Brazilian's Nine Months' Notice

by Susan Stephens

  It was early for lunch, and the corridor was deserted when they arrived outside the kitchens. Expecting Luc to open the door for her, she paused as he stepped in front of her. ‘Aren’t we going in?’

  Luc’s eyes were black and dangerous. ‘Say please,’ he taunted in a husky tone.

  ‘I’ll say something,’ she promised briskly.

  Her pulse was off the scale. They were close enough for her to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. They were breathing the same air, sharing the same space, two wills colliding; his fierce enough to bring him all the riches in the world, while hers was forged in steel out of sheer necessity. They were as unequal as two people could be in the material sense, but at their cores they were the same.

  Gripping the handle, she swung the door wide. ‘Shall we?’ she prompted, stepping inside.

  Luc was as good as his word. Emma was able to spend the rest of that week familiarising herself with the kitchens and the staff, though she rarely saw him. Whether Luc was keeping away from her on purpose, or whether he was just too busy visiting his hotels in other parts of the country, she had no idea.

  His absence gave her some much-needed breathing space and time to reflect. Sometimes, when she was tired, she wondered what she was doing in Brazil—why she hadn’t stayed in Scotland, and why she hadn’t given herself more chance to mourn the deaths of her parents. She came up with the answer in the most unlikely circumstances, while she was doing the most monotonous task: cleaning out a deep fat fryer.

  Mopping her brow with the back of her arm, she accepted that thinking about her parents always made her sad, because nothing had been resolved between them. She hadn’t won their love and doubted now that that was possible. Sometimes hard truths took longer to accept, she thought, knowing the only certainty was that the harder she worked, the closer she came to her goal of providing a good life for her child. She might not have had the best role models for parenthood, but she loved her baby already, and her child was going to be the most wanted child on earth.

  And now she stank. Cleaning out a deep fat fryer was the worst job she’d done so far. The smell of old oil pervaded everything, and by the time she had finished her hair was plastered to her face, and eau de oil was her least favourite scent. But she did have a great view of everything going on in the kitchen. Standing on the sidelines, taking notes, wouldn’t have suited her. She didn’t want people thinking she was afraid to get her hands dirty while everyone else was run off their feet. And there were benefits. She smiled as the chef offered her a titbit from his latest creation. ‘Mmm, delicious.’

  ‘You deserve it, Emma.’

  She didn’t know about that, but she’d learned a lot—and not just that the food at Luc’s hotel was superb. If she could ease things in the future for her colleagues, she’d count it as a victory. And that was her primary concern—not where Luc was. So why was she fretting about him?

  The answer came when she met Karina on her way out.

  ‘You stink.’ Standing well back, Karina faked an explosive coughing fit as she wafted the air with her manicured hand.

  ‘I don’t know whether to be flattered or to hit you with a greasy cloth,’ Emma admitted. ‘But you’re right. I do stink.’

  ‘Like an old chip pan,’ Karina confirmed. ‘Didn’t they give you an overall to wear?’

  ‘I was covered from head to foot in designer plastic, but this exclusive cologne is what they call perma-stink oil.’ With an appreciative hum she inhaled deeply and almost gagged.

  ‘Better get yourself sorted out,’ Karina advised. ‘It’s my birthday party tonight, and you’re coming.’

  Emma’s face dropped. ‘Oh, goodness. I’d forgotten! Joke,’ she added, seeing the look on Karina’s face. ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten. You wouldn’t let me.’

  ‘Quite right. Tired or not, you have to come. Someone has to keep my brother in line.’

  ‘Your brother?’

  ‘The Beast, otherwise known as Lucas? Don’t look at me like that. I won’t accept any of your lame excuses.’

  Emma’s head was spinning.

  ‘You have to be there to stop him ordering me about. This is the first time I’ve met a woman who can control him. Please don’t spoil my fun now.’

  ‘Lucas is your brother?’ Emma mused. ‘Of course he is,’ she said faintly, suddenly seeing everything she’d missed in Karina’s likeness to Lucas. ‘But why didn’t you mention it before?’

  ‘I thought you knew. I thought Lucas would have told you.’

  Emma hesitated. This was not the moment to admit that she didn’t have that type of close relationship with Lucas.

  ‘I know he’s got it bad,’ Karina added. ‘I just can’t understand why he hasn’t thrown you to the floor and had his evil way with you. Judging by that scowl on his face, he hasn’t.’

  Emma forced a laugh. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to share trade secrets with his sister, do you?’

  ‘Please, don’t!’ Karina exclaimed, pulling a face. ‘But I will say this. You’ve certainly made an impression on him.’

  She longed to tell Karina about the baby, but as Luc’s sister grabbed her arm to lead her away to chat about the party, she knew with a sinking heart that once again this wasn’t the right time to raise the subject.

