In bed with the boss

The helicopter swooped low over the trees and Grace felt her stomach

roll.

Beneath her lay acres and acres of lush tropical rainforest, the canopy

forming a dense green umbrella that sheltered and concealed the exotic

mysteries of the forest floor. At any other time she would have been

captivated by the wild, breathtaking beauty of her surroundings, but she

was far too tense to think about anything except the meeting that lay

ahead of her. The meeting and the man.

What on earth was she doing dressed in this ridiculously hot, scratchy

suit, flying over the top of the Brazilian rainforest to throw herself at the

mercy of a man who apparently didn’t know the meaning of the word?

Rafael Cordeiro.

Brilliant, dangerous, damaged. So many words came to mind when

thinking of him, none of them tame or soothing. Shockingly wealthy and

wielding more power than kings and presidents, he was reputedly so

clever with figures that the financial press had likened him to a walking

computer. Which didn’t bode well, Grace thought gloomily as she

clutched at her seat, given her allergy to technology.

Beneath her, the trees parted and a swollen river snaked through a

deep gorge and plunged over rocks in an explosion of white froth. ‘He has properties all over the world—’ she turned to the pilot, seeking

answers to the questions bubbling in her mind ‘—so why is he living all

the way out here?’

The pilot kept his eyes on the treetops. ‘Because the world won’t leave

the man alone. He likes his privacy.’

Which fitted with what she’d heard about him. Ruthless, unemotional,

unsentimental—the list of unflattering adjectives went on and on.

Considering the man never gave interviews, there was no shortage of

information on him. ‘He’s a loner?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call him soft and cuddly, if that’s what you’re

asking, not that women seem to mind. Being bad and dangerous just

seems to bring them flocking. That and the power. Women can sniff out

power from a hundred paces. Power and money.’ The pilot fingered the

controls and then glanced towards her. ‘You don’t look like his usual

type.’

His usual type?

Wondering how anyone could possibly mistake her for a billionaire’s

girlfriend, Grace almost laughed. ‘I have a meeting with Mr Cordeiro.

His company put up the original investment for my business.’ And that

investment had changed her life. ‘He’s what they call a business angel, but

I expect you know that, given that you work for him.’

‘Angel?’ The pilot convulsed with laughter and the helicopter swooped

alarmingly close to the treetops. ‘Rafael Cordeiro—angel?’

‘It’s an expression. It means that he invests in small businesses that

interest him.’ And he’d been interested in hers. Until recently. The sick

feeling in her stomach was suddenly back and Grace lifted her briefcase onto her lap and stroked the surface, trying to solder her fractured

confidence.

The pilot was still laughing. ‘Angel. I don’t know what he does to

make his money but I can tell you one thing,’ he fixed his gaze on the

horizon and fiddled with the controls, ‘the man is no angel.’

Refusing to let him frighten her, Grace straightened in her seat. ‘I

don’t believe everything I read in the papers.’

‘Obviously—’ he glanced towards her and the smile on his craggy,

weathered face was faintly pitying ‘—or you wouldn’t be here. I can see

you’re a gutsy girl with a mind of your own and that’s good, it will get

you a long way out here in the jungle.’

‘There’s nothing gutsy about attending a business meeting.’

‘That would depend on who you’re doing business with.’ The

mountains rose and dipped and the helicopter swooped through a green-

clad valley. ‘And where. Not many people have the courage to visit the

wolf in his lair.’

Despite her determination to keep an open mind, Grace felt her mouth

dry. ‘You call him the wolf?’

‘Not me. That’s what everyone else calls him. I just call him the boss.’

His hands shifted on the controls and the helicopter lost height.

Losing her stomach and her nerve, Grace closed her eyes briefly and

tried not to also lose her lunch. She’d never been any good on roller

coasters. ‘I’m sure Mr Cordeiro is a very reasonable man.’

‘Are you?’ He fixed his eyes on a spot far below them. ‘Then you’ve

obviously never met him. Hold on. We’re going down.’ ‘Going down?’ Grace stared at him in alarm, her worries about

sickness and the dangers of Rafael Cordeiro momentarily eclipsed by

that less than reassuring statement. ‘Do you mean we’re landing or we’re

crashing?’

