Kidnapping the Brazilian Tycoon by Carmen Falcone Page A

would someone with enough money to purchase a small island somewhere avoid getting on a jet to meet his own family?
    Camila parted her lips, then hesitated. She brushed her mouth with her fingers and shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll tell you,” she said and turned to fluff the roses inside the vase.
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that…it must be hard for you, as a sister, to have a brother who has been so far away.” Addie stepped toward her future sister-in-law. “You were just a kid when he left, right?”
    Camila picked a rose from the vase and turned around. Her kind eyes studied Addie, then she toyed with the long stem. “Growing up, I had learning disabilities. At least I think that’s what it was. Our father prioritized manual labor over education. My underpaid public school teacher didn’t have the patience or willingness to deal with me,” she continued, her voice shakier. “Bruno had to drop school early to work as a gardener, but when he caught me crying on my walk home from school…”
    A gardener? Addie folded and unfolded her arms, restless. The image of Bruno slaving away as an average Joe made her throat dry.
    Camila sighed. “From that day, no matter how late he got home from work, he’d call me and go over my homework with me. He taught me to read,” she said with pride. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Sorry.” Camila wiped the tear with a gentle rub. “Having Bruno here after so long and planning for a wedding is too much for an emotional train wreck like me.”
    The weight of a cannonball fell on Addie’s heart. “Don’t be silly,” she managed to sound nonchalant. Another image formed in her head, and it involved a side of Bruno she had no clue existed. Could he be the caring big brother?
    Camila put the rose back in the vase. “I’m glad you’re here, Addie. Something tells me you will be a great addition to our family.”
    “Would you like more moqueca ?” Maria, the friendly cook, asked.
    Addie glanced at the delicious seafood stew. “Yes, please.”
    Maria gave her a larger portion than she would have wanted, but who was she to complain? She savored every bit of the moqueca , the strong flavor of the coconut milk and palm oil teasing her palate. After Maria disappeared into the kitchen, Addie scanned the circular rosewood table covered with a colorful linen cloth.
    Fresh salad, rice, fried plantains, and farofa de dendê , a toasted manioc flour mixture, filled the table, along with a couple of different juices and bottles of wine. But not even the well-organized and delicious banquet could mask the tension brewing between those gathered at the table.
    Leonardo, Emanuel, and Bruno sat side by side and ate in silence. On the other side of the table, there was Addie, Camila, and Sergio. The older man ate very slowly and choked up a few words here and there, although it appeared he paid close attention whenever someone made small talk. The nurse, a middle-aged lady dressed in white, often walked by to check on him.
    “I didn’t know moqueca was popular in Rio,” Addie broke the silence with what she hoped to be a safe subject. Anything to overpower the sound of cutlery and throat clearing. “I know it’s popular in the northeast.”
    Leonardo frowned and cocked his head. “You’ve been to Brazil before?”
    Crap. I’m bad at this. Her gaze darted to Bruno. He raised a cautionary eyebrow, the message clear.
    “Nearly three years ago, I went to the state of Pernambuco for a vacation.” She settled for the half-truth, only omitting she’d decided to stay there.
    “That’s where we come from,” Camila said enthusiastically. “Where did you visit?”
    Addie grabbed a piece of bread from the plate in front of her and sliced it with a knife. “Recife.” She hoped the name of the capital would be enough. Let them think she went to Recife for fun in the sun.
    “Where in the US are you from?” Emanuel, who seemed quieter than his two older brothers,