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

* * *

Luca was feeling more and more disorientated as he pulled on fresh clothes with rough hands. Deus. He’d almost backed Serena into the tree just now and covered her open mouth with his, jealous of the rainwater trickling between those plump lips.

And what about those scars on her hands? The silvery marks criss-crossing the delicate pale skin? He hadn’t been prepared for the surge of panic when he’d seen them—afraid she’d been marked by something on the trail—or the feeling of rage when she’d told him so flatly who had done it.

He’d met her father once or twice at social events and had never liked the man. He had cold, dead dark eyes, and the superior air of someone used to having everything he wanted.

He didn’t like to admit it, but the knowledge that he’d been violent didn’t surprise Luca. He could picture the man being vindictive. Malevolent. But to his own daughters? The blonde, blue-eyed heiresses everyone had envied?

Luca knew Serena was changing behind him. He could hear the soft sounds of clothes being taken off and dropped. And then there was silence for a long moment. Telling himself it was concern, but knowing that it stemmed from a much deeper desire, Luca turned around.

Her back was to him and her legs were revealed in all their long shapely glory as she stripped off her trousers. High-cut pants showed off a toned length of thigh. Firm but curvy buttocks. When she stripped down to her bra he wanted to go over and undo it, slip his hands around her front to cup the generous swells and feel her arch into him.

He was rewarded with a burgeoning erection within seconds—no better than a pre-teen ogling a woman dressing in a changing room.

The snap of her belt around her hips broke Luca out of his trance and, angry with himself, he turned away and pulled on his own trousers. The light was falling rapidly now, and Luca had been so fixated on Serena that he was risking not having the camp set up in time.

But when he turned around again, about to issue a curt command, the words died on his lips. To his surprise Serena was already unrolling the tent and staking it out, her long ponytail swinging over her shoulder.

He cursed her silently, because he was losing his footing with this woman—fast.

* * *

Serena was sitting on a log on the opposite side of the fire to Luca a short time later, after they’d eaten their meagre meal. The tent stood close by, and she couldn’t stop a surge of ridiculous pride that she’d put it up herself. He’d expected her to flee back to civilisation at the slightest hint of work or danger, but here she was, day two and surviving—if not thriving. The feeling was heady, and it made her relish her newfound independence even more.

However, none of that could block out the mortification when she thought of earlier and how close she’d come to betraying her desire for him...

She caught Luca’s eye across the flickering light of the fire and he asked, ‘What’s the tattoo on your back?’

She went still. He must have seen the small tattoo that sat just above her left shoulderblade earlier, when she’d been changing. The thought of him looking at her made her feel hot.

The tattoo was so personal to her, she didn’t want to tell him. Reluctantly, she finally said, ‘It’s a swallow. The bird.’

‘Any significance?’

Serena almost laughed. As if she’d divulge that to him! He’d definitely fall off his log laughing.

She shrugged. ‘It’s my favourite bird. I got it done a few years ago.’ The day she’d walked out of the rehab clinic, to be precise.

She avoided Luca’s gaze. Swallows represented resurrection and rebirth... Luca would hardly look that deeply into its significance, but still... She had the uncanny sense that he might and she didn’t like it.

She really wanted to avoid any more probing into her life or her head. She stood up abruptly, making Luca look up, his dark gaze narrowing on her. ‘I’m going to turn in now.’ She sounded too husky. Even now her body trembled with awareness, just from looking at his large rangy form relaxed.

Luca stirred the fire, oblivious to her heated imaginings. ‘I’ll let you get settled.’

Serena turned away and crawled into the tent, pulling off her boots, but leaving her clothes on. Then she felt silly. Luca hadn’t given her the slightest hint that he felt any desire for her whatsoever, and she longed to feel cooler. She took off her shirt and stripped down to her panties, and pulled the sleeping bag around her.

She prayed that sleep would come as it had last night, like a dark blanket of oblivion, so she wouldn’t have to hear Luca come in and deal with the reality that he slept just inches away from her and probably resented every moment.

