Never having found it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.
And never having found it didn’t mean she didn’t yearn for it.
Maybe it would never come her way, but that didn’t stop her hoping because what sort of life was it without hope?
What sort of life was it without love?
And suddenly she understood the acres of dark emptiness that she’d seen in his eyes. Rafael Cordeiro was a man living a life without love.
Why?
Why had he made that choice? And why did she even care?
CHAPTER FOUR
THEY walked without speaking, but were spared an awkward silence by the chorus of birds and frogs chirping and monkeys chattering, the now familiar rainforest sounds that provided a constant accompaniment to their physical efforts.
Occasionally Rafael glanced over his shoulder and looked at her but his gaze didn’t linger and she wasn’t even sure why he was checking on her because she had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t have minded if she’d fallen head first into the river that now bubbled cheerfully alongside the path.
Clearly he was wishing himself alone in his rainforest hideaway.
She’d made the mistake of trying to reach out and touch his deep, dark secrets and, like an injured predator, he’d given her a warning.
Keep your distance.
Don’t come too close.
So keep her distance she would and she wouldn’t go too close.
They’d visit the fazenda as planned, walk back to his lodge and then he’d give her his answer about her business. And whatever that answer was, she’d leave.
And Rafael Cordeiro with his dark secrets and his cynical view of love and life would be part of her past.
Which was a good thing, she told herself as she balanced on a log and avoided a deep, muddy pool of water, because she wasn’t ever going to be the sort of woman who indulged in emotionless sex and if they pursued this physical connection then that was what she’d be offered.
And emotionless sex meant giving up on a dream of something more.
And she wasn’t ready to stop dreaming.
She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t even realise that he’d stopped until she walked straight into him.
‘Sorry.’ Moving away from his steadying hand, she stepped back and stared into the trees. ‘Why have we stopped?’
‘This is the beginning of the fazenda.’
They were the first words he’d spoken since his response to her ill-timed question and there was no warmth. No emotion at all. Just a statement of fact. Like a tour guide, trained to impart the required information.
She glanced around herself in surprise, seeing dense jungle either side of the path. ‘We’re still in the rainforest.’
‘The coffee is grown in the forest. The owners maintain the land around them. They run their business in perfect harmony with nature. Ecologically sound.’ His mouth tightened. ‘And you care about things like that, don’t you, Grace?’
So they were back to that, then.
The hard glances and the sarcastic comments loaded with a meaning that she had yet to interpret. Gone was the heat and the passion that they’d shared in the pulsing heat of a rain-soaked forest. Gone was the intimacy, however shallow.
And she made no reference to it. Why would she, when she knew that what they’d shared had been fleeting and ephemeral? A transient lighting of the senses which had been quickly quenched by words, both his and hers. Something less than honest because neither knew the other, so how could anything built on such superficial grounds ever be deeply felt?
Moving away from such dangerous and unsettling thoughts, she played his game. ‘Yes, I do care.’ She refused to let his tone unsettle her. ‘And I know the history of the fazenda. The reason we’re prepared to pay the price we pay for the coffee is because it’s grown in an environmentally-friendly way. If we’d used cheaper coffee then you might be seeing a return on your investment now.’ And perhaps he wouldn’t be so angry. It all seemed to be about money for him. Money seemed to be the only thing that mattered. And she suddenly found herself wondering about his wife, although this time she did her wondering quietly, with her mouth firmly shut.