Postcards From Rio: Master of Her Innocence / To Play with Fire / A Taste of Desire

‘I must have been knocked out cold and when I came round I was lying on a bed and a beautiful woman, who I’ve just learned is your sister, was leaning over me.’ He grinned. ‘For a couple of minutes I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.’

‘I doubt you would be allowed in,’ Clare muttered, feeling a hot surge of jealousy because Diego thought Becky was beautiful.

‘Becky told me she had been kidnapped, but I didn’t make the connection between the two of you because I believed your story that you were a nun going to teach at a Sunday school.’ His expression hardened. ‘You don’t look at all like your sister.’

‘Which explains why Becky is one of the most photographed models in the world and I’m an accountant,’ she muttered.

Enzo halted outside a door and knocked. He looked nervous, and Clare’s heart jumped into her throat. ‘I wonder who Rigo is,’ she whispered.

‘His name is Rodrigo Hernandez and he heads the biggest drugs cartel in western Brazil, with smuggling routes across the borders into Colombia and Peru,’ Diego explained in a low voice. ‘He also operates a huge prostitution racket, has been linked to several high-profile kidnappings and has a reputation for extreme violence.’

‘Quiet,’ Enzo growled, before he opened the door. ‘Rigo will see you now.’

Clare was aware that her life and Becky’s depended on the outcome of her meeting with the dangerous man inside the room. She felt sick with fear and her feet seemed to be rooted to the floor so that she could not move. A hand grasped hers and she jerked her eyes to Diego’s.

‘All right?’ he asked softly. He squeezed her fingers when she nodded. ‘That’s my girl.’

As they walked into Rigo’s office, Clare gained an impression of walnut-panelled walls, a richly patterned carpet and heavy velvet curtains that were drawn across the windows and blocked out the daylight. The stark white light from a lamp illuminated the spirals of smoke that rose up from the tip of the cigar that the man sitting behind the desk held clamped between his lips.

Rodrigo Hernandez was dressed in a sober grey suit and tie and looked more like a well-to-do lawyer than a violent drugs lord who was one of the most wanted men in South America. But his black eyes were pitiless, Clare thought, and his cold smile sent a shiver through her.

‘Miss Marchant. I see you have brought a friend with you. Take a seat, both of you.’

‘Diego agreed to drive me to Torrente, but I didn’t tell him the real reason for my trip. He’s not involved in any of this and you should let him go.’

‘Should is not a word I am familiar with,’ Rigo said in a pleasant voice that was somehow utterly terrifying. Clare looked into the black holes of his eyes and sat down abruptly before her legs gave way.

‘I have the money you asked me to bring.’ She put the briefcase on the desk and, at a nod from Rigo, one of his henchmen opened it and took out a number of prayer books. ‘Oh.’ She had forgotten about the books and blushed at the reminder of how she had deliberately misled Diego into believing she was a nun. She avoided looking at him. ‘I meant to deliver them to the Sunday school.’ She picked up the book of Keats’s poems that she had put into the case for safekeeping and slid it on to her lap.

‘Five hundred thousand pounds,’ Rigo’s assistant confirmed when he finished counting the money.

‘Now you know that all the money is there, will you allow my sister to go free as...as was agreed?’ Clare’s voice faltered when Rigo stood up and walked around the desk. She held her breath as he touched her hair and wound a long auburn curl around his fingers.

‘Such a beautiful colour,’ he murmured. ‘I sense, Miss Marchant, that you have a fiery temperament to match your hair. Men will pay a lot of money to bed a woman with spirit and passion. Your sister is free to leave, but I have decided that you will stay here and work for me.’ He tightened his fingers on her shoulder and laughed when she could not repress a shudder. ‘I may even decide to keep you for my own pleasure.’

* * *

Diego clenched his hand until his knuckles whitened. Rage burned inside him, but he knew he could not slam his fist into the slimeball Rigo’s face and force him to take his hands off Clare. In order to protect her he must show no reaction. Act cool—that was what he had learned in prison. He couldn’t allow Rigo to know how much he wanted to grab Clare and keep her safe. His only chance of saving her from being forced into prostitution, or forced to become Rigo’s mistress, was to offer the drugs lord the thing he prized more than anything else. Money.

‘It’s my experience that spirited women are more trouble than they’re worth,’ he drawled. ‘Miss Marchant will be more valuable to you if you demand a ransom for her.’

