Claimed For The Leonelli Legacy. Lynne GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.
that less than cool reality.
‘Rio,’ Max told her, lifting his darkly handsome head from the tablet he had been using. ‘Sorry I’m distracted but I have work email to answer.’
‘We’re going to Rio? I thought we were going to Belém.’
‘We are, but we are flying to Rio before we head for the UK.’
‘I love Belém. It’s so big and busy,’ Tia chattered and told him about the annual boat trip the sisters took along the River Guama to see the Círio of Nazaré procession, which was the biggest and most important religious event in Brazil.
She talked a lot, Max reflected, and culture shock was likely to hit her when she saw the size of Rio de Janeiro because the city of Belém was tiny in comparison. He also wondered what he would do with her in Rio because he had work to do. It was all very well for Andrew to send him halfway across the world for Tia, but Grayson Industries did not run itself and fast decisions had to be made every day to keep Andrew’s companies running smoothly. In addition, Max worked very long hours to convince himself and anyone else who cared to quibble that he was fully capable of being CEO of Grayson Industries despite his comparative youth.
‘If we’re really going to Rio,’ Tia said breathlessly, ‘I have a school friend there whom I would love to visit. I haven’t seen Madalena since we were eighteen and she left school to go home to her family. We write to each other...well, she writes occasionally. She’s very busy.’
‘Is she one of those troubled girls you mentioned?’ Max enquired almost lazily.
‘Of course not. Madalena was Head Girl in our last year,’ Tia told him cheerfully.
‘You should spend an evening with her,’ Max suggested.
‘Yes. It would be wonderful to have the chance to catch up with what she’s been doing,’ Tia remarked, thinking that she would be listening rather than contributing at any such reunion because Madalena’s family was well-off and her former schoolmate seemed to enjoy a dynamic social life. But even so she would very much enjoy seeing the bubbly brunette again. Madalena was a lot of fun and fun was something that had been in very short supply in Tia’s life since her school days had ended.
At the airport, they boarded a private jet. Tia was astonished when Max pointed out the Grayson logo on the tail fin and explained that her grandfather owned it. When he had said ‘wealthy’ it had not occurred to her that he could mean quite that level of wealth. She sat quietly in her upholstered leather seat while she was served a delicious lunch. Max pretty much worked and she wondered if that was the norm for him or if rather, and which she felt was very likely, she simply bored him. Their lives were very different. They had nothing in common, she conceded unhappily. What could an international businessman of Max Leonelli’s stature possibly find worthy of interest in a girl who had spent her entire restricted life in a convent?
Thoroughly depressed by that thought and scolding herself for the reality, Tia petted Teddy, who had quietened down considerably after his spell in the carrier. Teddy went to sleep and Tia eventually dozed off too.
As the jet landed at Rio, Max reflected with satisfaction on his morning of work. He only belatedly recalled his passengers and the whole point of the trip to Rio de Janeiro. He was supposed to be using the opportunity to get to know Tia. Yet unlike most women he knew she had not uttered a word of complaint at being ignored. His conscience twanged as he studied her, her beautiful face tranquil in sleep, that exquisite pillowy mouth more tempting than ever in repose. Teddy’s little beady eyes snapped open as if he could sense Max’s proximity even when asleep and he bared his teeth in a silent snarl.
‘Get used to me,’ Max murmured drily. ‘I’m not going away.’
He would marry her. It was true that he hadn’t even thought of marriage before Andrew cornered him but Tia was beautiful and kind and undemanding. How could any man possibly do better than that winning combination in a woman? He had had a lot of partners in his bed over the years, had revelled in all the variety that imbued such freedom; however, Tia ticked all the right boxes. And came with a massive inheritance, the other side of his brain reminded him. But that wasn’t a box he had sought to tick because, even before he’d accepted Andrew’s offer to step temporarily into the CEO job to free Andrew up for his unsuccessful treatment, Max had been rich enough in his own right to be satisfied with his lifestyle. At the same time though he relished the daily challenge of controlling Grayson Industries. Power, he acknowledged wryly, was definitely an aphrodisiac.
Tia whooped in delight when she saw the massive Christ the Redeemer statue, Rio’s most striking landmark. Max was quick to realise that he was unlikely to escape that tourist pilgrimage and he breathed in deep. Well, at least someone was likely to appreciate the private chapel at Andrew’s country house which the older man had had meticulously restored in the hope of encouraging his devout son’s, Paul’s, return to England.
When the limousine that had collected them at the airport drew up outside the giant opulent hotel where they were to stay, Tia was momentarily overpowered. ‘This is the hotel? But it’s famous.’
‘Yes.’ A dancing smile slashed Max’s beautifully shaped mouth, his dark as night eyes gleaming. ‘I thought you would enjoy it.’
Tia felt overwhelmed. That smile engulfed her like a tidal wave, washing away clear thought, igniting afresh all the physical reactions that both thrilled and unnerved her at one and the same time. She smoothed her fingers down over her best skirt, made of cotton cloth that had once been a pristine white but which now had a creamy tinge. ‘I’m not dressed for a place like this, Max,’ she pointed out uneasily.
‘But you will be soon,’ Max told her. ‘I’ve organised a new wardrobe for you. Someone is coming to our suite to measure you and someone else will then arrive with a selection of clothing for you to choose from.’
‘Are you joking?’ Tia whispered in astonishment.
‘No. Your grandfather wants you to have whatever you want.’
‘But I didn’t ask for clothes.’ Tia reddened. ‘Well, I know I need them.’
‘Let’s not make a big deal of it, then. Andrew is a generous man,’ Max told her, nodding to the driver to open the passenger door beside her.
Flustered, Tia climbed out, smoothing her skirt again, her palms sweating as she scanned the ornate front entrance and the even more opulent interior she could see through the open doors. Inside she could see elegantly dressed people moving around and her courage almost tanked at that point because she knew how shabby and poor she had to look in comparison. What had passed muster at the convent could not even compare to the smartly uniformed staff surging towards them to pick up their luggage. Teddy was checked in to the equivalent of a luxury kennel and Tia parted with her pet with reluctance.
The dog settled, Max planted a controlling hand to the base of her spine and swept Tia back into the lift, ignoring her resistance. ‘Stop acting so nervous,’ he breathed in her ear. ‘You’re a Grayson and your grandfather has made that name something to be proud of. Clothes aren’t important.’
It was all right for him, Tia reflected on a surge of brief resentment, for Max exuded the sophisticated, exclusive lustre of a male who had only just stepped off a glossy magazine cover. Every inch of him was groomed and sleek. He reeked of money and self-assurance, neither trait being one she had ever enjoyed, but she knew that Mother Sancha would have agreed with his outlook rather than her own and she gritted her teeth. Within minutes they were ensconced in the lift with their luggage.
The magnificent suite reminded Tia of rooms she had seen on a popular Brazilian soap opera based on a very rich family. The views were stupendous, on one side looking out over the huge city and on the other out over a vast beach and the sea. Every window opened out onto a balcony and the furniture was beautifully upholstered in colours that struck her as wildly impractical for daily use. She followed the porter into a glorious bedroom, walked into an attached bathroom resplendent with marble and mirrors and gold taps. Her fingertips brushed a white fleecy towel and then trailed over the shot