The illustrious billionaire

chapter 5

paused for a moment as if seeking both the breath and energy to speak.

‘No. We can’t. We have to stop.’

Dizzy with lust and devoured by a hormonal drive for immediate

satisfaction, Rafael took a moment to comply with her request. Then he

stepped back, slightly shaken by the ferocity of his own response and

even more surprised by her apparent desire to stop.

Why would she want to stop?

His entire body aching, Rafael glanced over his shoulder towards the

path which had all but disappeared under the torrential rain. ‘Trust me,

no one is going to walk past, if that’s what’s worrying you.’

‘It’s not about anyone else. It’s about us.’

‘Us?’ The word had intimate connotations that chilled him to the bone

and dampened his libido more effectively than any rainstorm. ‘There is

no us.’

She brushed her hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand. ‘A moment

ago you were kissing me and your hands were—everywhere.’

‘And?’ He stared at her blankly and she shook her head.

‘Well—if you kiss someone, it generally means that there’s something

between you.’

The air around them throbbed with the heat that they’d created and

he jabbed his fingers through his hair to stop him reaching for her again.

‘There’s chemistry. That’s what’s between us.’

‘But why did you kiss me?’

Because he’d wanted to? Because his body throbbed and ached every

time he looked at her? Despite his experience with women, Rafael surveyed her with

something approaching incredulity. How was she managing to turn

elemental s*x into a conversation topic? He spread his hands in a gesture

of mounting exasperation, trying to rein in the ferocious surge of animal

lust that still threatened to engulf him. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I find you sexy.’

She tilted her head back and fastened him with her gaze. ‘But you

don’t like me, do you?’

Rafael clenched his jaw. Never, if he lived a million years, would he

understand a woman’s drive to question the blindingly obvious. ‘And

how is that relevant?’

‘I can’t believe you just asked me that.’ She rubbed a hand over her

face to remove the raindrops that still clung. ‘You were kissing me.’

‘And you were kissing me back.’

‘Yes.’ She met his gaze without flinching. ‘But then I stopped you. I

can’t have a relationship with someone who doesn’t like me. It doesn’t

feel right.’

Remembering the heat of her mouth against his, Rafael was about to

assure her that it had felt perfectly right, but thought better of it. ‘I

wasn’t offering a relationship.’

‘But you would have made love to me.’

His laugh held no trace of humour. Love? Sooner or later that word

had to raise its ugly head and its appearance effectively dampened his

libido and cleared the red mist from his brain. ‘It was love that made you

strip off my shirt?’

The colour poured into her cheeks. ‘I admit I was—it was—I’d never felt anything like that before.’ She moved away from him, as if she didn’t

trust herself to stand close to him and not touch him. ‘But there are lots

of reasons why it isn’t a good idea. One of which is, like it or not, that

you are responsible for my loan. It wouldn’t be right.’

‘You want me to guarantee your loan before we have s*x?’

Well, of course she did. Furious with himself for breaking his rule and

complicating the situation, Rafael felt his mouth tighten, but she shook

her head.

‘Of course not. I want you to extend my loan, yes, but not because of

—of—anything else that happens to be between us. But if anything did

happen then it’s inevitable that you’d question my reasons for sleeping

with you.’

No, he wouldn’t. He’d sleep with her and forget her. Because that was

the way he chose to live his life. He’d long since abandoned self-

delusion. ‘I’m not into analysis. When you sleep with me, I can

guarantee you that there won’t be post-mortem.’ He ran a hand over his

face to clear the water from his vision. ‘Frankly, I don’t care if we don’t

talk at all.’

Her lips parted. ‘Oh, well, that’s romantic.’

He leaned forward and planted an arm against the tree, bringing his

body close to hers again. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be romantic.’ He lifted

her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. ‘Romantic is the lies people tell to

soften the fall into bed. And I don’t tell lies. Is that what you’re going to

do, Grace? Are you going to tell all the lies that women always tell?

Because if you are, then this is the moment that you share with me that

you love me. And we both know that you don’t. That’s not what this is about. This is about physical chemistry. The sort you don’t think about.’

Something flickered in her blue eyes. ‘You’re very confusing.’

‘No.’ The irony of her statement brought a smile to his lips. ‘I’m very

straightforward. It’s everyone around me who plays the games, Miss

Thacker.’

Her chin lifted. ‘I’m not playing games, but I don’t sleep with men I

don’t know. And especially not with men who are careless about

emotions.’

‘I’m not careless. Not at all.’ He took great care. He played by one set of

rules. His own. And he’d made them for a reason. ‘s*x is s*x. It doesn’t

have to be complicated.’

She stared at him. ‘You’re telling me that you’d make love to me on

the forest floor today, and then withdraw my loan tomorrow?’

‘Love?’ Just saying the word brought a bad taste to his mouth. ‘Not

love. I didn’t say anything about love.’