But the pilot didn’t answer. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw

clenched as he played with the controls. For a moment it looked as

though they were going to plunge into the trees and then, at the last

minute, a small landing pad revealed itself and he lowered the machine

down, landing like a giant insect in what seemed like a ridiculously

small gap between the trees.

‘Not crashing, then.’ Grace gave a wobbly smile and let out the breath

she’d been holding. ‘I had a mental image of carnage.’

‘If you’re meeting with Cordeiro then there’s going to be carnage.’ The

pilot flicked a switch in front of him. ‘I’ve seen grown men in tears after

five minutes with him. Take my advice and fight your corner. If there’s

one thing the boss hates, it’s wimps. Welcome to the Atlantic rainforest,

Miss Thacker. One of the most endangered little ecosystems on our

planet.’

‘You’re leaving me? Here? In the middle of nowhere?’ Grace turned

her head and looked out of the window and only then did she see the

lodge—a building that seemed to consist of nothing but glass domes and

smooth, weathered wood, it blended into the forest so cleverly that it

seemed almost to have grown naturally amongst the trees. ‘Oh.’ She

looked at the walkways suspended high above the forest floor. ‘It’s

stunning. Amazing.’

The pilot was laughing to himself. ‘Rafael Cordeiro—angel.’ Still chortling, he wiped a hand over his forehead and removed the beads of

sweat. ‘Out you get and keep your head down until you’re clear of the

blades. I’m flying back to Rio to pick up a package and then back to São

Paulo.’

Grace sat glued to her seat, unwilling to abandon her last link with

civilisation. ‘You’re not waiting? He said I could only have ten minutes

…’

And it was completely ridiculous to have travelled all this way just for

ten minutes, but what choice did she have? It was that or give up and

there was no way she was giving up. Her one hope was that he’d agree

to give her more time because she knew that ten minutes was never

going to be enough time to dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into.

‘If there’s anything left of you when he’s finished, I’ll come back and

pick up the pieces. Take the walkway over there to the left and,

whatever you do, don’t stray off the path. This is the jungle, not a theme

park. Watch out for the wildlife.’

‘Wildlife?’ She’d been too busy worrying about the meeting to even

think about wildlife. She glanced dubiously into the dense forest that

surrounded them. Some parts were in total shade whereas in others the

sun penetrated the thick canopy of trees and was channelled onto the

forest floor like spotlights. Was it her imagination or was it all moving?

‘You mean insects?’

He gave a wicked smile. ‘Over two thousand different species at the

last estimation. And they’re just the ones we know about.’

Trying not to think about all those legs scurrying towards her, Grace

smoothed her skirt over her knees and wished she’d worn trousers. ‘And snakes?’

‘Oh, yes, there are snakes—’ his grin widened as he glanced towards

her thoroughly inadequate shoes ‘—and then there are the giant

anteaters, jaguars and the—’

‘OK, I think I’ve heard enough,’ she said breathlessly, interrupting him

with a shaky smile. Any moment now she’d be clinging to his arm and

begging him to fly her home. ‘I’m sure Mr Cordeiro wouldn’t live here if it

were that dangerous.’

The pilot threw back his head and laughed. ‘You obviously don’t know

the first thing about him. He lives here because it’s that dangerous, baby

doll. He has a low boredom threshold. Likes to live life on the edge, so to

speak.’

Baby doll? The careless way he’d diminished her to nothing irritated

Grace sufficiently for her to forget her nerves. All her life she’d been

patronised and underestimated. All her life people had doubted and

dismissed her. And she’d proved them wrong, over and over again. She’d

fought against the odds and she’d succeeded.

Until now.

Now she was in danger of losing everything she’d worked for.

And she wasn’t going to let that happen.

This was probably the most important fight of her life and she was

going to win. She had to win. And to win she had to forget that she was

probably the worst person in the world to be given the responsibility of

talking numbers with the Brazilian billionaire with the computer brain.

