Postcards From Rio. Tina Beckett
be here any minute.’
Where was he? Clare’s heart leapt when she saw him by the hangar. But he wasn’t alone. Shock jolted through her when she recognised that the man Diego was talking to was one of the kidnappers who had been with Enzo when she had been taken from the cave in the rainforest. In disbelief she watched Diego and the kidnapper briefly hug each other before the two men started to run towards the plane.
Becky was still crying. ‘Please, Clare, let’s go now.’
Clare had a split second to make a decision. Should she tell the pilot to take off, which would ensure her sister’s safety? Or should she wait for Diego to board the plane with one of the kidnappers? She felt sick. Was Diego somehow involved with Rigo and his criminal gang?
With a flash of clarity she understood that he must have pretended to make a deal with the drugs lord to buy her freedom. Of course he wouldn’t have given away a diamond worth a million dollars to save her. She had been so stupid to have been blinded by his handsome face and laid-back, sexy charm.
‘Sit down and fasten your seat belt,’ she ordered Becky as she ran to the front of the plane and spoke to the pilot. ‘We’re ready to take off, right now.’
* * *
Back on the ground, Diego had breathed easier once he’d watched Clare and Becky board the Dakota. He was fairly certain none of Rigo’s men had seen them climb into the transport plane. With luck he would be able to join the girls without being seen and the plane would take off from the airstrip before the gang members realised that their quarry had escaped.
He’d guessed that Rigo had planned to have the three of them killed. The time he’d spent in prison had taught him how ruthless criminals’ minds worked, and Rigo was more ruthless than most. He hoped the gathering dusk would hide him as he stepped out from the doorway of the hangar, but a voice speaking in Portuguese stopped him.
‘Not so fast. Put your hands in the air.’
Slowly, Diego turned around and did a double take as he recognised a face from the past. ‘Miguel?’
‘Santa Mãe! Diego, is it really you?’ The other man lowered his gun. ‘The last time I saw you was in prison.’
‘Nearly twenty years ago.’ Diego pictured two teenage boys being escorted by prison guards to an overcrowded cell, hearing the taunts from the other prisoners, terrified of what would happen to them.
‘You saved my life,’ Miguel said hoarsely, ‘and had your ear cut off by the other prisoners as punishment for protecting me. I’ve never forgotten.’
Nor had Diego forgotten, despite trying to block out the memories of hell. Like him, Miguel had been on remand and awaiting trial to prove he was innocent of the crime he had been accused of. ‘Why are you working for a shit like Rigo?’
Miguel shook his head. ‘He threatened my family. But my parents are both dead now and I don’t care if Rigo kills me for helping you to escape. I owe you, my friend.’
‘Rigo isn’t going to kill either of us,’ Diego said grimly. ‘Come with me.’ He swore as he heard the roar of the Dakota’s engines. ‘Quickly! Our chance to escape is about to take off.’
* * *
Clare held her breath as the plane lifted off the runway. Becky was still crying, and she gripped her sister’s hand. ‘It’s all over, Becky. You’re safe and we’re going home.’
But what about Diego? her conscience asked. She had rescued Becky, but what if she had been wrong to think Diego was involved with Rigo? She had seen him talking to one of the kidnappers, she reminded herself. She’d made the right choice to leave him behind, hadn’t she?
‘Deus, Clare, why didn’t you wait for me?’
She gasped, wondering if she had imagined Diego’s voice. But as she jumped up from her seat and looked towards the back of the plane, she saw him emerge from the cargo hold, followed by the man she’d seen him talking to on the ground who she knew was a member of Rigo’s gang.
Clare’s immediate instinct was to protect Becky and she stood in front of her and glared at Diego. ‘Keep away from my sister. I know you work for Rigo. And this man—’ she indicated the man who had boarded the plane with Diego ‘—is one of the kidnappers who met me at the cave.’
Diego shook his head. ‘Clare, it’s all right. Miguel is my friend from many years ago.’ He put his hand on her arm and swore when she hit him. He saw genuine fear in her eyes and it hurt him more than it should to realise she was afraid of him.
‘You crazy little wildcat,’ he growled. ‘I kept you safe on the journey to Torrente and spent two days up to my neck in mud. You let me believe you were a nun and made me feel guilty for wanting you. You’ve cost me a rare diamond worth a fortune. And, worst of all, I haven’t drunk a single beer since I had the dubious pleasure of meeting you. But, even after all of that, you still don’t trust me.’
He threw off his hat and seized her in his arms, holding her wrists behind her back so that she could not fight him as he lowered his face to hers. ‘So I guess I have nothing to lose,’ he muttered against her lips before he captured her mouth in a punishing kiss that demanded her total subjugation, demanded her soul—and laid claim to her heart.
Clare’s common sense told her not to respond to the kiss, but she was outvoted by her body that capitulated with shameful willingness to Diego’s mastery. She melted into him, seduced by the hardness of his muscles and sinews and the strength of his whipcord body pressed against hers. He was so much taller than her and, with a muttered oath, he lifted her off her feet to bring her mouth level with his and tangled his hand in her hair to prevent her from trying to escape.
But Clare was burning up in the wildfire heat of Diego’s hunger. His mouth was utterly addictive and she wrapped her arms around his neck to allow him to increase the pressure of his lips sliding over hers as he deepened the kiss and coaxed her tongue into an intimate dance.
Reality faded. After everything that had happened in the past few days, Clare no longer knew what reality was. But Diego felt real and solid and nothing else seemed to matter except that he brought her senses alive and made her want to leave behind her safe, sensible life and take a leap into the unknown.
When he tore his mouth from hers and set her back on her feet she stared at him dazedly, slowly becoming aware once more of the rumble of the plane’s engines and the realisation that Diego looked furious.
He pushed her down into a seat and leaned over her. ‘I swear you would test the patience of a saint. If I hear another word from you for the rest of the flight I’ll show you just how unsaintly you make me feel, anjinho.’
‘CLARE, WAKE UP. The helicopter has come for you.’
‘What...helicopter?’ Struggling to surface through a haze of sleep, Clare forced her eyes open and looked groggily at her sister sitting next to her. She remembered they were on the plane, but the Dakota’s engines were silent. ‘When did we land? We’re at Manaus Airport, I suppose.’ Memories of their narrow escape from the kidnappers reminded her that her rescue mission would not be completed until her sister was safely back home. ‘I doubt there are direct flights from here to London so we’ll have to catch a connecting flight to Rio before we can fly to England.’
‘Calm down. We’re in Rio,’ Becky told her. ‘We flew through the night from Torrente and landed a few hours ago. It’s morning now. You’ve slept for twelve hours, but Diego didn’t want to disturb you.’
Fat chance, Clare thought sardonically. She found his brand of raw sexual magnetism deeply disturbing. ‘Where is Diego, anyway?’ She glanced around the empty plane.
‘He had to go to his office. Before he left, he arranged for me to fly first class to London.