Something flickered in her eyes. ‘Emotionless s*x, then.’

‘s*x … ‘He stepped closer to her and felt the chemistry spark again

like a live thing. ‘It’s an appetite, like hunger or thirst. An urge to be

satisfied.’

‘You don’t truly mean that.’ She made a distressed sound and paced

back towards the path, rubbing her damp arms with her hands. ‘I’ve

been giving you the benefit of the doubt. I told myself that you couldn’t

possibly be as cold as everyone said you were. That you’ve had a hard

time in your life and that’s bound to make things difficult.’

Rafael ground his teeth with frustration. Why did women always do that?

Why did they always try and dissect every situation down to the bone?

‘If there’s one thing that dampens my libido more than a liar, it’s an

amateur psychologist,’ he said, swinging the rucksack onto his back and

striding past her onto the path. ‘s*x is s*x, minha paixao, it’s just that

very few women have the courage to acknowledge that fact. They prefer

to dress it up in woolly emotion, bind a man with commitment and then

whine when the appetite is satisfied and the whole thing falls apart.

Which is why the divorce rate remains high.’

Now who was dissecting things down to the bone? Aggravated with her

for driving him on to topics he made a point of avoiding and astonished

with himself for not cutting her dead earlier in the conversation, Rafael

tightened his mouth and started up the path.

‘Is that what happened to you?’ Her voice came from behind him and

he turned, a growl of frustration bursting from his throat.

‘ What did you say?’

She was standing on the rain-soaked path, her blue eyes bright and

intent on his, no trace of a smile on her face, and her simple,

straightforward scrutiny disturbed him more than he could have

imagined possible.

Without understanding why, Rafael strode back to her, the anger

mounting inside him, although whether that anger was directed at

himself or the girl he couldn’t be sure.

All he knew was that he’d had enough of the conversation. And he’d

had enough of Grace Thacker. From now on he was going to block out her curves, her dimples and her sleek, silky blonde hair because some

women were just too much effort and she was one of those.

And now she was looking at him in the way women did when they

wanted you to open up and spill all sorts of deep, innermost secrets that

they could sell to the papers for an indecent amount of money.

Rafael almost laughed. What would she say, he wondered, if she knew

that the truth about him could have been sold for a small fortune?

‘I asked,’ she said slowly, ‘whether that was what happened to you.

There has to be some reason why you feel and behave the way you do.’

He swallowed a bitter laugh. Oh, there was.

But what would a woman like Grace Thacker do with the information?

No doubt use it to secure the loan she needed to continue with her

corrupt little business.

Suddenly transported back to his childhood, he glanced around the

forest but it held no fears for him now. No dark memories. In fact, it had

been his sanctuary. He’d made it that way.

‘Why do I behave the way I do? Because I’m a man, and that’s the way

men think.’ Infuriated by her determination to suck information out of

him, Rafael couldn’t keep the impatience out of his voice and heard her

sharp intake of breath.

‘I just can’t believe that you’re as cold and insensitive as they say you

are.’

‘Well, I am.’ His tone simmered with raw aggression as a black rage

descended on him. ‘Remember that before you ask personal questions

that I have no intention of answering.’Wondering what had possessed him to consider walking through the

rainforest with Grace for company, Rafael ground his teeth and turned

away from her but not before he saw the silent question in her eyes.

Women, he thought as he strode up the ancient path at a punishing

pace.

The sooner they reached the fazenda, the sooner he could expose the

game she’d been playing and end this farce. And then he’d send her

home.

Grace walked in silence, keeping her eyes on the path so that she didn’t

miss her step in the rough, slippery terrain.

But her mind wasn’t on the physical challenge that the rainforest

presented. It was on the kiss—that amazing, astonishing kiss that had

awakened her previously dormant body from sleep to a state of almost

overwhelming excitement. But the confusion caused by that steamy, erotic

encounter in the humid, leafy jungle was eclipsed by the conversation

that had followed.

And now she wished—how desperately she wished—that she’d kept her

mouth shut.

Perhaps he was right that s*x was better without conversation because

words had tainted the fragile perfection of the moment.

Words—the most deadly weapon given to human beings.

She, of all people, knew the damage that words could do and yet she’d

thrown them out carelessly, with no thought to the wounds they might

cause.

And now she was filled with nothing but regret and self-recrimination She wished she hadn’t asked if he was going to extend the loan

because he’d obviously interpreted her question as a signal that she’d

sleep with him if he gave a positive answer.

But most of all she wished she hadn’t asked the question about his

marriage. It had been personal and inappropriate, she could see that

now, but there had been something about his bitter remarks and the

rigid tension in those broad shoulders that had made it impossible for

her not to ask. Impossible for her not to reach out to him as she would

have reached out to any human being in such intense pain.

And the pain was there, she was sure of it.

