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Revenge In The Boardroom: Fonseca's Fury / Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? / Unfinished Business
Revenge In The Boardroom: Fonseca's Fury / Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? / Unfinished Business

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Revenge In The Boardroom: Fonseca's Fury / Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? / Unfinished Business

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He thought of the paparazzi pictures of her shopping in Paris while he’d been leaving Italy under a cloud of disgrace, and bitterness laced his voice. ‘Meanwhile you were oblivious to the fallout, continuing your hedonistic existence. And after all that, you have the temerity to think that I would so much as allow your name to be mentioned in the same sentence as mine?’

If possible, she paled even more, displaying the genes she’d inherited from her half-English mother, a classic English rose beauty.

He straightened up. ‘You disgust me.’

Serena was dimly aware that on some level his words were hurting her in a place that she shouldn’t be feeling hurt. But something dogged deep inside had pushed her to plead. And she had.

His eyes were like dark, hard sapphires. Impervious to heat or cold or her pleas. He was right. He was the one man on the planet who would never give her a chance. She was delusional to have thought even for a second that he might hear her out.

The atmosphere in the office was positively glacial in comparison to the gloriously sunny day outside. Luca Fonseca was just looking at her. Serena’s belly sank. He wasn’t even going to say another word. He’d said everything. He’d just wanted to see her, to torture her. Make her realise just how much he hated her—as if she had been in any doubt.

She finally admitted defeat and turned to the door. There would be no reprieve. Hitching up her chin in a tiny gesture of dignity, she didn’t glance back at him, not wanting to see that arctic expression again. As if she was something distasteful on the end of his shoe.

She opened the door, closed it behind her, and was met by his cool assistant who was waiting for her. And who’d undoubtedly been privy to the plans of her boss well before Serena had been. Silently she was escorted downstairs.

Her humiliation was complete.

* * *

Ten minutes later Luca spoke tersely into his phone. ‘Call me as soon as you know she’s boarded and the plane has left.’

When he’d terminated the call Luca swivelled around in his high-backed chair to face the view. His blood was still boiling with a mixture of anger and arousal. Why had he indulged in the dubious desire to see her face to face again? All it had done was show him his own weakness for her.

He hadn’t even known she was on her way to Rio until his assistant had informed him; the significance of her arrival had only come to light far too late to do anything about it.

Serena DePiero. Just her name brought an acrid taste of poison to his mouth. And yet the image that accompanied her name was anything but poisonous. It was provocative. It was his first image of her in that nightclub in Florence.

He’d known who she was, of course. No one could have gone to Florence and not known who the DePiero sisters were—famed for their light-haired, blue-eyed aristocratic beauty and their vast family fortune that stretched back to medieval times. Serena had been the media’s darling. Despite her debauched existence, no matter what she did, they’d lapped it up and bayed for more.

Her exploits had been legendary: high-profile weekends in Rome, leaving hotels trashed and staff incandescent with rage. Whirlwind private jet trips to the Middle East on the whim of an equally debauched sheikh who fancied a party with his Eurotrash friends. And always pictured in various states of inebriation and loucheness that had only seemed to heighten her dazzling appeal.

The night he’d seen her she’d been in the middle of the dance floor in what could only be described as an excuse for a dress. Strapless gold lamé, with tassels barely covering the top of her toned golden thighs. Long white-blonde hair tousled and falling down her back and over her shoulders, brushing the enticing swell of a voluptuous cleavage. Her peers had jostled around her, vying for her attention, desperately trying to emulate her golden exclusiveness.

With her arms in the air, swaying to the hedonistic beat of music played by some world-class DJ, she had symbolised the very font of youth and allure and beauty. The kind of beauty that made grown men fall to their knees in wonder. A siren’s beauty, luring them to their doom.

Luca’s mouth twisted. He’d proved to be no better than any other mortal man when she’d lured him to his doom. He took responsibility for being in that club—of course he did. But from the moment she’d sashayed over to stand in front of him everything had grown a little hazy. And Luca was not a person who got hazy. No matter how stunning the woman. His whole life was about being clear and focused, because he had a lot to achieve.

