Brazilian's Nine Months' Notice (4 page)

‘I understand why you came home to Scotland, but not why you stay here. It makes more sense to go back to London and complete your training.’

‘To you, maybe.’

His senses surged as she fired back at him. He liked her like this, full of passion, full of fire. ‘You can pick up the programme,’ he insisted, determined to keep the pressure on. ‘Everyone will understand that you needed time to come to terms with what happened. It’s a good course, Emma—the best. And free to all my staff.’

‘I know that,’ she said, refusing to look at him.

‘You had career prospects—great prospects. Why are you throwing them away?’

‘I’m happy here.’

The elevator slowed and the doors slid open, but before she could walk through them he stood in front of her. ‘What do you get here that you can’t get in London? The chance to grow old and grey while you wait for promotion?’

‘Peace of mind,’ she fired back, her eyes full of steel as she stared at him.

‘So it’s all about me?’

‘Hah!’ She laughed.

‘Well, I can tell you what it’s about here,’ he drove on. ‘It’s all about dead men’s shoes, while I have hotels around the world full of opportunity. You could work in any one of them—’

‘You’re pitching hard,’ she interrupted. ‘Why, Lucas?’

‘What’s your problem? I know there’s something. Debts? A persistent boyfriend you can’t get rid of? I don’t know—’

‘Don’t you, Lucas?’

‘There is something troubling you,’ he said. ‘If you had problems in London you should have told me.’

‘Problems apart from you?’ Her eyes were firing bullets at him. ‘I didn’t have any problems in London,’ she assured him tensely.

‘What, then?’

‘Why can’t you let it go? This isn’t the time. I have work to do.’

‘When will it be the time?’

She looked as if she would like to say something, but then thought better of it, and so he quietened his tone and said, ‘If you have a problem, who else is going to help you?’

‘You’re going to help me?’ Her mouth slanted sceptically.

‘You trusted me in London. Why not now?’

‘I trusted you,’ she said, neither a question nor a statement. ‘But you flew out of the country that morning. “Billionaire off on his travels again”,’ she quoted from the newspapers. ‘Whether I’d left you or not, don’t even pretend you were planning to stick around.’

‘Did you expect me to stay and start something with you?’

‘A proper relationship, do you mean?’ She shook her head as if that had never entered her thoughts, and he believed her. ‘I want to get out of the lift, if you don’t mind,’ she said, looking past him.

He moved aside. ‘Think about what I’ve said, Emma. There’s still a place for you in London, if you want it.’

‘I’ve just taken on more hours here,’ she said, as if that was an end of the subject.

‘We can still discuss it.’

‘I’ve got a twelve-hour shift ahead of me.’

‘Twelve hours?’ He was aghast. ‘How many hours have you put in so far today? There are laws to protect workers like you, Emma. This isn’t the Dark Ages. Your hours would be capped at my hotel in London, and you’d still receive a decent wage.’ She couldn’t deny that he cared for his staff. ‘My staff mean everything to me. Without them, I have nothing. They should treat you the same way here. Don’t they ever give you time off?’

‘I choose my hours, and I get enough time,’ she assured him.

He exhaled, both with anger and frustration, as Emma slipped past him and walked away.

* * *

The last thing she heard as the steel door slid to was Luc’s angry huff, but she had always worked hard. Growing up, there had only been one way to have new clothes and enough food on the table, and that had been to make the money herself. Whether her parents had made much out of their life of crime was hard to say. The only times she’d ever seen them they were so drunk or so high it would have the easiest thing in the world to steal from them, and they had died penniless and in debt, which she was also struggling to pay.

After she’d restocked the room, she headed up the stairwell, through the fire door onto the small balcony at the top of the fire escape. The air was so cold here it was like breathing in ice shards, but she needed to refresh herself and wake up in readiness for the next shift. She was exhausted with the pregnancy and exhausted from working double shifts, but she had to go on. She had to support herself and a child.

As a lone bird flew across her field of vision to its roost, she wished briefly that she could fly away. Lucas had used her for sex and moved on. She had used him for sex and moved on, so they were quits. If only she could forget about him once she had told him about their baby, but their child bound them together for life.