When he’d stridden back down the path towards her and the

expression on his face had been so black and threatening that, for a wild,

panicky moment, she’d known she’d gone too far. And she’d been afraid.

Afraid for herself.

Afraid for him.

And then she’d seen his eyes. And what she’d seen there wasn’t

violence but bitterness, pain and cynicism and her fear had turned back

into concern and compassion.

What had caused the darkness that she so clearly saw in him?

What memories haunted his nights and kept him locked to the safe,

inanimate computer screen?

And why had he kissed her?

No matter what derisive comment he made about women’s attitude to

sex, she wasn’t so naïve and foolish that she’d interpreted their hot

jungle encounter as anything other than physical lust. She knew that chemistry existed, even though she’d never experienced its explosive

force before today. She understood that s*x could happen without love.

She understood all those things. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t

believe in love.

Never having found it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.

And never having found it didn’t mean she didn’t yearn for it.

Maybe it would never come her way, but that didn’t stop her hoping

because what sort of life was it without hope?

What sort of life was it without love?

And suddenly she understood the acres of dark emptiness that she’d

seen in his eyes. Rafael Cordeiro was a man living a life without love.

Why?

Why had he made that choice? And why did she even care? THEY walked without speaking, but were spared an awkward silence by

the chorus of birds and frogs chirping and monkeys chattering, the now

familiar rainforest sounds that provided a constant accompaniment to

their physical efforts.

Occasionally Rafael glanced over his shoulder and looked at her but

his gaze didn’t linger and she wasn’t even sure why he was checking on

her because she had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t have

minded if she’d fallen head first into the river that now bubbled

cheerfully alongside the path.

Clearly he was wishing himself alone in his rainforest hideaway.

She’d made the mistake of trying to reach out and touch his deep,

dark secrets and, like an injured predator, he’d given her a warning.

Keep your distance.

Don’t come too close.

So keep her distance she would and she wouldn’t go too close.

They’d visit the fazenda as planned, walk back to his lodge and then

he’d give her his answer about her business. And whatever that answer

was, she’d leave.

And Rafael Cordeiro with his dark secrets and his cynical view of love

and life would be part of her past.

Which was a good thing, she told herself as she balanced on a log and avoided a deep, muddy pool of water, because she wasn’t ever going to

be the sort of woman who indulged in emotionless s*x and if they

pursued this physical connection then that was what she’d be offered.

And emotionless s*x meant giving up on a dream of something more.

And she wasn’t ready to stop dreaming.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t even

realise that he’d stopped until she walked straight into him.

‘Sorry.’ Moving away from his steadying hand, she stepped back and

stared into the trees. ‘Why have we stopped?’

‘This is the beginning of the fazenda.’

They were the first words he’d spoken since his response to her ill-

timed question and there was no warmth. No emotion at all. Just a

statement of fact. Like a tour guide, trained to impart the required

information.

She glanced around herself in surprise, seeing dense jungle either side

of the path. ‘We’re still in the rainforest.’

‘The coffee is grown in the forest. The owners maintain the land

around them. They run their business in perfect harmony with nature.

Ecologically sound.’ His mouth tightened. ‘And you care about things

like that, don’t you, Grace?’

So they were back to that, then.

The hard glances and the sarcastic comments loaded with a meaning

that she had yet to interpret. Gone was the heat and the passion that

they’d shared in the pulsing heat of a rain-soaked forest. Gone was the

intimacy, however shallow.And she made no reference to it. Why would she, when she knew that

what they’d shared had been fleeting and ephemeral? A transient

lighting of the senses which had been quickly quenched by words, both

his and hers. Something less than honest because neither knew the other,

so how could anything built on such superficial grounds ever be deeply

felt?

Moving away from such dangerous and unsettling thoughts, she

played his game. ‘Yes, I do care.’ She refused to let his tone unsettle her.

‘And I know the history of the fazenda. The reason we’re prepared to pay

the price we pay for the coffee is because it’s grown in an

environmentally-friendly way. If we’d used cheaper coffee then you

might be seeing a return on your investment now.’ And perhaps he

wouldn’t be so angry. It all seemed to be about money for him. Money

seemed to be the only thing that mattered. And she suddenly found

herself wondering about his wife, although this time she did her

wondering quietly, with her mouth firmly shut.

Was that why his glamorous, high-maintenance wife had left him?

Because his focus was all on dollars, cents and profit?

‘You care deeply, don’t you, Grace?’ He was watching her and she saw

the now familiar cynical gleam return to his eyes. ‘I suggest we postpone

this particular conversation until you’ve looked round the fazenda.’

They walked onwards past creeks and streams that had been dammed

to preserve the water. Goats grazed, chickens ran loose and a group of

young children were playing a riotous game in the dust outside.