Clare shot him a sideways look. ‘My father won’t be able to raise enough money to pay another ransom,’ she said in a fierce whisper. ‘I don’t think you’re helping, Diego. Let me handle this.’

She looked across the desk at Rigo. ‘I came to Brazil in good faith that you would allow me to pay for my sister’s freedom and it is only fair that you should let us both go.’

Diego groaned silently when Rigo frowned. He wished Clare would let him deal with the situation but he could not help but admire her bravery and determination to rescue her sister. Most women would have gone to pieces by now, but not Clare. Some of his anger at the way she had lied to him about her identity faded, and he begrudgingly acknowledged that he understood why she had dressed as a nun to protect her from the ruthless men who had kidnapped her sister.

Rigo ignored Clare and spoke to Diego. ‘Are you prepared to pay a ransom?’

‘I am.’

Clare flashed Diego a rueful smile. ‘It’s kind of you to offer, but I don’t suppose a gold prospector earns much money.’

‘That’s very funny.’ Rigo laughed. ‘I recognised you from the media’s fascination with your personal life, Mr Cazorra. You are one of the richest men in Brazil and I would do better to demand a ransom for your release.’

Diego shrugged. ‘I have no family who care about me, and I do not value my life enough to pay you a centavo. On the other hand, I will pay whatever you ask in return for releasing Miss Marchant. Name your price.’

The drugs lord gave him a calculating look. ‘The Estrela Rosa.’

Diego did not hesitate. Any life was worth more than a lump of carbon, which was all a diamond was really. He was struck by the startling thought that he would give Rigo every precious gem he’d ever found to secure Clare’s freedom. ‘All right,’ he said calmly, ‘we have a deal.’

Clare looked between the two men with a sense that she was going mad. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘The Estrela Rosa, the Rose Star, is the largest pink diamond ever to have been found in Brazil,’ Rigo told her, ‘estimated to be worth over a million dollars. It was discovered in the Old Betsy diamond mine by one of the mine’s owners, Diego Cazorra.’

Not for the first time, Clare wondered if she was dreaming and would wake up in a minute. She stared at Diego’s ripped jeans and the battered leather hat hiding his unkempt blond hair. Several days’ growth of stubble covered his jaw and he looked tough and sexy and dangerously disreputable. ‘You don’t look like you own a diamond worth a million dollars.’

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. ‘I’m overwhelmed by your flattery,’ he said sardonically. He looked back at Rigo. ‘Tell your bully boys who took my phone to return it and I’ll arrange for the diamond to be flown to Torrente. We’ll make the exchange on the airstrip once the girls are safely on board the plane.’

* * *

Time passed slowly when there was nothing to do but stare at a clock, Clare discovered. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask Diego, but she hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him since they had returned to the room where they and Becky were being held prisoners.

‘Have you paid the ransom? Can we leave now?’ Becky had asked urgently after Enzo had escorted them back to the room and locked them in.

‘We’ll be allowed to leave as soon as a few things have been sorted out,’ Clare had tried to reassure her sister. But she couldn’t have sounded convincing because Becky had burst into tears.

‘The kidnappers are going to kill us. I know they are. You shouldn’t have come to Brazil and risked your life for me,’ she’d sobbed hysterically. The strain of being held captive for a week was clearly getting to her.

‘Of course I came for you, and we will be freed soon. Diego has arranged for a plane to collect us.’ Clare tried to sound more confident than she felt. In truth, she did not understand what was happening. It seemed incredible that Diego owned a diamond mine and had done a deal to effectively buy her freedom from the traitorous double-crosser Rigo in exchange for a valuable pink diamond. It sounded like the plot of a thriller and she did not know who she could trust.

At least she was able to change out of the nun’s habit into a pair of khaki shorts and a cotton vest top that she’d brought in her rucksack. She felt cooler in the lightweight clothes, at least until Diego stared at her bare legs with a glint in his eyes that made her blush.

She looked at him sitting in an armchair opposite her, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his hat inevitably pulled down over his eyes so that she thought he was asleep. Her mind flew back to the previous night and she pictured his naked body positioned over hers, the firelight flickering over his powerful musculature. Heat swept through her as she remembered how his rock-hard erection had stretched her when he’d first entered her. The few seconds of pain had quickly dissolved and been replaced with mind-blowing pleasure.