* * *

Luca willed his body to cool down. He didn’t like how off-centre Serena was pushing him. Making him desire her; wonder about her. Wanting to know more. She was surprising him.

He’d been exposed to the inherent selfishness of his mother and women in general from a very early age, so it was not a welcome sensation thinking that he might have misjudged her.

Lovers provided him with physical relief and an escort when he needed it. But his life was not about women, or settling down. He had too much to do to undo all the harm his father and grandfather had caused. He had set himself a mammoth task when his father had died ten years ago: to reverse the negative impact of the name Fonseca in Brazil, which up till then had been synonymous with corruption, greed and destruction.

The allegations of his drug-taking had come at the worst possible time for Luca—just when people had been beginning to sit up and trust that perhaps he was different and genuine about making a change. It was only now that he was back in that place.

And the person who could reverse all his good work was only feet away from him. He had to remember that. Remember who she was and what she had the power to do to him. Even if she was innocent, any association with her would incite all that speculation again.

Only when Luca felt sure that Serena must be asleep did he turn in himself, doing his best to ignore the curled-up shape inside the sleeping bag that was far too close to his for comfort. He’d really not expected to have to share this tent with anyone, and certainly not with Serena DePiero for a second night in a row.

But as he lay down beside her he had to acknowledge uncomfortably that there was no evidence of the spoilt ex-wild-child. There wasn’t one other woman he could think of, apart from those whose life’s work it was to study the Amazon, who would have fared better than her over the past couple of days. And even some of those would have run screaming long before now, back to the safety of a research lab, or similar.

He thought of her putting up the tent, her tongue caught between her teeth as she exerted herself, sweat dripping down her neck and disappearing into the tantalising vee of her shirt. Gritting his jaw tightly, Luca sighed and closed his eyes. He’d accused her of not lasting in the jungle, but it was he who craved the order of civilisation again—anything to dilute this fire in his blood and put an end to the questions Serena kept throwing up.

* * *

A couple of hours later Luca woke, instantly alert and tensed, waiting to hear a sound outside. But it came from inside the tent. Serena. Moaning in her sleep in Italian.

‘Papa...no, per favore, non che... Siena, aiutami.’

Luca translated the last word: help me. There was something gutturally raw about her words, and they were full of pain and emotion. Her voice cracked then, and Luca’s chest squeezed when he heard her crying.

Acting on instinct, Luca reached over and touched her shoulder.

Almost instantly she woke up and turned her head. ‘Ché cosa?’

Something about the fact that she was still speaking Italian made his chest tighten more. ‘You were dreaming.’ He felt as if he’d invaded her privacy.

Serena went as tense as a board. He could see the bright glitter of those blue eyes in the gloom.

‘Sorry for waking you.’

Her voice was thick, her accent stronger. He felt her pull abruptly away from his hand as she curled up again. Her hair was a bright sliver of white-gold and his body grew hot as he thought of it trailing over his naked chest as she sat astride him and took him deep into her body.

Anger at the wanton direction of his thoughts, at how easily she got under his skin and how she’d pulled away just now, almost as if he’d done something wrong, made him say curtly, ‘Serena?’

She said nothing, and that wound him up more. A moment ago he’d been feeling sorry for her, disturbed by the gut-wrenching sound of those sobs. But now memories of his mother and how she’d use her emotions to manipulate the people around her made Luca curse himself for being so weak.

It made his voice harsh. ‘What the hell was that about?’

Her voice sounded muffled. ‘I said I was sorry for waking you. It was nothing.’

‘It didn’t sound like nothing to me.’

Serena turned then, those eyes flashing, her hair bright against the dark backdrop of the tent. She said tautly, ‘It was a dream, okay? Just a bad dream and I’ve already forgotten it. Can we go to sleep now, please?’

Luca reacted viscerally to the fact that Serena was all but spitting at him, clearly in no need of comfort whatsoever. She pressed his buttons like no one else, and all he could think about right then was how much he wanted her to submit to him—anything to drown out all the contradictions she was putting in his head.

