The Trouble With Coco Monroe

by CC MacKenzie

  Coco took another sip.

  That was good news.

  There would be safety in numbers.

  The woman’s refuge centres they’d begun five years ago had spread throughout the country. First Step was proving to be a twenty-four seven operation. What had started out helping a terrified young girl in trouble had turned into something quite different.

  They worked to their individual strengths. Louise was an organiser par excellence so she ran operations. Coco was the money generator and financial analyst. Her lips tilted with a small smile. If her father could only see her now. The apple didn’t fall very far from the tree, that’s for sure.

  “Morning, girls.”

  Louise choked on her coffee.

  Dressed in ancient blue jeans that fit in all the right places and a soft pale blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Rafe, with dark hair that appeared to be towel dried from the shower, picked up a happy-to-see-him Jezebel.

  Coco eyed him warily.

  Wow, he might be hot in the power suits, but this was a whole new man.

  Stunning.

  Sexy.

  Dangerous.

  For some reason the fact he hadn’t shaved had her heart doing a rapid tap dance in her chest.

  He grinned.

  And she told her crazy pulse to calm the hell down.

  Somebody had got out of the good side of the bed.

  Maybe he was a morning person?

  Coco sent Rafe an evil little look.

  “Sorry, Lou. I forgot to mention I have an unwelcome guest.”

  His slow sexy smile in response caused a blush to sweep up her neck to the roots of her short hair.

  Her reaction to him instantly put her back up.

  His gaze took its time, travelling from the top of her head over her off the shoulder sweat top and matching black pants.

  She never wore shoes in the house and he appeared riveted by her bare feet, which made her scrunch her toes.

  The move brought a twitch to his lips.

  His eyes met hers.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped.

  Rafe simply smiled in a way that had her fingers itch to throw something at him.

  “I like looking at you.”

  For the life of her she couldn’t think of a suitable response to the statement as he moved to a cupboard, snagged a mug and helped himself to coffee from the pot.

  With a wicked gleam in his eye, he placed his mug next to hers, grabbed her and gave her a hard, hungry kiss.

  Shock.

  It must be shock that had her melt against him, that had her mouth open to let him taste, to take.

  Mmm, he tasted fabulous and smelt even better, all squeaky clean, minty breath and wonderfully male.

  Strong arms held her close, too close, against him.

  Her fingers pressed into rock hard biceps before sliding up and around his neck.

  His tongue stroked hers in a way that made her shudder.

  This really needed... to... stop...

  Her mind went blank as every logical thought spilled right out of her ears.

  He released her, grinned down into her stunned face.

  “Morning, doll face.”

  Eyes flicking from one to the other, Louise shook her head and moved towards a narrow corridor. “I’ll get started. If you need me I’ll be in my office.”

  Coco blinked as her brain scrambled to catch up.

  “What did you do that for?” she demanded.

  Rafe shrugged, pinched an apple from the fruit bowl, bit into it and crunched.

  “You’d better get used to it.”

  The man was unbelievable.

  Who the hell did he think he was, coming in here, kissing her, drinking her coffee, kissing her, eating her food as if he... kissing her, as if he belonged here... or something.

  But the way temper was replaced by a delayed reaction of pure lust curling between her legs, the way her nipples throbbed and ached with need, horrified her.

  This was not good, not good at all.

  To distract herself Coco clanged a heavy frying pan on the hob, yanked on the gas and stalked to the fridge for bacon and eggs. Then banged a cupboard after she’d snagged a loaf of bread.

  She turned and gave him the evil eye.

  “How many eggs?”

  “Two, thanks. If you’re cooking, I’ll set the table.”

  She instructed him on where the mats and the cutlery lived.

  He was quick and efficient as he set the table.

  Leaning a hip on the worktop, he sipped his coffee watching her with a gleam in his eye that was seriously ticking her off.

  She ignored the chuckle he made as she expertly cracked four eggs to join the bacon.

  “I’d no idea you could cook.”

  She beaned him with a cool look.

  “I would hardly call this cooking. Toast?”

  “Please. You know, I’m seeing you in a whole new light. If someone had told me you were domesticated I would’ve sent them to their nearest shrink.”

  Asshole.

  Rolling her tongue over her top teeth, Coco turned the bacon.

  “You don’t know everything, Rafael.” She turned to him with a smug little smile. “Even though you think you do. And that, my friend, will be your downfall.”

  “Ah, Coco, you want me on my knees before you.”

  Because the comment put a picture in her head she didn’t want there and had her hormones flashing on red alert, she sneered at him.

  “Trust me, if you were crawling battered and bloody on your belly, I would step right over you.”

  She served his food and handed him the plate.

  With a stupid grin on his stupid face, he bent to kiss her.

  She slid out of reach.

  He followed her to the table and sat next to her.

  Those dark eyes caught hers and he smiled.

  “You only call me Rafael when you’re annoyed with me. For some reason, and I’ve no idea why, it really turns me on.”