But her huge bright blue eyes had seared him alive, igniting every nerve-ending, blasting aside any concerns. Her skin was flawless, her aquiline nose a testament to her breeding. Her mouth had fascinated him. Perfectly sculpted lips. Not too full, not too thin, effortlessly hinting at a dark and sexy sensuality.

She’d said coquettishly, ‘It’s rude to stare, you know.’

And instead of turning on his heel in disgust at her reputation and her arrogance, Luca had felt the blood flow through his body, hardening it, and he’d drawled softly, ‘I’d have to be blind not to be dazzled. Join me for a drink?’

She’d tossed her head and for a second Luca had thought he glimpsed something curiously vulnerable and weary in those stunning blue eyes, but it had to have been a trick of the strobing lights, because then she’d purred, ‘I’d love to.’

The wisps of memory faded from Luca’s mind. He hated it that even now, just thinking of her, was having an effect on his body. Seven years had passed, and yet he felt as enflamed by anger and desire as he had that night. A bruising, humiliating mix.

He’d just left Serena DePiero in no doubt as to what he thought of her. She’d effectively been fired from her job. So why wasn’t there a feeling of triumph rushing through him? Why was there an unsettling, prickling feeling of...unfinished business?

And why was there the tiniest grudging sliver of admiration for the way she had not backed down from him and the way that small chin had tipped up ever so slightly just before she’d left?

CHAPTER TWO

THE HOTEL WAS a few blocks back from Copacabana beach. To say that it was basic was an understatement, but it was clean—which was the main thing. And cheap—which was good, considering Serena was living off her meagre savings from the last year. She took off her travelling clothes, which were well creased by now, and stepped into the tiny shower, relishing the lukewarm spray.

Her belly clenched minutely when she imagined Luca’s reaction to her not leaving Rio but she pushed it aside. She’d been standing in line for the check-in when her sister had phoned her. Too heartsore to admit that she was coming home so soon, and suddenly aware that Athens didn’t even really feel like home, Serena had made a spur-of-the-moment decision to tell a white lie and pretend everything was okay.

And, even though she’d hated lying—to her sister, of all people—she didn’t regret it now. She was still angry at Luca Fonseca’s easy dismissal of her, the way he’d toyed with her before kicking her out of his office.

It had been enough to propel her out of the airport and back into the city. She scrubbed her scalp with unnecessary force, not liking how turbulent her emotions still were after meeting him again, and she certainly didn’t like admitting that he’d roused her to a kind of anger she hadn’t felt in a long time. Angry enough to rebel...when she’d thought she’d left all that behind her.

When she emerged from the bathroom she had a towel hitched around her body and another one on her head, and was feeling no less disgruntled. She almost jumped out of her skin when a loud, persistent knocking came on her door.

Scrambling around to find something to put on, Serena called out to whoever it was to wait a second as she pulled on some underwear and faded jeans and a T-shirt. The towel fell off her head so her long hair hung damply down her back and over her shoulders.

She opened the door and it was as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She couldn’t draw breath because Luca Fonseca was standing there, eyes shooting sparks at her, looking angrier than she’d ever seen him.

‘What the hell are you doing here, DePiero?’ he snarled.

Serena answered faintly, ‘You seem to be asking me that a lot lately.’

And then the fright he’d just given her faded and the anger she’d been harbouring swelled back. Her hand gripped the door.

‘Actually, I might ask the same of you—what the hell are you doing here, Fonseca?’ Something occurred to her. ‘And how on earth did you even know where I was?’

His mouth was a tight line. ‘I told Sancho, my driver, to wait at the airport and make sure you got on the flight.’

The extent of how badly he’d wanted her gone hit her. Her hand gripped the door even tighter. ‘This is a free country, Fonseca. I decided to stay and do a little sightseeing, and as I no longer work for you I really don’t think you have any jurisdiction here.’

She went to close the door in his face but he easily stopped her and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and forcing her to take a step back.

His arctic gaze took in her appearance with derision and Serena crossed her arms over her braless chest, self-conscious.

‘Mr Fonseca—’

‘Enough with the Mr Fonseca. Why are you still here, Serena?’