  * * *

  She had used a whole bottle of shampoo on her hair, and then had to choose something from her well-stocked dressing room to wear, as the suit she owned had winged its way to the hotel’s dry-cleaning service, and her working day wasn’t over yet. Housekeeping had asked if she could add the finishing touches to some recently renovated rooms before the first guests arrived. She just had time to fit that in before Karina’s party. It was a job she was looking forward to. It didn’t involve industrial cleaning methods and gave her the chance to evaluate what improvements could be made for guests, if any. Checking out her reflection in the mirror one last time, she grimaced. There was a lot to be said for the high-end designer’s plain navy blue tailored suit teamed with a neat white blouse that Luc’s team had chosen for her. It could be summed up in three words: Boring. Boring. Boring.

  Calling Housekeeping, she asked if they had any spare uniforms handy.

  Happy now she was dressed appropriately in one of the smart Marcelos-branded outfits, she headed out to complete her last task of the day before Karina’s party.

  A party. Hadn’t she vowed to steer clear of parties?

  Yes, but she couldn’t let Karina down. And, as far as she knew, in spite of what Karina had said about controlling him, Luc wasn’t back from his travels yet.

  But wouldn’t he make the effort to be there? Yes, he’d been away, but surely he’d be back for his sister’s party?

  If he was, so what? She was going for Karina’s sake, not Luc’s.

  But now her heart was thundering. Part of her hoped he’d be there, while the other part of her had more sense.

  * * *

  ‘What are you working on today?’

  ‘What?’ Emma catapulted away from the bed she’d been straightening as Luc walked into the room. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she yelped as he placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

  ‘Steady,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m not your horse.’ Still recovering from the shock of seeing him, she gave him a glare, but she couldn’t deny that she was pleased to see him.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he drawled, leaning back against the door. ‘I didn’t mean to surprise you.’

  ‘So you just guessed I was up here in this room?’

  A smile hovered around his mouth. Luc knew everything that happened in his hotel.

  ‘How’ve you been while I’ve been away?’

  Better. Calmer. A lot calmer than she felt now. ‘I’ve been fine. Why shouldn’t I be?’ She glanced at the door, which he’d just closed behin
d him. ‘How did you get in?’

  Luc shrugged as he held up the master key. He was the master of all he surveyed—with one exception, who now straightened her spine to shoot him a hard look.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, frowning as he glanced around.

  ‘Putting the finishing touches to this room.’

  ‘Not bad,’ he approved.

  She held back on the curtsey. Casually dressed in black jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled back, she guessed Lucas had been back at the hotel for some time and that he was fresh from the gym. The clock was creeping steadily towards evening, yet his hair was still damp from the shower...

  Either that, or he’s been in bed with someone.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked as she swayed.

  ‘Never better,’ she confirmed, sidestepping him neatly.

  Had she really swayed at the thought of Luc in bed with someone else? Shutting out that ugly thought, she tried not to react in any way while the scent of his cologne, warmed and intensified by his body heat, invaded her senses like a drug.

  Turning around to face him, she tilted her chin to meet his keen stare, and was immediately dazzled by the expression in his eyes. The same potent combination of lust and humour was there, with, yes, a little caring in the mix. And even without that she’d missed him more than she’d realised.

  That way lies heartache, Emma’s inner guardian angel warned. Luc wanted sex, while she wanted so much more. ‘I need to get on,’ she said briskly, moving past him before the heat of his stare could do any more damage.

  ‘You seem to be on edge,’ Luc commented. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I don’t want to be late for your sister’s party.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s all? Is the baby okay?’

  ‘The baby’s fine. I would have said something—’ She bit back the words, knowing they didn’t have that type of close relationship. She would have to find a use for her hands or stop wringing them.

  He stopped her at the door. ‘So everything’s going well with your pregnancy?’

  ‘Yes.’ The crazy part of her longed for Luc to drag her into his arms, and say ‘Good.’ For him to whisper it against her hair as they shared the joy, but he didn’t move and neither did she. Why would he? Why would she? She couldn’t risk becoming reliant on anyone. She had to be strong enough to do this on her own. And Luc was going to make that difficult. There was only one way for him, and that was his way. It was up to her to find a compromise, though how she had no idea as yet. ‘The doctor says everything is going to plan,’ she said, feeling she ought to reassure him.

  ‘Doctor?’ Luc frowned.

  ‘The hotel doctor is very helpful. I registered with him the morning after I arrived.’

  ‘You have made yourself at home.’

  ‘I’ve done what’s necessary for my health and for the health of my baby.’

  He eased away from the door. ‘Our baby.’

  Had Luc accepted their child? A little ray of hope lit inside her, but she didn’t push it. ‘The medical care you offer your staff is very good.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve.’

  ‘I would be a fool not to take advantage of it.’

  ‘And no one would call you a fool, Emma.’

  There was something in his voice that chilled her—something that said they had a long way to go before they could talk about trust—but while he’d been away it seemed that Luc had got used to the idea of a baby—his child, his heir—and that he was more enthusiastic about the whole idea. This was wonderful news for their child, but Luc would be more determined than ever to bring her under his control.

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t work,’ he said, confirming her concerns.

  ‘I have to work. And what I’ve been doing here isn’t exactly hard.’ She gestured around the beautiful room.

  ‘It isn’t slaving away in the kitchen,’ Luc agreed, ‘as my head chef assures me you are happy to do.’

  She was chilled by the thought that he knew everything, but everyone in the hotel reported to Luc. ‘Why am I here if not to work?’

