In Bed With the Boss: The Brazilian Boss’s Innocent MistressThe Billionaire Boss’s Innocent BrideThe Surgeon Boss’s Bride Read online

  In Bed with the

  Boss

  The Brazilian Boss’s

  Innocent Mistress

  Sarah

  Morgan

  The Billionaire Boss’s

  Innocent Bride

  Lindsay

  Armstrong

  The Surgeon

  Boss’s Bride

  Melanie

  Milburne

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Powerful, impatient and

  thoroughly irresistible!

  What the boss wants, he always gets!

  And now he has his sights set on his newest

  employee. As the sparks fly after hours …

  opposites attract!

  In Bed with the

  Boss

  Three intense, passionate romances from

  favourite authors Sarah Morgan,

  Lindsay Armstrong and Melanie Milburne

  The Brazilian Boss’s

  Innocent Mistress

  Sarah

  Morgan

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan

  writes lively, sexy stories for both Mills & Boon® Modern™ romance and Medical Romance™.

  As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure, and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic, and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

  Romantic Times has described her writing as “action-packed and sexy”, and nominated her books for their Reviewer’s Choice Awards and their “Top Pick” slot.

  Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors.

  Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

  CHAPTER ONE

  WHAT ON EARTH WAS SHE DOING HERE?

  The helicopter swooped low over the trees and Grace felt her stomach roll.

  Beneath her lay acres and acres of lush tropical rainforest, the canopy forming a dense green umbrella that sheltered and concealed the exotic mysteries of the forest floor. At any other time she would have been captivated by the wild, breathtaking beauty of her surroundings, but she was far too tense to think about anything except the meeting that lay ahead of her. The meeting and the man.

  What on earth was she doing dressed in this ridiculously hot, scratchy suit, flying over the top of the Brazilian rainforest to throw herself at the mercy of a man who apparently didn’t know the meaning of the word?

  Rafael Cordeiro.

  Brilliant, dangerous, damaged. So many words came to mind when thinking of him, none of them tame or soothing. Shockingly wealthy and wielding more power than kings and presidents, he was reputedly so clever with figures that the financial press had likened him to a walking computer. Which didn’t bode well, Grace thought gloomily as she clutched at her seat, given her allergy to technology.

  Beneath her, the trees parted and a swollen river snaked through a deep gorge and plunged over rocks in an explosion of white froth. ‘He has properties all over the world—’ she turned to the pilot, seeking answers to the questions bubbling in her mind ‘—so why is he living all the way out here?’

  The pilot kept his eyes on the treetops. ‘Because the world won’t leave the man alone. He likes his privacy.’

  Which fitted with what she’d heard about him. Ruthless, unemotional, unsentimental—the list of unflattering adjectives went on and on. Considering the man never gave interviews, there was no shortage of information on him. ‘He’s a loner?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call him soft and cuddly, if that’s what you’re asking, not that women seem to mind. Being bad and dangerous just seems to bring them flocking. That and the power. Women can sniff out power from a hundred paces. Power and money.’ The pilot fingered the controls and then glanced towards her. ‘You don’t look like his usual type.’

  His usual type?

  Wondering how anyone could possibly mistake her for a billionaire’s girlfriend, Grace almost laughed. ‘I have a meeting with Mr Cordeiro. His company put up the original investment for my business.’ And that investment had changed her life. ‘He’s what they call a business angel, but I expect you know that, given that you work for him.’

  ‘Angel?’ The pilot convulsed with laughter and the helicopter swooped alarmingly close to the treetops. ‘Rafael Cordeiro—angel?’

  ‘It’s an expression. It means that he invests in small businesses that interest him.’ And he’d been interested in hers. Until recently. The sick feeling in her stomach was suddenly back and Grace lifted her briefcase onto her lap and stroked the surface, trying to solder her fractured confidence.

  The pilot was still laughing. ‘Angel. I don’t know what he does to make his money but I can tell you one thing,’ he fixed his gaze on the horizon and fiddled with the controls, ‘the man is no angel.’

  Refusing to let him frighten her, Grace straightened in her seat. ‘I don’t believe everything I read in the papers.’

  ‘Obviously—’ he glanced towards her and the smile on his craggy, weathered face was faintly pitying ‘—or you wouldn’t be here. I can see you’re a gutsy girl with a mind of your own and that’s good, it will get you a long way out here in the jungle.’

  ‘There’s nothing gutsy about attending a business meeting.’

  ‘That would depend on who you’re doing business with.’ The mountains rose and dipped and the helicopter swooped through a green-clad valley. ‘And where. Not many people have the courage to visit the wolf in his lair.’

  Despite her determination to keep an open mind, Grace felt her mouth dry. ‘You call him the wolf?’

  ‘Not me. That’s what everyone else calls him. I just call him the boss.’ His hands shifted on the controls and the helicopter lost height.

