All the time she was trying not to think about Rhys, and she could think of nothing else. She thought of his arms around her and his body on hers. Had she married Rhys to help save the company, or was she using the company as an excuse because she wanted him? She no longer knew. Her desire had turned into one burning, all-consuming need. It was as though the fifteen-year-old child had been waiting for him all these years without being aware of it, and the need had turned into a hunger. She stepped out of the shower, dried herself with a soft warmed towel, put on the sheer silk nightgown, let her hair fall loose and free and climbed into bed. She lay there waiting, thinking about what was going to happen, wondering what he would be like, and she found that her heart was beginning to pound faster. She heard a sound and looked up. Rhys was standing in the doorway. He was fully dressed.
“I’ll be going out now,” he said.
Elizabeth sat up. “Where—where are you going?”
“It’s a business problem I have to take care of.” And he was gone.
Elizabeth lay awake all that night, tossing and turning, filled with conflicting emotions, telling herself how grateful she was that Rhys had kept to their agreement, feeling like a fool for what she had been anticipating, furious with him for rejecting her.
It was dawn when Elizabeth heard Rhys return. His footsteps moved toward the bedroom, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She could hear Rhys’s breathing as he came over to the bed. He stood there, watching her for a long time. Then he turned and walked into the other room.
A few minutes later Elizabeth was asleep.
In the late morning they had breakfast on the terrace. Rhys was pleasant and chatty, telling her what the city was like at Carnival time. But he volunteered no information about where he had spent the night, and Elizabeth did not ask. One waiter took their order for breakfast. Elizabeth noticed that it was a different waiter who served it. She thought no more about it, nor about the maids who were constantly in and out of the suite.
Elizabeth and Rhys were at the Roffe and Sons factory on the outskirts of Rio , seated in the office of the plant manager, Señor Tumas, a middle-aged, frog-faced man who perspired copiously.
He was addressing Rhys. “You must understand how it is. Roffe and Sons is dearer to me than my own life. It is my family. When I leave here, it will be like leaving home. A part of my heart will be torn out. More than anything in the world, I want to stay here.” He stopped to wipe his brow. “But I have a better offer from another company, and I have my wife and children and mother-in-law to think of. You understand?”
Rhys was leaning back in his chair, his legs casually stretched out before him. “Of course, Roberto. I know how much this company means to you. You have spent many years here. Still, a man has to think of his family.”
“Thank you,” Roberto said gratefully. “I knew I could count on you, Rhys.”
“What about your contract with us?”
Tumas shrugged. “A piece of paper. We will tear it up, no? What good is a contract if a man is unhappy in his heart?”
Rhys nodded. “That’s why we flew down here, Roberto—to make you happy in your heart”
Tumas sighed. “Ah, if only it were not too late. But I have already agreed to go to work for this other company.”
“Do they know you’re going to prison?” Rhys asked conversationally.
Tumas gaped at him. “Prison?”
Rhys, said, “The United States government has ordered every company doing business overseas to turn in a list of all foreign bribes they’ve paid over the past ten years. Unfortunately, you’re heavily involved in that, Roberto. You’ve broken a few laws here. We had planned to protect you—as a faithful member of the family—but if you’re not with us, there’s no longer any reason to, is there?”