  ‘You should be resting.’

  ‘You took me to the kitchens and set me to work.’

  ‘Not to scrub and clean.’

  ‘I won’t pick and choose. I’ll do whatever’s necessary.’

  ‘Will you?’ Luc’s voice and his manner had changed. He was warning her not to push him.

  Tough. She wouldn’t give in to him, Emma determined. Luc would enjoy her and then cast her aside as soon as she’d had the baby, if she gave him that chance, and she needed solid foundations for her child, which meant a good job going forward, so she wouldn’t offend him. To get that good job, she’d need a glowing reference from Luc. She wouldn’t do anything to compromise that.

  ‘I’ll see you at the party,’ he said, looking at her with dark amusement as if he could read her mind.

  ‘I’ll be there,’ she confirmed. ‘I’m looking forward to it. You should have told me Karina was your sister.’

  ‘I hear that you’ve become friends.’ His dark eyes grew watchful. ‘What do you talk about?’ He opened the door for them.

  She shrugged. ‘This and that.’

  ‘Have you told my sister about the baby?’

  ‘No, and tonight is Karina’s night, so I won’t be mentioning it.’

  Luc remained silent as he waited for her to go ahead of him.

  ‘Is there something else?’ She paused, close enough to feel his heat warming her.

  ‘You haven’t mentioned missing me.’

  Tingles shimmered down her spine.

  ‘No, that’s right, I haven’t.’ With a last quick glance in his direction, she walked away.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE USUAL CHAOS REIGNED. This was his sister’s annual party madness. He had detailed a squad of security guards to keep an eye on things, but he patrolled the vast marquee, because control was important to him. Control was vital.

  He was looking for one person, and she had not arrived. The noise was ferocious. Even when he left the tent and checked outside, the noise inside easily crested the sound of the surf. This year’s celebration was being held on the beach, far away from the hotel and the sensibilities of his guests. He’d had a vast marquee erected on a piece of land he owned. The suggestion Emma had made about new real estate was ticking away in the back of his mind. He could just as easily build an annex to the hotel here.

  Emma was strong on ideas—strong in many ways. For once in his life he regretted that past experiences had made him the man he was and long-term relationships were off his radar. Life had taught him to be a realist. He’d move on, and so would she.

  His mouth tugged a little as he turned back to face this year’s extravaganza. His sister was an events organiser second to none, which was why he’d hired her. His company was too fast-moving, too successful, to allow for nepotism. Karina’s ideas were always off the wall, which was what made her stand out in the industry.

  This year’s theme was the Arabian Nights, which meant the colossal tent was decked out in every exotic shade under the sun. The walls were composed of billowing silk sheets in a variety of jewel colours, while countless torches lit the scene. There were bare-chested waiters offering guests drinks, and bonfires on the beach where couples or groups could retire to cook their own food if they felt the need to escape the frenzy of the party for a while. The roof of the marquee was pleated and gathered into a small turret enclosed by a golden crown, on top of which flew a flag embellished with the letters K.M.

  It was extravagant, but he would do anything for the sister who was lucky to be alive. Never a day passed when he didn’t remember that he had put her in mortal danger.

  And with that thought making him e
dgy, he searched again for Emma. Where was she? And where was his sister? He didn’t know how he felt about the two of them being in cahoots, but he did know that Karina should be here to greet her guests.

  What would Emma be wearing tonight? He’d seen that flash of fire in her eyes, enough to remind him of the wild woman he’d bedded in London. He doubted Emma would ever lose that side of her completely—he hoped she wouldn’t. He straightened up as he saw her coming down the path. As he had suspected she would be, Emma was arm in arm with his sister. Her laughter reached him first, and then her jade-green gaze settled on his. Tilting her chin at the defiant angle he was becoming used to, she walked straight past him across the sand. The chiffon robe she was wearing was the same colour as her eyes and floated behind her as she walked. Her feet were bare, except for dainty flat, strappy sandals, and she’d painted her toenails shell pink. They gleamed iridescently in the moonlight, while her skin looked paler than usual, highlighting the differences between them.

  He felt like a barbarian lusting after a nymph. It was an arousing thought. In a totally frivolous touch Emma had secured a band of paste emeralds around her brow in an attempt to contain her long red hair. Defying these efforts, it floated around her shoulders like a fiery cloak. He had to have her tonight or he’d go mad.

  ‘But we’re just going to dance,’ his sister protested, when he came to stand between them.

  ‘You should greet your guests,’ he told Karina. ‘Shall we?’ he said to Emma. Without waiting for her answer, he linked arms with her and led her away.

  ‘That was high-handed.’ Emma arched a brow as she stared up at him.

  She didn’t attempt to move away, he noted.

  ‘You are impossible, Lucas,’ she said, using his full name to show her disapproval. ‘You think you can push everyone around, even your own sister, but don’t expect me to come running when you snap your fingers.’

  He had halted at the edge of the surf and moved in front of her. Putting his hands on her arms, he held her where he could look into her eyes. ‘I expect you to come to me of your own accord.’ Emma snatched a breath as he added, ‘Don’t fight me, Emma. Don’t fight this...’