The Illegitimate Tycoon. Janette Kenny

shoulders.

      “You look stunning,” he said.

      “Thank you. So do you,” she said, pulling away from him as smoothly as she could so it didn’t look as if she was running from him. “You’ll clearly attract the eye of every woman here tonight.”

      He laughed, a rich sound she hadn’t heard in far too long. And even that did odd things to her insides.

      Good heavens, she would never be able to force a bite down tonight as nervous as she was in his company. Not the way her stomach had been of late.

      She slipped her feet into strappy heels, the silver stilettos giving her added height. Now she was nearly eye level with him. On more of an equal footing. And that put her even closer to that devastatingly sensual mouth of his that she longed to kiss.

      Damn! Why was she suddenly so obsessed with sex?

      “Ready?” she quipped.

      “Whenever you are,” he said in that same rich tone that hummed along her senses.

      She moved to the door. If they didn’t get out of this quiet suite, they’d end up in each other’s arms. In bed. Locked in passion.

      Or battle?

      Yes, because she couldn’t keep her secret much longer. And she knew he’d be angry when he found out the truth.

      She didn’t want to fight with Rafael tonight. This was special to him. To them.

      “I hope the lines aren’t too long,” she said, focusing on what was to come instead of Rafael da Souza.

      “We’ll soon see.”

      He closed the door behind her and kept pace at her side, not touching her but so close his aura seemed to encircle her. Dwarf her. That was an odd comfort that she grasped on to.

      He’d always been her protector. Always had been the one person she could confide in.

      And yet she hadn’t been able to when it had mattered most!

      The fangs of guilt eating at her faded away as they stepped into the limelight. Even in his presence, she still felt like a rare bird in a cage, photographed and ogled endlessly. Being out among the masses was vastly different from a shoot where it was just her and the lens. When she was in control.

      She’d never liked this side of her career. This star worship that was as shallow and fake as the artificial minilights twinkling above them.

      Before they reached the elevators, she saw the people clustered in the lobby waiting. An old panic began bubbling inside her and she immediately slowed, her gaze searching for another means to avoid this crush.

      His hand came up to rest at the small of her back. “Take a breath, meu amor.”

      She did, then another longer, deeper one. “I don’t see anyone I know, at least not personally.”

      There was no shortage of celebrities waiting in their finery for the elevator. Though she was comfortable strutting her stuff in front of a camera, she hated competing one-on-one with her peers face-to-face!

      In her eyes, she always came up lacking. She was still the chubby girl whom her mother had taken in hand and had taught how to rid herself of weight. Who’d learned a dangerous lesson that had nearly taken her life.

      “This way,” Rafael said, herding her to the last elevator on the left where three men and an elegant woman waited.

      She didn’t know them, but it was clear by their welcoming expressions that they knew Rafael well. It was the first time that she could recall someone recognizing him before her and the feeling was startling. Almost freeing.

      “Good to see you, Rafael,” the older of the men said as he extended his hand. “The new phones look fantastic in the gift bags. Before the festival is over, everyone will be clambering for one of them.”

      Rafael smiled as he shook hands with the man. “I certainly hope so. Please, allow me to introduce my wife, Leila Santiago. Leila, this is the producer of Bastion 9.”

      Introductions were quickly made, and Leila discovered the woman was the producer’s wife. The other gentleman was the writer, having just won an award for his original script on a previous movie.

      “Our daughter is a true fan of yours,” the woman said, surprising Leila. “She dreams of being a model one day and you are the woman she’s determined to emulate.”

      “I wish her much success,” Leila said. And none of the heartache.

      She fervently hoped that the girl was blessed with a body that remained lithe. That she avoided the pitfalls that had nearly cost Leila her life. That if she did fail, she would be able to find help quickly at a place like her private clinic, where Leila had already given aide to countless other young girls.

      The elevator doors opened and they trooped into the waiting car. Before others could crowd in behind them, she saw Rafael punch the button to close the doors.

      She flashed him a grateful smile which he acknowledged with a nod and wink that did odd things to her insides and calmed her as none of her inner talks could. If only he could shut out the rest of the world so easily.

      “We have an exciting surprise lined up at the party,” the producer said. “You must make an effort to be there at the launch of it.”

      “Of course,” Rafael said before she could say a word. “We wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

      She would. She’d prefer a night alone with her husband. She wanted to unburden her soul. But it would have to wait.

      The elevator doors whooshed open and she pushed her way out, eager to get away from strangers. To catch a breath that wasn’t laced with the spicy scent that was uniquely Rafael’s.

      But she got no more than three steps before he was at her side. “Are you all right?”

      “You know I dislike small closed spaces,” she said.

      “As much as I despise the cameras that follow us around.” He huffed a breath, and she felt his annoyance vibrate through her in a liquid wave.

      Yes, this was her world. She’d gladly guide him through it – as long as he stayed close.

      “This red carpet we’re about to trod down en route to the Palais du Cinéma is hellish for me too,” she admitted.

      “You are serious?”

      “Very. It’s different when it’s just me and the camera. I’m in control then. But they—” she nodded at the throng ahead of them “—they are calling the shots now.”

      “Only if you let them, Leila.”

      He was right, of course. Still it served to remind her how to get through this crush.

      “Just smile. Pretend you see a dear friend just beyond the camera.”

      “Is that what you do?” he asked.

      “Sometimes.” But usually she looked for him in the crowd, even though she knew he’d not be there.

      He took a breath, then nodded and touched his fingers to her back again. “Let’s go, then. The sooner we get through this ordeal, the sooner we can find our seats at the cinema.”

      And then they’d face the endless swirl of afterpremiere parties, the first having already been decided by him. She didn’t mind, for one was just like the other. Privacy was a hard-won commodity here.

      When they’d reached their plush seats at the cinema, Leila allowed herself to relax. Celebrities, movie moguls and industry professionals all moved to their seats before the lights dimmed.

      Later, as the credits rolled, she was stunned at how much Rafael had invested in this film, and not just in the technical support he’d given. As the producer in the elevator had said, every complimentary bag held Rafael’s new mobile device. They were as much the talk of the evening as the movie itself with those in the audience activating their phones now.

      “I didn’t realize they were all operational,”