Hugging her stomach protectively, she started to agonise over how and when to tell him. The future of an unborn child was at stake, and she couldn’t afford to get the timing wrong, and didn’t want to think how Luc would take the news.

* * *

She worked harder than she ever had during the night shift in a failed attempt to put Lucas Marcelos out of her mind. Only one thing mattered, she kept telling herself fiercely, and that was her baby, and by the end of this shift she could add to her nest egg.

Though she scrubbed and cleaned and polished throughout the long night, Luc never left her mind. His baby was with her too. That was the one thought that kept her going, kept her happy, kept her calm. In spite of all the obstacles, she was so happy to be pregnant. From the first moment she’d suspected, the world had seemed a brighter place and she had vowed there and then that, whatever problems lay ahead of her, she would make a very different life for her child from the life she had known growing up.

Luc might have no part in raising their child. She had already accepted that and intended to ask nothing of him. She didn’t need his help. She could do everything by herself, she always had. Telling him was the only difficult part, and that had seemed so easy in theory, but when she’d seen him face-to-face she’d known that nothing about it would be easy, and had panicked at the thought of him taking her baby away from her. Luc had the power to do that. He had the money and the influence she lacked. How would she even find her child if he decided to steal it away from her, when he had homes all over the world?

She had to lift her head from her scrubbing to take some deep, calming breaths. Becoming a shivering wreck wouldn’t help her child.

Would a man like Luc turn his back when she told him? Would he allow her to carry on and remain in Scotland? No. He would interfere. But she still had to tell him. It was the right thing to do. But Luc would want his child to have a very different life from anything she could provide. His child would have a privileged life, with nannies and carers and expensive schools...

But no mother on hand.

No encumbrance of any kind would be allowed to interfere in the self-indulgent lifestyle of the infamous Lucas Marcelos. His child would reflect his wealth and status, while its mother could only be an embarrassment to him.

And now her throat felt as dry as tinder, and she remained cold and shivery for the rest of her shift. It was still dark when she finished work. The winter nights were long and cold this far north, and she had never felt so alone and uncertain as she put her cleaning equipment away and prepared to face the new day.

There were hormones racing through her system, she reminded herself, and these, coupled with simple exhaustion, meant she must pull herself together, and quickly. She had to carry on. She had a baby to think about now. Which meant keeping up her strength by eating something now. Washing her hands and straightening her hair as best she could, she headed downstairs to the basement where the kitchen was located. There was always something good to eat. But not this morning, she discovered to her disappointment, because a hiking party had arrived unexpectedly, and paying guests always took precedence over staff.

‘You’ll have to go out for breakfast,’ the chef told her with an apologetic shrug. ‘I’m sorry, Emma. That’s how it goes sometimes.’

‘No problem.’ She found a smile. ‘You’ve got enough to do. I’ll go into town and get something there.’

She was rocking on her feet for want of sleep, but she could buy something in town and bring it back to eat in her room. She didn’t really care. She was too tired to think. Plucking her coat from the hook, she shrugged it on, and opening the back door she stepped outside from steaming warmth into the shock of the freezing air. Tucking her chin down, she was on the point of braving the walk into town when she stopped dead. Dressed to brave the worst of a Scottish winter, Luc was leaning against the side of a sleek black sports car. ‘How...?’

‘I made enquiries to find out when your shift ended,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Are you satisfied now that you’ve completely exhausted yourself?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not fine, Emma.’ Opening the passenger door, he stood waiting for her to get in.

‘What?’ She couldn’t even form the words. She was too tired to think.

Luc shook his head. ‘We both know that what you’re doing is against all regulations. The hotel could be fined for abusing its staff with these overly long hours, and then you really will be out of a job. Working through the night?’ he said, his frown deepening. ‘What are you trying to prove, Emma?’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything,’ she insisted.

Powerful arms folded across his rugged jacket, Luc disagreed. ‘You’d better get in,’ he said, ‘before you freeze to death.’

And still she hesitated. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘What’s to understand, Emma?’

‘Why are you waiting for me? I don’t need a lift. I can walk into town.’

‘Get in,’ Luc repeated. ‘I won’t tell you again.’