She had to forget everything except the consequences of losing. And the people depending on her. If she failed then they lost their jobs, it was as

simple as that.

If Rafael Cordeiro called in his loan, then it was all over.

The humid, oppressive heat wrapped itself around her like a thick,

suffocating cloak and she pushed a damp strand of hair away from her

face, her eyes drawn upwards, following the straight lines of the trees

that rose to such impressive heights. It was like being in a remote, exotic

paradise and it was hard to remember that cities like London and Rio de

Janeiro even existed. ‘Isn’t he afraid, living out here?’

‘Cordeiro?’ The pilot chewed on a piece of gum and gave a grim smile.

‘He isn’t afraid of anything.’

Knowing that if she heard any more about the man she wouldn’t have

the courage to face him, let alone fight her corner, Grace stumbled out of

the helicopter and discovered that her legs were shaking. At that precise

moment she would have been hard pressed to say whether she was more

afraid of the jungle or Rafael Cordeiro.

In a world obsessed with celebrity and image, he treated the notion of

both with something approaching contempt, rejecting every invitation to

talk about himself. And he didn’t need to, because everyone else did the

talking for him. The papers were full of curvaceous blondes who’d been

persuaded to ‘tell all’ for the right amount of money. And so the whole

world knew about his relentless pursuit of his billions, his prowess as a

lover and his determined refusal to indulge in ‘happy ever after'.

Once. Once he’d done that and the news of his glamorous wife’s

departure from his life after less than three months of wedded bliss had

filled the newspapers with stories that had lasted longer than the marriage.

He’d been impossible to live with.

He’d ended their relationship by email.

He was only interested in making money. And more money.

The speculation had been endless but if any of it was to be believed

then Rafael Cordeiro was little more than a machine and she knew, she

just knew, even before she had to fight for her business, that he was

going to be just the sort of man that brought out the worst in her.

She wouldn’t look at him, she promised herself. If she didn’t look at him

she wouldn’t become tongue-tied or stammer. She’d just pretend that she

was in her small sitting room at home, talking to the mirror as she

always did when she had an important presentation to memorise.

Grace felt her stomach lurch again and this time the feeling of sickness

that enveloped her had nothing to do with the helicopter and everything

to do with her past. At times like this—times that really mattered—the

memories rolled up behind her like a giant wave, waiting to engulf her.

For her this was the ultimate test. And she wouldn’t fail. She just

couldn’t.

Too much was at stake.

There was no reason to be afraid of Rafael Cordeiro, she assured

herself as she stroked a hand over her straight, formal skirt and forced

herself to move forward onto the wooden walkway that was suspended

above the forest floor.

His personal life, no matter how dark, wasn’t her concern. This

meeting was about business and, whatever murk hovered around the man, he was a businessman, like her father. When she showed him her

plans for taking the business into profit, he’d be positive. He’d change

his mind about calling in the loan. She would save everyone’s job and

then she could fly home and leave the jaguars, the snakes and the

billionaire Brazilian businessman to their jungle hideaway.

The tropical heat made her suit stick to her body and suddenly she

realised just how woefully ill-prepared she was to meet this man. She

wasn’t even comfortable in her clothes. Stooping to free the spindly heel

of her shoe from the careless bite of the wooden planks beneath her feet,

Grace clutched the briefcase in her hand and suddenly wished she’d

gone over the figures one more time in the helicopter.

But what difference would that have made? With the help of her

father, she’d committed them to memory. There was nothing in her

briefcase that wasn’t already fixed in her mind.

Jerking her shoe from the jaws of the walkway, she regained her

balance and straightened.

And saw him.

He stood directly in front of her, as dark and dangerous as anything

that might have prowled out of the jungle, his body completely still, his

eyes watchful.

And he was watching her.

Entirely unprepared for the physical impact of the man, Grace ceased

to breathe. The helicopter, the rainforest and all her problems just

seemed to melt into the background and she was conscious only of him.

His tarnished reputation had caused her mind to conjure up physical images that were so far removed from reality that for a moment Grace

couldn’t do anything except stare, as hundreds of women had

undoubtedly stared before her.

