Brazillian Affiar Part 9
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"Yes. And yes again." He kissed her cheek. "Good night, darling, and pleasant dreams."
Once out of sight, Roland was out of her mind and all she could think of was Lucas and the harsh way he had regarded her in the restaurant tonight. If he had so little trust in her that he was scared of her going out with one of his compet.i.tors, he should never have brought her here. In fact, now she came to think of it, he had expressly asked her to get some pretty dresses in order to try and cajole information and gossipy t.i.tbits from his rivals. Yet the very moment one of them seemed attracted to her, he went berserk with rage.
Mulling on this, she opened the sitting-room door, stopping with a gasp as she saw Lucas already there.
"I didn't think you'd be back so early." she said breathlessly.
"I left soon after you. I came back a shorter route."
With a nod she made to walk to her room, but he called her back.
"Masterson's fallen for you, hasn't he?"
"He likes me," she answered.
"He wants you," Lucas said flatly. "And you obviously want him. If you didn't, you wouldn't insist on going out with him against my wishes."
"I don't happen to think your wishes should control what I do with my free time."
"But why waste it? He won't marry you."
Astonished, she gaped at him. "What makes you think I see Roily as a future husband? I've only known him a - a couple of days."
"From the way you were looking into each other's eyes..."
"I could say the same of you and Senhora Lopez."
"I've known Maya for years," he snapped.
"Very well known, I'd say," she snapped back.
"I'm a man. I can take care of myself."
"And the Senhora?"
"Maya is a widow - not an innocent girl like you."
"Ha!" For the life of her Philippa did not know what made her utter such a derisive sound. "What makes you think I'm innocent ? I might not be your type, but quite a few men have wanted to make love to me."
"I don't doubt it."
"Then mind your own business." Anger rose high in her. "In fact that's all you're capable of doing! Business is all you care about. Women mean nothing to you, except as bodies to idle away a few boring hours!"
"Perhaps I should start concentrating on your body," he said, eyeing her insolently. "I'd be better for you than Masterson. He's a ruthless man who'll -"
"And what are you ? Kind and gentle ?"
"I can be. And I live in England. We could have fun together."
Philippa felt the breath catch in her throat. She hated quarrelling with Lucas - it was like tearing at her heart - but it was infinitely preferable to having him make these salacious remarks to her.
"Don't talk to me like that," she choked. "I'm not one of your... I wouldn't... Oh, I hate you!"
"Do you?" he questioned, and striding across the small s.p.a.ce that separated them, pulled her roughly into his arms. "Aren't you looking for love, Philippa ? Aren't you hungry for romance and pa.s.sion?"
"Not with you." She struggled to free herself, but he would not let her go.
"Why not with me?"
Before she had a chance to answer, his mouth closed hard on hers, the pressure so intense that it forced her lips apart. A wave of heat engulfed her and she began to tremble. Many times in the last few days she had dreamed of Lucas holding her, and touching her, but never had she thought it would be with l.u.s.t and fury. She wanted something different... so different.
Tears poured from her eyes and touched his skin and he drew back slowly and searched her face, though his hands still gripped her like iron bands.
"It's no use fighting," he said huskily. "You've been asking for this since we got here."
Once again he kissed her, his teeth bruising her lips. Deliberately his hands moved across her back, then down to her hips and up again to touch her neck. She forced herself not to respond to him, but as his hands moved, desire took hold of her. It was as though every fibre of her wanted to be close to him. She was self-contained no longer, but an empty vessel that could only be filled by his nearness. Her arms came up and around his neck, pulling his head closer.
At the gesture the fierceness of his hold lessened, the heavy pressure of his mouth decreased and tenderness took its place. No longer was he the master showing his control over her. Emotions he could no longer command had now taken him over, carrying him away on a flood of pa.s.sion that threatened to overwhelm them both. Again and again he kissed her, as if he could never hold her near enough, and again and again she responded to him until finally she lay against his chest, too shaken to move and too exhausted to pretend.
"Lucas," she said huskily.
He held her away from him. His skin was s.h.i.+ning with a faint film of perspiration and his eyes were so dark it was impossible to discern their expression. Only his voice, deep and slurred, gave indication of his feelings.
"That's the second time you've made me lose control of myself."
"Are you sorry ?"
"I have to compete against men in business," he said. "But I make it a practice never to compete for a woman."
"Then why-"
"Because I wanted to show you how ripe you are for the plucking. Masterson, me, any other man."
She swayed and caught at the back of a chair. "You said some pretty low things to me, Lucas, but that's the lowest!"
"It's for your own good."
"I'll remember that when I decide to go to bed with Roily:"
"Philippa!"
"Shut up," she cried. "Shut up and get out of my life!"
CHAPTER SIX.
The next morning Philippa had to force herself to leave the sanctuary of her bedroom, and only the fear that Lucas would be forced to seek her out gave her the nerve to open her door and take the few steps that separated her from the living-room.
