Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon by Carmen Falcone Page B

her arms and traced an invisible pattern on the tile with her left foot. “Can you tell me about Serena?” she asked.
    Bruno shifted. “That’s quite a change of subject.”
    Addie unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips. “I just laid it all out with my fear of frogs.”
    “Serena is a well-to-do lawyer, I believe. Divorced.”
    She shook her head at his evasive answer. “Tell me something I can’t find on Google.”
    “You Googled her?”
    She shrugged. “I would Google this frog if it had a name.”
    He chuckled, but the sound died in his throat when her posture stiffened. “She was someone I once cared about.”
    “What happened?”
    “Didn’t work out.” Understated but true. He drank the last of his now warm beer and jumped down to place the bottle on a low square table by the swing.
    “Are you still interested in her?”
    “No,” he answered truthfully. Serena had been on his mind for years. He’d wondered what had happened to her and how he’d react in front of her.
    And when he’d finally seen her again, all he could think was how much of his past Serena knew—and how much of it he’d wanted to shield Addie from. He’d had no physical response to Serena whatsoever, which was a surprise and a relief. His mind and body reacted only to the wife he couldn’t screw.
    “If you want to sleep with someone, just be discreet about it. But don’t lie to me. I can’t stand lies.” Her voice trembled at first and gained strength at the end.
    He couldn’t help the way his lips curled into a smile. “I do want to sleep with someone.”
    She bit her lip and nodded with quiet dignity. “Thank you for your honesty.”
    “I won’t be the least discreet about it.” He stepped closer, feasting on the shape of her luscious lips, the vein pulsing on her neck. “In fact, when it does happen, we’ll need soundproof walls.”
    Not wanting to miss her reaction, he stared into her eyes and enjoyed the blend of surprise and surrender in them. Her ragged breath overpowered the sound of faraway crickets and frogs. He had promised not to kiss her, and he hadn’t. But, by God, he hadn’t promised not to touch her. Not to share every filthy thought that crossed his mind.
    Without being able to resist, he closed the remaining gap between them. With slightly trembling fingers, he outlined the waves of her hair ever so carefully. Maintaining control proved a hard task, and he feared if she responded, he would pull her against him and kiss her with the lust lodged in his throat.
    “That’s exaggerating.”
    “Not for what I have in mind.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She gasped, and he smothered a groan. Every time she was near him, his resolve to keep her at an arm’s length evaporated. With her eyelashes shadowing her freckled cheeks and pink, parted lips, Addie’s state of arousal confirmed what her words tried to mask—she wanted him.
    He dipped his head down, coming close to breaking his promise not to kiss her unless she verbally asked him.
    “I guess we’ll never find out. Has Silas contacted you again?”
    Of course she’d bring this up now. He backed away from her like a bucket of icy water had been poured all over him. “Just a couple of short phone calls.”
    “Which you failed to mention.” She brought her hands to her waist.
    “My deal with you isn’t to update you on my every move. You’ll get your ten months and cash. That’s all there is to it.”
    She rolled her eyes. “That’s all there is to it,” she said more to herself than to him, before ducking her head and steering away from him.
    Addie gave him one last glance before muttering a superficial good night and disappearing inside, the image of her backside not helping the swelling in his jeans. Torto followed her, his tail wagging.
    How was even a pretend marriage so much work?
    He enjoyed his work—to crack codes, to develop software, to help undiscovered talent reach new heights. Even when