His use of her name made something swoop inside her. She crossed her arms tighter. It reminded her bizarrely of how it had felt to kiss him in the middle of that dance floor. Dark and hot and intoxicating. No other man’s kiss or touch had ever made her feel like that. She’d pulled back from him in shock, as if his kiss had incinerated her, right through to where she was still whole. Herself.

‘Well?’

The curt question jarred Serena back to the present and she hated it that she’d remembered that feeling of exposure.

‘I want to see Rio de Janeiro before going home.’ As if she would confide that she also wanted to delay revealing the extent of her failure to her family for as long as possible.

Luca snorted indelicately. ‘Do you have any idea where you are? Were you planning on taking a stroll along the beach later?’

Serena gritted her jaw. ‘I was, actually. I’d invite you to join me, but I’m sure you have better things to be doing.’

His sheer animal magnetism was almost overwhelming in the small space. The beard and his longer hair only added to his intense masculinity. Her skin prickled with awareness. She could feel her nipples tighten and harden against the barrier of her thin T-shirt and hated the unique way this man affected her above any other.

Luca was snarling again. ‘Do you realise that you’re in one of the most dangerous parts of Rio? You’re just minutes from one of the worst favelas in the city.’

Serena resisted the urge to point out that that should please him. ‘But the beach is just blocks away.’

Now he was grim. ‘Yes, and no one goes near this end of the beach at night unless they’re out to score some drugs or looking to get mugged. It’s one of the most dangerous places in the city after dark.’

He stepped closer and his eyes narrowed on her speculatively.

‘But maybe that’s it? You’re looking for some recreational enhancement? Maybe your family have you under their watch and you’re relishing some freedom? Have you even told them you’ve been fired?’

Serena’s arms fell to her sides and she barely noticed Luca’s gaze dropping to her chest before coming up again. All she felt was an incredible surge of anger and hatred for this man and his perspicacity—even if it wasn’t entirely accurate.

Disgusted at the part of her that wanted to try and explain herself to him, she spat out, ‘What’s the point?’

She stalked around Luca and reached for the door handle, but before she could turn it and open the door an arm came over her head, keeping the door shut. She turned and folded her arms again, glaring up at Luca, conscious of her bare feet and damp hair, trying desperately not to let his sheer physicality affect her.

‘If you don’t leave in five seconds I’ll start screaming.’

Luca kept his arm on the door, semi caging Serena in. ‘The manager will just assume we’re having fun. You can’t be so naive that you didn’t notice this place rents rooms by the hour.’

Serena felt hot. First of all at thinking of this man making her scream with pleasure and then at her own naivety.

‘Of course I didn’t,’ she snapped, feeling vulnerable. She scooted out from under Luca’s arm and put some space between them.

Luca crossed his arms. ‘No, I can imagine you didn’t. After all, it’s not what you’re used to.’

Serena thought of the Spartan conditions of the rehab facility she’d been in in England for a year, and then of her tiny studio apartment in a very insalubrious part of Athens. She smiled sweetly. ‘How would you know?’

Luca scowled then. ‘You’re determined to stay in Rio?’

Never more so than right now. Even if just to annoy this man. ‘Yes.’

Luca looked as though he would cheerfully throttle her. ‘The last thing I need right now is some eagle-eyed reporter spotting you out and about, clubbing or shopping.’

Serena bit back a sharp retort. He had no idea what her life was like now. Clubbing? Shopping? She couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Her smile got even sweeter. ‘I’ll wear a Louis Vuitton bag over my head while I go shopping for the latest Chanel suit. Will that help?’

That didn’t go down well. Blood throbbed visibly in Luca’s temple. ‘You leaving Rio would be an even bigger help.’

Serena unconsciously mimicked his wide-legged stance. ‘Well, unless you’re planning on forcibly removing me, that’s not going to happen. And if you even try such a thing I’ll call the police and tell them you’re harassing me.’

Luca didn’t bother to tell her that with far greater problems in the city the police would no doubt just ogle her pale golden beauty before sending her on her way. And that such a stunt would only draw the interest of the paparazzi, who followed him most days.

The very thought of her being spotted, identified and linked to him was enough to make him go cold inside. He’d had enough bad press and innuendo after what had happened in Italy to last him a lifetime.

