Theo moved closer, deliberately encroaching on the space between the two people in the centre of the room.
Alfonso’s attention jerked towards him and his smile changed from playboy-charming to friendly welcome.
‘Amigo, I wasn’t aware that you had returned to my beloved country. It seems we cannot keep you away.’
‘For what I need to achieve in Rio, wild horses couldn’t keep me away,’ he replied, deliberately keeping himself from glancing at the woman who stood next to Alfonso. He breathed in and caught her scent—expensive but subtle, a seductive whisper of flowers and warm sunshine.
His friend’s eyes gleamed. ‘Speaking of horses—’
Theo shook his head. ‘No, Alfonso, your racehorses don’t interest me. Speedboat racing, on the other hand… Just say the word and I’ll kick your ass from one end of the Copacabana to the other.’
Alfonso laughed. ‘No can do, my friend. Everyone knows underneath that tuxedo you’re part shark. I prefer to take my chances on land.’
A delicate clearing of a throat made Alfonso turn, a smile of apology appearing on his face as he slipped back into playboy mode. For the ten years that Theo had known him, Alfonso had had a weakness for curvy brunettes.
Inez da Costa had curves that required their own danger signs. His friend risked being easy prey for whatever the da Costas had in mind for him.
‘Apologies, querida. Please allow me to introduce you to—’
Theo stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m perfectly capable of making my own introductions. Right now, I think you’re needed elsewhere.’
Alfonso’s eyes widened in confusion. ‘Elsewhere?’
Theo leaned and whispered in his friend’s ear. Shock and anger registered on Alfonso’s face before his jaw clenched and he reined his emotions back in. His gaze slid to the woman next to him and returned to Theo’s.
Taking in a deep breath, he held out his hand. ‘I guess I owe you one, my friend.’
Theo took the proffered hand. ‘You owe me several, but who’s counting?’
‘And I shall repay you. Até a próxima.’
‘Until next time,’ Theo repeated. He heard the disbelieving gasp from Inez da Costa as Alfonso walked away without another glance in her direction.
A thread of satisfaction oozed through him as he tracked his friend to the ballroom doors. Scanning the room, he saw Pietro da Costa’s thunderous look in his sister’s direction.
Theo lifted his glass to his lips and took a lazy sip then turned his attention to Inez da Costa.
Her large brown eyes were filled with anger as she glared at him.
‘Who the devil are you and what did you say to Alfonso?’
CHAPTER TWO
THEO DIDN’T LIKE the idea that he’d been less than one hundred per cent thorough in covering every angle in his investigations.
His surveillance of Inez da Costa had been from afar simply because until recently he’d deemed her involvement in his investigation peripheral at best.
The extent of her role in her father’s organisation had only come to light a few days ago. But even then he should’ve recognised her power.
Now, at the first proper sight of what was turning out to be the jewel in Benedicto da Costa’s crown, the essential cog in the sinister wheel that his enemy was intent on using to his full advantage, he experienced a pulse of heat so strong, so powerful, he sucked in a quick breath.
Up close, Inez da Costa’s heart-shaped face was flawless…breathtaking, her skin a silky, vibrant complexion even the best cosmetics couldn’t hope to produce.
Not that she hadn’t attempted to enhance her beauty even further. Her make-up was impeccable, her lids smoky in a way that drew attention to her wide, doe-like stare.
Long-lashed eyes that bored into him with unwavering demand and a healthy dose of suspicion. Her nose flared with pure Latin ire and her full lips parted as she released another agitated breath.
The pictures in his dossier did her no justice at all. Flesh and blood wrapped in red silk from cleavage to toe, she made his senses ignite in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. The earlier pull deep in his groin returned. Harder.
‘I asked you a question.’ Her voice held a hint of dark sultriness that reminded him of a warm Santorini evening spent drinking ouzo on a deserted beach. And the mouth that framed her words, painted a deep matt red, reminded him of what happened on the beach after the ouzo had been consumed and inhibitions were at their loosest.