The illustrious billionaire

chapter 4

must be very—disappointing.’

‘We spent too much on the refurbishment.’ Grace watched as he drank,

unconsciously following the movement of his throat with her eyes. ‘I

paid a building company to do what I did myself in the first café. They

cost more than I’d budgeted. It was a mistake but it isn’t one I’ll make

again.’

‘No.’ His gaze lingered on her face. ‘You won’t.’

The tension in the atmosphere overwhelmed her and she put her fork

down. ‘You’re going to say no, aren’t you? And it’s just because I haven’t

increased your investment yet.’ Emotion bubbled up inside her. ‘I

haven’t lost your money, either. You haven’t lost anything. You’re a

billionaire—this investment is nothing to you. But it’s everything to me

and the people who work for me.’ She pushed her plate away, suddenly

feeling too sick to even contemplate eating. ‘Why invite me to stay and

visit the coffee farm if you’re just going to say no?’

He didn’t smile. ‘You still have time to change my mind, Miss Thacker.

And I know that the family who own the fazenda would like to meet you

and hear what you have to say.’

‘Hear what I have to say about what?’

She stared at him, her expression blank and uncomprehending. He

made it sound as though she were going to stand up and give evidence.

‘Your business, Miss Thacker. As they are your sole supplier, your

business is their business. Your fortunes are inextricably linked.’

‘That’s true.’

This man held her future in his hands and at that moment the future looked precarious. She should have been using every last ounce of

brainpower to try and understand him so that she could find ways to

change his mind.

And yet she was finding it almost impossible to concentrate. Instead of

being crisp and businesslike, all she could do was notice tiny irrelevant

details. Like the tangle of dark chest hair just visible at the open neck of

his shirt, the movement of his hands—decisive and confident. And then

there was his mouth. There was something about the sensual lines of his

mouth that constantly drew her attention—something wholly masculine

that hinted at an extremely physical nature. Grace suddenly remembered

the pilot telling her that women flocked around him.

At the time she’d dismissed his assessment as a natural consequence of

wealth and power, but now she realised that it was something else

entirely, something to do with the very essence of the man.

Rafael Cordeiro was full-blooded Brazilian male. He throbbed with

concentrated, full-on s*x appeal and masculine supremacy. If he’d been

penniless, women would still have flocked. And sharing the same space

as him made her immediately aware of their differences. Aware of her

femininity.

She was so mesmerised by him that it was only when a cup of coffee

was put in front of her that she realised that her plate had been

discreetly removed.

Forcing herself to concentrate on something other than him, she lifted

the cup to her lips, sniffed and gave an appreciative sigh. No matter

what the stresses, coffee always soothed her. ‘That has to be the best

smell in the world.’‘I’m glad you think so. That coffee comes from the local fazenda that

supplies your business.’

She sipped. ‘It’s delicious.’ Perhaps the owners of the fazenda would

add their plea to hers because if her business closed down then they’d

have to find a new buyer for their coffee. ‘I’m really looking forward to

my visit.’

‘Good.’

‘Well—’ she placed the cup back down on the table ‘—we seem to

have spent the entire evening talking about me, which is very boring.

What about you? Were you born and bred in Brazil?’

‘I don’t understand what possible relevance my heritage can have on

the survival of your business,’ he said softly, his accent strangely

thickened. ‘Take my advice and concentrate on the things that matter.’

‘I just wondered about you, that’s all.’

‘I never talk about myself. Remember that.’ He rose to his feet in a

lithe movement and she had the distinct impression that her simple

question had troubled and unsettled him.

‘Why? Because if I find something out you’d have to kill me and then

eat me?’ She made the joke in a pathetic attempt to raise a smile from

him but there was nothing in his face that wasn’t bleak, dark and cynical

and Grace allowed her own smile to die. ‘I’m not a journalist or a gossip,

Mr Cordeiro. And I don’t think any of the tabloid newspapers would be

interested in my visit to your lodge.’

His powerful body was taut, as if she was treading on a subject that he

loathed. ‘Be ready early, wear something that dries easily because this is a rainforest and you’re likely to get wet. Extremely wet.’

‘No four-inch heels, then.’ Noting the forbidding, rigid lines of his

mouth, she sighed.

