Free Illegitimate Tycoon by Janette Kenny

she admitted. “You know that I treasure my privacy.”
                 “As
do I.” He caught her hand in his, and she shivered at that first jolt of energy
that passed from him to her. “Come on. I know just the place to relax.”
                 In
moments he’d pulled her out a side door covered by a portico. A uniformed
driver stood beside a sleek red sports car.
                 “Merci,” Rafael told the man, who tossed
him the key before walking back to a nondescript economy car where another man
waited.
                 “How
did you arrange a car so quickly?” she asked as Rafael opened her door.
                 “I
have connections.”
                 A
fact she was well aware of.
                 “Were
you so sure that I’d go off with you?” she teased.
                 His
sinfully beautiful mouth pulled into a smile that left her tingling inside. “I
can be very persuasive.” As well she knew!
                 In
moments Rafael had whipped through the congested streets toward the harbor. She
leaned back in the seat and savored the vista of clear blue sea crowded with
all manner of vessels, of the array of umbrellas strung along the beach like a
string of colorful gems.
                 Of
being alone with her husband. Maybe when they stopped she could find the words
to tell him of their loss. Maybe then he’d understand her fears and the risks
involved.
                 She
studied the people crowded on the sandy beach, certain if she looked hard
enough she’d catch sight of one of the noted celebrities. But as always Rafael
drew her attention back to him, for he was the most fascinating man she’d ever
met.
                 He
handled the powerful car just like he did everything else—with an arrogant ease
that she’d always admired. Quiet control. He’d exuded that aura when she had
first met him, even though he had acted carefree. Reckless, almost.
                 Rafael
da Souza had been oh so sure he’d succeed in business. And in love.
                 “You
are going to marry me,” he’d said that day he’d taken her away from the chaos
of her world and off into a whirlwind jaunt into the mountains.
                 “Why
would I do that?” she’d asked, though the idea of being married to him had
thrilled her.
                 “Because
you love me and I love you,” he’d said with such surety that she’d fallen a bit
deeper in love with him then and there. “We belong together, querida.”
                 “Don’t
be too sure of that!” she’d quipped, though inside she’d agreed.
                 He
was her other half. The one person she’d trusted with her life—her future. Her
secrets.
                 She’d
known immediately that Rafael was everything she’d dreamed of having in a
husband. Determined. Charming. Fun. And oh so sexy.
                 He
was everything she could ever want for in a lover. For the first time in her
life she’d felt sexy, a major improvement, for when she looked at herself in a
mirror, she saw a woman who was neither pretty nor plain. A woman lacking any
remarkable feature. A woman who felt as lost as she often looked on film.
                 Yet
he’d never ordered her about, never forced his will on her. Instead he’d
allowed her the right to do what she’d been denied as a child—to play. To make
believe.
                 Two
months after meeting him, they married. A very private ceremony in Rio that her
mother had hated, for it had robbed that bitter woman of basking in the
limelight of a media wedding.
                 Leila
smiled at the memory, clearly remembering
                 Rafael
and herself rushing from the small church in Rio to the waiting car.
                 Just
like now she’d had no idea where