  Did it indeed?

  She crunched on a piece of bacon and picked up her cup.

  “Thanks for the newsflash. I’ll make certain never to call you by that name again.” She sipped, eyed him over the rim. “Don’t worry, I’ve plenty of other names I call you.”

  With the light of fun in his eyes, Rafe sipped his coffee.

  “Louise mentioned something about working in her office?”

  Coco’s belly did an unpleasant little jig.

  “Yep.”

  He frowned as he wolfed down his food.

  “She has an office here?”

  Coco took a leisurely sip of her coffee, keeping a close eye on him.

  “Yep.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, this and that.”

  And watched him mull over the response as they ate in a companionable silence.

  Coco didn’t do domesticated breakfasts with men.

  But for some strange reason it felt right that Rafe was sitting at her table eating her food, drinking her coffee.

  Honey whined and she rose to slide open heavy glass doors to let the dogs out.

  She turned and found him watching her quizzically.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Standing, he organised the empty dishes and moved them to the sink.

  He found the dishwasher and started loading.

  Coco struggled not to be impressed.

  In her admittedly limited experience most men were not exactly tidy in the kitchen.

  He caught her eye and she noticed his were serious now.

  “You look like someone I knew a long time ago.”

  “Who?”

  He shook his head as he closed the dishwasher.

  “Someone I admired and liked very much.”

  Oh well, not her then, Coco decided. Probably one of his intellectual types. His last squeeze had been an orthopaedic surgeon. Not that
she was interested, much.

  Why was he staring at her like that?

  Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks.

  “Right, well...” She tossed him a nervous smile. “Busy, busy, people to talk to... you know... stuff to do.”

  “Really?” He smiled again and this time it forcibly reminded her of a killer whale. “Why don’t I tag along?”

  Heart hammering in her throat Coco knew intellectually that this moment had been inevitable since she’d agreed to have him in her home.

  With a forced bravado she gave a shrug.

  “Okay, follow me.”

  She padded down a long corridor with Rafe hot on her heels.

  The scent of his shower gel and his signature cologne nudged her senses.

  Opening the door to her office, she stepped aside to let him pass.

  A U shaped desk sat in front of a huge minimalist painting in slashing greens and blues on a white background.

  On one side of the room a wall of glass framed views of the garden and lake. The opposite end of the office housed two four-seater leather sofas the colour of strawberry jam. They sat either side of a brushed steel modern log burner suspended from the ceiling. A narrow solid-wood coffee table in bleached oak ran between the sofas. On another wall were four twenty-four hour clocks each set to the time of the countries labelled above them. New York, Hong Kong, Sydney and London.

  Coco sat herself in an ergonomically designed chair, clicked on her keyboard. Four linked flat screens flared to life around her desk.

  She opened a narrow drawer, plucked out a pair of black-framed glasses and perched them on her nose. With her attention on financial updates, she sensed him moving around, heard him whistle through his teeth as he poked through towers of brochures and literature piled on a couple of serving tables.

  He took a selection to a couch, sat and spent time going through them.

  “You support First Step?” he muttered and then looked at her. “It’s an excellent cause. I know Samson gives time to it.”

  That’s what you think, pal.

  Coco merely sent him a nod as she studied him over her glasses.

  With one eye on him, she kept her tongue firmly between her teeth and continued to work.

  He flicked open a couple of reports and she saw him frown.

  However, he didn’t say a word while he studied the documents.

  Nervous tension coiled in her gut and she ordered herself to settle down.

  What was the worst he could do?

  There was a knock on the door and Louise poked her head in.

  “I’ve managed to book the conference call for ten-thirty and the Prince’s secretary wants you to phone back asap.”

  She slid her eyes toward Rafe still busy with a report.

  Coco met her eyes and grimaced.

  “Thanks.”

  Rafe flicked a glance as Louise closed the door.

  Tossing the report aside, he rose and strolled around Coco’s desk.

  He swivelled her chair to face him and placed his hands on the armrests, bringing his face to hers.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Through nerves and expectation, actually – she was.

  Giving him big wide eyes Coco was determined not to notice how mouth-wateringly wonderful he smelt, how intense those dark eyes were or how beautiful his mouth was or how well defined his jaw was or...

  He plucked her glasses from her nose and placed them on her desk.

  His jaw clenched as he scanned all four screens.

  Then his eyes met hers, narrowed.

  “Quite the little tycoon, aren’t we?” he said softly. The tone was solid ice.

  The door opened and Louise came in with a large tray of refreshments.

  Rafe gave Coco a bland look, stood and folded his arms, his features implacable.

  Louise placed the tray on the coffee table and made herself comfortable on a couch.

  With a quick glance at Coco, she poured three coffees, took one for herself and sat back.

  Her green eyes dancing, she eyed Rafe over the rim of the cup.

  “Why don’t you sit and have a drink, Rafe,” she instructed in a soothing tone.

  He did as he she asked, whipped a cookie off the plate and bit into it.

