EXCERPT FROM "That Sexy Brazilian Lady"

Rafaela walked up to me and put her arms around me. Rafaela was a beautiful woman who'd worked with us. She'd been hired through the hotel to translate directly to vendors and schedule buses and cabs. She was the one who prevented the misunderstandings that our poor attempts at the local language created.

"I didn't want this to end," she whispered, putting her head on my shoulder.

"Nor did I," I replied.

She squeezed me tightly and gave me a hard, quick kiss on the lips. Then she turned away.

God! I wish she wouldn't do that! All through the conference, she'd kissed me and hugged me. Crazy Brazilian straight lady! Don't do that to me! That wasn't good for me. I was really attracted to her. I had been since I first met her three months ago.

She had a sensuously lithe body and mocha, chiseled features. Her mane of thick black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She had an aura around her that was hard to miss.

On her application she'd checked off married and once she'd mentioned something about Carlos, but didn't explain who Carlos was. On top of that, this was my work environment. I was here on business.

I was almost glad this would be over in two days.

* * * *

When I'd been here, three months ago, to examine spaces, she'd been the one to show me around the park we'd be using for the opening party. It was a new park in the center of the city that boasted an amphitheater large enough to hold the thousand or so attendees who'd be there to talk about the rainforest and make recommendations about saving the environment. Even then, at the first meeting, she'd been warm and friendly, touching my shoulder and taking my arm to point out certain details around us.

We'd taken a boat ride up the Amazon to see sites that might be used in our off-site excursions: places where the tropics were being destroyed to make way for big industrial complexes, and tracts of land where the rainforest was being protected from destruction. Throughout the three days I'd been there, she was beside me explaining everything. She had hugged me whenever I thought something was exciting or that could be incorporated into the conference.

She was so damned touchy-feely, that I had almost fired her. But that would have been unprofessional of me. She had the knowledge and the ability that we needed. My own personal discomforts had to be overlooked.

That first weekend, at the airport, she placed a soft kiss on my lips as we said goodbye. It could have meant many things. I was used to the European kisses on both cheeks. But this wasn't Europe. It had been enough, though, to flame my fantasies on the eight hour flight home.