The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child by Anne Mather Page B

she’d fought hard to forget. He hadn’t cared what happened to her three years ago, she reminded herself. He’d left for Rio, and she’d neither seen nor heard from him since.
    Taking another breath, she said stiffly, ‘I came here to do a job, that’s all. My uncle was delighted when Senhora Silveira’s agent contacted him and offered the magazine this interview. He—Apparently he’d interviewed her many years ago, when her first book was published.’
    ‘So why is he not here?’
    ‘Because—’ The dawning explanation stunned her. ‘Because Senhora Silveira has supposedly read some ofmy work. Oh God!’ Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘You arranged this, didn’t you?’
    Alejandro’s mocking gaze neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he said, ‘Did it never occur to either of you to question Anita’s decision? She’s a very private person, as your uncle certainly knows. And why, out of all the quality publications in the world, should she choose your uncle’s magazine in which to break her silence?’
    Isobel swallowed, trying to come to terms with what he was saying. ‘Um, Sam thought she must have liked the piece he did about her before,’ she said flatly.
    ‘Que nada!’ Alejandro’s harsh exclamation revealed his contempt. ‘I doubt if Anita even remembers what your uncle wrote about her.’ He shook his head. ‘No man in his position should be that naive!’
    ‘He’s not naive.’ Isobel was indignant. ‘Too honest, perhaps,’ she added. ‘Something I doubt you know anything about.’
    ‘And why is that?’
    Alejandro’s fingers tightened round her arm, and she had to steel herself not to show any reaction. Did he know he was hurting her? Somehow she doubted it.
    ‘You set up a totally bogus assignment and then ask me to explain?’ Isobel chose her words carefully. ‘I don’t know what all this is about, but I shall make arrangements to return to London today.’
    ‘Nao.’
    Alejandro’s response was very definite and her nerves tingled apprehensively. He was such a big man, strong and powerful. And, because of her unwilling awareness of him, he was a danger to her in so many ways.
    Despite his scar, and the injury that caused him to drag his leg at times, he was still an overwhelmingly attractive man. It wasn’t just his looks, though the muscles thatswelled beneath his black tee-shirt and the corded length of his legs in black cargo pants were impressive. It was the hard-edged masculinity he exuded as he spoke to her. He knew what he was doing, and he was on his home ground.
    Unknowingly, her eyes had strayed lower than she’d intended, and she unwittingly remembered the tight buttocks she’d once squeezed between her fingers.
    Not that she should be thinking of such things now, she chided herself fiercely, refusing to acknowledge the unmistakeable bulge between his legs. But some things couldn’t be forgotten, not when the reality was in front of her.
    Oh, God!
    He was waiting for her response, and she knew she had to keep her head here. He thought he held all the cards, but she had a few of her own.
    ‘I wonder what your wife—or your fiancée—would have thought if she’d known what you were doing while you were in London,’ she blurted defensively. ‘I doubt if you told her, or your mother-in-law, that you were sleeping with someone else.’
    ‘I did not have to.’ Alejandro’s face darkened. ‘But we are not talking about Miranda, querida . This is all about our daughter. The daughter I did not even know I had.’
    ‘How do you know she is your daughter?’
    The words were out before Isobel could prevent them, and for a moment she saw she’d stunned him too. His fingers relaxed, and, taking advantage of the moment, she tugged away from him. And then, picking up her heels, she ran crazily towards the villa.
    It was only as she was walking breathlessly across the formal gardens, where a lily-strewn reflecting pool lay between sprinkler-fresh lawns, that