As they walked towards some buildings, a man and a woman emerged

to meet them. Their simple clothes were dusty from the soil and worn from years of hard use. Physical toil in the harsh Brazilian sunshine had

weathered the skin on their faces and hands so that it was impossible to

be sure of their age. Grace would have guessed them to be in their late

sixties but they could have been younger.

Holding out both hands, the woman greeted Rafael with warmth and

respect and he spoke in rapid Portuguese, his gaze occasionally sliding to

Grace, leaving her in no doubt that she was the topic of conversation.

Conscious of her bedraggled appearance, Grace smoothed her hair

away from her face and hoped they didn’t mind the fact that she was

such a mess. But they didn’t seem to even notice her wet clothes. They

didn’t seem interested.

Instead they listened to Rafael and cast anxious glances in her

direction, their smiles of welcome apparently frozen by whatever it was

he was saying.

Grace sighed. Whatever it was, if the words leaving his mouth related

to her, then the one thing that she could guarantee was that it wouldn’t

be anything flattering.

Although she didn’t fully understand his animosity towards her, she

could hardly fail to be aware that he wasn’t exactly her biggest fan.

Except in the s*x department, she reminded herself ruefully. On that

level, at least, she’d apparently scored points with him.

As he talked, she sensed a change in the couple and they looked at her

with a mixture of anxiety, trepidation and a touch of—anger?

Gaining the distinct impression that her unannounced arrival was less

than welcome, Grace suddenly felt awkward and touched Rafael’s arm. ‘Does it put them out, me visiting like this? Because if it does we can just

turn straight round and go home.’

‘Home?’ The mockery in his voice reminded her that, however

beautiful his rainforest lodge, she had no claim on it.

She was an outsider.

And she’d never felt more alienated from others than she did at that

moment.

‘I mean to your lodge, of course,’ she murmured, correcting her

mistake swiftly and wondering why every verbal exchange between

them felt like negotiating a minefield.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze direct and unsympathetic.

‘Your visit doesn’t put them out. But naturally it’s distressing for them.

And worrying.’

‘Why would it be distressing? Do they know that my business is in

trouble?’

But Rafael ignored her question and instead switched back to

Portuguese to continue his conversation with the couple. And although

she couldn’t understand what he was saying, he appeared to be

reassuring them about something. His reassurance appeared to have an

effect because the woman reached for his hand and gave him a grateful

look.

Mesmerised by the unexpected softening she saw in his dark eyes,

Grace watched as his strong male fingers closed over the work-

roughened hand of the old lady. Although hers wasn’t the hand being

squeezed, she knew instinctively that there would be pressure from those long, strong fingers and she took comfort from that surprising fact.

So he wasn’t entirely incapable of emotional connection, then. Not entirely

incapable of showing feeling. Not love, maybe, but something.

And not for some Hollywood ‘A’ list actress but for an old lady who

lived in the forest. Someone whose means were quite obviously entirely

different from his own.

And then he released the old lady’s hand and switched back to English

with an ease and fluency that Grace could only envy. Pushing aside the

sense of inferiority that other people’s effortless competence always

induced in her, she stepped forward with a smile as he introduced them.

‘Carlos and Filomena,’ he said quietly. ‘They farm the land along with

their extended family and a few workers who come in from the nearest

town.’

Grace glanced towards the children playing with the water barrel.

‘Those are their children?’

‘Grandchildren. Their children are out on the farm working.’

‘A real family business, then.’ Grace sensed a sudden stiffness in the

couple and then Filomena stepped forward and said something in

Portuguese.

‘She says that they are pleased you’ve come here so that they have the

opportunity to show you what they’re doing.’ There was something in

his tone that made her faintly uneasy but she’d had enough of word

games to last her the entire visit so she simply nodded and smiled to

indicate that she was equally pleased.

They led her towards the trees, talking rapidly and waving their hands and she glanced towards Rafael for a translation, trying not to notice the

way his still damp shirt clung to the width of his shoulders and the hard

muscle of his torso.

‘What are they saying?’

‘They’re telling you that the coffee is grown in shade in the forest. In

that way none of the forest is destroyed and the trees fix nitrogen in the

soil which helps the coffee bushes grow.’ He broke off as Filomena spoke

to them. ‘She says that keeping the trees prevents erosion and protects

the coffee from the harsh weather. The natural sugars increase and

enhance the flavour of the coffee.’

‘And the fallen leaves provide nutrients and help prevent moisture loss

from the soil.’ Grace smiled and nodded. ‘Please tell them that I

understand the benefits of shade-grown coffee. Every café has a wall

devoted to telling that story. People enjoy their coffee knowing that

they’re preserving a small part of the rainforest.’

‘A marketing goldmine, I’m sure.’ A flicker of contempt in his eyes,

Rafael studied her for a moment and then turned and spoke quietly to

the woman. She responded immediately with lots of hand-waving and

glances towards her husband, Filomena stepped forward.