Rio – 1978

Ivy and Julian were in Rio de Janeiro attending a droll business dinner reception. It was the same old drill. Mr. and Mrs. Julian Crane representing Crane Industries: smile pretty, shake a few hands, blah, blah, blah.

After pretending they were blissfully happy for the required two hours, they marched out of the country club, climbed into their limo without a word to each other.

Twenty minutes later, as fate would have it, a faulty radiator in the limousine left them stranded in front of a Samba club. The driver dispatched for another car but informed the Cranes that it would be at least an hour before a replacement car would arrive.

Julian quickly suggested to Ivy that they escape the heat by taking shelter in the Samba club. “I know the thought of mingling with the locals appalls you but being made of ice you really have no choice but to acquiesce because you’ll melt in the sultry night air.”

“Shut up, Julian.” Ivy huffed out of the limo. She froze when she saw the lively club before her.

“Come along, Ivy, they won’t bite unless you encourage them and my God…what are the odds of YOU doing that?” Julian rolled his eyes.

Cinching her creamy-white Italian lace wrap tightly around her body, Ivy pursed her lips and followed Julian inside.

The throb of the samba music rattled their bones as they stepped into the colorful club. Julian grinned, the place reminded him of his Studio 54 days. “Fantastic,” he moaned. “How about a dance, Ivy? You do know how to samba, right?”

“Has the heat damaged your brain? I’m getting a drink.” Lifting her chin, she hurried over to any empty seat at the bar.

Julian frowned outwardly and inwardly. “I guess that’s a no.” He plopped next to her at the bar. “Dois Caipirinhas por favor.”

Ivy’s eyes darted around the erotic scene. Everyone in the place looked radiant as if kissed by the sun. They were smiling, laughing…kissing each other. Couples were hiding in dark corners doing more than kissing she suspected.

Julian removed his bow tie and jacket, unfastened the first two buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

Ivy pulled her lace wrap tighter around her body.

“Don’t tell me you’re cold?” Julian huffed as he slapped money on the bar and told the bartender to keep the change. The bartender accepted the generous tip with smile and handed over two sugary lime cocktails.

“I’m not cold, I’m just being modest. Some of the women in here barely have tops on.” She took the icy drink in her hand and sipped it cautiously.

Laughing, Julian raised his glass. “It’s the 70’s and we’re in Rio during Carnival.” He gulped his drink. “I fully expect to see a virgin sacrifice before the night is out.”

Ivy rolled her eyes.

His tone softened. “Just one dance, Ivy. I feel like dancing. You might like it and a passionate samba would surely warm you up if you’re chilly. So what do you say? Let’s have a little fun.”

“I said, no.” She buried her face in pale green of her drink.

Slamming his drink on the bar, Julian rose from his seat. “I’m going to the men’s room.” Crossing the dance floor, Julian couldn’t help but get aroused from the sweaty women brushing up against him as they gyrated to the pulse of the music. Glancing over he saw Ivy sulking at the bar. He cursed his father for putting him in this marriage. What more could he do? He tried. He tried over and over but she rarely warmed up to him. How could he have charmed dozens of women with minimal effort but yet Ivy treated him like he had the plague.

Out of the darkness sauntered over a delicious Brazilian woman wearing a strawberry pink blouse and long white skirt. Her jet-black hair was pulled neatly into a bun and her smile was that of an angel. In broken English she propositioned him. “You want to dance sexy mister? For one hundred American dollar you can have any kind of dance you want.”

She was a hooker? She looked far too refined to be one. Sighing, he drank in her sensuality. He was desperate enough. She was certainly gorgeous enough and no doubt quite talented. Glancing over at Ivy, he made his decision. “No.” He shook his head. If he consorted with a prostitute in front of Ivy surely she’d never give him a chance. Against all odds, he clung to the dream that Ivy would eventually soften.

After taking care of business, he returned to his seat at the bar. “Did you miss me, darling?”

She flashed a wry smile. “I was beside myself with worry.”

The bartender plunked a second round of drinks in front of them.

Ivy picked up hers. “See, I was so devastated from you leaving my side, I ordered another drink to sooth myself.”

He was starting to regret passing up the hooker.

As Julian chugged his cocktail, Ivy snapped, “ugh, would you look at that!”

Julian was surprised to find her pointing to an elderly American businessman approaching the hooker that had just propositioned him.

Ivy scoffed, “as if that lecher has a chance with such an obviously well-mannered lady. Men are pigs.” Except for Sam of course. He was perfect in every way.

