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Did you look at her the way you’re looking at me now?
Conscious of his gaze, Grace slid a hand over the shimmering fabric. ‘I can’t imagine why anyone would leave it behind.’ It was the sort of dress that made a girl feel beautiful.
‘The owner was in rather a hurry to leave. I seem to recall that jungle life didn’t suit her.’ His voice was a soft accented drawl and revealed nothing about his feelings or emotions but she knew—sensed without a shadow of doubt—that it wasn’t jungle life that hadn’t suited the owner of the dress but life with Rafael Cordeiro.
So he had hurt her. Clearly the girl had walked away without even pausing to pick up her belongings.
And knowing that, why was she still sitting here, allowing the atmosphere to pull her in? Why was she allowing him to draw her into the intimacy of his gaze? Knowing what she knew, just how much was she prepared to risk?
Her self-esteem?
A lifetime of pain for a moment’s pleasure? Her heart?
She pushed the question away. ‘You’re a very complicated man, Rafael.’ Her voice was husky and she gave him a shy smile as she lifted her glass to her lips and sipped the wine. ‘Cold and hot at the same time. You claim to not like people and yet there’s kindness in you, I know there is.’
‘Don’t turn me into something soft and cuddly, Grace.’ There was a warning in his voice and she smiled at the image that his words created because they were so far removed from reality.
‘No, never that.’ His steady gaze unsettled her. ‘But you treated Carlos and Filomena with kindness and respect. And you clearly care about them or you wouldn’t have been so angry with me.’
His eyes mocked. ‘I’m a saint. I’m sure you’ve heard that about me.’
‘I don’t listen to gossip. I prefer to make my own judgements.’ ‘A woman who doesn’t gossip?’ He raised his glass in a silent toast. ‘Are you a betrayer of your sex, Grace?’
‘No. But I know that appearances can be deceptive. People make judgements based on their own experiences. Isn’t that what you did with me? When I arrived you made that comment about lying and cheating being part of a woman’s genes. But you weren’t born thinking that. Who made you think that, Rafael?’
He studied her for a long moment, his eyes lingering on hers as he considered her question. ‘Perhaps you have escaped the lying and cheating gene but you seem to have more than your fair share of the psychology one. Why do you want to know about me, Grace?’
‘Because I want to help.’
He gave a sardonic smile. ‘Do I look as though I need help?’ He leaned back in his chair and glanced around his surroundings and she understood the message in his gaze. Yes, they were in the jungle but that didn’t for one moment detract from the luxury of his home or the abundant evidence of his extreme wealth. The clues were everywhere.
‘I wasn’t talking about money. Obviously you don’t need money.’
‘Then what do I need, Grace?’ His soft tone bordered on the dangerous and his eyes warned her to drop the subject.
‘Love.’ She stumbled over the word. ‘You need love. I don’t believe your reputation or the image you portray. I’ve seen kindness and when it’s anything to do with Brazil, your own country, you’re passionate.’
He leaned forward, his eyes on her mouth. ‘I’m not arguing that I’m passionate. I’m even prepared to demonstrate how passionate. And I’m more than happy to allow women to love me in any way they choose.’
She looked at the arrogantly arched brows, the roughness darkening his aggressive jaw and knew that he wasn’t ever going to be an easy man to love.
Physically, yes, that would be no problem. Even if she hadn’t heard the rumours she would have known that he was a hot-blooded, physical man. But nothing more than that. Nothing deeper. The barriers were up and he wasn’t allowing her even a peep into his soul.
No one was allowed too close.
Flustered by how much she wanted to get close, she chose to change the subject. ‘Do you often bring people here?’
‘That depends on who they are and their purpose for visiting. The activities on offer here—’ he smiled slightly as his eyes dropped to her mouth ‘—are limited.’
Her whole body heated under his lazy scrutiny and she shifted in her chair and reached for her wine. ‘Did you build it?’ Keeping the conversation moving and neutral was hard because she had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want to talk at all. And he was looking at her in that way and all she really wanted to do was lean across the table and beg him to kiss her, touch her, the way he had in the forest.
And that impulse shocked her because she’d never felt that way about anyone before. Especially not anyone as hugely unsuitable as Rafael Cordeiro.
If there was ever a man designed to break a woman’s heart, it was he.
‘The lodge?’ He was still looking
at her mouth. ‘Yes. I wanted somewhere that was inaccessible and private.’
