The Ultimate Merger (2 page)

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?”

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.”

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.

****

They fell into an easy conversation. She
forgot all about her previous plans and spent the next forty
minutes listening to Renaldo talk mostly about his business and the
stress to close the deal he was working on. He was successful, but
not quite where he wanted to be. One of his goals was to expand
into the U.S. market. In between the business talk, they flirted
and bantered back and forth, and he educated her on the culture of
his country.

“I’m doing all the talking,” Renaldo said.
“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a financial analyst for a firm named
Global Investments. My focus is mergers and acquisitions.”

“Really? Maybe I can steal you away from your
firm. I could use a knowledgeable analyst on my team, and you’re
based here in Chicago, where I hope to begin my expansion into the
U.S.”

“If I didn’t think you were kidding, I’d take
you up on the offer,” Sabrina said dryly.

Renaldo frowned. “You’re not happy?”

“Let’s just say things could be better. I’m
out tonight to drown my sorrows in red wine and forget my problems
at work.” She pushed a lukewarm mushroom around on her plate with
the fork. “I sound bitter, don’t I?”