In Bed With the Boss

And he was feeling something else as well. Something a thousand times more powerful than curiosity or irritation.

Chemistry. Electric, fiery chemistry that snapped the air taut and made his body throb in a vicious response that was entirely sexual.

Which all went to prove that the male libido was no judge of character, a fact that he’d learned a long time before.

With a shake of his head and a cynical smile, he continued to walk, relying on hard physical exercise to dampen the almost painful reaction of his body.

And to her credit, at least she wasn’t a moaner. So far he hadn’t heard a single comment about blisters or broken nails, wet hair or insect bites. He’d expected her to crack or at least show signs of nerves or exhaustion but she just kept on going, planting her feet firmly in front of her. And on the few occasions when she’d slipped on the increasingly muddy path, she’d regained her balance and glared at him, as i

f daring him to patronise her with an offer of help that they both knew would be delivered with condescension.

Even when they’d had to cross the river and she’d slipped on the glassy boulders and fallen neck-deep in the water, she’d ignored his outstretched hand. Instead she’d dragged herself bodily over the rocks until she’d reached the other side. Watching her brush an insect away from her neck with an impatient flick of her hand, he suddenly had a strong feeling that her performance was driven by something far stronger, deeper and more powerful than a reaction to his comment about her suit and high heels. Something that came from deep inside her.

What was she trying to prove? And to whom?

He already knew everything that he needed to know about her.

All the figures pointed to the fact that she was a liar, a cheat and a fraud.

So why did he keep turning his head to glance at her?

Why was he so fiercely aware of her?

She was bedraggled, messy and horribly uncomfortable, but still she walked. Occasionally she paused to squint into the trees but it wasn’t fear he saw in her eyes, but interest.

‘What’s that?’

He paused and followed her gaze, looking through the tangled vines wrapped around tall, dignified trees that stood straight as soldiers. ‘What?’

‘Up there.’ She brushed damp hair out of her eyes and pointed. ‘That red bird. It’s beautiful.’

He studied her face, wondering if this was all part of her act. But her blue eyes were fixed on the blur of red feathers in the branches above and when she turned to him there was a smile on her mouth.

‘You don’t know, do you?’ Her eyes teased and mocked as she adjusted the rucksack on her back. ‘This is virtually your back garden and you can’t name it.’

‘This isn’t a nature tour,’ he said roughly, glancing up as a crack of thunder splintered the air above them and the rain intensified. ‘We’ll shelter for a moment.’

He pulled her under the shelter of the nearest tree and she pushed her soaking hair away from her face, her eyes gleaming with laughter, and he had a powerful feeling that she was actually enjoying herself.

‘What’s the point in sheltering?’ Drops of water clung to her lashes and spilled down her cheeks like tears. ‘Once you’ve fallen in the river, you can’t get any wetter. I’ve reached saturation point.’ As if to prove it, she twisted the edges of her shirt between her hands and chuckled as the water dripped to the ground. ‘See what I mean?’

They’d been walking for over an hour. She had to be tired but she hadn’t once complained and Rafael felt a flicker of reluctant admiration. Greedy and deceitful she undoubtedly was, but you had to give her credit for being tough. Offhand, he didn’t know another woman who would have cheerfully discarded their high heels in favour of boots and then coped with the rainforest without a word of complaint.

But she didn’t dare complain, he reminded himself, determinedly reining in the almost vicious reaction of his body. She was still hoping that she could talk him out of his money.

Angry with his own response, Rafael turned to look down the path but in only a matter of seconds his gaze was drawn back to the girl.

What was it about her?

What was it about her that stirred him, even though she had absolutely no qualities that he admired? What did she have, this golden-haired English girl who was so lacking in morals?

She was leaning with her back against the tree. Her eyes had drifted shut as she breathed in the scent of the rainforest and there was something almost shockingly sensual about her transformation from city girl to forest dryad. Her flushed cheeks were damp and drops of water clung to the soft curve of her mouth and she seemed to blend with the nature that surrounded her. It was as if she were part of the forest, put there to tempt man.

And tempt she did.

Hot waves of lust engulfed him as he dragged his eyes away from her mouth and allowed his gaze to travel lower.

The rain had rendered her white shirt virtually see-through and he was given a tempting view of firm, high breasts and nipples clearly defined as they strained against the wet fabric. The heat inside him grew and his eyes slid lower still, past her narrow waist and down to the point at which her trousers settled on the wholly feminine curve of her hips. Her trousers were muddy and there was a tear in one of the legs, her boots were battered, but he couldn’t ever remember being so hot for a woman.