His eyes locked on hers with the lethal accuracy of a deadly weapon

and the breath left her body and every thought was sucked from her

mind. For a wildly unsettling moment she couldn’t remember anything

about herself. She couldn’t remember what she was doing here. Her

body felt strangely lethargic and warmth as thick as treacle spread

slowly through her limbs.

‘Miss Thacker?’ The hard bite of his deep, masculine voice was

sufficient to wake her from her dreamy contemplation of his manly

attributes and she gave a little start, desperately hoping that he hadn’t

noticed her embarrassing reaction.

So much for being cool and businesslike, she thought. And so much for

her plan not to look at him. His physical presence and his film-star looks

demanded attention. As she stood there gaping, it was a struggle to

remind herself that this man was said to be ruthless and cold-hearted.

For her, that wasn’t a winning combination of character traits.

Looking into his deep-set, cynical eyes, she decided that there was

something about his cool scrutiny that made him more menacing and

intimidating than all the jungle predators put together and she knew in

an instant that his pilot had been telling the truth about one thing—this

man was no angel.

Forcing her legs to move, she walked towards him, her briefcase in

one hand, the other seeking the reassurance of the rough rope handrail.

Even without the benefit of billions of dollars, Rafael Cordeiro would have attracted women. His hair was blue-black and swept back from a

face that was as hard as it was handsome. The golden sheen of his

bronzed skin betrayed his Brazilian heritage and the soft fabric of his

casual shirt clung to shoulders that were wide and powerful.

She watched for his reaction to her arrival but he revealed nothing.

His mouth didn’t shift into a smile and his eyes, so dark and brooding,

showed no sign of welcome. It seemed that he was as unfriendly as he

was handsome and the way he was looking at her made her want to

sprint back up the walkway and leap into the departing helicopter.

If she hadn’t known better she would have thought she’d upset him in

some way but she knew that wasn’t possible. How could she possibly

have upset him? He’d never even met her before. His animosity was a

reflection of his personality, rather than their relationship. He just wasn’t

a people person. And clearly he wasn’t about to make an exception for

her.

And it didn’t matter, she told herself firmly.

She didn’t need him to like her. She just needed him to agree not to

withdraw his finance. Keeping that in mind, she took the last few steps

until she was standing directly in front of him. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet

you, Mr Cordeiro.’

His mouth tightened and his eyes gleamed with impatience. ‘This isn’t

a social visit or a children’s party, Miss Thacker. I don’t want or expect

polite. I don’t do small talk or pleasantries. I don’t care about the

weather or the nature of your journey. If you find that approach to

business challenging, then you’d better leave now.’

And a good afternoon to you, too, she thought, trying to hide her mounting dismay.

Suddenly she wanted to do precisely as he suggested. Staring into

those deadly, dark eyes, she really, really wanted to leave. But the

helicopter was already far above them and the reason for her visit was

still safely stowed away in her briefcase. She couldn’t leave. She had a

job to do.

People depending on her.

‘I can do facts and figures,’ she said quickly, hoping that he couldn’t

see that her legs were shaking. ‘I have all the documents in my briefcase.

Everything you’ll need to help you make a decision.’

‘I’ve already made a decision. My answer is no.’ His jaw was

roughened by dark stubble and she watched as a muscle flickered in his

lean cheek.

‘But you made that decision before you had a chance to talk to me.’

She wiped a damp hand over her skirt, refusing to allow him to squash

her natural optimism. ‘I’m hoping that once I’ve explained what’s

happening, you might rethink.’ ‘Why would I do that?’

Unease blossomed to life inside her. ‘Once you see the figures and our

plans for the future, I thought you might change your mind about

withdrawing the finance.’ She watched his face hopefully, searching for

something—anything—that might indicate that he was receptive to

further negotiation on the topic. Anything that might indicate that she

hadn’t wasted her time coming here.

But he didn’t answer. He gave her no reassurance or encouragement.

No hope at all. He just watched her and from behind her in the trees

came a sharp wail, followed by what sounded like maniacal laughter.