CHAPTER FOUR

H
E
WASN
’
T
JOKING
. He practically lifted her into the car. She was glad of it. The pavements were icy—another thing the hotel had let slip. All the other parts of the pavement had been salted, but not here—they were treacherous, for guests, and for old folk in particular.

And for pregnant women, Emma reminded herself as Lucas settled her in the car. He even fastened the seat belt for her before closing the door, as if he knew how cold she was, and how exhausted. Walking around the sleek black vehicle, he got in and made himself comfortable on cream kidskin. She wasn’t so tired she didn’t notice that in jeans and rugged boots, with a jacket that emphasised the width of his shoulders, Luc looked like the perfect port in a storm.

At least this particular storm, Emma amended as she gazed up into the snow-dappled air. She hadn’t realised how cold she had become until now, when she was safely enclosed in the warm interior of Luc’s luxury vehicle—every part of which called for wool or cashmere or alpaca, rather than a cheap nylon uniform beneath a thin, shabby coat. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ she protested, suddenly self-conscious. She was having second thoughts as he pulled away from the kerb, thinking the type of place Luc would take her to for breakfast could only make her feel worse.

‘You’re going to eat and so am I,’ he said. ‘It would be churlish of me not to offer you a lift. I didn’t fancy eating in a packed dining room or in my suite today.’ He shrugged as he turned on the engine and moved into the stream of traffic heading into town. ‘And you look as if you need a lift,’ he added glancing at her.

‘Thanks,’ she said drily.

‘I’m going to buy you breakfast. Get used to it, Emma.’

‘I can buy my own breakfast.’

With a groan, he heaved a sigh. ‘Emma, please... Allow me to do this one small thing for you.’

‘But you don’t need to.’

‘I know that, but I want to.’ Luc flashed a glance at her. ‘If you’re still embarrassed about what happened in London, please don’t be. This is just breakfast with a friend. Okay?’

If only.

‘I’m not embarrassed,’ she said, attempting a casual shrug.

‘So relax.’

Luc turned on some music—easy listening, soothing and low, but still she couldn’t relax as she tried to work out if there was enough time to tell him before they arrived in town. The longer she left it the harder it would be, but she’d had this dream that when she did tell him, they’d be relaxed with all the time in the world to talk things over. And, more importantly, she’d be on top form, with every argument for keeping the baby with her at her fingertips. Telling him now, when she was so tired, was a recipe for disaster.

‘Stop,’ he said, when she raked her hair with her fingers, trying to improve her bedraggled appearance. ‘You look great.’

‘What? Like this?’ From somewhere she found a laugh. ‘I need a bath. I need to sleep. I need a miracle,’ she finished wryly.

Luc glanced at her. ‘At least you’ve got enough energy to smile.’

‘Just,’ she admitted ruefully.

‘You’ll feel better once you’ve had something to eat.’

She made no comment.

‘What do you fancy?’

‘I was just going to buy some food and take it back to my room. I’ll embarrass you looking like this.’

‘
Deus
, Emma. You’re not the only person who works for a living. What do you have to be embarrassed about?’

She had no answer for him. This was a new side to Luc, and one she found hard not to like, but they had never really talked before, she realised. She really was a hopeless case. She didn’t even know the man who was the father of her child. She didn’t know where he stood about anything, beyond being considerate towards his staff. Luc didn’t know her either. As her ex-employer, he knew the bones of her life story and no more. She was no stranger to Luc’s efficient business manner, and as a woman in his bed she’d heard him swear and coax and laugh, but nothing more than that.

‘Are you warm enough?’ he asked when she shivered.

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He just turned the heating up. If he hadn’t been sitting next to her, she might have pinched some colour into her cheeks—or, better still, slapped them to wake up to the danger she was courting. How long was she going to wait before she told him? Should she do it now in the car—or in a café over a cup of tea? She had no time to think about this as Luc was already parking.

‘We can walk from here,’ he said.

Coming round to the passenger door, he insisted on helping her out. This new considerate Luc was a revelation, and she liked him. Too much.

The pavements had been gritted, and they were able to walk down the High Street at a brisk pace, past the familiar boutiques full of Scottish wares and trinkets. She flashed glances through the windows as she passed, as if to reassure herself that this was safe, this was home, and that nothing bad could ever happen here.

