This couldn’t be happening.Xavier couldn’t be kissing her.But the part of Sylvia’s brain that was telling her to push away, push away now, was lost in the scorching fire of his embrace. As his lips moved against hers, mastering and guiding her, heat seared down her body like a hot jungle wind.Pleasure whipped through her, pleasure she’d felt only once in her life before. But this was even better than her memory. As they stood on the penthouse terrace, she grasped his open shirt, clinging for dear life. She felt the warmth of his body, the hardness of his muscled chest beneath his cotton tank top. His strong thighs in khaki shorts brushed like tree trunks against her legs. He towered over her, making her feel womanly and petite as he folded himself around her.The hot, hard feel of his lips seared hers, causing sparks to shoot down the length of her body. Her breasts felt suddenly heavy, her nipples taut. A fire of ache raced to her deepest core as tension coiled inside her. She fel

It's only an act. Only an act!But in spite of the constant repetition of those words, Sylvia’s heart still didn’t believe it as she looked up into Xavier’s dark eyes.‘Really,’ the other man drawled in accented English. His eyes traced over Sylvia. ‘She’s certainly beautiful. But this is all too convenient.’ He folded his arms over his belly. ‘You’ve fabricated this affair, so I’ll still sell you Açoazul.’Sylvia’s pulse hammered in her chest. Convinced that their plan had failed before it had half started, she pulled away from Xavier. But he held her tight in his powerful arms, even as he never looked away from the other man.‘Why would I do that?’ Xavier said coolly.The man looked at Adriana’s tall beauty, then back at Xavier with a scowl. ‘You know why.’‘You’d be a fool not to sell me Açoazul,’ Xavier said sharply. ‘No other competitor has offered you a fraction of the price. Théo St. Raphaël certainly won’t. Don’t lose a fortune based on some unfounded fear!’The older man stif

The Fantasia gala ball was the single most sought-after invitation of Rio de Janeiro’s Carnaval. Sylvia had read about it in celebrity gossip magazines in the United States. The glamorous event, held in a colonial palace on the Costa Verde south of Rio, attracted beautiful, rich and notorious guests from all around the world. And tonight, Sylvia would be one of them. Tonight, she would be Xavier Regulus’s beloved mistress. His pretend mistress, she corrected herself fiercely.The door of the black Rolls-Royce sedan opened, and she and Xavier stepped out onto the red carpet that led inside the palace, which had once been owned by the Brazilian royal family.Xavier looked brutally dashing in his black tuxedo. Sylvia felt his hungry gaze on her as he took her arm. She tried to ignore it, tried to smile for the benefit of the paparazzi flashing cameras around them, but her body shook beneath the palpable force of his desire.I want you, Sylvia. And I will have you.Liveried doormen in wig

By the time they arrived back in Rio two hours later, one thought kept repeating in Xavier’s mind. One thought over and over.‘Here,’ he said to her, covering her shoulders with his tuxedo jacket as they entered the lobby of his building. She threw him a grateful glance. Her red designer gown now hung askew on her body, the zipper broken from when he’d ripped the dress off her earlier.As they passed the security guards, Xavier glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. His white shirt was rumpled, the cuffs hanging open, his tie crumpled in the pocket of his trousers. Sylvia was looking at him breathlessly, her eyes luminescent, her makeup hopelessly smudged and her lips full and bruised.He saw the security guards nudge each other with a smirk, and he knew he and Sylvia had fooled no one. There could be no doubt what they had been doing.Normally he wouldn’t care if people knew he’d taken a woman as his lover. But this was different. This was Sylvia. And one thought kept going th

Two weeks later, Sylvia stared at herself blankly in the mirror.An elegantly dressed bride in a long, white lace veil and satin sheath gown stared back at her. It still didn’t feel right. She picked up her neatly bundled bouquet of white roses and looked back in the mirror.It was the morning of her wedding. In less than an hour she would have everything she’d barely dared to dream of—she’d be Mrs. Xavier Regulus. Robby would have his father.So where was the joy? She should have been ecstatic with bliss and hope. So why, looking at herself in this beautiful dress, standing in a suite of this beautiful rented mansion outside her village, did she feel so…empty?Xavier had wanted to marry her immediately, in Rio, but he’d quickly given in to Sylvia’s begging when she’d asked to have their wedding in New Hampshire, so her family could attend.‘We can get married in New Hampshire, of course we can, if that’s your wish,’ he’d told her. ‘But after the ceremony, we must live in Rio. Do you