An audacious idea was being formulated in his head. It wasn’t one he particularly relished, but it seemed like the only choice he had right now. It would get Serena DePiero out of Rio more or less immediately, and hopefully out of Brazil entirely within a couple of days.

‘You said earlier that you were looking for another chance? That you’d do anything?’

Serena went very still, those huge blue eyes narrowing on him. Irritation made Luca’s skin feel tight. The room was too small. All he could see was her. When she’d dropped her arms his eyes had tracked hungrily to her breasts, and he could still recall the jut of those hard nipples against her T-shirt. She was naked underneath.

Blood pooled at his groin, making him hard. Damn.

‘Do you want a chance or not?’ he growled, angry at his unwarranted response. Angry that she was still here.

Serena blinked. ‘Yes, of course I do.’

Her voice had become husky and it had a direct effect on Luca’s arousal. This was a mistake—he knew it. But he had no choice. Damage limitation.

Tersely, he said, ‘I run an ethical mining company. I’m due to visit the Iruwaya mines, and the tribe that lives near there, to check on progress. You can prove your commitment by coming with me, instead of the assistant I’d lined up, to take notes. The village is part of the global communities network, so it’s not entirely unrelated.’

‘Where is the village?’

‘Near Manaus.’

Serena’s eyes widened. ‘The city in the middle of the Amazon?’

Luca nodded. Perhaps this would be all it would take? Just the thought of doing something vaguely like hard work would have her scrambling back. Giving in. Leaving.

As if to mock his line of thought, Serena looked at him with those huge blue eyes and said determinedly, ‘Fine. When do we go?’

Her response surprised Luca—much as the fact that she’d chosen this rundown flea-pit of a hotel had surprised him. He’d expected her to check into one of Rio’s five-star resorts. But then he’d figured that perhaps her family had her on a tight leash where funds were concerned.

Whatever. He cursed himself again for wondering about her and said abruptly, ‘Tomorrow. My driver will pick you up at five a.m.’

Once again he expected her to balk, but she didn’t. He swept his gaze over the minor explosion of clothes from her suitcase and the toiletries spread across the narrow bed. The fact that her scent was clean and sweet, at odds with the sultry, sexy perfume he remembered from before, was not a welcome observation.

He looked back to her. ‘I’ll have an assistant stop by with supplies for the trip within the hour. You won’t be able to bring your case.’

That gaze narrowed again. Suspicious. ‘Supplies?’

Luca faced her squarely and said, with only the slightest twinge to his conscience, ‘Oh, didn’t I mention that we would be trekking through the jungle to get to the village? It takes two days from the farthest outskirts of Manaus.’

Those blue eyes flashed. ‘No,’ she responded. ‘You didn’t mention that we would be trekking through the jungle. Is it even safe?’

Luca smiled, enjoying the thought of Serena bailing after half an hour of walking through the earth’s largest insect and wildlife-infested hothouse. He figured that after her first brush with one of the Amazon’s countless insect or animal species she’d give up the act. But for now he’d go along with it. Because if he didn’t she’d be a loose cannon in Rio de Janeiro. A ticking publicity time bomb. At least this way she’d have to admit defeat and go of her own free will.

He made a mental note to have a helicopter standing by to extract her and take her to the airport.

‘It’s eminently safe, once you have a guide who knows what they’re doing and where they’re going.’

‘And that’s you?’ she said flatly.

‘Yes. I’ve been visiting this tribe for many years, and exploring the Amazon for a lot longer than that. You couldn’t be in safer hands.’

The look Serena shot him told him that she doubted that. His smile grew wider and he arched a brow. ‘By all means you can say no, Serena, it’s entirely up to you.’

She made a derisive sound. ‘And if I say no you’ll personally escort me to the airport, no doubt.’

She stopped and bit her lip for a moment, making Luca’s awareness of her spike.

‘But if I do this, and prove my commitment, will you let me take up the job I came for?’

Luca’s smile faded and he regarded her. Once again that tiny grudging admiration reared its head. He ruthlessly crushed it.

‘Well, as I’m almost certain you won’t last two hours in the jungle it’s a moot point. All this is doing is delaying your inevitable return home.’

Her chin lifted and her arms tightened over her chest. ‘It’ll take more than a trek and some dense vegetation to put me off, Fonseca.’