He reached out and found her arms, pulled her into him, hearing her shocked little gasp.

‘Luca, what are you doing?’

But the defensive tartness was gone out of her voice.

He pulled her in closer, the darkness wrapping around them but failing to hide that bright blue gaze or the gold of her hair. The slant of her stunning cheekbones.

She wasn’t pulling away.

Luca’s body was on fire. From somewhere he found his voice and it sounded coarse, rough. ‘What am I doing?’

‘This...’

And then he pulled her right into him and his mouth found hers with unerring precision. Her breasts swelled against his chest—in outrage? He didn’t know, because he was falling over the very thin edge of his control.

When he felt her resistance give way after an infinitesimal moment, triumph surged through his body. He couldn’t think any more, because he was swept up in the decadent darkness of a kiss that intoxicated him and reminded him of only one other similar moment...with her...seven years before.

CHAPTER FIVE

SERENA WAS STILL in shock at finding herself in Luca’s arms with his mouth on hers. When he’d woken her at first, she’d had an almost overwhelming instinctive need to burrow close to him, the tentacles of that horrible nightmare clinging like slimy vines to her hot skin.

And then she’d realised just who she was with—just who was precipitating such weak feelings of wanting to seek strength and comfort. Luca Fonseca, of all people? And that dream... She hadn’t had it for a long time—not since she’d been in rehab. And to be having it again, here, was galling. As if she was going backwards. Not forwards. And it was all his fault, for getting under her skin.

Fresh anger made her struggle futilely against Luca’s superior strength even after she’d let the hot tide of desire take her over, revealing how much she wanted him. She pulled back, ripping her mouth from his, mortified to find herself breathing harshly, her breasts moving rapidly against the steel wall of his chest, nipples tight and stinging.

Her body and her mind seemed to be inhabiting two different people. Her body was saying Please don’t stop and her head was screaming Stop now!

‘What is it, minha beleza?’

The gravelly tone of Luca’s voice rubbed along her nerve-endings, setting them alight. Traitors.

‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’

Dammit. She sounded as if she wanted him to convince her that it was, her voice all breathy.

His eyes were like black pits in his face and Serena was glad she couldn’t make out their expression. She half expected Luca to come to his senses and recoil, but instead he seemed to move even closer. His hands slipped down her arms and came around her back, making her feel quivery at how light his touch was—and yet it burned.

‘Luca...?’

‘Hmm...?’

His mouth came close again and his lips feathered a kiss to her neck. Liquid fire spread through Serena’s pelvis. Damn him.

She swallowed, her body taking over her mind, making her move treacherously closer to that huge hard body.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea. We’ll regret it.’

Luca pulled back for a moment and said throatily, ‘You think too much.’

And then he was covering her mouth with his again, and any last sliver of defence or righteous anger at how vulnerable he made her feel drained away. She was drowning in his strength. Mouth clinging to his, skin tightening all over as he coaxed her lips apart to explore deeper with his tongue. His kiss seven years ago had seared itself onto her memory like a brand. This was like being woken from a deep sleep. She’d never really enjoyed kissing or being touched by men...until him. And now this.

Barely aware of the fact that Luca was pulling down the zips of their sleeping bags, she only knew that there was nothing between them now, and that he was pulling her on top of him so her breasts were crushed against his broad chest.

Both hands were on her head, fingers thrust deep into her hair, and Luca positioned her so that he could plunder her mouth with devastating skill. Serena could feel herself getting damp between her legs.

Luca drew back for a moment and Serena opened her eyes, breathing heavily. With a smooth move he manoeuvred them so that Serena was on her back and loomed over her. He looked wild, feral. Exactly the way she imagined the marauding Portuguese conquistadores must have looked when they’d first walked on this land.

