In Bed With the Boss: The Brazilian Boss’s Innocent MistressThe Billionaire Boss’s Innocent BrideThe Surgeon Boss’s Bride

by Sarah Morgan

She felt a flash of sympathy that she could neither prevent nor understand and it didn’t make sense because if there was ever a man less demanding of sympathy then it was this one. But the desire to help in some way, to soothe and heal, was almost overwhelming.

  She put her hands in her lap to prevent herself from touching him. ‘Night-time is always the worse time,’ she murmured. ‘If there’s a problem then it’s magnified. There’s no distraction.’

  ‘Are you offering to provide me with distraction?’ The demons were gone and now there was only the devil lurking in his eyes. A dangerous, wicked devil that danced and seduced and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  ‘I don’t know you.’ She was telling herself as much as him and he watched her, as if reading her thoughts.

  ‘You know all you need to know.’

  And what he meant by that, of course, was that she knew everything he wanted her to know.

  And she realised that, for her, it wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted more. She wanted to know more, everything there was to know.

  How had that happened in just two short days?

  How had she come to care for this man? Because she did.

  Oh, yes, she did. ‘You’re a difficult man to understand, Rafael.’ Difficult. Dangerous. Deadly?

  ‘I don’t need you to understand me, Grace.’ He smiled at her and there was something about that smile that robbed her of her ability to think clearly. It wasn’t the smile of acquaintances or even friends. It was the smile of a lover. Intimate. Secretive. A smile that said ‘I know what you’re thinking'.

  And she truly hoped that he didn’t because her thoughts were shocking.

  She was stripping him naked again, as she had the day before, only this time the fantasy was fuelled by reality. This time she had some knowledge. She’d felt those skilled, purposeful hands on her flesh. She’d felt his hard mouth demanding submission. And she’d stroked her hands over the hard, honed flesh and muscle, now concealed by his shirt.

  She shifted in her seat and the faint narrowing of his eyes told her that he’d observed the movement. And understood it.

  He leaned forward and took her hand in his, his fingers toying with hers. ‘It’s almost painful, isn’t it, this thing between us?’

  She inhaled deeply and gave up on the food. There was too much fluttering in her stomach to even contemplate eating. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘No?’ He turned her hand, stroking her palm with his thumb, and the gentle, insistent pressure simply increased the tension inside her.

  She had to look at him and immediately regretted the indulgence because once her gaze locked with his there was no looking away. His eyes demanded that she give up all her secrets and she obviously did because he gave a slow smile of satisfaction that was entirely masculine.

  Trapped by that look, she tried to snatch her hand away. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘Like what?’ His voice sounded impossible sexy and he held her hand firmly in his.

  ‘As if you—’

  ‘As if I want to strip that glittering dress from your body and carry on where we left off in the rainforest?’ He leaned forward. ‘I do, minha paixao, and so do you.’

  There was no hiding from his meaning and she didn’t even attempt to try. ‘It would be ridiculous.’ She breathed the words to herself but they seemed abstract, irrelevant because what was between them was out there, pulsing like a living force. To deny its existence would have been as futile as resisting and she discovered for the first time in her life that there were some forces that couldn’t be resisted. ‘Yesterday you thought I was a liar and a cheat.’

  ‘Yesterday I thought you were beautiful and sexy. And I still think that today.’ His voice stroked her like a lover’s touch and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  ‘I’m really glad you believe that I knew nothing about it. But it still doesn’t mean—’ she licked her lips ‘—I’ve never—’

  ‘Acted on impulse? Followed your instincts? Why not?’

  ‘Because the world doesn’t work that way.’

  His smile was derisive. ‘And you care what the world thinks?’ ‘Yes, I suppose I do.’

  His soft laugh indicated that her answer hadn’t surprised him. ‘Even if you do it can hardly matter out here. Tonight you’re deep in the rainforest and the rest of the world is in another place altogether.’

