Not one.
He drew deeply from his whiskey, hoping the meeting hadn’t been canceled. His brother was late, not that that was unusual, but he didn’t see any lone men who could pass for a smarmy lawyer.
His angry thoughts were interrupted when a silver cone of frites that he had ordered for Thereza arrived. Destin scanned the hallway and saw no sign of her. He hoped she was all right. He popped one into his mouth, then slid them across the bar, offering one to his new friend. “I know Americans love french fries.”
She glanced at the fries and then at him, bemused.
With a guilty smile, she took one. “How did you know I was American?”
“Your accent. I’ve done some business there, in California.”
“California is beautiful.”
“But you’re not from there.”
She met his gaze, and a tiny grin touched the corners of her mouth. “No.” He watched her lips as she sipped her wine.
Destin waited for her to say more after she put down her glass, but he waited in vain. My, she was reserved. Maybe she’s married, he immediately thought, but her pink-tipped fingers were bare of jewelry. Could she be traveling alone? He’d heard of American women coming to Brazil for plastic surgery, but couldn’t possibly see where she would need any.
“Maybe I should guess?” She only glanced at him. “You’re from New York, it’s your first time in Brazil, and you’re here on a spa vacation.”
She smirked and turned to him. “Yes. Yes. And no.”
“No vacation? You’re here on business? That’s too bad,” he said after she gave a brief nod. “Brazil is the perfect place for pleasure.”
Her brows rose. “Is that why you’re here? Pleasure?”
He wished, wondering briefly if her skin was as soft as it looked. “No, I have business, too.” He tossed back the rest of his whiskey when he thought of how his brother had tried to hide this meeting from him. Destin couldn’t wait to see the look on Elliot’s face. “I’m meeting with a lawyer.”
“Uh-oh, are you in trouble?”
He smiled. “Nothing like that. I don’t like lawyers.”
She turned her body toward him, which pleased him. “Really? Why?”
“I’ve found them to be unfeeling, soulless and greedy. Every last one of them.” Her eyes flashed, and he mentally patted himself on the back for holding her attention.
“I know a lot of nice lawyers who would take offense to that.”
“Well, I’m sorry for your friends, but I have yet to meet a lawyer who isn’t out to get rich while destroying someone else’s life.”
Her gaze lowered, and she turned her body back toward the bar. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Unfortunately true.” He signaled for another whiskey. “What is it you said you do?”
“Umm... I’m a...yoga instructor.”
That made sense. She looked fit.
“Did you just look at my legs?”
Merde. He had. And not just a quick peek; he’d stared a little. “For business purposes only. If I were going to do yoga, I would hire you. You look flexible.”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes widened, but she laughed a little, which he liked the sound of.
Mon Dieu, he really was out of practice with women. Where was his whiskey? “I meant, if I were a woman looking for an instructor.” He paused. “I think Thereza does yoga,” he added quickly, gesturing toward the empty seat. He had no idea if the young blonde did yoga.
“Is your girlfriend okay? She’s been in the restroom a while.”
“She’s probably on the phone. And she’s not my girlfriend,” he murmured distractedly. The woman turned her head to him slowly and tipped her face toward his. There were sparks in her dark eyes again—exquisite.
“Really? Does she know that?” Her icy tone was palpable.
Destin never rose to the touchiness in a woman’s voice. In a former life, he had kissed hands, opened doors and led women by the smalls of their backs. His mother had raised him and his brother to be gentlemen. He’d been married to a sweet, stunning lady.
The pain of the memory pulled him back into the present. He was no longer that young man.
And this woman and her commanding tone were stirring something dark in him. Leaning in, he swiveled his amused gaze to her annoyed one. “She knows.”
As if on cue, Thereza slid in between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her giggles mingled with his audible sigh as he peeled her off him and wrestled her onto her stool, enticing her with the fries.
He peered over Thereza’s head at his beautiful new acquaintance, who was now acting like she didn’t know him. She sipped her wine, ignoring them, yet he caught the tiniest clench in her jaw. He berated himself for not finding out her name.
Destin saw her head turn toward the entrance and pause. She clutched her small bag and popped off the stool. He watched as she walked toward the crowd of people at the door, curious to see whom she was meeting. Then his thoughts shifted when he spotted Elliot. Finally!
Destin stood and signaled to his brother. The surprise on Elliot’s slim face was priceless but short-lived as his attention was diverted by...the yoga instructor?
Elliot Dechamps strolled into the restaurant, handed his coat to a server and assaulted both of Nicole’s cheeks with kisses. His blond hair was slightly longer than in his picture, but he was just as handsome and stylish in a black button-down open at the neck and slim-cut trousers.
“Enchanté, Ms. Parks. I hope Anton has taken excellent care of you.” He didn’t apologize for being late. Instead, his head swiveled toward the bar, and he frowned and nodded at someone. Then he called Anton over and requested that he change their table.
Elliot turned to her. “It looks my brother, Destin, is unexpectedly joining us. And he seems to have brought a friend. I assure you, this is not how we usually do business. My brother can be—” He searched for a word. “Impetuous.” With a tight smile, Elliot waved toward the bar.
Nicole’s mind ran over the details of the dossier that she had read about the Dechamps brothers. Just a few years out of Oxford, they’d successfully opened a branch of their family’s winery. At the time, winemaking in Brazil was still experimental, but they quickly rose to mainstream success. Destin was the eldest and the driving force behind the creation of the wines and the agricultural operation. Elliot was the business mind, and took on the finances and sales.
A fire had taken the winery almost four years ago, along with Destin’s wife.
So sad, she thought, as she turned toward the bar and—
No.
Oh, no...
Whiskey in hand, drunk girlfriend struggling to keep up, her lawyer-hating barfly was patting Elliot on the back. Elliot turned to her.
“Miss Parks, my brother, Destin. Destin, Miss Nicole Parks, the attorney from Kingsley’s.”
Destin slid a glance at his brother, and Nicole was sure he was going to say something smart. Instead, he stretched out his hand, his expression unreadable. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Parks.”
“Lovely to meet you, as well, Monsieur Dechamps.” She slipped her palm into the warmth of his hand. Her pulse jumped. She chalked it up to being flustered.
They