His body language was stating clearly that nothing had changed

between them, despite the fact that they’d spent an evening in one

another’s company. There was no softening and no reassurance.

She might have been given an extension on the ten minutes but it was

clear that she wasn’t expected to interpret the gesture as encouragement.

But if he had no intention of extending her loan, why bother taking

her to see the fazenda?

Looking at the grim set of his lean, handsome face, she felt her insides

lurch. She didn’t know what was going on in his mind but she was

willing to bet that it was nothing good or gentle.

Wound up by the conversation, Grace slept badly and all around her

the rainforest intruded. It was alive with sounds, squawks, howls, chirps

and the occasional growl that made her wish there was glass between

her and the treetops. And when she did doze, she slept lightly, her head

full of images of an arrogant Brazilian billionaire with a tormented past

and a dark, controlling personality.

At one point she gave up on sleep and wandered over to the window,

discovering that it overlooked the smooth glass dome that housed his

office. And he was there. Even in the darkness of the night he was at his

computer, the phone trapped between his cheek and his shoulder, eyes

fixed on the screen. He sprawled in the chair, the sleeves of his now

rumpled shirt pushed up past the elbows and his jaw dark with stubble.So being in the rainforest didn’t stop him working, then? Didn’t stop

him steering his slick, impressive corporation to still more dizzying

heights.

He might be hidden away in the jungle but he was still well and truly

connected to civilisation.

Why couldn’t he sleep?

What was the cause of the hardness she saw in his eyes?

The questions mounted as she stood there watching and then finally

she withdrew, feeling as though she was intruding on a private part of

his life. After all, if he didn’t choose to go to bed and rest, that wasn’t

her business, was it?

He wasn’t exactly the sort of man who would welcome the offer of a

listening ear.

She slid back into bed, pushing aside images of glossy black hair and

an arrogant male profile.

When she finally woke from the fitful doze that had replaced sleep, it

was raining. A steady downpour soaked the trees outside her room and

dampened the sounds but the air was still muggy and oppressively

warm.

Wondering whether one ever became accustomed to the suffocating

heat, she dressed in her light combat trousers and a simple white shirt,

slipped her feet into her hiking boots and tied her hair back.

What would he say, she wondered, if he knew that she was far more

comfortable in the boots and trousers than she’d been in the suit and heels?

He probably wouldn’t believe her. Clearly he had strongly felt prejudices about women. Where had they come from? And would his

unfavourable judgement of her s*x reflect on her?

Determined to think positive, she stared into the mirror and gave

herself a pep talk.

It was a new day. Yesterday was gone and she had this one, whole day

in which to change his mind about extending her loan.

One more day to persuade him that maintaining his investment in her

business was a good thing for everyone. Although why he was so

concerned about what must be for him a minuscule amount of money,

she didn’t understand.

Was it really all about money for him? Or was there something else

lurking in those dark, brooding shadows? Something that he didn’t share

with strangers.

Something that kept him awake deep into the night.

He was talking on the phone again when Maria showed her into his

office and she stood in tense, salient anticipation as he concluded what

was obviously a business conversation. He spoke in short, clipped tones,

delivering orders in an authoritative style that made her feel sorry for

the person on the other end of the phone.

Did anyone like working with him? Or did they all spend their lives in

a state of nervous tension?

When she had meetings with her team they slipped off their shoes and

curled up on sofas with mugs of tea. Everyone gave their opinion and

argued loudly.

She gave a wry smile.But her business wasn’t exactly thriving, was it? Perhaps she ought to

go to her room and practise developing a more autocratic style.

He ended the call and looked at her. ‘What—no suit? No heels?’

He obviously thought she was some sort of fashion clothes-horse and

his comment confirmed her suspicion that he was probably used to

women who shopped and never dropped. She decided to keep the

conversation businesslike. ‘You told me to dress for the jungle. When

does the helicopter arrive?’

‘We’re not using the helicopter, Grace.’ His voice was silky smooth.

‘We’re walking. I hope those boots of yours aren’t for show because

you’re about to be tested.’

Was that supposed to frighten her? She almost laughed. What he

didn’t know was that her whole life had been spent being tested. Why,

she wondered, did everyone in the world always expect her to fail? Making

a mental note not to utter a single word of complaint, she lifted her chin.

