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Luc chose not to answer, and she thought she knew why. He’d moved on from telling her that she would never have to work again in her life to offering her a job suited to her position as the mother of his child. The owner of such a prestigious hotel chain could hardly be associated with a girl who scrubbed floors. But this proposition didn’t suit her any better than the last. ‘I’d rather be myself from the off,’ she said, ‘which means starting at the bottom and working my way up.’
‘If you’re having my child you’ll do as I say.’
‘It doesn’t work like that, Luc.’ But that was her only qualification for a job in management, Emma thought, biting her tongue on the angry words she couldn’t say to him now that Luc had stopped the car and got out. He had parked in front of the steps of his sleek executive jet. This was his life. Yes, and for a short time she’d be touching the fringes of it, and during that time she would make the best of every opportunity and work her socks off to win people over. She had always landed jobs fair and square in the past, and she had no intention of being paraded in public as Luc’s latest girlfriend, the woman he’d promoted above her capabilities just because she pleased him in bed.
‘What?’ he asked, as she hovered at the foot of the steps.
She glanced up into the unreasonably handsome face that she’d seen in so many different moods. There was only coldness and resolve now, laced with impatience as Luc waited for her to mount the steps. No one went against Lucas Marcelos. No one dared.
‘Hurry,’ he prompted. ‘I don’t know why you’re hesitating when you will have everything you need in Brazil.’
But would she have her freedom? Emma wondered.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NOW SHE WAS about to leave Scotland, it had occurred to her that once she set foot inside Luc’s jet she would be entering his world and leaving her world behind.
‘Let me help,’ he said.
His sudden solicitude wasn’t for any other reason than that he was as eager to leave Scotland as she was to stay. He was talking to her as he might talk to one of his brood mares on the pampas, a creature that must be soothed before it could be coaxed to go anywhere but a creature that would inevitably do exactly as he said.
‘What happens when I’ve given birth to our child?’ she asked quietly, still with her feet firmly rooted on Scottish soil.
Luc’s stare flickered. ‘Nothing. Not right away.’
So like that brood mare she would be allowed to wean her child, at which stage her baby would be taken away from her and she would be superfluous, and Luc would get rid of her. How different would that make her from her parents, who had never wanted her and who had passed her around? Was she going to let that happen to her own child? Or was she going to channel the grief she still felt at their wasted lives into a positive force for the good of her baby?
‘You can make your time in Brazil pleasant or not, Emma,’ Luc said, shifting position impatiently. ‘It’s in your hands entirely.’
Was it? As long as she made her mind up fast, she suspected, and in his favour, of course. Luc was shrewdly playing her, making it sound as if she would be in control, when they both knew it was he who held the reins. For now.
Seeing the cabin staff waiting patiently for them at the top of the steps, she asked the final question on her mind. ‘Will I be expected to share your bed in Brazil?’
For the first time since he’d found out about their baby a glimmer of humour flashed into Luc’s eyes. ‘Do you want to?’
She knew at once he still wanted her. God help her, she wanted him too. There was no concern in his manner as he ran up the steps to greet the waiting crew. Luc was so sure of the eventual outcome, why would he feel any concern?
‘Emma. Come and meet everyone.’
She was surprised to be included in the warm greetings at the top of the steps, but was glad of it, and hurried to shake hands.
And so he had got her out of Scotland. It had been that easy, she realised ruefully as the friendly cabin staff ushered her inside the jet. She didn’t need to look at Luc to see the gleam of triumph in his eyes. She knew it would be there. Where persuasion had failed him, he’d used her innate good manners against her to achieve the result he wanted. As Luc left her to complete the preflight checks, his cabin staff ushered her to her seat, which looked more like a comfortable armchair than a necessary perch on a jet. It was flanked by a magazine rack, a drinks bar, a selection of tempting nibbles, and even a tray holding high-end beauty products for her to indulge in during the flight. Luc looked in on her briefly as she was trying to settle into her glitzy surroundings.