He smoothed some hair behind her ear and Serena’s breath grew choppier. Her fingers itched to touch him, to feel that chest, so when his head lowered to hers again her hands went to the buttons of his shirt and undid them, sliding in to feel the dense musculature of his chest.

She was unable to hold back a deep sound of satisfaction as her hands explored, revelling in his strength. She dragged her fingers over his chest, sliding over the ridges of his muscles, a nail grazing a flat hard nipple. Her mouth watered. She wanted to taste it.

His beard tickled her slightly, but that was soon forgotten as his tongue thrust deep, making her arch up against him. He was pulling down the strap of her vest, taking with it her bra strap, exposing the slope of her breast.

When Luca pulled back again she was gasping for breath. She looked up, but everything was blurry for a moment. She could feel Luca’s fingers reach inside the lace cup of her bra, brushing enticingly close to where her nipple was so hard it ached. He pulled it down and Serena felt her breast pop free of the confinement. Luca’s gaze was so hot she could feel it on her bare skin.

He breathed out. ‘Perfeito...’

His head came down, and with exquisite finesse he flicked his tongue against that tip, making Serena’s breath catch and her hips move of their own volition. He flicked it again, and then slowly expored the hard flesh, before placing his whole mouth around it and suckling roughly.

Serena cried out. Her hands were on his head, in his hair. She’d never felt anything like this in her life. Sex had been something to block out, to endure, an ineffective form of escape...not something to revel in like this.

His hand was on her trousers now, undoing her button, lowering the zip. There was no hesitation. She wanted this with an all-consuming need she’d never experienced before. His hand delved under her panties as his mouth still tortured her breast.

When his fingers found the evidence of her desire he tore his mouth away. She could see his eyes glitter almost feverishly as he stroked her intimately, releasing her damp heat. Serena whimpered softly, almost mindless, her hips jerking with reaction.

‘You want me.’

His words sliced through the fever in her brain.

Serena bit her lip. She was afraid to speak, afraid of what might spill out. Luca was a master torturer. With his hand he forced her legs apart as much as they could go, and then he thrust a finger deep inside, where she was slick and hot. She gasped.

‘Say it, Serena.’

He sounded fierce now, his finger moving intimately against her. Oh, God... She was going to come. Like this. In a tent in the middle of nowhere. Just from this man touching her...

Feeling vulnerable far too late, Serena tried to bring her legs together—but Luca wouldn’t let her. She could see the determination on his face. The lines stark with desire and hunger. One finger became two, stretching her, filling her. She gasped, her hands going to his shoulders.

The heel of his hand put exquisite pressure on her clitoris. She was unable to stop her hips from moving, rolling, seeking to assuage the incredible ache that was building. And then his fingers moved faster, deeper, making Serena’s muscles tighten against him.

‘Admit you want me...dammit. You’re almost coming. Say it.’

Serena was wild now, hands clutching at him. He was looking down at her. She knew what was stopping the words being wrenched from her: the fact that Luca seemed so intent on pushing her over the edge when he appeared to be remarkably in control. The fact that she suspected he just wanted to prove his domination over her.

But she couldn’t fight it. She needed it—him—too badly.

‘I do...’ she gasped out, the words torn from her as her body reached its crescendo against the relentless rhythm of Luca’s wicked hand and fingers. ‘I do...want you...damn you.’

And with those last guttural words she went as taut as a bowstring as the most indescribably pleasurable explosion racked her entire body and broke it apart into a million pieces before letting it float back together again.

Serena had orgasmed before. But never like this. With such intensity...losing herself in the process.

* * *

Luca’s brain had melted into a pool of lust and heat. Serena’s body was still clamping around his fingers and he ached to be embedded within her, so that the inferno in his body might be assuaged.

But something held him back—had held him back from replacing his hand with his erection. At some point he’d become aware that he needed this woman on a level that surpassed anything he’d ever known before.

And, worse, he needed to know that she felt it too. So making her admit it, making her come, had become some kind of battle of wills. She’d confounded him since she’d turned up in his office, just days ago, and this felt like the first time he’d been able to claw back some control. By making her lose hers.

