Brazilian's Nine Months' Notice

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So much for his foolproof plan, Luc concluded as he strode back to the café to pick up his car. He should have known Emma would need a different approach from other women. She wasn’t on the lookout for a wealthy sponsor. She never had been. He had always taken it for granted that with his busy schedule it was more straightforward to be the provider of good things with no strings attached, but trying that approach with Emma had just nosedived spectacularly. Her refreshingly blunt responses made him laugh out loud as he mentally replayed them as he walked back along the ice-bound streets. His libido would have to wait until he came up with a better offer, like a serious job she really would be a fool to refuse. Patience, he told himself sensibly. He had business to finish in town, and not too long to wait until he saw Emma again and could hit her with a revised proposition.

When his work was done, he drove back at a leisurely pace to the hotel. The first thing he did when he reached his room was to call the front desk to ask to speak to Emma.

So much for her afternoon rest!

Cursing viciously, he replaced the receiver. What now? Was she trying to kill herself? They’d informed him that, yes, Ms Fane was in the hotel, but as she was working she couldn’t come to the phone. Why, when she had said she was going to take a rest, was Emma back at work? What was she trying to prove? Surely she couldn’t need money so badly?

Pacing the room, he examined the facts. When her parents’ criminal activities had come to light, the courts had confiscated everything they’d owned, so Emma had inherited nothing, but she was a capable woman who didn’t strike him as being dependent on anyone, let alone the parents who, by all accounts, had never shown much interest in her.

He stared out of the window at the grey scene below. Traffic was barely moving, and what few people were brave enough to venture out on foot were bundled up in what appeared to be every heavy winter garment they possessed. His thoughts turned to Emma with the sultry sun of Brazil on her face.

She would love Brazil.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘HE DID WHAT?’ Emma demanded, her voice tight with shock. She was facing the housekeeper over the gleaming stainless-steel counters in the kitchen, which Emma had just cleaned.

‘Mr Marcelos has asked for you to be released from your duties this afternoon, and I’ve said yes,’ the housekeeper informed Emma. ‘He asked for you most particularly—he said no one else would do.’

The housekeeper was avid for gossip, Emma concluded as the older woman’s gaze sharpened on her face. ‘It was good of you to offer to stand in at the last minute, Emma. I know we can always depend on you, but if this man wants to offer you a better job, I can’t stop you leaving. In fact, I don’t want to stop you,’ the housekeeper admitted in a surprising moment of empathy. ‘Maybe you’ll have the chance to go places that I never had. You should at least find out what he’s got in mind. You shouldn’t let yourself be trapped in a small place like this. A young woman like you should spread your wings.’

Emma had never heard the housekeeper say so much to her in one outburst before. It made her feel ungrateful that she could turn down an opportunity without even considering it.

‘You used to work for him, didn’t you?’ the housekeeper pressed.

‘Yes. It’s on my CV. I worked for the Marcelos hotel chain in London.’

‘And now fate has brought the owner of that hotel chain back into your life. You can’t ignore a sign like that.’

‘The chance of a job working for Senhor Marcelos’s hotel chain has cropped up,’ Emma emphasised. ‘There’s nothing more to it than that.’

‘I don’t know what you’re waiting for.’ The housekeeper sniffed as if she would have seized the opportunity with both hands, given half a chance.

‘Yes. What are you waiting for, Emma?’

Emma swung round to see Luc standing in the doorway.

‘You should at least allow Mr Marcelos to tell you what he’s got in mind,’ the housekeeper pressed, simpering as she ogled Lucas.

Who did look amazing in a soft black cashmere sweater and jeans, but that wasn’t a good enough reason to massage his ego, Emma thought. She had a pretty good idea what Lucas had in mind. Judging by his expression his latest suggestion would be similar to the first, and it would be far better to deal with him away from prying eyes. Putting her cloths and cleaning products away, she washed her hands and then allowed the housekeeper to chivvy her out of the kitchen.