The Ultimate Merger (2 page)

In one graceful movement, she
removed her blazer and then twisted on the stool to hang it over the back of
the chair, the motion causing the silk blouse to pull taut across her chest. He
was a breast man, and she had two nice-looking ones. Not big, but enough to
almost fill his hands. His jaw tightened at the thought as he swirled the
scotch in the glass. He hoped she was alone. If so, his situation might be
improving.  

He enjoyed burying his face in the
perfumed cleft of a woman’s cleavage. What would the cleft between her breasts
smell like? The thought stirred his loins awake.

As he watched her, Renaldo wondered,
too, about the color of her eyes. Were they brown or black? He soon received an
answer. She idly scanned the room and her gaze landed on him. White heat pooled
in his stomach, causing him to halt the swirling motion of his hand.

Light brown. Stunning.

****

Sabrina didn’t think she could have
experienced a greater shock if the force of a lightning bolt had coursed
through her body. For a moment she froze, bewitched by a pair of eyes as black as
midnight.

Unnerved, she dragged her eyes away,
but not before she registered the man’s other features: an aquiline nose, short-cut
hair the same color of his eyes, and swarthy skin which suggested he might be
Italian or Latin. His white shirt opened at the collar to reveal a strong
throat and a sprinkling of crisp, black hair.

Even though she’d looked away, she knew
he still watched. She could feel it.

“What can I get for you?” the
bartender asked with a friendly smile.

She ordered a glass of red wine.
When he walked away, she picked up the menu to check out the selection of
appetizers, disregarding the biting intensity of the feelings that had just
flowed through her. A few minutes later, she placed an order for stuffed
mushrooms and had a glass of wine in her hand.

Glancing around the bar, careful
not to look straight ahead again, she regretted telling Ernestine not to come. They
always had fun when they hung out together. Well, she’d have the next best
thing soon enough. She’d left Samuel a voice mail before she left work, so he
should be here soon.

Unable to resist, she let her eyes
drift back across the bar. A pretty brunette had joined the man, and he bent
his head to her as they talked. Sabrina stared down into the maroon liquid in
her glass. She was meeting Samuel, and she didn’t have dibs on the stranger,
but a feeling of disappointment stole over her.

Between the problems at work and
her overactive imagination about a complete stranger, she was on her way to
winning the award for Doom and Gloom. During moments like these, the doubts
started creeping in, and she needed a distraction from the empty void she
feared her life had become.

“Nice band,” she said to the
bartender as he set a newly replenished bowl of nuts nearby. “I don’t think
I’ve ever seen them play here before.”

“They’re new. This is only their second
night.” He walked away to take another patron’s order.

She drummed her fingers against the
top of the bar and did what she shouldn’t—compared her life to Ernestine’s. At forty,
Ernestine was fourteen years older than Sabrina, and she had a husband and a
family waiting for her. When she walked through the door, their eyes would
light up and they’d be happy to see her. Maybe her son and daughter would even
rush into her arms the minute she crossed the threshold.

Sabrina’s fingers slowed to a stop,
and she swallowed hard to shut out the painful memories of growing up on the
South Side of Chicago. The emotional scars kept her focused on the prize of
success, but there were times when she wanted…She lifted the glass to her lips
and took a sip of the fruity wine, shutting her eyes and welcoming the darkness
for several seconds.

She wanted to be welcomed home. She
wanted someone to miss her, need her. But the truth was, she feared taking the
leap. She didn’t want her plans derailed, and getting involved with a man who
didn’t understand her focus and drive could do that.

As a child, she’d managed to
survive when her mother would disappear for days at a time, leaving her and her
younger cousin in the apartment alone to fend for themselves. She knew what it was
like to live on nothing but stale bread and ketchup or whatever she could beg
for from the neighbors. Inconceivable to most people, but that was the world
she’d known, and she could never go back to it. 

The memories made her bust her butt
every single day to succeed in the male-dominated world of the career she’d
chosen—Plan A. She didn’t even have a Plan B because failure wasn’t an option.

Again she cast what she hoped was a
surreptitious glance over to the other side. He and the brunette were no longer
there.

Sabrina’s phone vibrated, and she retrieved
it from her purse. Samuel had texted her. Something had come up and he had to
cancel. She sighed heavily. She couldn’t win for losing today. What a great way
to coast into the weekend.

“Excuse me.” A low, accented, very
male voice spoke beside her. Sabrina looked up, and up into the dark depths of
a pair of eyes set in a face even more striking up close. A knot formed deep in
her belly. He held a drink in one hand. “My name is Renaldo da Silva. Do you
mind if I join you?”

Chapter Three

A quiver of awareness inched down
Sabrina’s spine.

Despite the half smile on his lips
and the casual way he’d tucked one hand into his trouser pocket, she knew
without a doubt that this man didn’t do casual. He was big, easily
six-foot-five, or very near it. Power emanated from him.

She motioned toward the empty
stool. “It’s all yours.”

He lowered himself beside her. “And
your name is…?” he prompted.

Here we go
. “This isn’t a good time, okay?”

“All I did was ask your name.”
Sabrina remained silent. “Don’t tell me I misread the signal I received from
across the bar.”

“I’m afraid you did. I never sent
you a signal.”

“So you expect me to believe you’re
not interested at all?”

She gave him a saccharine smile. “I
suppose you’re used to women throwing themselves at your feet. Is that it?”

“Yes, that’s normally how it
happens.”

He smiled, and her stomach clenched
in reaction. In addition to having a killer smile and being fine as hell, he
also had a sense of humor. The man was definitely dangerous.

