck
by the fact that she had the most amazing eyes. Almost the color of amber with flecks
of darker brown. They reminded him of a tiger-eye gemstone. When she was
aroused, the darker brown dominated.

His body pulsed at the thought, and it
took monumental effort to refocus his mind to the business at hand. “I’d also
like you to come back to the office a few times over the next few weeks and
show your face—purely as a figurehead, of course—and do the interview and attend
the dinner with me. Once the probation period is over, we’ll continue with the
divorce and go our separate ways.” He watched closely for her reaction.

Sabrina frowned. “You want me to pretend
we’re still together and everything is fine?”

“Pretending shouldn’t be a problem for
you,” he said smoothly. “You’ve done an excellent job so far.”

She took a deep breath. “What is it that
you’re offering me?”

“Why am I not surprised you asked me
that?”

Sabrina’s cheeks colored.

“I’ll give you two million US dollars.”

The waiter arrived and set the coffee in
front of Sabrina who waited until he left to say, “No. Renaldo, I don’t want two
million dollars. What I want—”

“Not enough?” Renaldo felt his
temperature rise several degrees. He’d purposely low-balled her and was
prepared to go higher, but he did have a ceiling. “Three million.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and he
could see the wheels turning as she made calculations in her head. “That’s a
lot of money.”

Yet she didn’t look appreciative. She
looked almost…disappointed. There was only one reason for that type of look.
Greed. Pure and simple. She’d expected more because she knew how much the
project was worth and the financial health of the company—maybe better than he
did—down to the last
centavo
.