  It was true. She tilted her head back and listened to the sounds of the night that serenaded their intimate dinner for two. She felt as though nothing existed outside this jungle paradise with its bright rainbow birds, the dense greenery and the lush, exotic plants. And there was something about the closeness to nature that deepened the intimacy that was closing in on them.

  ‘I’ve never followed an instinct that I don’t understand. I don’t know you and you don’t even talk about yourself.’

  He didn’t contradict her. ‘And that matters?’

  ‘I don’t feel safe with you.’

  The humour in his eyes mingled with something much, much more dangerous. ‘And is that what you demand from life,

  Grace Thacker? Safety?’

  The pulse throbbed in the base of her throat and her voice was hoarse. ‘Not right now.’ Right now she wasn’t thinking about safety. All she was thinking about was him. And the way he made her feel.

  ‘If you want to choose safe then you’d better leave. I want you to be sure.’

  Sure about what?

  But she didn’t even need to ask the question because the air was thick with the answer. It throbbed between them like a living force, drawing them together.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Her lips formed the words by themselves but strangely enough she had no wish to retract them. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life. And perhaps it was just being here, in the rainforest, so far removed from reality. But deep down she knew that it was nothing to do with her surroundings and everything to do with the man watching her.

  He stood up and tugged her to her feet in a purposeful movement, not roughly but in such a way as to leave her in no doubt as to his intention. ‘If you want to stop me, Grace, it has to be now.’

  He was giving her a choice, then. Or was he?

  Perhaps he knew that for her there had never been any choice. From the moment she’d seen him, standing with arrogant assurance in the doorway of the lodge, she’d been lost.

  Could he see that? Could he see the effect he had on her? ‘I want you.’ The words were out before she could bite them back but she wasn’t even sure that she would have done because something was driving her that she didn’t really understand. A basic human instinct that being in this raw jungle had exposed?

  He led her back through the glass dome and up a different set of stairs that opened into a bedroom not unlike hers. Only this one had a view of the waterfall and the forest pool, illuminated by tiny lights. She could hear the rush of the water punctuated by the insistent sounds of the forest that were becoming so familiar.

  ‘It’s amazing. It must be beautiful in daylight.’

  ‘You’ll have to tell me in the morning.’ He closed the door so that it was just the two of them and the rainforest. ‘It can be the second thing you see after you wake up.’

  ‘The second?’

  He drew her towards him, his fingers gently smoothing her hair away from her cheeks. ‘The first, minha paixao, is going to be me.’

  The breath caught in her throat and she lifted her face to his, waiting for his kiss, but he simply gave a slow, lazy smile and trailed his hand downwards to her neck, his fingers lingering on the tiny pulse that beat in her throat. ‘Not yet. Nothing as good as this should ever be rushed.’

  His touch soothed and seduced by equal measure and gradually the insistent rush of the waterfall and the night-time call of the rainforest faded to nothing. There was only him and the hot, swirling atmosphere sucking them both in.

  Grace felt her eyes drift shut as time and thought were suspended. Her heart w
as thundering and her insides were melting and he’d barely touched her.

  ‘You’re beautiful.’ He murmured the words against her throat and his fingers slid the glittering strap of her dress over her arm, exposing the curve of her shoulder. He smoothed a hand over her creamy skin, taking his time, savouring every millimetre of her flesh with the tips of his fingers. Her body hummed in response and her lips parted in a silent plea but still he didn’t touch her mouth with his.

  Instead she felt the nip of his teeth and the flicker of his tongue against her shoulder and then lower, to the soft hint of flesh that he’d exposed for himself by lowering her dress. His hands, so firm and confident, slid up her body and settled just above her waist and she gave a soft gasp as he dragged both thumbs over the tips of her breasts. Her nipples strained, seeking his attention, and he gave a low laugh of satisfaction and slid his fingers inside the clinging fabric, just as he had in the forest. Only this time it was different.

  This time nothing was stopping them.

