A Sunrise in Rio

By Rachel Matthews

A cold playboy in need of a fiancee.

A sweet photographer in need of a job.

A proposal that would last a lifetime.

Eric Jansen was aware of his reputation. As a stoic widower with a mysterious past, work was his only solace...until his investors threaten to end the deal. With a new luxury hotel and housing development for underprivileged families on the line in scenic Rio de Janeiro, the beautiful new photographer, Jayla Mitchelson, is perfect for the job. She may also be the perfect woman to claim his heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RavenFire Books
• Release date: Jul 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386504955

Rachel Matthews

Rachel Matthews is a wife, daughter, crocheter, artist & dreamer all rolled into one. She's dreamed of writing ever since she was little and now enjoys penning them for readers all around the world. Part mermaid and part stuffed animal wrangler, she currently lives in San Diego where she is fighting an addiction to the beach and enjoying spending time with her loving romantic hero husband.

Book preview

Chapter 1

YOU DIRTY, NO-GOOD–

Shh... Eric Jansen tapped a finger against his lips as he threw a look over his shoulder. The icy blonde in his doorway folded her arms and tapped her feet. Her pale skin reddened with simmering rage beneath the surface. Elsa Cambridge was used to things getting done at the drop of a dime. The times he caught her without a team of hair stylists, makeup artists, and yes-people were few to none. Their banishment from his building offered him rare moments of peace and quiet.

Eric refocused his attention on the phone call and gazed at the Manhattan skyline. The towering skyscrapers blocked the afternoon sun, but he found solace in the view. The serene sight was a welcome relief after a hectic day of meetings and calls.

Now, another issue demanded his immediate attention. He had hoped to delay this conversation until after the press junket and gala, but it seemed futile. Their relationship wasn’t working for either of them, and it was better to address it now rather than string her along.

Motioning towards the door, he placed his hand over the receiver. Please close it. I’ll be finished with this call soon.

Time was of the essence in his line of work, and he had little patience for unnecessary drama. He had deals to make and important meetings to attend.

Just two seconds, Elsa barged into his office, slamming the door behind her. She winced as if the door threatened her perfectly manicured nails. Flipping her shiny blond hair, she meticulously fluffed the curled ends. Even in the middle of the day, her makeup was flawless, enough to make Vogue editors do a double take. That was Elsa, always camera-ready. She cared more about her appearance than anything else. Eric remembered when he had asked her to go sailing, and she had panicked at the thought of windblown hair or seawater on her flawless skin.

Impatience exuded from her like her expensive Chanel No. 5 perfume. She had made it clear on every holiday that it was her favorite. But those days were over now. Eric stole a quick glance at his watch while listening to the investor on the other line.

Mm-hmm. Right. I’ll be leaving for Brazil tomorrow morning... Yes, we can meet the partners at my hotel. My assistant will provide you with the details... Okay, we’ll discuss more when I arrive.

Ending the call, he barely had a moment before Elsa stormed up to his desk. Well, at least you’re still courteous with someone.

Eric rounded the front of his desk and sat on the edge, keeping his expression neutral as he crossed his arms.

Elsa stood with her hands on her hips. What? Don’t you have anything to say to me?

Eric raised an eyebrow. Like what?

She scoffed and flipped her hair. Like why I had to find out you took Stacia Casey to the Hollywood Health Fundraiser this weekend. I thought we had something, Eric. We were even talking about ring shopping.

Eric held up his hand to emphasize his words. No, you brought up ring shopping, not me.

Right! I was hoping you’d get the hint. You should understand women, Eric! She paused, closing her eyes briefly. Look, you’re a playboy. Every woman from here to Tuscany knows it. But I thought there was something between us. Don’t you care about me at all?

He looked at her, hoping to feel a connection beyond empty dates and publicity appearances. But there was nothing. No fire. No spark. No interest. Eric realized that despite her insistence, she had no genuine romantic interest in him either. Unless she needed an anniversary gift or a handsome accessory to show off, he was as replaceable to her as the shiny clutch purses she matched with her outfits. Even now, while running errands, Elsa wore a red a stylish red dress complemented by a tasteful fur stole draped over one shoulder. Her wardrobe consisted of renowned names like Gucci, Versace, Ray-ban, and Manolo Blahnik. The same labels sought him and his dates for free publicity. While Eric himself couldn’t care less about such brands, the women he accompanied craved the attention they brought.

