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Dante was amused. ‘When I need a bodyguard I’ll know who to call.’
‘It will cost you extra,’ she warned him dryly, moving on.
Dante was right about things getting wild. The decorated floats had arrived and everyone was excited as they trundled into view. ‘Your safety’s my responsibility,’ he explained, when he yanked her close.
‘And you’re my honoured client,’ she reminded him, pulling away. ‘If anyone gets protected here, it’s you—and you haven’t paid my fee yet,’ she said dryly.
He laughed. The first honest, open laugh she’d heard from him so far.
‘You’re one tough lady.’
‘Believe it, Dante. You became my responsibility from the moment I agreed to accompany you to the carnival, and I won’t let any harm come to you.’
‘And I will allow none to come to you,’ he assured her with an intensity that made her blink.
Did the same rule apply these days to the women in his bed?
‘I can look after myself,’ she repeated, wondering if her treacherous heart could beat its way out of her lying mouth. Having Dante this close made her doubt everything—her willpower, her powers of reasoned thought...
His husky laugh put an end to her brief moment of panic. It coincided with some more girls recognising him and crowding round. His black eyes mocked her when they went on their way, and he shrugged as he excused himself. ‘They said they knew me.’
‘I’m sure they do,’ she agreed. ‘Please, excuse me if I’m interrupting your congregation in the act of worship.’
He laughed again—a wolf laugh, sharp and faintly threatening. ‘You are jealous. Why fight it, Karina?’
‘May I suggest we move on?’ she said coolly.
Another few yards on and a girl dancing on a float called out to Dante. All the men were agog as they stared at her. She was beautiful. Wearing feathers and sparkles and not much more, it was no wonder Dante was so spoiled when every woman laid it on a plate for him.
Including her, Karina remembered, firming her jaw as Dante swung his arm around her shoulders.
‘Sorry,’ he said again, with a smile that could melt the stoniest of hearts.
She resisted the temptation to melt at his feet. ‘Please, don’t worry about me. There are plenty of distractions here that prevent me watching you baste your ego.’
‘Ah, Karina,’ he growled softly, ‘have you forgotten that I’m your honoured client?’
‘I have forgotten nothing. We signed a contract,’ she reminded him crisply, ‘so I’ve got your business.’
‘So you don’t need to try?’ Dante suggested with an amused look.
‘Where business is concerned, I can assure you of my full attention. Where anything else is concerned?’ She shrugged.
That was the end of that conversation as they were forced into silence by one of the samba bands marching past. The rhythm was infectious, making it impossible to remain tense. Everyone around them had started dancing. The performers and their supporters had put so much effort into the parade even she allowed herself to respond to their energy. It occurred to her as she started dancing that at one time she would have been up there on a float, dancing along with the best of them.
‘This is good, Karina.’
Her glance flashed up to Dante.
‘Watch and learn, because this is exactly what I want you to re-create on my ranch.’
‘Carnival?’ She stared up at him in surprise.
She couldn’t help noticing how attractive Dante looked when his lips pressed down in wry agreement. ‘I’m not asking for too much, am I?’ he probed.
He was asking for the world—and he knew it. Carnival took a year to plan, and she had a matter of weeks.
‘After all, I’m paying for the best.’
He shrugged again as he said this, and his tone of voice had changed from coaxing to rather more calculating as he added, ‘I’m paying for the best, so I expect the best.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed, relaxing into this return to business, even as she wondered if it could possibly last. ‘The impossible I can do.’
‘Miracles might take a little longer?’ he suggested. ‘You will have to work fast.’
There was no leeway in that statement, and she prided herself on always doing the best job faster than anyone else. Dante had turned away to throw a roll of banknotes onto a passing float, reminding her that all the performers were collecting money for charity. People who often had very little themselves worked hard all year to raise money during the parade, which was what made carnival so special. Locating all the cash she had, she tossed it onto the float. She would never lose sight of what this city had done for her. Working here had saved her. The vitality and the energy of Rio de Janeiro had lifted her, giving her barely enough time to brood or think back.
