When Da Silva Breaks the Rules

Is gorgeous billionaire Cesar Da Silva finally off the market?Reclusive billionaire Cesar Da Silva has hit the headlines! Not only are his family secrets about to be exposed, but he’s been caught kissing Lexie Anderson on the set of her latest movie, which is being shot at his imposing castillo!Publicity-shy Da Silva has certainly smashed his own rules by romancing the high-profile actress. A reliable source suggests he is helping Miss Anderson over her last heartbreak with a string of dazzling dates. And, if their chemistry so far is anything to go by, this is one match that’s bound to be explosive!Discover more atwww.millsandboon.co.uk/abbygreen

Cesar was losing it. He knew he was losing it. But he couldn’t take his mouth off Lexie’s. He’d never tasted anything so sweet. Or so wicked. The way that lush mouth softened under his, the feel of that body under his hands …

Cesar finally pulled back, heart hammering. He did not ravish women in the back of his cars. He was cool, calm, controlled. Right now he felt anything but. He could hardly see straight. His body was on fire.

Lexie was looking at him with huge eyes. She thought he’d done that on purpose. And he had—but not for the reasons she obviously suspected. He wanted to make sure there was no ambiguity about how he felt about her.

He cupped that delicate jaw. Her mouth was pink, swollen. He couldn’t help running his thumb across that pouting lower lip, feeling its fleshy softness.

‘Make no mistake, Lexie, I want you … and not just to distract the crowds. You know the truth of what I said earlier. We will be lovers for real.’

BLOOD BROTHERS

Rafaele and Alexio have learned that to feel emotion is to be weak. Calculated ruthlessness brings them immense success in the boardroom and in the bedroom. But a storm is coming with the sudden appearance of a long-lost half-brother, Cesar, and three women who will change their lives for ever …

Read Rafaele Falcone’s story in: WHEN FALCONE’S WORLD STOPS TURNING February 2014

Read Alexio Christakos’s story in: WHEN CHRISTAKOS MEETS HIS MATCH April 2014

And read Cesar Da Silva’s story in: WHEN DA SILVA BREAKS THE RULES June 2014

ABBY GREEN spent her teens reading Mills & Boon^® romances. She then spent many years working in the film and TV industry as an assistant director. One day while standing outside an actor’s trailer in the rain, she thought: There has to be more than this. So she sent off a partial to Mills & Boon^®. After many rewrites they accepted her first book and an author was born. She lives in Dublin, Ireland, and you can find out more here: www.abby-green.com

(Blood Brothers) WHEN FALCONE’S WORLD STOPS TURNING (Blood Brothers) FORGIVEN BUT NOT FORGOTTEN? EXQUISITE REVENGE

CESAR DA SILVA hated to admit that coming here had had any effect on him, but his gut was heavy and tight as he stood on the path near the grave. He asked himself again why he’d even come and reflexively his fingers closed around the small velvet pouch with its heavy weight in his hand. He’d almost forgotten about it.

He smiled cynically. Who would have thought that at the age of thirty-seven he’d be obeying urges and compulsions? Usually he was the king of logic and reason.

People drifted away from the open grave a short distance across the hilly green space. Ornate mini-mausoleum-style headstones dotted the cemetery in the hills of Athens, its grass no doubt kept generously watered in the Greek heat.

Finally there were only two men left by the grave. Both tall, of similar height, with dark hair. One had slightly darker and shorter hair than the other. They were broad, as Cesar was, with powerful builds.

It was no wonder they were all similar. He was their half-brother. And they had no idea he even existed. He saw one put his hand on the shoulder of the other. They were Rafaele Falcone and Alexio Christakos. They all shared the same mother, but had different fathers.

Cesar waited for icy rage to surge upwards upon seeing this evidence of the family he’d always been denied, but instead he felt a kind of aching emptiness. They came towards him then, talking in quiet voices. Cesar caught his youngest half-brother’s words on the slight breeze—something like, ‘Couldn’t even clean up for the funeral...?’

Falcone replied indistinctly, with a quirk to his mouth, and Christakos riposted, smiling too.

The emptiness receded and anger rose up within Cesar. But it was a different kind of anger. These men were joking, joshing, just feet away from their mother’s grave. And since when did Cesar feel protective of the woman who had taught him from the age of three that he could depend on no one?

Galvanised by that very unwelcome revelation, Cesar moved forward and Falcone looked up, words dying on his lips, smile fading. Falcone’s gaze was enquiring at first and then, as Cesar drilled holes into him with his stare, it became something else. Cold.