  The atmosphere pulsed with a heat that was almost unbearable and she gave a low moan as the burning in her body intensified to almost unbearable proportions.

  ‘You feel so hot,’ he groaned, desire thickening his words and his accent, ‘so beautiful.’

  She hadn’t even felt his hands on the zip of her dress but they must have been there because a slither of silk descending from her body to the floor announced to her fevered brain that she was now wearing only her lace panties.

  ‘Rafael …’ Consumed by an excitement so intense that it was almost terrifying, she lifted a hand to his cheek and he turned his head to kiss her hand, his eyes holding hers.

  And then his mouth finally claimed hers.

  His kiss was hot and passionate and without moving his mouth from hers he lifted her in his arms and placed her in the centre of the bed. He came down on top of her, his movements swift and possessive as he slid over her hips and shifted her under him.

  She felt his weight, the pressure of his body on hers and her excitement increased because she was suddenly so aware of his physical strength. He lifted his head and rolled away from her, placing his hand on her quivering abdomen in a gesture that was unquestionably possessive.

  As if to ensure that there was no mistake, he gave a slow smile. ‘Mine,’ he murmured softly as he moved his hand downwards in a purposeful movement. ‘All mine.’

  And she couldn’t have argued with him even if she wanted to because she felt the hot, skilful slide of his fingers over her warm flesh—felt them move downwards in a remorselessly sensual exploration until they finally came to rest on the almost transparent wisp of silk that still protected her. His hand lingered for a moment, teasing, prolonging the agony, and then, just when she thought he was never going to touch her where she wanted him to touch her, his fingers moved and he removed the wisp of silk protecting her feminine secrets. The last barrier.

  She gave a shiver and a gasp as a burst of almost agonising anticipation engulfed her.

  He looked at her and then his gaze moved slowly downwards as he studied every part of her, his attention lingering on the golden shadows revealed by his fingers.

  ‘Rafael …’ She gasped his name and he shifted his body and lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue and teeth grazing that sensitive part of her. Sensation shot through her body and she slid her fingers through his hair, wanting and needing to touch him, too.

  With a low growl he turned his attention to her other breast, his tongue tasting and teasing until her pelvis burned and her hips wouldn’t stay still, so desperate was she for satisfaction.

  ‘You’re incredibly sexy and responsive,’ he groaned, moving slightly so that he could kiss her again. His mouth was hot and demanding and she felt the rough strength of his body pressing her back against the bed. Dizzy from his kiss, engulfed by sensation, Grace slid her hand down his back, feeling smooth flesh and hard male muscle.

  She couldn’t wait.

  She didn’t want to wait.

  But he shifted his weight again, just slightly, and slid a hand downwards to the core of her femininity. She felt the skilled and gentle exploration of his fingers, his touch so sure and knowing that excitement ripped through her. Oblivious to everything except his control over her responses, she lay in a state of dazed excitement as he drove her to a peak of such delicious arousal that she was just desperate for release. Her hips moved and shifted, her back arched in silent invitation and she moaned his name in a plea for gratification.

  And he gave a low groan of acknowledgement and slid his fingers deep. ‘You are incredible, minha paixao. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman.’

  She wasn’t even listening. It was as if nothing could penetrate her brain except sensation and she couldn’t concentrate on anything except the movement of his hands on her body.

  And then the gentle, almost lazy, seduction ended and he shifted again. She felt his weight pressing her down onto the bed, his movements increasingly urgent as he repositioned her and parted her legs with his hand. The rough hairs on his thighs brushed against her skin and then she briefly felt the sensation of his velvety smooth erection brushing against her before he lifted her hips and entered her with a purposeful thrust.