She scoffed, dismissing his question with a wave of her hand. What does love have to do with anything? Love is fleeting, just a concoction of pressure and deceit that eventually turns into boredom. A mischievous smile played on her lips as her blue eyes sparkled. We can offer each other so much more.

Eric struggled to conceal his disappointment behind a neutral expression. Like what?

Her scoff transformed into a self-assured laugh. Power, for starters. Can’t you see the kind of attention we command? I have a chance at a movie role, my own fashion line, a perfume, and a million-dollar wedding. And after that, I’ll make the rounds on a reality show for fabulous housewives. She waved her hand in the air with each word as if presenting a flashy marquee. Elsa Cambridge will become a household name.

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. This conversation had dragged on longer than he’d hoped, and the stack of papers on his desk remained untouched, much to his frustration. Elsa, you always appreciate a direct approach. So, here it is. We’ve had some good times together, but I’m not the one who can truly make you happy. You deserve someone else.

Elsa raised her hand and narrowed her gaze at him, her voice dripping with disbelief. Hold on... are you breaking up with me? Seriously? After all the effort I put into this relationship to establish us as a power couple? You’re... breaking up with me?

I’m sorry, Eric said, but I’m not looking for a serious commitment right now.

Elsa’s piercing blue eyes turned icy, her dark lashes casting shadows against her pale complexion. A delicate pout formed on her vivid red lips. Before Eric could utter another word, her slender hand swung through the air, delivering a resounding slap to his face. The sharp crack reverberated through his office.

That’s for making me believe you actually had a heart, she declared, adjusting the stole on her shoulder. With determined steps, she stormed toward the door, the sound of her heels echoing on the polished wooden floor. Pausing at the entrance, she pivoted to face him. A tense silence filled the room before she spoke. I guess it’s true what they say. No woman could ever thaw the ice-cold heart of Eric Jansen. I hope you get used to those cold and lonely nights because I’ll never forgive you for this. Lose my number.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Eric rubbing his stinging cheek. He let out a sigh and pushed away from his desk, standing up. It was for the best, he reasoned. Life was simpler when he focused on what he could handle – work.

Elsa, a woman of mesmerizing elegance, had enthralled the fashion world with her radiance on the runway. Renowned designers clamored to collaborate with her, elevating her to the status of a true celebrity. Eric had once hoped that Elsa would fill the void in his heart, but now he saw the fallacy of his desires. Her outer beauty and fame couldn’t compensate for the lack of depth in their connection.

As he reflected on their encounter, Eric couldn’t escape the weight of his own guilt. He had prolonged the relationship, deceiving himself into believing that it was what he needed. But deep down, he knew he was running away from a darker past, using relationships and work as distractions. The realization gnawed at him until he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Another beauty bites the dust, a familiar voice rang out from the doorway.

Eric glanced up, meeting David’s eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. The disbelief on his business partner’s face spoke volumes. You must keep a scorecard somewhere, he commented, shaking his head.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Eric’s lips. I didn’t even hear you come in.

David leaned against the doorframe, the corners of his lips turning up. Seems like you were lost in your heartbreak paperwork.

Eric’s fingers brushed against the stack of documents before him, finding solace in the crispness of the paper. It grounded him, a brief respite in the storm of emotions swirling within. You know me. On to the next.

David nodded knowingly. Yeah, I know you too well. But why let her in? You hate making scenes.

Eric gestured towards the door, settling into his chair. Leslie’s a kitten compared to Elsa on the warpath. Elsa likely bulldozed right past her desk.

David shot him a curious look. She seemed really into you.

The sea of papers on Eric’s desk beckoned, promising a momentary respite from the chaos of his personal life. But he couldn’t ignore his friend’s presence. Why did David fixate on his love life despite having his own? With a sigh, Eric admitted, Yeah, well, I didn’t want to string her along. It’s not fair to either of us.