Julian choked on his lime. “Darling, I’ll bet you a shot of tequila and a samba that she lets him pick her up.” Talk about a sure thing. Now would Ivy take the bait?

“And what do I get if I win?” She raised a brow. “Which I will.”

“I’ll write you a check for hundred thousand dollars and you can shop till you drop tomorrow.” He praised himself on his quick thinking. There was no way she’d pass up the opportunity. The only time she showed any passion was when she was with Ethan or shopping.

“It’s a sucker’s bet but you’re on.” She held out her hand.

Taking her silky hand in his, he brushed it against his lips while locking eyes with her. “I can’t wait to dance with you, my darling.”

Ivy recoiled her hand. His kiss had sent an unwanted shiver of delight through her body.

Certain of his impending victory, Julian ordered two shots of tequila and waited to claim victory.

Watching the scene unfold before her eyes, Ivy sat speechless. The woman accepted the man’s invitation to dance without blinking.

“Here you go, darling.” Julian handed her the shot glass. “Cheers.” He tapped his to hers.

A bet was a bet. Taking the glass, Ivy drank down the bitter liquid and dotted her pink frosty lips with a bar napkin. “That’s awful.”

“The dance will be anything but.” Grinning ear to ear, he guided her to the dance floor.

“I’ve never danced the samba,” she curtly confessed. Not only was she out the one hundred grand, she had to go through with this crazy dance too. Her lips fell deeper into a frown.

In her ear, Julian murmured, “don’t worry, I’ll lead you. Just relax feel the rhythm of the music.” Relaxing and feeling…they were two concepts he wasn’t sure she could relate to but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

When Julian locked his arms tightly around her, Ivy struggled with the feelings that his gentle touch aroused within her lonesome body. Why couldn’t it be a waltz that would hold them at arms length? Why such a passionate dance?

Julian pressed his body to hers and fought to control the fire building deep inside him. How long had it been since he was this close? Alas he couldn’t even remember. “Let yourself go, Ivy.” He sped up the pace of their steps.

After fifteen minutes of clinging to Julian to keep up with the Latin beat, Ivy felt her hair slipping out of its upsweep. The liberating music, the sweltering room and the alcohol she had consumed over the evening were setting her free.

Julian reached up and pulled the gilded clip holding Ivy’s hair in place. A second later, her white blond locks cascaded over her shoulders and framed her flushed cheeks. “That’s better,” he whispered as he breathed in the sweet aroma of her perfume.

Her body began to betray her mind. Relaxing against him, she glimpsed the desire in his eyes. Simultaneously it terrified her and thrilled her. “Julian…”

“Yes, Ivy.” He let his eyes fall deeper into her shimmering blue ones as he hands wandered over the curves of her luscious body.

“When does the dance end?” They had been out on the dance floor for what surely was close to a half-hour.

“When the band takes a break.” Luckily they had just started a new set before he won the bet. “Are you getting warm?” The question rolled off his tongue in a hopeful tone.

“Y…yes.” She prayed her eyes didn’t give away her secret. Her body was burning for a deeper touch.

Curling his fingers around the edges of Ivy’s lace wrap, Julian murmured, “why don’t you take this off, darling.”

Trying not to gasp, she let his fingers slip underneath the wrap and lower it off her shoulders.

Julian tossed the garment off to the side of the dance floor. “If we lose it, I’ll buy you a better one tomorrow.” He pulled her closer and his eyes focused on the white spaghetti straps of her dress. “Hell, I’ll buy you a lace shop in Florence. Ivy…I’ll buy you anything your heart desires.”

The gasp she had tried so desperately to suppress finally escaped when she felt his warm hands traveling over her bare back. “Julian…” She began the protest but didn’t finish. She couldn’t. His mouth had covered hers in a velvet kiss. Once again her body betrayed her as her lips parted and welcomed his tongue into her mouth. Her hands were moving too, one over his back and one in through his hair. Was it the music? The heat? The primal need for physical companionship? Whatever it was it was getting stronger by the second.

“Ivy,” he groaned as he covered her neck in steamy kisses. “Share my bed tonight.”

Her mind screamed no but the words ‘Julian’ and ‘yes’ were the only ones that fell out of her mouth.

Moments later they were outside, hurrying toward the limousine that had arrived a short time ago.

Before climbing into the limo, Julian pulled the driver aside and ordered him to put the staff at the villa on alert. He requested they arrange a romantic scene because tonight was the first time in six months he even got close to an opportunity with Ivy so he had to make it count.

Inside the car, the driver had taken the liberty of pouring two glasses of champagne. The bottle of Dom was a peace offering from the limo service after the breakdown and delay. Losing the Crane account would be a disgrace.