‘Fine. Test away. If you’re waiting for me to collapse then you’re going

to be waiting a long time.’

‘Good, because I have no desire to scrape you off the jungle floor or

drag you from the coils of an anaconda.’

‘What is your problem?’ She looked at him in genuine bewilderment.

‘You want me to fail, don’t you? You want me to make a fool of myself.

Why? Just because my company hasn’t made you enough money? Is it

really that important?’

He studied her for a moment and then bent and retrieved two

rucksacks from the floor. ‘It’s a two-hour walk, providing the rain

doesn’t cover the path.’ He thrust a rucksack into her hands. ‘Let’s go. We’ll eat breakfast on the way.’

He hadn’t answered her question but she was left with a horrible

sinking feeling that she was going to discover the answer soon enough.THE RAIN FELL STEADILY and Rafael trudged up the path, occasionally

casting a glance over his shoulder to check that Grace was with him. A

reluctant smile touched his mouth as he saw her plodding behind him,

her blonde hair now soaked and sleek against her head, the rain turning

it from bright summer wheat to rich, old gold. Her clothes were

saturated and clung to her body, revealing every line and contour of her

slender frame.

Slender but with curves in all the right places.

He should have put her in front, he thought idly, so that he could at

least have admired the view while they walked.

Instead of which, she was the one looking at him. Occasionally he

intercepted a curious glance, as if she couldn’t quite work out what he

had planned for her. As if she couldn’t work him out and he found her

frank, appraising stare profoundly irritating.

And he was feeling something else as well. Something a thousand

times more powerful than curiosity or irritation.

Chemistry. Electric, fiery chemistry that snapped the air taut and

made his body throb in a vicious response that was entirely s****l.

Which all went to prove that the male libido was no judge of

character, a fact that he’d learned a long time before.

With a shake of his head and a cynical smile, he continued to walk,relying on hard physical exercise to dampen the almost painful reaction

of his body.

And to her credit, at least she wasn’t a moaner. So far he hadn’t heard

a single comment about blisters or broken nails, wet hair or insect bites.

He’d expected her to c***k or at least show signs of nerves or exhaustion

but she just kept on going, planting her feet firmly in front of her. And

on the few occasions when she’d slipped on the increasingly muddy

path, she’d regained her balance and glared at him, as if daring him to

patronise her with an offer of help that they both knew would be

delivered with condescension.

Even when they’d had to cross the river and she’d slipped on the

glassy boulders and fallen neck-deep in the water, she’d ignored his

outstretched hand. Instead she’d dragged herself bodily over the rocks

until she’d reached the other side. Watching her brush an insect away

from her neck with an impatient flick of her hand, he suddenly had a

strong feeling that her performance was driven by something far

stronger, deeper and more powerful than a reaction to his comment

about her suit and high heels. Something that came from deep inside

her.

What was she trying to prove? And to whom?

He already knew everything that he needed to know about her.

All the figures pointed to the fact that she was a liar, a cheat and a

fraud.

So why did he keep turning his head to glance at her?

Why was he so fiercely aware of her? She was bedraggled, messy and horribly uncomfortable, but still she

walked. Occasionally she paused to squint into the trees but it wasn’t

fear he saw in her eyes, but interest.

‘What’s that?’

He paused and followed her gaze, looking through the tangled vines

wrapped around tall, dignified trees that stood straight as soldiers.

‘What?’

‘Up there.’ She brushed damp hair out of her eyes and pointed. ‘That

red bird. It’s beautiful.’

He studied her face, wondering if this was all part of her act. But her

blue eyes were fixed on the blur of red feathers in the branches above

and when she turned to him there was a smile on her mouth.

‘You don’t know, do you?’ Her eyes teased and mocked as she adjusted

the rucksack on her back. ‘This is virtually your back garden and you

can’t name it.’

‘This isn’t a nature tour,’ he said roughly, glancing up as a c***k of

thunder splintered the air above them and the rain intensified. ‘We’ll

shelter for a moment.’

He pulled her under the shelter of the nearest tree and she pushed her

soaking hair away from her face, her eyes gleaming with laughter, and

he had a powerful feeling that she was actually enjoying herself.

