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Satisfied that he was well in control of the situation, he turned his attention back to the string of phone calls that were awaiting him.
Feeling slightly shaky after her meeting, Grace followed Maria, the housekeeper, up the winding wooden stairs to her bedroom. She didn’t know whether to be relieved that her ten-minute deadline had been extended or worried that she’d be spending more time in the company of Rafael Cordeiro.
She’d expected him to be tough and ruthless. After all, that was his reputation, wasn’t it? It was just that she hadn’t expected him to be quite so cold and intimidating.
But it was probably her fault, she thought gloomily. After all, there was no arguing that her company accounts were less than impressive. And he wasn’t a man who made allowances for naïvety and inexperience. He wasn’t a man who made allowances for anything.
Grace glanced upwards, wondering how far up the staircase went. To her right were windows, offering tempting views of the forest from different heights, to her left a carved wooden handrail. They seemed to be climbing up to the sky.
At least more time would help her plead her case, she thought as she walked upwards. She’d have a chance to elaborate on all her plans for the business. Given time, she was sure that she could show him that, whatever she lacked in experience, she made up for with sheer determination and hard work.
She’d been expecting ten minutes in which to present her case and now it seemed that she’d have considerably longer.
She should be happy, shouldn’t she? Not nervous.
Wondering why he’d suddenly changed his mind, she suddenly realised that they’d reached the top of the staircase. It opened straight into a large room, two sides of which were open to the forest.
Realising that they were level with the treetops, Grace walked across to the carved wooden balcony, which prevented any occupants of the room plunging down to the forest floor. Thoroughly enchanted, she turned to the housekeeper with a smile. ‘It’s really beautiful. Like being in a tree-house.’
A seven-star tree-house.
Even though it had been designed to blend in with nature and provide an enviable peep into the mysteries of the rainforest, no luxury had been spared. The room was dominated by a large bed with an intricately carved headboard that demanded closer scrutiny. The cream silk sheets were topped with a velvety throw and softened by piles of cushions in myriad shades of green, which blended with the trees around. A large woven rug almost covered the wooden floor and a gentle breeze played with the filmy gauze curtains that hung in the corners of the room, more for decoration than utility.
The woman said something in a language that Grace assumed to be Portuguese and she gave an apologetic smile, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry, I don’t speak a word of Portuguese.’
‘I said that your clothes have already been unpacked. If you need anything else, you only have to ask.’ Her voice was soft, her English heavily accented, and Grace nodded.
‘Thank you.’ She cast a rueful glance down at herself. ‘I’m going to change.’ She felt sticky and uncomfortable and desperate to get out of her clothes. Not that she’d brought much with her. She’d packed for two nights in Rio de Janeiro. Just long enough for her to fly out to Forest Lodge and back before catching her return flight to London.
It hadn’t entered her head that he’d invite her to remain as his guest in the rainforest.
She felt a burst of optimism. Wasn’t this what she’d hoped for? More time in which to persuade him to extend the loan? Well, now she had that time.
‘Dinner is served in two hours, on the terrace. If you would like to swim then you can use the forest pool. Take the path on your right and walk for about five minutes. When it forks, go right again.’ Maria gave her an uncertain smile. ‘If you need anything else, please call me.’
Thinking that all she really needed was an extra dose of courage to go another round with Rafael Cordeiro, Grace smiled. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you.’
Deciding that the privacy of her bedroom was preferable to a pool that might have other occupants, Grace chose to ignore the offer of a swim.
Relieved to be able to strip off the suit, she showered and washed her hair. Fortunately the potential problem of what to wear for dinner was instantly solved by the fact that, apart from a red swimming costume packed in case there was a chance to swim in the hotel pool, she only had three items at her disposal. The scratchy formal suit, which she’d taken off with a sigh of relief, the combat trousers she’d worn for the long plane journey from London to Rio and a simple linen dress, packed to give her something to wear around the hotel in Rio. Three outfits and three pairs of shoes. Remembering his comments about sex, she immediately dismissed the idea of wearing her heels. Obviously the lightweight hiking boots that she’d worn on the plane were completely unsuitable, which just left the flat ballet pumps.
Reminding herself that she wasn’t dressing to impress the billionaire Brazilian, she slipped her feet into the pumps and reached for the dress.
It felt wonderfully comfortable after the heavy suit and by the time she walked through the main glass atrium of Forest Lodge and onto the shaded terrace, her confidence was slightly restored. She’d cooled down and had time to think about the situation.
Everything would be fine. She simply had to let him see her passion for the business. If he saw just how much she was prepared to give, then he’d extend the loan.
Her confidence lasted as long as it took her to join him at the table.
He’d changed into a dark shirt and a pair of lightweight trousers. In the fading evening light he looked masculine, sexy and totally unnerving.
‘Sit down. Drink? Caipirinha?’
She looked at the fresh, exotic-looking cocktail he was drinking. ‘I’d better not.’ She smiled at Maria, who was hovering. ‘Something non-alcoholic? Juice would be lovely.’
Rafael gave a faint smile. ‘Keeping your wits about you?’
Grace waited until the drink was in fr