A sly grin appeared on David’s lips. So... the ice queen is single now, huh?

Eric raised an eyebrow at him. Are you kidding me? She just stormed out of my office minutes ago, and you’re already trying to get a date with her?

David’s laughter filled the room as he raised his hands in feigned innocence. Hey man, I figured she might need some emotional support, you know? Maybe a shoulder to cry on or something.

Or something, Eric replied, amused and exasperated. You really need a stable woman in your life.

David shrugged casually, clicking his tongue playfully. Working on it, my friend. But you’re my filter, remember?

Eric’s gaze sharpened as a familiar unease settled within him. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, Dave. But your interest in my exes does worry me.

David scrunched up his face in an exaggerated scowl. Come on, don’t be like that. Besides, aren’t you the eternal bachelor? When are you going to settle down?

Eric’s hand froze mid-air, his pen hovering above the contract. David’s words struck a nerve, giving voice to the question that had haunted him for years. He shook his head, his grip tightening on the pen. Maybe never. But the media circus does contribute to our brand value. People Weekly Magazine reached out for a feature.

David’s lips curled into a wry smile as he crossed his arms. Ah, the endless ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ listings. Great for social media, but what about our investors?

Eric furrowed his brow, a sudden realization dawning on him. What about them?

David’s tone turned serious as he explained, Your personal life might give them the wrong impression of your professional stability.

Eric let his pen fall, the weight of his personal choices on his professional image sinking in. He had overlooked this aspect while chasing this crucial business deal. You have a point.

All right. Well, besides that, I also hate seeing you all alone out there. I can’t come over every night for beer thirty, you know. Especially once I get Elsa’s number. Gotta help her get over her loneliness.

Eric snorted and shook his head. Right.

David’s face softened, and his voice shifted to a gentler tone. It’s been years since she passed away. She would want you to move on.

A rush of memories flooded Eric’s mind, emotions swirling within him. His late wife, the arguments, and the blame they both carried. Their complicated relationship haunted him still, and there were secrets he hadn’t even shared with David. Moving on is easier said than done, Eric replied, his focus returning to the stack of papers in front of him. I’m still trying to make sense of it all.

David laughed, a touch of empathy in his voice. Relationships are puzzles, my friend. But your complicated history only makes you more intriguing to women.

A skeptical smile played on Eric’s lips. I thought it would keep them away.

David’s laughter filled the room. Are you kidding? It’s like a challenge to women. They see you as the ice prince waiting to thaw. Your desirability just skyrocketed now that you’re single.

Eric’s grip tightened on the pen as he exhaled heavily. David’s words struck a chord. Maybe he had been approaching this all wrong. He tossed the pen aside and leaned back, considering his options.

You know, Eric began, his voice pensive. If dating around attracts attention, maybe I should do the opposite.

David leaned in, intrigued. What do you have in mind, Casanova?

Eric hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing. I’ll get engaged. Or maybe even married, but only for show. I’ll choose someone who doesn’t crave the spotlight, so we won’t attract too much attention. It’ll keep me focused on my work and make me unavailable.

David nodded, mulling it over. It could work, but the media will want to know more about her.

True, Eric agreed. I’ll figure out a way to protect her identity.

A grin spread across David’s face. I’m on board with this plan. I can’t wait to see who you’ll pick.

Eric sighed, his shoulders slumping. Finding a suitable prospect seems impossible at the moment.

David chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Come on, you must have someone in mind.

Not if I want to keep the media out of it, Eric replied, frustration evident in his voice.

David pondered for a moment before a realization struck him. Oh, I almost forgot. Whitman is hesitating on the resort investment.

Eric’s hand froze, pen hovering above the papers. What? He was on board last time we spoke.

He’s been courted by Freddy Martin to invest in their property in Italy, David revealed.

Eric’s frustration boiled over at the mention of Freddy Martin. Ever-Ready’ Freddy was the last person he ever thought would try to cut in on the deal. Slamming the pen down, he vented his anger. Martin just got engaged, right?