  Coco joined Louise, picked up her cup.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Those dark eyes met hers.

  “You support First Step?”

  “We are First Step among other things.”

  His brows rose as he sipped his coffee, looked from one to the other.

  Those eyes went as sharp as a blade.

  “Impressive. Where did you get funding? Who backed you?”

  Ah yes, that was Rafe, follow the money. Her father had taught him well.

  “No one funded us.”

  He smiled even as those dark eyes oozed disbelief.

  “There’s no way you raised funds without help, Coco.”

  The tone and the smirk made her toe tingle to kick his butt, hard.

  The realisation that he still regarded her as less than capable was like a hot knife to the gut, but she determinedly ignored it.

  How the hell she wondered with something like dismay could she be remotely attracted to a man who had little or no respect for her?

  Eyes hot, Louise clattered the cup and saucer onto the table and leaned forward.

  “Coco has spent six years working around the clock.” She waved at the clocks on the wall. “To build a solid financial base for the good of others.”

  Rafe bit into another cookie and sent her a cold stare.

  “Okay, but the start-up money must have come from somewhere.” He looked at Coco. “Don’t forget I was there when your father explained why you wouldn’t receive your inheritance until you were thirty.”

  Coco would never forget that day either.

  How she’d kept the disappointment and fury contained she never knew. They’d been relying on the funds to launch another safe house. Looking back, her father had done them a huge favour. These days she was totally self-sufficient. Apart from ruthlessly exploiting her father’s bottomless cheque book for couture, shoes and designer bags. At one time, she’d felt guilty, but these days she was happy to tap his generosity for a good cause.

  “We sell the outfits I wear on a website Louise created. You would be amazed at how much a purse, a pair of shoes, or a dress worn by Coco Monroe can make.”

  He blinked and frowned.

  “Yes, but not enough to launch and pay for all this.”

  She actually felt sorry for him for a moment then wondered why she was so disappointed in him? He was cut from the same cloth as her father and brother. Women had no place in business.

  “I invested every penny of our capital, which included a substantial legacy from my grandmother, on a strategic gamble five years ago and made a killing. I received a tip-off that the price of a certain commodity was due to take-off. In fact, I receive regular tip-offs about the markets.”

  “Who?”

  She sent him a fulminating look.

  “Do you really believe I’ve attended Sunday lunch with my father for the past ten years and learned nothing at the table?”

  He gaped at her. “But that’s insider trading.”

  Louise choked on her coffee.

  Son-of-a-bitch.

  How dare he?

  Coco leapt to her feet.

  “I have never purchased or sold Monroe Industries stock.” Fury scorched her cheeks. “However, if my father had an opinion on something I was interested in and it followed my gut instincts it would be stupid of me not to listen.” He opened his mouth and she jabbed a finger towards him. “And I am very, very good at what I do.”

  Pulse thundering in her ears Coco stalked to her desk and waved to the screens.

  “Help yourself and have a look. I’ve nothing to hide.”

  The look on his face made her stomach clutch.

  The expression
in his eyes was one of thoughtful anxiety.

  “What?” she almost yelled.

  His eyes stayed on hers.

  “Why on earth didn’t you tell your father? He’ll be delighted when he learns of this.”

  He still didn’t get it.

  Louise swore under her breath and he looked from one to the other in genuine bewilderment.

  Coco simply stared at him.

  Then spoke very slowly as if speaking to an imbecile,

  “My father, and it hurts me to say this, is a control freak and a chauvinist. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d take over, convinced that he could do better than the little women, with you and my brothers bringing up the rear banging the same drum.”

  Rafe leaned forward now, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her with dark brooding eyes.

  “The man loves you, adores you.”

  Coco knew that was true.

  Her throat began to ache and her stomach burned.

  How could she to put into words the feelings churning through her system?

  “You’re right. But he’s also a controlling, manipulative old plotter.” She walked to the window and stared out not seeing the fabulous view and spoke from the heart, “He’s an iron fist in a velvet glove.” She spun around to stare into those unfathomable eyes and what she saw there filled her with dismay. “He’s so overprotective he suffocates me. There are times when I’ve felt unable to breathe. He refuses to really see me.”

  “Have you tried talking to him?”

  She rolled her eyes to heaven.

  “Oh please, anytime I’ve tried to have an opinion he shoots me down. And so does Ethan, so do Bruce and Wallace and so do you.”

  He looked so stunned she might have slapped him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She nodded.

  “I know you don’t, because you have a penis. Monroe Industries is a boys’ club. And quite frankly, I am sick and tired of the boys’ attitude.”

  His eyes went dark with outrage. “Is this an attention seeking thing?”

  Coco exchanged a look with Louise, which said, ‘What the hell do you do with him?’ and shook her head.

  “No,” she explained, holding onto patience by her fingernails. “It’s about being treated as an equal thing.” At his blank expression, she slapped her hands on the back of the sofa and leaned over. “Describe me in ten words.”