But it had. The car crash that had killed her parents had happened not a mile away—

‘This okay for you?’

Luc had stopped outside the steamed-up windows of a café, she realised, quickly gathering her shattered senses. ‘This is ideal.’ It was. By some fluke, Luc had stopped outside her favourite café. He held the door for her, and the heat and appetising smells of home cooking instantly surrounded her, luring her in. She was surprised by his choice, but glad of it. It was a straightforward, no-frills café, where she wouldn’t feel awkward dressed as she was, and where the food was all freshly prepared from local produce and delicious.

Needless to say, Luc created a wave of interest from the moment he walked in. Even casually dressed, he stood out. No one had expected to have their breakfast interrupted by such a striking-looking man. Tall, hard-muscled, and tanned, he looked like an inhabitant from another planet where the sun shone more than once a year, and all the men were titans. Then the customers noticed Emma, which provoked an even bigger rustle of interest.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Luc demanded as they sat down.

‘You chatting to people,’ she remarked, having been surprised that Luc had exchanged greetings with quite a few people she knew.

‘I’ve been in town awhile, and I have business here.’

And she’d seen this side of him at work, Emma remembered. Luc was naturally interested in people, which explained why he was so successful in the hospitality industry. But there was something else about his choice of café that surprised her too. ‘You seem so at home, sitting on a plastic chair at a Formica-topped table,’ she said wryly. ‘Are you sure this isn’t just to indulge me?’

‘The food’s the best here—I’ve tried it before. And I’m a human being just like you. I’m not some distant potentate, living in an ivory tower.’

No. Luc had a selection of ivory, she thought as he held up his hands in mock surrender.

‘Do you always order for your guests?’ she asked, after he’d ordered them both breakfast.

‘When they look as tired as you do? Yes, I do. Don’t fight it, Emma. Save your powder for the important battles ahead of you.’

She shrank inside at his words. It was as if he knew.

‘This is only breakfast,’ Luc was pointing out. ‘If you want to change anything I’ve ordered, just ask the waitress. Or I will.’

‘No. What you’ve ordered is fine. Thank you.’

‘But next time ask me?’ he suggested with an amused look. ‘So...’ He sat back. ‘What shall we talk about while we wait for our breakfast to arrive?’

Her cheeks went fiery red. Short of hanging a notice around her neck plastered with the word ‘baby’, she couldn’t think how she could look guiltier than she felt.

‘Will you start or will I?’ Luc prompted.

Making his big frame comfortable, he looked like a man at ease with himself and the world. She couldn’t tell him. Not here. Too many people were listening. She had caused quite the stir coming in here with Lucas, where everyone knew her. She had lived in the village all her life, apart from when she’d gone down to London, and it was common knowledge that two of her friends, both local women, had married Brazilian men. People must be wondering if this was the latest romance. They also knew everything about her past.

Burying her face in the mug of tea the waitress had just brought them, she had to remember that however easygoing Luc might appear to be now, he would crack down the minute he heard about the baby. If she knew one thing about him, it was that Luc was all about control. Once he knew, everything would change and she wouldn’t have a say in anything. She had to get things set up right from the start, which was much easier to plan than to do. Careless words now definitely wouldn’t help her.

‘Don’t look so worried.’ Leaning across the table, Luc stared her in the eyes. ‘I don’t expect you to divulge state secrets. I was just thinking what a good opportunity it was to release some tension and have a chat. You can start with the weather, if you like.’

She knew he was joking, but at least he’d made it possible to relax. She stared out of the window. ‘If we were in Brazil, maybe the weather might be a topic we could talk about, but the less said here, the better, I think, don’t you?’

She flinched as Luc’s knee brushed hers. She was so on edge he had to notice. Guilt must be emblazoned on her like a great big neon sign. But how was she supposed to sit across a narrow space from such a big man and not touch him? She tensed as the waitress arrived with their food, giving her a brief respite. Did he know? Had he guessed? She couldn’t tell. ‘You pick a topic. You start,’ she said, as soon as the waitress had left them.

‘I would have thought my topic was obvious.’

‘Really?’ She frowned. ‘Not to me.’