If they made it out of Torrente alive, would she ever see him again? Her common sense told her it was unlikely. She did not even know who he really was—a tough gold prospector who read poetry, or a wealthy diamond tycoon.

She froze when she suddenly realised he was not asleep and was watching her with a glint in his eyes that told her he knew she had been fantasising about him making love to her.

‘Deus, Clare, I wish we were alone right now,’ he said softly.

She snapped her eyes from him and glanced at Becky, who was standing tensely by the window. Perhaps as a reaction to the danger they were in, Clare could recall clearly events from the past, and she pictured her sister lying in a hospital bed, attached to numerous tubes and wires. It was a miracle that Becky had survived the aggressive form of leukaemia she’d contracted as a child, and Clare was determined her sister’s life would not be cut short by a gang of despicable criminals.

Last night, a mixture of fear and exhaustion had played havoc with her emotions and led her to succumb to her desire for Diego. For a few blissful hours in his arms she had been distracted from the reason she had come to Brazil, but from now on she must focus on getting her sister to safety. ‘All I wish is that the kidnappers would release us so that my sister and I can go home to our parents,’ she said tautly.

Diego frowned. ‘One thing I don’t understand is why your family sent you to Brazil to pay the ransom money to the kidnappers. They must have realised the danger you would be in.’

‘My father couldn’t come because he is caring for my mother who is seriously ill, and I offered to rescue my sister. Dad must be frantic with worry about Becky.’

‘I’m sure your father is worried about both of you.’ Diego felt a flare of anger towards Clare’s parents for the way they had allowed her to feel less loved than her sister. He hoped the Marchants realised how incredibly courageous their older daughter was.

His phone rang and he had a brief conversation in Portuguese. ‘Your wish is about to be granted,’ he told Clare. ‘The plane that will take us to Manaus has landed at Torrente airport.’

* * *

It was not a proper airport, just a single runway at the edge of the town, surrounded by dense jungle. As the Jeep driven by Enzo pulled up next to a hangar, Clare saw a sleek private jet sitting on the runway with its engines running. She gripped Becky’s hand. ‘In a couple of minutes we will be on that plane and your ordeal will be over.’

Becky was white-faced and close to hysteria. ‘Something is going to go wrong; I know it is.’

Clare looked at Diego. ‘What are we waiting for? I thought the arrangement was for us to board the plane before you give the diamond to Rigo.’

‘Rigo got here before us,’ he said tensely. ‘He’s already on the jet. The pilot messaged me to say he’s been forced to hand over the diamond.’

‘Then we need to get on the jet and be ready to leave.’ Clare gave a startled cry when Diego caught hold of her arm and pulled her close to him.

‘I want you and Becky to get on to the plane that you can see at the far end of the runway.’

Clare stared in the direction he was pointing and frowned. ‘Does it even fly? It looks like a plane from the Second World War.’

‘It’s a Dakota transport plane which regularly brings supplies to Torrente from Manaus. The pilot is expecting us. Tell him to be ready to take off as soon as I get on board.’

‘But why can’t we leave on the jet?’

Over Clare’s shoulder, Diego watched Rigo walk across the runway and get into a car, leaving behind a group of armed men. They’re unlikely to be waiting to welcome the Marchant sisters on to the jet, he thought cynically. The situation was becoming more dangerous by the minute and there was no time to explain things to Clare. He looked into her wide blue eyes and saw her fear that she was trying to hide. For reasons he couldn’t explain he felt a peculiar tugging sensation in his heart. ‘You have to trust me,’ he said gruffly. He pushed her towards the Dakota. ‘Go. Now.’

* * *

You have to trust me.

Diego’s words replayed in Clare’s head as she peered through the plane’s window, hoping to catch sight of him in the deepening twilight. She could not think clearly above the roar of the Dakota’s engines and the sound of Becky crying. ‘We have to go, we have to go,’ her sister sobbed. ‘Please, Clare, tell the pilot to take off before the kidnappers come for us.’

‘We must wait for Diego. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’

Where was he? Clare’s heart leapt when she saw him by the hangar. But he wasn’t alone. Shock jolted through her when she recognised that the man Diego was talking to was one of the kidnappers who had been with Enzo when she had been taken from the cave in the rainforest. In disbelief she watched Diego and the kidnapper briefly hug each other before the two men started to run towards the plane.