Ivy, reclined against the cushions, was already drinking bubbly when Julian took a seat. “May I join you?” He coiled his fingers around the stem of her glass and took a sip. “You don’t mind if we make this a loving cup, do you?” Her eyes were swimming with emotion. Would she change her mind? The best way to prevent that he figured, was to win over her body. Once her body was fully engaged, her mind would have little say in the matter.

Tipping the glass of amber liquid, Julian spilled a few chilly drops on Ivy’s chest, one of the drops plummeted between her cleavage and disappeared under her dress. His eyes boldly raked her over and then he whispered, “sorry about the spill, allow me.”

The warmth of his mouth on her flesh sent a delicious shudder through her already heated body. As Julian traced the path of the bubbly she dug her nails into the cushions of her seat. She had to stop this before it went too far. Only eighteen months had passed since Ethan was born. There was still time to figure out a way to leave Julian and win back Sam. But Sam wouldn’t want her back, not after what she did and deep down she knew there was no way out of the marriage. This was her life now.

Julian’s fingers tugged down a strap of Ivy’s dress, allowing him fully access to one of her sumptuous breasts.

Her defenses, weakening, she moaned, “Julian…” She wanted to yell ‘stop’ but instead she drove her hands through his hair and guided his head toward her heaving chest. When his tongue caressed her swollen nipple she arched into his body. Tonight it felt undeniably good to have a man instead of memory loving her. Another series of moans trickled out of her mouth.

Moving in for the kill, Julian spiraled his fingers up Ivy’s leg, under her dress and explored her thighs. She writhed beneath him, eager for him to touch her and when her legs parted ever so slightly, he slipped his palm over the damp satin of her panties.

The dormant sexuality of her body woke like a bear after a winter of hibernation. All at once she was pulling his face to hers, covering his mouth with a ravenous kiss.

The limo lurched to a halt and they parted breathless. Julian returned Ivy’s strap to its proper place and took her hand. No words were exchanged; their eyes did all the talking.

Holding her hand, Julian guided Ivy up the cobblestone path of the villa. Jorge the butler was at the door to greet them. “Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Crane, the master suite is ready for you and should you require anything else tonight do not hesitate to ring.”

“Thank you, Jorge.” Julian flashed the man a smile and whisked Ivy off to the massive and beautifully decorated master suite. Since arriving in Rio three days ago, she had spent her time in the second bedroom and hadn’t even peeked at the suite. He knew she’d love its opulence and having it bathed in candlelight and fresh cut tropical flowers would only add to its appeal.

Ivy gasped when she stepped inside the magnificent room.

“Only the best for you, darling. Only the best.” After shutting the door, he stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “It’s still not half as gorgeous as you.” His lips dropped to the silky expanse of her neck and when he kissed her, he felt her relax against his chest.

It was a scene out of one of her romance novels. An exotic locale, a room bathed in sensuous candlelight and the man holding her wanted her more than anything or anyone. Quickly she fell into the fantasy and yielded to the searing need her body had craved for months.

Moving the straps of her white dress off her shoulders, Julian let the garment cascade down over the curves of her body. “You’re so beautiful Ivy.”

She closed her eyes.

While gliding his tongue over the rim of her earlobe, Julian slipped his fingertips under the pearl-white satin of Ivy’s panties. He felt a shiver run through her body and when she moaned aloud with erotic pleasure, he knew there was no turning back. “Let me make love to you, Ivy.”

“Yes,” she surrendered in a sigh.

Carrying her over to the bed he placed her gently in the center of the gold satin sheets. Her white-blond hair fanned out over the pillows and she looked with an erotic angel. Standing at the edge of the bed he began unbuttoning his shirt while kicking off his shoes.

“Let me help you,” Ivy murmured as she crawled and knelt before him. Her fingers grabbed for the buttons and she worked feverishly to rid him of the shirt.

When her hands smoothed over his chest, his passion intensified. It was one thing for her to allow him access but to have her reach out and initiate a selfless touch…thrilled him. “Oh…Ivy.” Placing his hand behind her back, he eased her against the gilded sheets.

When Julian covered her body with his, the tease of his arousal electrified her. He was real. This wasn’t a fantasy. He could give her what she craved. Her red nails swirled over his back as they shared a slow, drugging kiss. “Yes…make love to me.”

They were the words he longed to hear from his wife. His fingers slid down her hip and he curled them around the edge of her satin panties. “Darling, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you right now.”

