Then she heard the faint buzzing inside the house, rattling hard against the nightstand. The vibrating phone that made her sick to her bones. She heard Diogo's voice, muffled from the bedroom. “Catia?”
Ellie's feeling of happiness and tranquility vanished like smoke.
Her grip tightened over her large ceramic teacup. Catia. Again. Why couldn't the woman leave Diogo alone—not even on his honeymoon?
Even as she told herself she didn't care, humiliation and jealousy surged through her. She glanced down at her plate of toast but she'd utterly lost her appetite. She found herself inching toward the open glass door, straining to hear his low voice.
“Tchau,” he said, and she heard him getting out of bed.
Ellie hurried away from the door. She struggled not to feel hurt. Not to care. It wasn't like she'd ever expected Diogo to love her. It was merely a marriage of convenience for the babies' sake. She hadn't even wanted to marry him in the first place!
But jealousy stabbed her. It hurt so deep it was impossible to pretend she didn't feel it.
Give up your other women. Be faithful just to me!
Could she ask him? Did she dare?
“There you are.” Diogo came through the sliding glass door to stand beside her on the patio. “Bom dia, my lovely bride.”
He kissed her briefly on the temple. But looking at him carefully beneath her lashes, Ellie could tell he was tense. He was trying to hide the emotion. He didn't want her to know.
Why? To protect his secret mistress?
“The surf is wild this morning,” he observed. He placed his hands on the railing and looked wistfully out toward the ocean.
Carefully setting down her tea on the table, she came up behind him, gently placing her hands on his back. He turned around.
“Who is Catia?” she whispered. “Why does she keep calling you?”
Glancing back at her, his handsome face closed down. “I don't want to discuss it.”
“You once said that your wife would have the right to ask.”
“Yes.” He ran his hand wearily over the back of his head. “Someday I will tell you. But not now.”
She felt angry tears spring to her eyes. “You can't honestly expect me to share you!”
He ground his jaw. “Querida—”
“Don't call me that! Don't you dare insult my intelligence by pretending you actually care about me!”
“You will share me, Ellie. You have no choice. Just as I will have no choice but to share you.”
“I would never—”
“With our children,” he interrupted.
She shook her head angrily. “It's not the same thing!”
“I will give you and our babies a good home. You will have untold wealth and the protection of my name. Don't ask more from me. Not yet.”
“But I'm your wife!”
His eyes looked dark. “There are some things that a man doesn't discuss with his wife. Especially not with his wife.”
She shook her head. She couldn't believe that. Wouldn't believe it. Why couldn't he just admit he had a mistress and put her out of her misery of wondering? How could they have any marriage at all if they couldn't even be honest?
“Who is she?” she whispered. “Is she beautiful?”
“I'm done discussing this,” he said coldly. “Accept that I have my secrets, and be content.”
If only she could do that. Pregnant with twins, married to a handsome billionaire, she had everything most women would want. So what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just be happy, without crying out for his love and fidelity in the bargain?
“Fine,” she said in a clipped voice. “Keep your secrets.”
“Get dressed.” His face was hard as he turned from her. “We must return to Rio immediately.”
She gasped at him. “Now? But we just got here! Our honeymoon…”
“Our honeymoon is over,” he said. “I have business in Rio.”
Yeah, she thought. She could just imagine what kind of business. A vivacious redhead with impossibly long legs, or a sultry, experienced brunette with skills in bed that Ellie couldn't hope to match.
What power did Catia have, that she could so easily make Diogo come at her beck and call? “I don't want to go.”
“We leave in five minutes. Be ready.” Opening the sliding glass door, he walked back into the house without another glance.
A few minutes later, Ellie was dressed in a loosely fitting white shirt and khaki pants. Feeling desperately sad, she departed the beach house as a trio of laughing maids entered to clean it. Ellie cast one last wistful glance at the bed as the maids stripped the bedlinens. The beach house would soon be immaculate again. As if his wedding night with Ellie had never existed.