Becky was still crying. ‘Please, Clare, let’s go now.’

Clare had a split second to make a decision. Should she tell the pilot to take off, which would ensure her sister’s safety? Or should she wait for Diego to board the plane with one of the kidnappers? She felt sick. Was Diego somehow involved with Rigo and his criminal gang?

With a flash of clarity she understood that he must have pretended to make a deal with the drugs lord to buy her freedom. Of course he wouldn’t have given away a diamond worth a million dollars to save her. She had been so stupid to have been blinded by his handsome face and laid-back, sexy charm.

‘Sit down and fasten your seat belt,’ she ordered Becky as she ran to the front of the plane and spoke to the pilot. ‘We’re ready to take off, right now.’

* * *

Back on the ground, Diego had breathed easier once he’d watched Clare and Becky board the Dakota. He was fairly certain none of Rigo’s men had seen them climb into the transport plane. With luck he would be able to join the girls without being seen and the plane would take off from the airstrip before the gang members realised that their quarry had escaped.

He’d guessed that Rigo had planned to have the three of them killed. The time he’d spent in prison had taught him how ruthless criminals’ minds worked, and Rigo was more ruthless than most. He hoped the gathering dusk would hide him as he stepped out from the doorway of the hangar, but a voice speaking in Portuguese stopped him.

‘Not so fast. Put your hands in the air.’

Slowly, Diego turned around and did a double take as he recognised a face from the past. ‘Miguel?’

‘Santa Mãe! Diego, is it really you?’ The other man lowered his gun. ‘The last time I saw you was in prison.’

‘Nearly twenty years ago.’ Diego pictured two teenage boys being escorted by prison guards to an overcrowded cell, hearing the taunts from the other prisoners, terrified of what would happen to them.

‘You saved my life,’ Miguel said hoarsely, ‘and had your ear cut off by the other prisoners as punishment for protecting me. I’ve never forgotten.’

Nor had Diego forgotten, despite trying to block out the memories of hell. Like him, Miguel had been on remand and awaiting trial to prove he was innocent of the crime he had been accused of. ‘Why are you working for a shit like Rigo?’

Miguel shook his head. ‘He threatened my family. But my parents are both dead now and I don’t care if Rigo kills me for helping you to escape. I owe you, my friend.’

‘Rigo isn’t going to kill either of us,’ Diego said grimly. ‘Come with me.’ He swore as he heard the roar of the Dakota’s engines. ‘Quickly! Our chance to escape is about to take off.’

* * *

Clare held her breath as the plane lifted off the runway. Becky was still crying, and she gripped her sister’s hand. ‘It’s all over, Becky. You’re safe and we’re going home.’

But what about Diego? her conscience asked. She had rescued Becky, but what if she had been wrong to think Diego was involved with Rigo? She had seen him talking to one of the kidnappers, she reminded herself. She’d made the right choice to leave him behind, hadn’t she?

‘Deus, Clare, why didn’t you wait for me?’

She gasped, wondering if she had imagined Diego’s voice. But as she jumped up from her seat and looked towards the back of the plane, she saw him emerge from the cargo hold, followed by the man she’d seen him talking to on the ground who she knew was a member of Rigo’s gang.

Clare’s immediate instinct was to protect Becky and she stood in front of her and glared at Diego. ‘Keep away from my sister. I know you work for Rigo. And this man—’ she indicated the man who had boarded the plane with Diego ‘—is one of the kidnappers who met me at the cave.’

Diego shook his head. ‘Clare, it’s all right. Miguel is my friend from many years ago.’ He put his hand on her arm and swore when she hit him. He saw genuine fear in her eyes and it hurt him more than it should to realise she was afraid of him.

‘You crazy little wildcat,’ he growled. ‘I kept you safe on the journey to Torrente and spent two days up to my neck in mud. You let me believe you were a nun and made me feel guilty for wanting you. You’ve cost me a rare diamond worth a fortune. And, worst of all, I haven’t drunk a single beer since I had the dubious pleasure of meeting you. But, even after all of that, you still don’t trust me.’

He threw off his hat and seized her in his arms, holding her wrists behind her back so that she could not fight him as he lowered his face to hers. ‘So I guess I have nothing to lose,’ he muttered against her lips before he captured her mouth in a punishing kiss that demanded her total subjugation, demanded her soul—and laid claim to her heart.