But now, as he extricated his hand and her body jerked in reaction, it felt like an empty triumph. Luca pulled back and gritted his jaw at the way his body rejected letting Serena go. He pulled on his shirt, feeling wild. Undone.

Serena was moving, pulling her clothes together. He saw her hands shaking and wanted to snarl. Where was the insouciant, confident woman he remembered meeting that night in Florence? She bore no resemblance to this woman, who was almost impossibly shy.

Luca lay back, willing down the throbbing heat in his blood. Cursing the moment he’d ever laid eyes on Serena DePiero. She went still beside him, and even that set his nerves on edge. Sizzling.

Eventually she said hesitantly, ‘You didn’t...’

She trailed off. But he knew what she’d meant to say, and suddenly her unbelievable hesitance pushed him over another edge. He’d cursed this woman for a long time for sending his life into turmoil, and yet again she was throwing up another facet of her suddenly chameleon-like personality. The most in control he’d felt around her since she’d come back into his life had been just now—when she’d been surrendering to him even though she’d obviously hated it.

He would have her—completely. In his bed. On his terms. Would reveal this hesitant shyness to be the sham that it was.

And then, when he’d had her, sated himself, he would be able to walk away and leave her behind for good. One thing was certain: he’d wanted her since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and not even his antipathy for her had put a dent in that need. If he didn’t have her he’d be haunted for ever. And no woman, however alluring, retained any hold over him once he’d had her.

He came up on one elbow and looked down, saw her eyes flash blue as she looked at him. Her mouth was swollen.

Luca forced down the animalistic urge to take her there and then. He was civilised. He’d spent years convincing people that he wasn’t his lush of a mother or his corrupt father.

‘No, I didn’t.’

He saw her frown slightly. ‘Why didn’t you...?’

He finished for her, ‘Make love to you?’

Serena nodded her head, pulling the sleeping bag back up over her body. Luca resisted the urge to yank it back down. Control.

His jaw was hard. ‘I didn’t make love to you, Serena, because I have no protection with me. And when we do make love it will be in more comfortable surroundings.’

He sensed her tensing.

‘Don’t be so sure I want to make love to you, Luca.’

He smiled and felt ruthless. ‘Minha beleza, don’t even try to pretend that you would have objected to making love here and now. I felt your body’s response and it didn’t lie. Even if you don’t like it.’

She opened her mouth and he reached out and put a finger to her lips, stopping her words.

‘Don’t even waste your breath. After that little performance you’re mine as surely as if I’d stamped a brand on your body.’

She smacked his hand away, hard enough to sting. ‘Go to hell, Luca.’

Luca curbed the desire to show Serena in a more subtle way that what he said was true, but it was true that he didn’t have protection, and he knew that if he touched her again he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

So he lay down and closed his eyes, just saying darkly, ‘Not before I take you with me, princesa.’

The fact that he could sense Serena fuming beside him only made him more determined to shatter her control again.

She would be his.

* * *

The following day Serena was galvanised on her walk—largely by the depth of her humiliation and her hatred for Luca. She glared at his back as he strode ahead of her and mentally envisaged a jaguar springing from the jungle to swallow him whole.

She couldn’t get the lurid images out of her head—the way she’d so completely and without hesitation capitulated to Luca’s lovemaking. The way he’d played her body like a virtuoso played a violin. The way he’d controlled her reactions while maintaining his own control.

His words mocked her: ‘After that little performance you’re mine.’ She felt like screaming. Unfortunately it had been no performance—which was galling, considering that for most of her life she’d perfected the performance of a spoilt, reckless heiress.

But on a deeper level what had happened last night with Luca terrified her.

For as long as she could remember there had been a layer between her and the world around her and she was still getting used to that layer being gone. She’d first tasted freedom when her father had disappeared and they’d been left with nothing. It had been too much to deal with, sending her spiralling into a hedonistic frenzy, saved only by her sister taking her to England and to rehab.