Page 20 of Brazilian Surrender
“What donation?” Camila asked.
Rather than extravagant gifts, Erika and Emanuel, Camila’s brother, had asked friends and family for donations to the charitable organization they both managed in Brazil. Jaeger knew Camila had probably sent some money beforehand, but the previous day he’d asked his assistant to make a donation in his name as well.
“I forgot to mention it.” He glanced at Camila, whose lips parted. She looked beautiful when she was vulnerable and in shock. His cock stirred and he wanted nothing more than to take advantage of those lips and capture them in a sensual, languid kiss.
“Aren’t you a man of many surprises,” Camila said.
“Those are the best ones,” Erika added. “Your suite is the last one to the left on the second floor if you want to leave your things and freshen up. We’re having cocktails on the deck at five.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Jaeger gestured for Camila to lead the way and followed her. Deep down he wished he smoked or could blow off some steam. When he needed to, he’d channel his frustration with a kickboxing session, jogging, or calling one of the women on his contact list for drinks and no-strings sex. He’d acted like staying with her was no big deal because he’d hate for Camila to know how much she affected him. More and more he noticed the spark in her honest brown eyes whenever he cut her any slack.
When he opened the door, he inhaled deeply. A big, dark wood California king bed took center stage, the antique carving of the furniture contrasting against the soft pink on the walls, linens, and loveseat. Leather-bound books lined the built-in shelves, and ruffled lamps sat on each nightstand. The room was so undoubtedly romantic that he half expected the cast of Little Women to make a surprise appearance. His stomach contracted. This will be harder than I thought.
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep there,” he said, pointing at the sofa. He’d need to shove aside the useless small pillows occupying it, but he’d worry much later when it’d be time to go to sleep. First, they had a cocktail affair to endure.
“Okay. Do you want to use the bathroom first?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nah. I have to check my email and see if my team sent me any updates.”
“Good.” She started to walk to the bathroom, then stopped in her tracks and tossed him a glance over her shoulders. She angled her head and flashed him a lopsided grin. “Thanks for coming.”
“Just doing my job.” His job didn’t include gawking at his client’s ass as she sauntered away from him, or fighting the erotic images forming in his head that involved said client.
Shaking his head again, he grabbed his cell and called Tony. “Do you have anything on Ralph Stewart?” he asked.
“He was arrested for battery four years ago, but his girlfriend at the time didn’t want to press charges. I hacked into his company’s security cameras. Found out he worked every day that the letters were mailed from New Jersey.”
“He could have paid someone to do it. How about when the dog was killed?”
“He was out of his office in meetings.”
Shit. “Within the same time frame?”
“Yes. I couldn’t access his assistant’s calendar because she’s old school and prefers to write his meetings on paper apparently. I’m going in the office today during lunch to look at her planner.”
“Good.” If he knew one person capable of blending in naturally and coming up with great disguises, Tony fit the bill. “How about Lee’s phone bill?”
“I found nothing. If he bought an untraceable phone or prepaid, he used cash, because I also checked his credit card bills.”
“Okay. Keep me informed. Thanks.”
He decided to chill on the balcony and hoped the breeze and the sound of waves slapping the shore would provide him some much-needed tranquility.
He sat on the bench chair and closed his eyes. His fingers drummed on his legs. When had been the last time he’d totally let go of worries and relaxed completely? Ever since losing Ellen and Trevor, he’d worked obsessively as a survival mechanism. This thing with Camila was…work. But the beach surroundings and the family setting made him almost forget she was his client.
What if I forget for one night?
What a stupid and dangerous idea. Was a screw worth all the trouble? Besides, she probably wouldn’t like the way he preferred sex. He hoped she wouldn’t. Because if she did enjoy it…he’d be completely lost.