With a quick flick of a glance to the younger man by his half-brother’s side, Cesar noted that they’d also all inherited varying shades of their beautiful but treacherous mother’s green eyes.

Cesar glanced over them both again and then at the open grave in the distance. He asked, with a derisive curl to his lip, ‘Are there any more of us?’

Falcone looked at Christakos, who was frowning, and said, ‘Us? What are you talking about?’

Cesar pushed down the spreading blackness within him and said with ominous quiet, ‘You don’t remember, do you?’

But he could see from the dawning shock that his half-brother did, and Cesar didn’t like the way something inside him tightened at that recognition. Those light green eyes widened imperceptibly. He paled.

Cesar’s voice was rough in the still, quiet air. ‘She brought you to my home—you must have been nearly three, and I was almost seven. She wanted to take me with her then, but I wouldn’t leave. Not after she’d abandoned me.’

Cesar smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I’m your older brother—half-brother. My name is Cesar Da Silva. I came today to pay my respects to the woman who gave me life...not that she deserved it. I was curious to see if any more would crawl out of the woodwork, but it looks like it’s just us.’

Cesar cast him a cold glance. Somewhere deep down he felt a twinge of conscience for imparting the news like this, on this day. But then he recalled the long, aching years of dark loneliness, knowing that these two men had not been abandoned, and crushed it ruthlessly.

Falcone still looked slightly shell-shocked. He gestured to his half-brother. ‘This is Alexio Christakos...our younger brother.’

Cesar knew exactly who he was—who they both were. He’d always known. Because his grandparents had made sure he’d known every single little thing about them. He bit out, ‘Three brothers by three fathers...and yet she didn’t abandon either of you to the wolves.’

He stepped forward then, and Alexio stepped forward too. The two men stood almost nose to nose, Cesar topping his youngest brother in height only by an inch.

He gritted out, ‘I didn’t come here to fight you, brother. I have no issue with either of you.’ Liar, a small voice chided.

Alexio’s mouth thinned, ‘Only with our dead mother, if what you say is true.’

Cesar smiled, but it was bitter. ‘Oh, it’s true all right—more’s the pity.’ He stepped around Alexio then, before either man could see the rise of an emotion he couldn’t name, and walked to the open grave.

He took the velvet pouch out of his pocket and dropped it down into the dark space, where it fell onto the coffin with a hollow thud. In the pouch was a very old silver medallion featuring the patron saint of bullfighters: San Pedro Regalado.

Even now the bitter memory was vivid. His mother was in a black suit, hair drawn back, Her features as exquisitely beautiful as any he’d ever seen. Eyes raw from crying. She’d taken the medallion from where it hung around her neck on a piece of worn rope and had put it around his neck. She had tucked it under his shirt and said, ‘He will protect you, Cesar. Because I can’t at the moment. Don’t ever take it off. And I promise I will come back for you soon.’

But she hadn’t come back. Not for a long time. And when she finally had it had been too late. Something had withered and died inside him. Hope.

Cesar had taken off the medallion the night he’d let that hope die. He’d been six years old. He’d known then that nothing could protect him except himself. She deserved to have the medallion back now—he’d had no need of it for a long time.

Eventually Cesar turned and walked back to where his half-brothers were still standing, faces inscrutable. He might have smiled, if he’d been able, to recognise this familiar trait. An ache gripped him in the region of his chest where he knew his heart should be. But as he knew well, and as he’d been told numerous times by angry lovers, he had no heart.

After a taut silence Cesar knew he had nothing to say to these men. These strangers. He didn’t even feel envy any more. He felt empty.

He turned and got into the back of his car and curtly instructed his driver to go. It was done. He’d said goodbye to his mother, which was more than she’d ever deserved, and if there was one tiny piece of his soul that hadn’t shrivelled up by now then maybe it could be saved.

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Грин Эбби

Аннотация к произведению When Da Silva Breaks the Rules - Эбби Грин

Cesar was losing it. He knew he was losing it. But he couldn’t take his mouth off Lexie’s. He’d never tasted anything so sweet. Or so wicked. The way that lush mouth softened under his, the feel of that body under his hands …

Cesar was losing it. He knew he was losing it. But he couldn’t take his mouth off Lexie’s. He’d never tasted anything so sweet. Or so wicked. The way that lush mouth softened under his, the feel of that body under his hands …

BLOOD BROTHERS