Sabrina tried to relax, but she
remained acutely aware of him, which made it impossible to relax. She couldn’t
remember the last time she’d been this attracted to a man at the first
encounter—if ever.

He rested his forearm on the edge
of the bar and turned toward her, giving her his full attention. “You are from
Chicago?”

She tried to decipher where he
could be from by his accent. “Yes, I am. And you?”

“Brazil. I’m here on business. What
did you say your name was again?”

“Nice try. I didn’t.”

“I love a challenge. It’s a turn
on.”

Sabrina took a steadying breath. How
in the world could any woman fight against this type of persistence? “So that
means you’re not going to leave me alone to enjoy my glass of wine? By myself.”

“Yes, that’s what it means.”

Before responding, she hesitated,
pretending to consider whether or not she should answer. “Sabrina.”

“Was that so hard?”

He’d probably never had to work
this hard to get a woman’s name before. “No.” She pursed her lips and decided
to make conversation. “How long will you be here on business?”

“About three weeks.” His face
remained unreadable as he studied her. “This is my first visit to Chicago.”

“Oh. Well, you’ll enjoy it here.
There’s plenty to do and see.”

“So I’ve been told.” He waited a
heartbeat and then added, “Maybe you could show me around?” His forthrightness
didn’t surprise her. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man who beat around the
bush.

Sabrina laughed. “No, I don’t think
so.”

“Why not?”

She eyed him with suspicion lacing
her gaze. “You’d be better off with a tour company.”

“I’d rather have personalized
service.”

Her heart fluttered, but she
remained cool. “There are plenty of reputable companies offering sightseeing
tours,” she pointed out. “You can see the city by bus, or another popular type
of tour is the architectural river tour. It takes you down the Chicago River. Trust
me, you’ll be in good hands.”

His lids lowered so that his dark
eyes became half-hidden. “I’d rather be in your hands.”

Heat spread across her breasts, and
Sabrina could feel her nipples hardening beneath her lacy bra. She took a huge swallow
of wine. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” He laughed, the rich sound
bouncing between them and startling her stomach into a quiver that had her
taking a calming breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t know you from
Adam.”

His thick black brows came
together. “Adam? Who is this Adam?”

“It’s an expression.” She smiled. “It
basically means I don’t know you.”

“You have a lovely smile. I believe
this time it was real.” He leaned closer, and the enticing mélange of his
cologne—dark spices and a zesty citrus scent—drifted up into her nostrils.
“What would you like to know about me?”

He held her gaze and made her feel
like the only person in the entire establishment.

“Okay,” she said, pressing against
the back of the chair, adding a few inches of space between them to clear her
head. “For starters, what kind of business are you in?”

Before he could answer, the
bartender set her order on the bar with a small plate and silverware. She
signaled toward the dish, making Renaldo a silent offer. He shook his head.

“Real estate,” he replied. “Renovations
mostly, although I’d like to eventually expand into construction. For now, I
concentrate on purchasing commercial properties like hotels and office
buildings, gut them, modernize them, and then turn around and sell them for a
profit. I’m in Chicago trying to close on a hotel.” He lifted an eyebrow. “What
else?”

Sabrina cocked her head to one side.
“You really think all you have to do is give me a few facts about yourself and
then I’ll…what exactly?”

His eyes filled with amusement.
“Show me around your beautiful city. Nothing more.”

“And that’s all you want?”

He paused in the act of lifting the
crystal glass of amber spirit to his lips. When he answered, his voice had lowered
another octave. “It is too early in our acquaintance to tell you what I really
want.”

Chapter Four

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she
chose to throw caution to the wind. “And what is it that you really want?”

He didn’t hesitate. “You.”

His answer left her breathless. Their
gazes clashed. “I see you’re not shy about speaking your mind.”

“Would you expect anything less?” A
sexy smile hovered around his mouth.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Sabrina allowed her forefinger to
slide around the circumference of the rim of her glass. “What happened to the
brunette?”

“She wasn’t my type.”

“And I am?” Her fingertip halted
its movement. “What exactly is your type, may I ask?”

“I like women who are confident and
independent. You seem to be both.”

“Somehow I envisioned men from
Brazil as being more…I don’t know…traditional in their views.”

“I have to admit, I can be
old-fashioned in some ways. I never let a woman pay when we’re dating.”

Sabrina lifted a brow in surprise. “Never?”

“Never. It’s my responsibility. I
open doors, and when we’re walking down the street, I insist the woman I’m with
walks on the inside, away from the traffic.”

Sabrina laughed as she spooned two
mushrooms onto her plate. “You
are
old school. You don’t see that much
nowadays. But what you said doesn’t fit with your desire for an independent
woman.” In her experience, men always said they wanted an independent woman,
but when they found her, they couldn’t handle it.

“Actually, it does. You see, I grew
up in a traditional household. My father was the head of the house, and my
mother never worked. He took care of her, doted on her, and she wanted for
nothing.  When he passed away, she couldn’t even balance a check book. We lost
our business and struggled for several years.” Regret—or maybe sadness—entered
his eyes for a moment. “I wish they were both alive to see how well my sisters
and I are doing now.”

Sabrina nodded her head in
understanding. “I know the feeling,” she murmured.

She stared down at the maroon
liquid in her glass. She would do anything to have her mother back, to show her
how much she had achieved, despite the rough start to life. The pain and guilt
never seemed to go away. She never stopped wondering if she could have done
something different and saved her mother.