  Shocked by the sudden splinter of pain that stabbed her, she parted her lips in a gasp but his mouth silenced her and he kissed her, capturing every cry and every breath as he drove deep into her body, sending waves of frantic excitement rippling through her as he introduced her to an intimacy that was as alien as it was intoxicating. The pain was already a distant memory and she was aware only of throbbing masculinity, delicious sensations and an electrifying pleasure, as the initial discomfort was replaced by a burning fire that bloomed white-hot. She felt something deliciously unfamiliar build inside her, driven by the pulsing heat of masculine thrusts. He moved in a seemingly perfect rhythm, his body urging hers to respond, and she did.

  Even without the slide of his hand encouraging her response, she found herself wrapping her thighs around his body, offering herself. And he took what she offered with an almost violent hunger, his sexual demands so great that she felt the room spinning and her heart pounding. It was electrifying, rousing and totally all-consuming and she held on, unsure where he was taking her but trusting him not to let her fall. Sensation devoured her like a greedy animal and she felt her body throb and sing until she was blind with need.

  And he took her higher still, winding her body tighter and tighter until she teetered on the edge of something deliciously dangerous and unfamiliar from which there was no going back.

  And with a sudden increase in tempo he sent her over the edge into a thrilling and terrifying vortex that consumed her body and threatened to engulf her forever. Her body contracted around his and she saw flashes of light, heard him mutter something in harsh tones and then felt the hot liquid burst of his own release. And then there was nothing but sensation, so agonisingly prolonged that if he hadn’t been holding her she would have been terrified.

  She clung to his shoulders and eventually the world around her calmed. She felt the pounding of his heart and the slick warmth of his skin against hers as they both struggled to recover sufficiently to move.

  But he didn’t move far. Instead he just rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she was still wrapped around him.

  Still dazed and shocked by the intensity of the experience, Grace lay unsure what to say. And it soon became clear that speech wasn’t necessary because he clearly had no desire to indulge in conversation.

  Instead he closed his hands over her hips and moved her so that she straddled him. Her hair flowed onto his chest and he gave a slow smile and lifted his hands to her face.

  ‘That was amazing, minha paixao.’

  They were surrounded by the heat, sounds and rhythms of the jungle but all she could focus on was the hardness of his body, the touch of his hands and her own, burning excitement driving her on.

  She couldn’t get eno
ugh of him.

  The connection between them was so intense, so perfect, that it was as if nothing outside the rainforest existed for either of them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GRACE awoke to the sounds of the rainforest all around her and opened her eyes with a smile on her lips.

  Was there any better place to wake up?

  She was on her side and Rafael was lying next to her in a careless sprawl, one of his legs trapping her to the bed, as if to prevent her escape. But she had no plans for escape. At that moment she knew that there was nowhere else she’d rather be. No other man she’d rather be with.

  Perhaps it was because they were both a little damaged, she thought, unable to resist stroking a hand over his shoulder. His skin was bronzed, a legacy of the sun and his Brazilian heritage, the muscle clearly defined and unmistakably masculine.

  He had an incredible body and it was obvious to anyone fortunate enough to look at him that he was a very physical man. A man with strength who pushed and tested himself.

  ‘You’re staring at me.’

  She hadn’t even realised that he was awake. She moved her gaze from his shoulders to his face and saw that he was looking at her. His eyelashes, so thick and dark, all but concealed his expression and suddenly she felt impossibly shy.

  ‘It must be late. We ought to get up. Your pilot will be here soon and I still have to gather up all my things.’

  ‘My pilot is in Rio. Your things are all here. Maria brought them over last night.’ He gave a lazy, satisfied smile. ‘This is your bedroom now.’

  What was he talking about? The night was over.

  And somehow in broad daylight she felt so much more self-conscious than she had last night in the mysterious dark.

  As if sensing her confusion, he pushed her onto her back and slid his hand over her abdomen and on to the curve of her hip in a gesture that was unmistakably possessive. ‘I cancelled the helicopter. There’s nothing to get up for.’

  She felt a flicker of disquiet. ‘You cancelled it?’

  ‘Of course.’ He delivered that confirmation in a tone of arrogant assurance. ‘Did you really think that I was going to let you just fly home?’