Clare’s common sense told her not to respond to the kiss, but she was outvoted by her body that capitulated with shameful willingness to Diego’s mastery. She melted into him, seduced by the hardness of his muscles and sinews and the strength of his whipcord body pressed against hers. He was so much taller than her and, with a muttered oath, he lifted her off her feet to bring her mouth level with his and tangled his hand in her hair to prevent her from trying to escape.

But Clare was burning up in the wildfire heat of Diego’s hunger. His mouth was utterly addictive and she wrapped her arms around his neck to allow him to increase the pressure of his lips sliding over hers as he deepened the kiss and coaxed her tongue into an intimate dance.

Reality faded. After everything that had happened in the past few days, Clare no longer knew what reality was. But Diego felt real and solid and nothing else seemed to matter except that he brought her senses alive and made her want to leave behind her safe, sensible life and take a leap into the unknown.

When he tore his mouth from hers and set her back on her feet she stared at him dazedly, slowly becoming aware once more of the rumble of the plane’s engines and the realisation that Diego looked furious.

He pushed her down into a seat and leaned over her. ‘I swear you would test the patience of a saint. If I hear another word from you for the rest of the flight I’ll show you just how unsaintly you make me feel, anjinho.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘CLARE, WAKE UP. The helicopter has come for you.’

‘What...helicopter?’ Struggling to surface through a haze of sleep, Clare forced her eyes open and looked groggily at her sister sitting next to her. She remembered they were on the plane, but the Dakota’s engines were silent. ‘When did we land? We’re at Manaus Airport, I suppose.’ Memories of their narrow escape from the kidnappers reminded her that her rescue mission would not be completed until her sister was safely back home. ‘I doubt there are direct flights from here to London so we’ll have to catch a connecting flight to Rio before we can fly to England.’

‘Calm down. We’re in Rio,’ Becky told her. ‘We flew through the night from Torrente and landed a few hours ago. It’s morning now. You’ve slept for twelve hours, but Diego didn’t want to disturb you.’

Fat chance, Clare thought sardonically. She found his brand of raw sexual magnetism deeply disturbing. ‘Where is Diego, anyway?’ She glanced around the empty plane.

‘He had to go to his office. Before he left, he arranged for me to fly first class to London. My flight leaves soon, which is why I decided to wake you to say goodbye.’

Clare noted that her sister looked remarkably well after her kidnap ordeal. They had both shed tears of relief as the Dakota had flown away from Torrente and the realisation had sunk in that the danger was over. Becky had kept saying how brave Clare had been, but her praise had increased Clare’s sense of guilt that she would never have made it to Torrente without Diego and she should have trusted him when he had done so much to protect her.

‘Surely Diego has booked us both on to the flight to England?’ She remembered his anger when she had accused him of being a member of Rigo’s criminal gang. ‘Or does he expect me to sit in the luggage hold?’

Becky laughed. ‘You must have been in a deep sleep if you don’t remember that you’ll be staying in Brazil to work for the Cazorra Corporation. Diego told me you are going to run a PR campaign for an associate company he is opening in Rio under the brand name of Delgado Diamonds, which his business partner launched so successfully in Europe.’

‘Just a minute...’ Clare tried to make sense of her sister’s words but Becky carried on talking.

‘I told Dad about your plans when I phoned home to let him know we’re both safe and he’s excited that it will be a fantastic opportunity for A-Star PR. Running an advertising campaign for a huge international company like the Cazorra Corporation will really open doors for the A-Star agency. And it’s all down to you, Clare.’ Becky gave Clare a hug. ‘Dad thinks you’re amazing, and so do I. You saved my life and I’m so pleased you’re being rewarded with the chance to further your career, as well as spend time with Diego.’

‘I’m not...’

‘It’s all right; you don’t have to tell me anything.’ Becky misunderstood Clare’s attempt to interrupt. ‘It was clear from the way Diego kissed you last night that there’s something going on between you personally as well as professionally. Just be careful. Diego Cazorra has heartbreaker stamped all over him.’

‘Becky! Will you listen to me?’ Clare’s frustration bubbled over. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m flying back to England with you.’ She searched through her rucksack and in exasperation tipped its contents on to her lap. ‘I know my passport was in here.’