As we head toward where the concert and fireworks are happening, the area becomes more crowded. Street vendors hawk their wares, and kids beg their parents to buy them stuff. Bright, Brazilian music pours from nearly every doorway.
When we reach a broad piazza, there's a whole band there, fronted by a gorgeous group of scantily clad dancers in mardi gras costumes.
I turn to check Liam's expression and discover he's watching them with intense interest.
"Big dance fan, are you?" I ask.
He nods with a serious expression. "Their years of training and discipline are clear. They’re athletes. I respect that."
"Also, their boobies shake when they move."
"That, too."
I laugh and tug on his arm. "Come on, big guy. You can buy me a drink."
I drag him to a nearby stall where they're selling something that looks and smells a lot like Sangria.
"Two please," Liam says as he hands over some money.
The woman smiles at him as she takes the cash, but then she does a huge double take. She immediately starts giggling and nudges the woman beside her, who's pouring the drinks.
"O garanh?o," she whispers to her friend, who promptly spins around to stare at Liam.
The second woman gasps and covers her mouth. "Sim!"
Liam drops his head. "I think our anonymity just went out the window."
The women hand over our drinks, and by the time we've walked to the other side of the square, there's a steady murmur of, "O garanh?o," as we pass.
When we've polished off our drinks, we stop at the front of an upmarket hotel and ditch our empty cups into a trash can. Liam looks around warily. I think he's as surprised as I am we're not being mobbed. Most fans go berserk when they realize who he is. Seems like the Brazilians are content to point and whisper about him from afar.
"I knew being anonymous was too good to last," he says, putting on his sunglasses. "Still, it could be worse."
I look inside the window of the hotel to check out the decor, but it's the reading material on a stand in the lobby bar that catches my eye.
It just got worse.
"Uh ... Liam ..."
"Maybe we should head back," he says. "If the mood changes, we could be in trouble. I feel too exposed here."
He's not wrong about that. "Liam—"
"What does o garanh?o mean, anyway?"
I take his hand and pull him over to the window. "It means the stallion."
He frowns. "Really? That's weird."
"Not when you see what I'm seeing."
I point to the magazine rack where there are various newspapers and magazines in both English and Portuguese, and every single one has a picture of Liam on the front cover, naked. And hard. His erection has been covered by a black rectangle, but the size of it explains why all the headlines are screaming about O garanh?o.
As soon as Liam registers what he's seeing, he goes whiter than he did over the pee tube. "Ohhhh, shit."
TEN
Not-So-Silent Night
"Goddammit." Liam's face goes from white to red as he stands in the lobby bar and flicks through the pictures in one of the magazines. As angry as he is about seeing himself naked, he's absolutely furious they've also printed pictures of me.
I'm not thrilled about that part, either.
"How the hell did someone get these?" he asks, flipping the pages hard enough to tear them. "No one knew where we were. I kept it a secret for that very reason."
"I hate to say it, but could Luis and Alba have—?"
"No." He shakes his head. "No way. Their references were impeccable. There must have been someone else on the island. A fucking bottom-feeding pap who somehow sniffed us out."
I sink onto the couch beside us, shocked and shattered. I didn't think it could get much worse than when we were photographed kissing in the alley when Liam was still pretending to be engaged to Angel. But wow, was I wrong.
Back then, I was the anonymous other woman. Now, my identity is crystal clear.
Not only are there naked pictures of me, there are several of me fellating my well-hung fiancée. They're from an angle that blocks the details of what I'm doing, but anyone with a brain can work out what's going on. They must have been taken the day we were at the lake.
"I saw him," I say, feeling so drained my voice has zero emotion.
Liam sits beside me. "Who? The pap?"
I nod. "Remember when I mentioned seeing someone near the altar? I bet that was him."
"Goddamn fucking parasitic asshole." He crushes the magazine into a ball and throws it into the trash. "Stay here, okay? I have to make some calls."
He stalks over to the other side of the lobby and pulls out his phone.
I'm so preoccupied, I don't even notice the waitress standing beside me until she says, "Something to drink, senhorita?"
I nearly kiss her in gratitude. "God, yes, please."
By the time Liam returns, I'm halfway through a bottle of red wine. He grabs the glass I've filled for him and drains it in three gulps.