Moments later the rest of their clothes were strewn about the floor and Ivy graciously welcomed her husband into her body. “Yes,” she groaned at the pleasurable sensations assaulting her. His kiss, his touch, his passion while making love to her…it was real… and it felt magnificent. “Julian…” As her desire raged she dug her ruby red nails deeper into his flesh. “This feels so good I’m…”

“Let yourself go, Ivy,” he growled in her ear while wrapping her thigh higher around his waist.

***********

Ivy nuzzled into her husband’s embrace, her body tingling with satisfaction while Julian ran his fingers through his wife’s hair and tenderly said, “darling, we’re due to leave Rio tomorrow but we have no pressing engagements at home so how about we stay for a few more days? Or would you rather fly off somewhere else? Bora Bora is lovely this time of year.”

“So I’ve heard. Perhaps we should go there.” Another exotic locale…more of the royal treatment…why not? Feeling sated she was in an agreeable mood.

“I’ll call and make the arrangements first thing in the morning.” His heart soared at the prospect and he covered her mouth with a grateful kiss. Her interest in the trip and the steamy kiss stoked his fire once more.

************

The next morning Julian awoke to an empty bed.

After pulling on a pair of gray silk boxers and his black silk robe, Julian padded out of the bedroom. Spotting Jorge, he anxiously inquired, “have you seen my wife?”

“Yes, Mr. Crane, see was on the beach a few minutes ago.”

What a relief, he thought she had run away. Julian hurried outside. “Ivy?” She was kneeling in the sand, staring at the ocean…and crying. “Ivy, darling. What’s wrong?”

“Go away!” She barked. “I don’t want to see you!”

Confusion tore through Julian as he knelt down next to his sobbing wife. “I don’t understand.” He reached out to take her in his arms and comfort her.

“NO! Don’t touch me!” With the backs of her hands she swiped the tears from her cheeks and jumped to her feet. “I’m going to the airport in an hour. I’m returning to Harmony.”

“What?” Julian chased her. “But we made plans to go to Bora Bora. What’s going on? Last night we…”

“Last night was a MISTAKE!” Ivy shouted over the crash of the ocean waves. “I don’t want to go to Bora Bora or anywhere else with YOU!”

Julian’s heart sank leaving plenty of room for his bruised ego and anger to rage. “Good riddance then!” He grabbed her arm and snarled in her face. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss you. I’ll have another woman in my bed before your jet taxis.”

Ivy fell speechless when she saw the pain in her husband’s eyes.

Forcefully Julian shoved her out of his grip. “The only reason I bedded you last night was out of boredom and pity. You were so tightly wound that I thought if you didn’t get laid soon, your head would explode. You’re a frigid, heartless bitch and I’m stuck with you. STUCK!” Pointing toward the villa, he exploded. “GO! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU! AND DON’T EXPECT ME HOME ANY TIME SOON!”

Ivy charged into the house and to her room. Collapsing on the bed in a pile of tears, she wailed. “I’m so sorry.” She was sorry for betraying Sam and their love. She was sorry for giving Julian hope and then yanking it away. The pain shot so deep, she was sorry for even being born. Then her eyes floated to the dresser and the picture of Ethan she had brought with her. “Ethan,” she whimpered. “I have Ethan to live for…my son. Our son, Sam.”

Rising to her feet, she quickly gathered her belongings.

********

Julian walked along the water’s edge until he could no longer see the villa. Hoping if it was out of sight, he wouldn’t be reminded of last night. It didn’t work. Sitting in the sand, he stared at the endless sea in front of him. What was wrong? What upset her so? What was always upsetting her? There was never any explanation. Would he ever get one? How long would he have to wait?

An hour later he returned to the villa. Jorge greeted him and offered him a glass of iced tea.

“Is she gone?” Julian glanced around.

“Yes, sir.” Jorge averted his eyes. “About ten minutes ago.”

Julian glared at the glass of tea. “Bring me a scotch…a double.”

“Right away, sir.” Jorge hurried off to fulfill the request.

Sinking into a cushy chair, Julian rubbed his hands over his face. He could have Jorge call and prevent the jet from taking off. Then he could rush to the airport and ask her to stay. To give it…him…a chance.

“Here you go, sir.” Jorge extended a glass. “Will there be anything else?”

After taking a deep breath, Julian curtly replied, “no.” Julian tilted the crystal glass and began to douse his pain.

**********

As the plane taxied down the runway, Ivy wept into a pile of Kleenex. “I’m sorry, Julian.” She felt awful about last night. About leaving.

When the wheels lifted off the runway, she released a heavy sigh and a calm washed over her. Pulling out her locket, she popped it open and loving gazed at the two photos. Soon she would be home. Home with Ethan…and with Sam.