‘What’s the point in sheltering?’ Drops of water clung to her lashes and

spilled down her cheeks like tears. ‘Once you’ve fallen in the river, you

can’t get any wetter. I’ve reached saturation point.’ As if to prove it, she

twisted the edges of her shirt between her hands and chuckled as the water dripped to the ground. ‘See what I mean?’

They’d been walking for over an hour. She had to be tired but she

hadn’t once complained and Rafael felt a flicker of reluctant admiration.

Greedy and deceitful she undoubtedly was, but you had to give her

credit for being tough. Offhand, he didn’t know another woman who

would have cheerfully discarded their high heels in favour of boots and

then coped with the rainforest without a word of complaint.

But she didn’t dare complain, he reminded himself, determinedly

reining in the almost vicious reaction of his body. She was still hoping

that she could talk him out of his money.

Angry with his own response, Rafael turned to look down the path but

in only a matter of seconds his gaze was drawn back to the girl.

What was it about her?

What was it about her that stirred him, even though she had

absolutely no qualities that he admired? What did she have, this golden-

haired English girl who was so lacking in morals?

She was leaning with her back against the tree. Her eyes had drifted

shut as she breathed in the scent of the rainforest and there was

something almost shockingly sensual about her transformation from city

girl to forest dryad. Her flushed cheeks were damp and drops of water

clung to the soft curve of her mouth and she seemed to blend with the

nature that surrounded her. It was as if she were part of the forest, put

there to tempt man.

And tempt she did.

Hot waves of lust engulfed him as he dragged his eyes away from her mouth and allowed his gaze to travel lower.

The rain had rendered her white shirt virtually see-through and he

was given a tempting view of firm, high breasts and n*****s clearly

defined as they strained against the wet fabric. The heat inside him grew

and his eyes slid lower still, past her narrow waist and down to the point

at which her trousers settled on the wholly feminine curve of her hips.

Her trousers were muddy and there was a tear in one of the legs, her

boots were battered, but he couldn’t ever remember being so hot for a

woman.

Something dangerous stirred inside him and he stood for a moment, in

the grip of a lust so powerful and basic that it bordered on the primitive.

All around them were sounds of the forest and falling rain but here, in

the shelter of the tree, it was just the two of them.

And perhaps she felt his gaze because her eyes opened slowly and she

looked at him. Wariness gave way to curiosity and then to something

else entirely—something that they both felt and shared.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The air heated and crackled and that same chemistry that had been

present from their first meeting sparked into life, sizzling the air like a

high-voltage cable.

His resolve to wait until their business was concluded before shifting

their relationship on to a more intimate level evaporated in a flash of

primal heat.

Acting on the most basic of instincts, Rafael stepped forward and

brought his mouth down on hers. The s****l connection was instant and he met her gasp of shock with the demands of his mouth. His body

pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree and he felt her lips

part under the pressure of his. She made a strange sound in her throat

and then her arms were around his neck, clasping, holding on.

His hands were on her hips, on that narrow band of flesh that bridged

the gap between her trousers and her shirt. Her clothes were damp but

he could feel the heat of her flesh burning against his as he stroked a

hand over her narrow waist and then lifted it upwards to find her breast.

Through the wet fabric he felt the hard jut of her n****e against his

seeking fingers and felt her body shiver in a response that matched the

intensity of his. Impatient to be closer still, he slid his fingers inside the

flimsy fabric and touched warm, silky skin.

The heat between them reached flashpoint and she cried out, her

mouth leaving his for a moment as her body strained closer. And then

her lips were under his again and her hands moved to his chest, her

fingers sliding and fumbling as she wrenched at the buttons on his shirt,

parted the soaking fabric and touched him properly for the first time.

Sounds of rain and jungle life enveloped them but he heard nothing

but her soft gasps and his own rough breathing as they kissed, creating

magic that isolated them from their surroundings.

His tongue explored the intimate secrets of her mouth and Rafael

dropped his hands to the zip of her trousers, ready and prepared to strip

her naked. s****l hunger flared through his body, but just when he

thought he might explode with the sheer intensity of that primitive urge,

her hands closed over his.

‘No.’ The word was barely audible as her mouth slid from his and she