  Losing her stomach and her nerve, Grace closed her eyes briefly and tried not to also lose her lunch. She’d never been any good on roller coasters. ‘I’m sure Mr Cordeiro is a very reasonable man.’

  ‘Are you?’ He fixed his eyes on a spot far below them. ‘Then you’ve obviously never met him. Hold on. We’re going down.’

  ‘Going down?’ Grace stared at him in alarm, her worries about sickness and the dangers of Rafael Cordeiro momentarily eclipsed by that less than reassuring statement. ‘Do you mean we’re landing or we’re crashing?’

  But the pilot didn’t answer. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched as he played with the controls. For a moment it looked as though they were going to plunge into the trees and then, at the last minute, a small landing pad revealed itself and he lowered the machine down, landing like a giant insect in what seemed like a ridiculously small gap between the trees.

  ‘Not crashing, then.’ Grace gave a wobbly smile and let out the breath she’d been holding. ‘I had a mental image of carnage.’

  ‘If you’re meeting with Cordeiro then there’s going to be carnage.’ The pilot flicked a switch in front of him. ‘I’ve s
een grown men in tears after five minutes with him. Take my advice and fight your corner. If there’s one thing the boss hates, it’s wimps. Welcome to the Atlantic rainforest, Miss Thacker. One of the most endangered little ecosystems on our planet.’

  ‘You’re leaving me? Here? In the middle of nowhere?’ Grace turned her head and looked out of the window and only then did she see the lodge—a building that seemed to consist of nothing but glass domes and smooth, weathered wood, it blended into the forest so cleverly that it seemed almost to have grown naturally amongst the trees. ‘Oh.’ She looked at the walkways suspended high above the forest floor. ‘It’s stunning. Amazing.’

  The pilot was laughing to himself. ‘Rafael Cordeiro—angel.’ Still chortling, he wiped a hand over his forehead and removed the beads of sweat. ‘Out you get and keep your head down until you’re clear of the blades. I’m flying back to Rio to pick up a package and then back to São Paulo.’

  Grace sat glued to her seat, unwilling to abandon her last link with civilisation. ‘You’re not waiting? He said I could only have ten minutes …’

  And it was completely ridiculous to have travelled all this way just for ten minutes, but what choice did she have? It was that or give up and there was no way she was giving up. Her one hope was that he’d agree to give her more time because she knew that ten minutes was never going to be enough time to dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into.

  ‘If there’s anything left of you when he’s finished, I’ll come back and pick up the pieces. Take the walkway over there to the left and, whatever you do, don’t stray off the path. This is the jungle, not a theme park. Watch out for the wildlife.’

  ‘Wildlife?’ She’d been too busy worrying about the meeting to even think about wildlife. She glanced dubiously into the dense forest that surrounded them. Some parts were in total shade whereas in others the sun penetrated the thick canopy of trees and was channelled onto the forest floor like spotlights. Was it her imagination or was it all moving? ‘You mean insects?’

  He gave a wicked smile. ‘Over two thousand different species at the last estimation. And they’re just the ones we know about.’

  Trying not to think about all those legs scurrying towards her, Grace smoothed her skirt over her knees and wished she’d worn trousers. ‘And snakes?’

  ‘Oh, yes, there are snakes—’ his grin widened as he glanced towards her thoroughly inadequate shoes ‘—and then there are the giant anteaters, jaguars and the—’

  ‘OK, I think I’ve heard enough,’ she said breathlessly, interrupting him with a shaky smile. Any moment now she’d be clinging to his arm and begging him to fly her home. ‘I’m sure Mr Cordeiro wouldn’t live here if it were that dangerous.’

  The pilot threw back his head and laughed. ‘You obviously don’t know the first thing about him. He lives here because it’s that dangerous, baby doll. He has a low boredom threshold. Likes to live life on the edge, so to speak.’

  Baby doll? The careless way he’d diminished her to nothing irritated Grace sufficiently for her to forget her nerves. All her life she’d been patronised and underestimated. All her life people had doubted and dismissed her. And she’d proved them wrong, over and over again. She’d fought against the odds and she’d succeeded.

  Until now.

  Now she was in danger of losing everything she’d worked for.

  And she wasn’t going to let that happen.

  This was probably the most important fight of her life and she was going to win. She had to win. And to win she had to forget that she was probably the worst person in the world to be given the responsibility of talking numbers with the Brazilian billionaire with the computer brain. She had to forget everything except the consequences of losing. And the people depending on her. If she failed then they lost their jobs, it was as simple as that.

  If Rafael Cordeiro called in his loan, then it was all over.

  The humid, oppressive heat wrapped itself around her like a thick, suffocating cloak and she pushed a damp strand of hair away from her face, her eyes drawn upwards, following the straight lines of the trees that rose to such impressive heights. It was like being in a remote, exotic paradise and it was hard to remember that cities like London and Rio de Janeiro even existed. ‘Isn’t he afraid, living out here?’