* * *

The early-morning air was sultry, and the dawn hadn’t yet broken, so it was dark when Serena got out of the back of the chauffeur-driven car at the private airfield almost twelve hours later. The first person she saw was the tall figure of Luca, carrying bags into a small plane. Instantly her nerves intensified.

He barely glanced at her as she walked over behind the driver, who carried the new backpack she’d been furnished with. And then his dark gaze fell on her and her heart sped up.

‘You checked out of the hotel?’

Good morning to you too, Serena said silently, and cursed her helpless physical reaction. ‘Yes. And my suitcase is in the car.’

Luca took her small backpack from the driver and exchanged a few words with him in rapid Portuguese. Then, as the driver walked away, Luca said, ‘Your things will be left at my headquarters until you get back.’

The obvious implication of you—not we—was not lost on Serena, and she said coolly, ‘I won’t be bailing early.’

Luca looked at her assessingly and Serena was conscious of the new clothes and shoes she’d been given. Lightweight trousers and a sleeveless vest under a khaki shirt. Sturdy trekking boots. Much like what Luca was wearing, except his looked well worn, faded with time. Doing little to hide his impressive muscles and physique.

She cursed. Why did he have to be the one man who seemed to connect with her in a way she’d never felt before?

Luca, who had turned back to the plane, said over his shoulder, ‘Come on, we have a flight slot to make.’

‘Aye-aye, sir,’ Serena muttered under her breath as she hurried after him and up the steps into the small plane. She was glad that she’d pulled her hair up into a knot on top of her head as she could already feel a light sweat breaking out on the back of her neck.

Luca told her to take a seat. He shut the heavy door and secured it.

As Serena was closing her seatbelt she saw him take his seat in the cockpit and gasped out loud, ‘You’re the pilot?’

‘Evidently,’ he said drily.

Serena’s throat dried. ‘Are you even qualified?’

He was busy flicking switches and turning knobs. He threw back over his shoulder, ‘Since I was eighteen. Relax, Serena.’

He put on a headset then, presumably to communicate with the control tower, and then they were taxiing down the runway. Serena wasn’t normally a nervous flyer, but her hands gripped the armrests as the full enormity of what was happening hit her. She was on a plane, headed into the world’s densest and most potentially dangerous ecosystem, with a man who hated her guts.

She had a vision of a snake, dropping out of a tree in front of her face, and shivered in the dry cabin air just as the small plane left the ground and soared into the dawn-filled sky. Unfortunately her spirits didn’t soar with it, but she comforted herself that at least she wasn’t arriving back in Athens with her tail between her legs...just yet.

Serena was very aware of Luca’s broad-shouldered physique at the front of the plane, but as much as she wanted to couldn’t quite drum up the antipathy she wanted to feel for him. After all, he had good reason to believe what he did about her—that she’d framed him.

Anyone else would have believed the same...except for her sister, who had just looked at her with that sad expression that had reminded Serena of how trapped they both were by their circumstances—and by Serena’s helpless descent into addiction to block out the pain.

Their father had simply been too powerful. And Siena had been too young for Serena to try anything drastic like running away. By the time Siena had come of age Serena had been in no shape to do anything drastic. Their father had seen to that effectively. And they’d been too well known. Any attempt to run would have been ended within hours, because their father would have sent his goons after them. They’d been bound as effectively as if their father had locked them in a tower.

Serena.’

Serena’s attention came back to the small plane and she looked forward, to see Luca staring back to her impatiently. He must have called her a couple of times. She felt raw from her memories.

‘What?’

‘I was letting you know that the flight will take four hours.’ He pointed to a bag on the floor near her and said, ‘You’ll find some information in there about the tribe and the mines. You should read up on them.’

He turned back to the front and Serena restrained herself from sticking her tongue out at him. She’d been bullied and controlled by one man for most of her life and she chafed at the thought of giving herself over to that treatment again.

As she dug for the documents she reiterated to herself that this was a means to an end. She’d chosen to come here with Luca, and she was going to get through it in one piece and prove herself to him if it was the last thing she did. She’d become adept in the past few years in focusing on the present, not looking back. And she’d need that skill now more than ever.

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