Brazilian Escape. Sandra Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ again how she did not belong here.

      ‘Why?’ He knelt down beside her and spoke in a rough whisper. ‘Why would you come here?’

      She didn’t answer him—Meg couldn’t open her mouth to speak.

      ‘Why?’ he demanded, and then she looked at him and he was reminded of the last time he had seen her. Because even with the absence of her bared teeth he could feel her anger, could see her green eyes flash with suppressed rage and hear the spit of her words when finally she answered him.

      ‘You’re entitled to me, apparently.’

      Niklas remembered the first time he had met her. She had been anxious, but happy, and he knew that it was he who had reduced her to this. He could see the pain and the disgust in her eyes as she looked at the man she had married, as she saw the nothing he really was.

      And he did not want her charity.

      ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’

      He moved to the door, preparing to call for the guards. He might regret it later, but he did not want a minute more in this room.

      As he moved to go he heard her voice.

      ‘Niklas.’ She halted him. This was not about what had happened between them, not about scoring points, she was here for one reason only. ‘Your people told me…’ He turned to face her. ‘I’m to tell you …’

      He silenced her by pressing his finger to his lips and nodded to the door. He trusted no one—never had in his life, and wasn’t about to start in here. But then he closed his eyes for a second, for that was wrong. Because for a while he had trusted her, and did still. He came over to her, knelt down again and moved his head to her mouth, so she could quietly tell him the little she knew.

      ‘Miguel is working against you. You are to ask for a change of representation at your trial …’

      His head pulled back and she watched as he took in the news. Quietly she told him the little she knew. His face was grey and his eyes shone black. He swallowed as if tasting bile and she heard his rapid angry breathing. His whisper was harsh when it came.

       ‘No.’

      It had to be a lie, because if his own lawyer was working against him he was here for life.

      She had to be lying.

      ‘How?’ he demanded. ‘Why?’

      ‘I don’t know anything more than that,’ Meg said. ‘It’s all I’ve been told.’

      ‘When?’ he insisted, his voice an angry whisper. ‘When were you told?’

      And she told him about the visit—how on Monday morning Rosa and her colleagues had arrived at her place of work. He thought of her momentarily in Sydney, getting on with her life without him, and now here she was in Brazil.

      ‘They should never have sent you …’ He was livid. ‘It’s too dangerous …’

      ‘It’s fine …’

      It was so not fine.

      ‘Niklas …’ She told him all they had told her—that they had to have sex, about the bed and the bin, and that the guards could not know she was here for any other reason.

      He saw her face burn in shame, and she saw his disgust at what he had put her through.

      ‘It’s fine, Niklas,’ she whispered. ‘I know what I’m doing …’ She could feel his fury; it was there in the room with them.

      ‘You should not be here.’

      ‘It’s my decision.’

      ‘Then it’s the wrong one.’

      ‘I’m very good at making those around you, it would seem. Anyway,’ she whispered harshly, ‘you don’t have to worry—you’re paying me well …’

      ‘How much?’

      She told him.

      And he knew then the gravity of his situation, understood just how serious this was—because he had no money any more. Everything had been frozen. He thought of his legal team paying her with money of their own and it tempered the bitterness that sometimes consumed him a little. Then he looked at the woman he might even have loved and tasted bitterness one again, for he hated what the world had done to him.

      ‘So you’re not here out of the goodness of your heart?’

      ‘You’ve already had that part,’ Meg said. ‘So can we just get it over with?’

      She looked over to the bed and he saw the swallowing in her throat, knew that she was drenched in fear. He looked to the door again, knowing there was a guard outside, one he did not trust, who must never get so much as a hint as to the real reason she was here.

      Paid to be here, Niklas reminded himself.

      He trusted no one again.

      He stood and ripped the sheet from the bed, and she sat there as he twisted it in his hands before throwing it back. She heard his anger as he took the bedhead in angry hands and rocked the bed against the wall. He felt his anger building as he slammed the bed faster and faster. He had never paid for sex in his life. Yes, he’d have been grateful for a hooker, but he’d never taken Meg as one and his head was pounding as the bed hit the wall again and again. He did not know who to believe any more, and as the bed slammed faster he shouted out.

      Meg sobbed as he shouted, but it did nothing to dissipate the fury still building, and then he picked up the condoms by the bedside and went to the small wash area and got to work to make sure evidence of their coupling was in place. Meg sat there, listening and crying. She understood his anger but she did not understand her own self, for even here, amidst this filth and shame, she wanted him. So badly she wanted to be with the man she had so sorely missed. Not just the sex, but the comfort he somehow gave.

      ‘Niklas …’ She walked into the washroom and ignored him when he told her, less than politely, to go away. His back was to her. She moved to his side and saw his fury, saw his hand working fast. He repeated his demand for her to leave him, and when it was clear that she didn’t understand just how much he meant the words he told her in French and then Spanish.

      ‘How many ways do you need to hear it …?’

      How deep was his shame to be seen like this, to be reduced to this? His back had been to Meg, for he could not face her, yet she’d slipped into the space between him and the wall and her mouth was on his. One of her hands joined his now.

      ‘Leave me.’

      ‘No.’ She stroked him too.

      ‘Leave me,’ he said as her other hand slipped off her panties.

      ‘No.’

      And she put her hands around his neck and pressed herself against him, tried to kiss him. He spat her out.

      ‘You don’t СКАЧАТЬ