  ‘Cordeiro?’ The pilot chewed on a piece of gum and gave a grim smile. ‘He isn’t afraid of anything.’

  Knowing that if she heard any more about the man she wouldn’t have the courage to face him, let alone fight her corner, Grace stumbled out of the helicopter and discovered that her legs were shaking. At that precise moment she would have been hard pressed to say whether she was more afraid of the jungle or Rafael Cordeiro.

  In a world obsessed with celebrity and image, he treated the notion of both with something approaching contempt, rejecting every invitation to talk about himself. And he didn’t need to, because everyone else did the talking for him. The papers were full of curvaceous blondes who’d been persuaded to ‘tell all’ for the right amount of money. And so the whole world knew about his relentless pursuit of his billions, his prowess as a lover and his determined refusal to indulge in ‘happy ever after'.

  Once. Once he’d done that and the news of his glamorous wife’s departure from his life after less than three months of wedded bliss had filled the newspapers with stories that had lasted longer than the marriage.

  He’d been impossible to live with.

  He’d ended their relationship by email.

  He was only interested in making money. And more money.

  The speculation had been endless but if any of it was to be believed then Rafael Cordeiro was little more than a machine and she knew, she just knew, even before she had to fight for her business, that he was going to be just the sort of man that brought out the worst in her.

  She wouldn’t look at him, she promised herself. If she didn’t look at him she wouldn’t become tongue-tied or stammer. She’d just pretend that she was in her small sitting room at home, talking to the mirror as she always did when she had an important presentation to memorise.

  Grace felt her stomach lurch again and this time the feeling of sickness that enveloped her had nothing to do with the helicopter and everything to do with her past. At times like this—times that really mattered—the memories rolled up behind her like a giant wave, waiting to engulf her.

  For her this was the ultimate test. And she wouldn’t fail. She just couldn’t.

  Too much was at stake.

  There was no reason to be afraid of Rafael Cordeiro, she assured herself as she stroked a hand over her straight, formal skirt and forced herself to move forward onto the wooden walkway that was suspended above the forest floor.

  His personal life, no matter how dark, wasn’t her concern. This meeting was about business and, whatever murk hovered around the man, he was a businessman, like her father. When she showed him her plans for taking the business into profit, he’d be positive. He’d change his mind about calling in the loan. She would save everyone’s job and then she could fly home and leave the jaguars, the snakes and the billionaire Brazilian businessman to their jungle hideaway.

  The tropical heat made her suit stick to her body and suddenly she realised just how woefully ill-prepared she was to meet this man. She wasn’t even comfortable in her clothes. Stooping to free the spindly heel of her shoe from the careless bite of the wooden planks beneath her feet, Grace clutched the briefcase in her hand and suddenly wished she’d gone over the figures one more time in the helicopter.

  But what difference would that have made? With the help of her father, she’d committed them to memory. There was nothing in her briefcase that wasn’t already fixed in her mind.

  Jerking her shoe from the jaws of the walkway, she regained her balance and straightened.

  And saw him.

  He stood directly in front of her, as dark and dangerous as anything that might have prowled out of the jungle, his body completely still, his eyes
watchful.

  And he was watching her.

  Entirely unprepared for the physical impact of the man, Grace ceased to breathe. The helicopter, the rainforest and all her problems just seemed to melt into the background and she was conscious only of him.

  His tarnished reputation had caused her mind to conjure up physical images that were so far removed from reality that for a moment Grace couldn’t do anything except stare, as hundreds of women had undoubtedly stared before her.

  His eyes locked on hers with the lethal accuracy of a deadly weapon and the breath left her body and every thought was sucked from her mind. For a wildly unsettling moment she couldn’t remember anything about herself. She couldn’t remember what she was doing here. Her body felt strangely lethargic and warmth as thick as treacle spread slowly through her limbs.

  ‘Miss Thacker?’ The hard bite of his deep, masculine voice was sufficient to wake her from her dreamy contemplation of his manly attributes and she gave a little start, desperately hoping that he hadn’t noticed her embarrassing reaction.

  So much for being cool and businesslike, she thought. And so much for her plan not to look at him. His physical presence and his film-star looks demanded attention. As she stood there gaping, it was a struggle to remind herself that this man was said to be ruthless and cold-hearted. For her, that wasn’t a winning combination of character traits.

  Looking into his deep-set, cynical eyes, she decided that there was something about his cool scrutiny that made him more menacing and intimidating than all the jungle predators put together and she knew in an instant that his pilot had been telling the truth about one thing—this man was no angel.

  Forcing her legs to move, she walked towards him, her briefcase in one hand, the other seeking the reassurance of the rough rope handrail.

  Even without the benefit of billions of dollars, Rafael Cordeiro would have attracted women. His hair was blue-black and swept back from a face that was as hard as it was handsome. The golden sheen of his bronzed skin betrayed his Brazilian heritage and the soft fabric of his casual shirt clung to shoulders that were wide and powerful.