David confirmed with a nod. That’s correct. He proposed to his girlfriend of six months in Paris.

Eric groaned. How cliché. We need to meet with Whitman and his partners as soon as possible.

Don’t worry, we’re already arranging a meeting in Rio. We can go whenever you’re ready, David assured him.

Eric’s determination flared. Good. I have all the paperwork ready. We’ll use our existing trust to secure the deal. This resort will fund the low-income housing project. I won’t let those families down.

Have you booked a photographer yet? David asked, arching an eyebrow.

No, Eric replied, leaning back in his chair. Gerry mentioned that Donna knows a photographer, a guy named Jay Mitchelson. Apparently, he’s known for his exceptional pictures and quick turnaround. We’ll meet him in Brazil.

David nodded. Sounds good. Do you know anything about this guy?

Eric shook his head. Not much. But Gerry seems confident in his abilities. We’ll have to trust Donna’s judgment.

Alright then, David said, heading toward the door. I’ll make sure everything is set up on my end so we’re ready to go when the time comes.

Thanks, David. I want those meetings secured and completed before Mitchelson takes those pictures. I can finally get some rest during the trip.

David chuckled. You resting? That’ll be the day.

Get out of here, Eric laughed, waving his friend off.

As the door closed behind David, Eric let out a sigh and reclined in his chair. He took a moment to unwind, his gaze drifting out the window. A fake engagement or a marriage of convenience. Perfect. Once the deal was finished, they could stage a quick break up and go their separate ways. No harm, no foul. He swung his chair around to face the window. The bustling traffic below had an oddly soothing effect, and the Manhattan skyline, a breathtaking painting against the blue sky, made him feel invincible. Sitting high above the city’s hustle and bustle, he was ready to conquer the world. But there was a lot of work ahead in the coming days.

First and foremost, he needed to find the perfect woman for the job.

Chapter 2

THE SHRILL ALARM PULLED Jayla from her sleep, awakening her from her dream of a serene beach at sunset. Disoriented, she squinted at her alarm clock, its numbers illuminating the ungodly hour of five in the morning. Panic surged through her veins as she realized she had stayed up too late packing. Just one more hour had turned into a three-hour delay.

With a forceful slap on the alarm clock, Jayla silenced the alarm and sprang out of bed. She had a flight to catch, and the tightened airport security meant she needed to be at the gate by nine. The morning raced by as she hurriedly showered, got ready, and double-checked her packed items.

Once outside, a taxi awaited her, providing a much-needed respite. As she sat in the backseat, she mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. A steaming cup of coffee would do wonders for her focus. Finding an airport coffee shop took priority. For now, she took a moment to bid a silent farewell to her beloved San Diego before embarking on her journey to Rio.

Donna greeted her at the gate, a smile lighting up her face. She handed Jayla an extra cup of coffee, a gesture of kindness and a wake-up call. Thought you could use this, Donna said with a grin.

You’re a lifesaver, Jayla replied, taking the cup and cautiously sipping the hot beverage.

We may not be early birds, but we’ll make up for it. We have a private charter waiting for us, so you can rest on the plane, Donna informed her.

Confusion clouded Jayla’s face. Wait, we’re not taking a commercial flight?

Donna chuckled. Darling, time is of the essence, and we need some privacy. Plus, I’m particular about my champagne.

Jayla still felt the remnants of grogginess from her disrupted sleep. Donna, on the other hand, always exuded a readiness, as if she were perpetually prepared for any situation.

Even in a bustling crowd of travelers, Jayla could spot Donna from a distance. Donna bore an uncanny resemblance to the iconic model Beverly Johnson, with a touch of blonde highlights in her hair. That morning, she wore an exquisite cream-colored blazer suit that accentuated her curves. A matching scarf adorned her head and draped elegantly over her shoulder. Donna exuded classic Hollywood glamour. Her flawless brown skin radiated a subtle golden glow that harmonized with her silky hair. With her ageless face and sculpted bone structure, she seemed perpetually ready for a photo shoot. Even at this early hour, Donna’s enthusiasm was contagious, as if it were already