There was no sign of Lucas though the door to his bedroom was open and, as she crossed to her desk and fitted her typewriter into its travelling case, she glimpsed the edge of his unmade bed and the cream silk of his pyjama jacket thrown across it.
Though she made as little noise as possible he came out at once - almost as if he had been listening for her - and despite her resolution to keep her emotions under control, the sight of him made her tremble.
"I want to apologise for last night," he said without preamble. His face was colourless and she knew that whatever it cost her to listen to him, it cost him even more to speak.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said with an effort, "I want to forget it."
"If we don't talk about it, it will make it awkward for us to work together." He hesitated, then said quickly: "I take it you do intend to go on working forme?"
"Until we return home."
"I see." He drew in his lower lip. "It - it wouldn't happen again. You needn't be afraid of that."
"I'm not afraid," she said coldly. "I just don't want to go on seeing you each day."
"If you want to go back to England right away..."
"No, thank you. I came here to help you and I'm willing to stay."
"I'm glad. I'd be upset if you left. And not just because you're an excellent secretary but because I - I like you."
Colour stained her cheeks and she pretended to be busy at the desk, stacking papers that were already in order.
"Incidentally," he went on, "I want to thank you for not locking your door."
"I didn't think you'd go that far to show me the sort of romance I'm looking for!"
This time he was the one to colour, and she was fascinated to see a dark tide of red wash over his face.
"Philippa, I-"
"We don't want to miss the plane," she interrupted. "Are you packed ?"
"Yes. We needn't bother with a porter. I'll carry our cases myself."
An hour later they were airborne in a jet, flying north from Rio.
"It's pretty primitive where we're going," Lucas said as the lights flashed on for them to undo their seat belts if they so desired. "Amazon country is to be endured, not enjoyed. The Brazilians call it the Green h.e.l.l."
"Who lives there ?" she asked.
"Prospectors, miners, planters - rubber, cocoa and coffee - and primitive Indians, of course, though they're a dying race."
"I've seen some horrific films about what the white man has done to them in order to give them the benefits of our so-called civilisation. It made me ashamed of being white."
"Me too. But the country has to be opened up, you know. There are minerals there that the world is desperate to get."
"And dams have to be built," she added dryly.
"Don't let's quarrel..." he begged.
"I wasn't going to. I was merely stating what you were thinking. I don't blame you for being so ambitious. After all, people like you helped to get us our Empire."
"We don't have one now," he said humorously. "Is there a point there that I should think about?"
She refused to be drawn and he leaned back in his seat. "There's a parcel at your feet," he said. "You might like to open it."
Curiously she did so, amazed to see three large and expensive travel books on Brazil.
"I remembered your bookless state when I was out shopping yesterday," he explained as she thanked him. "They should keep you occupied for the next week."
"It was very thoughtful of you." She touched one of the lavish covers. "They're gorgeous."
"You're easily pleased, Philippa. I've known some young women show far less enthusiasm over a present from Cartier."
"I'm not surprised," she retorted, his comment diminis.h.i.+ng her pleasure in his gift and making her feel naive. "This is probably one of the first presents you've given that hasn't been chosen by your secretary!"
He adjusted his seat and quizzed her from between narrowed eyes. "You have a disconcerting talent for hitting where it hurts. It must have got you into a lot of trouble."
She shook her head. "I've never been as outspoken to anyone as I have to you."
"That goes for me too. I never even knew the first name of my previous secretary, and she was with me for five years."
"You wouldn't have known mine either if we hadn't come to Brazil."
"Yes, I would. I was thinking of you as Philippa for months." He saw her features grow rigid and said hurriedly: "I'm not going to make another pa.s.s at you. I'm just being honest."
"Are you ever honest with women?" she asked.
"Not usually. But you're different."
"You mean I'm no woman, I'm your secretary!"
He grinned. "Something like that."
As a remark it did nothing for her ego, but since she knew he was trying to establish a camaraderie with her in order to allay any fears she might have about him, she could not make any sarcastic comment.
To her chagrin he began working on some papers and did not lift his head from them until they touched down at Belem three hours later.
Before the doors were opened the heat seemed to rise up from the ground and engulf them, and the short walk from aircraft to reception bay was through a suffocating damp that made the sticky air of Rio seem almost invigorating in retrospect. In a few brief moments the crisp pique suit she had worn for the journey was reduced to limpness, and even Lucas, normally impervious to heat, mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief.
Having made good use of Lucas's books during the flight, Philippa knew that Belem was not only the largest city in Northern Brazil but the chief harbour for the whole Amazon region, with a history going back to the beginning of the sixteenth century and a population as polyglot and tough as the Mississippi in its heyday. But to her disappointment all she saw of it was a rooftop view from the lookout cabin of the helicopter to which they transferred ten minutes after arriving at the airport.
Brazillian Affiar Part 9
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Brazillian Affiar Part 9 summary
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