‘My topic’s you, Emma.’ Luc focused his whole attention on her. ‘I want you, Emma.’ Her throat instantly felt as if it was in a noose. ‘I want you in my bed,’ Luc continued smoothly.

Be sensible.
This is not a romantic moment
, she warned herself. Luc had spoken with about as much emotion as he had used to give their order for toast.

‘I want you in my bed because I enjoyed you,’ he said, confirming this as he angled his chin to direct a stare into her eyes. ‘I can’t stay in Scotland for much longer, so I want you to come back with me to Brazil.’

‘To Brazil,’ she breathed.

‘That is where I live most of the year.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said faintly, ‘but I won’t be your mistress.’

Luc smiled wryly. ‘I wasn’t thinking of anything quite so permanent—and you’ve made it clear you wouldn’t want that. I always had you pegged as a career girl, which is why you’ve thrown me by working here.’ He glanced out of the window. ‘I can give you a job in Brazil and look after you for as long as—’

‘You want me?’ she supplied.

The humour left his eyes. ‘You make it sound so cold-blooded.’

‘Isn’t it? You’re paying me to sleep with you.’

‘Don’t put it so crudely.’

‘How would you put it?’

‘I would say we were both seizing the moment and making the most of it for as long as it lasts. You would never have to worry about anything again. You’d never have to work another day in your life, if you didn’t want to. And you’d get to sleep with me every night.’ He laughed.

Emma didn’t laugh. ‘Until you tire of me and throw me out.’

Luc sat back, appearing wholly at ease with his suggestion. He didn’t even have the good grace to seem impatient at her comment. ‘It’s a great offer, Emma.’

‘It’s prostitution dressed up in a uniform of your choice.’

‘That’s harsh.’

‘But it’s the truth, and you can’t deny it.’

Luc didn’t even attempt to deny it. ‘Looking at it your way, you must admit that what I’m suggesting is cost-effective.’

‘What?’ she exploded. ‘You are totally shameless.’

‘I’m just being open about the fact that I don’t want you for just one night, or even a couple of nights. I want you in Brazil so I can have sex with you whenever I want.’

‘That’s outrageous.’

‘It’s honest.’ He put a restraining hand on her arm when she started to get up. ‘Sit,’ he recommended.

People had turned to stare, and the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene. ‘If that was your idea of a joke—’

‘It was no joke,’ Lucas assured her.

She was lost for words. She couldn’t believe that even Luc could be so brazen when it came to spelling out his sexual shopping list. There was no love involved. It was a cold-blooded proposition made by a man who could buy anything he wanted. Luc was just making a bid for another item on his list.

‘I enjoyed you in London,’ he said, confirming this. ‘I want to enjoy you again. What’s so strange about that?’ He shrugged. ‘You’re not exactly going to miss much here—no career prospects. No lifestyle. No nothing. Why not take a chance, Emma, and come with me? You enjoyed me pleasuring you. Why pretend that’s not what you want?’

Her body tensed at his words, betraying her with pleasure that pulsed low and insistently when she wanted to snarl at him that his suggestion was the most insulting thing she’d ever heard in her life.

‘Yes?’ Luc prompted as she shifted position. ‘Does your discomfort signify yes?’

‘It means no,’ she stated firmly, gathering what little remained of her senses. ‘It means you’ve made me feel more uncomfortable in public than I ever have, and that’s nothing to be proud of.’

‘I’ve made you feel something,’ he agreed, seeming not in the least bit perturbed. ‘And that’s a good thing, as far as I can tell. You’ve locked yourself away, Emma—and in more ways than one.’

‘You could at least have pretended.’

‘What? Been less blunt for the sake of good manners? I think we’re past that, aren’t we, Emma? Or would you prefer me to invite you to Brazil for a cultural tour?’

Luc had no intention of pretending that he wanted her for anything other than sex. And if he was after points for honesty, he could go take a hike.

‘Come on, Emma,’ he coaxed her in a softer tone, leaning over the table. ‘I have a big appetite and so do you—and waiting to be fed doesn’t suit me.’

For the second time during breakfast she was lost for words. She had no strategies to deal with Luc. She doubted there were any. So acquire some fast, Emma, told herself fiercely.