Kitabı oku: «Modern Romance January Books 5-8», sayfa 4

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU’VE LIED YOUR head off your whole life?’ Rafe didn’t believe her. But he was drawn in by the shadows flickering in her eyes. ‘Why so many lies?’

‘For protection, as you suggested. But it still does damage and I refuse to lie any more.’ She squared her shoulders and smiled. But it wasn’t the bubbly smile he’d seen earlier when she’d been amongst the roses and he wondered if she was actually serious.

‘I’m like you,’ she said. ‘Upfront about what I want out of my life. What I will accept, and what I won’t.’

‘What makes you think I’m upfront about what I want from my life?’ How did she think she knew anything about him?

‘You’re decisive and take action to get what you want. The fact that I’m sitting in your car right now is a perfect example of your determination.’

Good point. He was used to getting his way, though honestly he’d not been certain she’d agree to attend the party with him. Even now he wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped away once they arrived at the palazzo. He’d have to keep her occupied.

‘But if this is the “new you”, then you’re getting what you want as well,’ he teased.

He’d been absurdly satisfied when she’d said yes, but it had been his first victory of a less than stellar day and he’d take it.

‘Once I’d had the time to process your...invitation, I realised it could be an interesting experience.’ She nodded primly, but the effect was ruined when an effervescent smile lit up her face. ‘Not one I’m likely to repeat.’

True, though why the fact should give him a twinge, he didn’t know. He’d been feeling off all day. He’d deliberately not visited the Villa Rosetta until the refurbishment was complete, but while he could appreciate its beauty and value, there’d not been the pleasure of getting what he’d wanted for so long.

Fool. What had he expected? The decades-old promise that the villa represented had never been fulfilled and never could be. His father, Roland, was long since dead. And that finality left an unusual melancholy just beneath his skin.

So not Rafe. He never wasted time looking backwards, he pushed forward, making headway against the resistance he was accustomed to. He pushed harder than anyone because he’d always had to. Illegitimate, unwanted heir that he was. Securing the villa should have been a pinnacle moment but it was larger than he’d realised. Its vastness screamed out for more people to be living in it. For the family he’d never had.

Fool. He wasn’t eight years old and full of fairy-tale dreams for a loving family now.

The woman wandering about the grounds had been a welcome distraction. He’d watched from the villa, initially outraged at her blithe trespassing. But he’d grown increasingly intrigued as she’d strolled through the roses with that smile lighting up her face.

‘The fireworks are supposed to be spectacular,’ she said as she waited for him to start the car. ‘You’re promising me all the fireworks, right?’

He glanced at her profile—had she really meant that as innocently as it had sounded? She turned to look at him fully, her expression limpid. The longer he looked at her, the deeper the colour ran in her cheeks. He was fascinated by the hint of vulnerability in her reaction.

‘What?’ she suddenly snapped. ‘Do I have something on my nose?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

‘What? No!’ That colour in her cheeks ran crimson now. ‘Hurry up and drive. I want to see the fireworks. I’ve been looking forward to them all day.’

Warmth flowed through his veins. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you were flirting with me.’

Her mouth opened, then closed, then her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re shocking, you know that?’ She stared straight ahead as if to ignore him. But then suddenly turned to snap at him again. ‘Does everyone flirt with you?’

‘Mostly.’ Still grinning, he finally started the engine, enjoying the crazy whim that had led him to take a total stranger to the most exclusive party on the European continent.

Her eyes had hit him the second he’d been able to see again after wiping all that water from his own. Large and framed with long lashes, they were caramel-coloured and captivated him completely. When he added her flawless, lightly tanned skin, providing a perfect backdrop for those wide eyes and lovely curving lips, it made for pretty. Her long hair was tied back in a bun but had hints of blonde and brown in the loose tendrils that curled about her sweetheart-shaped face...

Yes, it all added up to his new definition of gorgeous. She was on the shorter side, with curves in the places he appreciated most. That worn denim skirt had stopped just at her knees and shown smooth-looking legs, while her blouse had been floral. He’d liked the way the buttons had strained to contain her breasts. He’d imagined popping them open one by one. But in the end it had been the melted caramel colour of her eyes—all sweet warmth—that he’d kept returning to. There was a lightness in them that he found unusual, enchanting, sweet.

Rafe did not do sweet. Rafe did sophisticated. It was safer to play with women who knew the rules of the one-night-only game. But fresh, half-wet, funny Grace intrigued him. Temptation had been irresistible and reckless.

So now here she was alongside him, wearing a killer dress that emphasised every one of those bountiful curves. He wanted to kiss down that deep scooped neckline and feel her lean closer for more. His muscles tensed.

Well, he had been celibate for six weeks—virtually a marathon for him and the longest stretch in his adult life. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on the winding road. Grace was not a one-night-stand prospect. She wasn’t the type. When she’d said this was the most adventurous night of her life so far, she’d meant it.

A small army of models was arriving at the villa tomorrow. There’d be more than one to frolic with afterwards if he still wanted to. Frankly, though, the speculation didn’t excite him.

He glanced at Grace again and wished he had that hose once more. If that dress were wet, it’d turn translucent and he’d know for certain that she wore nothing beneath it. He suspected so, he could almost see the outline of her nipples. He shifted in his seat and touched his foot harder on the accelerator, irritated with his sudden descent into basic thinking. Was he suddenly some hormonal teen? The sooner they got to the party, the sooner he could get a grip on himself.

Palazzo Chiara was lit up like a fairy-tale castle. He pulled up by the waiting valet and scooted around to help Grace out before she tripped on the stones or something equally unfortunate. But his half-sarcastic gallantry was rewarded when he saw the look on her face as she gazed at the palazzo.

‘You like it?’ He couldn’t help smiling at her reaction.

‘It’s huge.’

‘The Villa Rosetta is big.’ He puffed out his chest.

Her eyes kindled with amusement. ‘You’re defensive about size? I never would have suspected you’d be so insecure.’

‘I told you I needed armour tonight.’ He winked. ‘You think it’s better than the Villa Rosetta?’

‘Nothing is better than Alex’s roses,’ she declared loyally. ‘This place is too huge. It’s beautiful, but it’s not a home. The Villa Rosetta is a home—you can sense the love in it.’

Her genuine words touched a raw spot and he refrained from replying by guiding her into the reception hall. A liveried waiter stepped forward with a gleaming silver tray laden with tall champagne flutes.

‘You’re sure you don’t want a drink?’ Rafe teased her.

She shook her head. He passed on the offer as well and walked her further into the room so she could appreciate the gold and marble interior. Her breathy gasps delighted him and he kept walking, aware of heads turning. He carefully avoided eye contact with a couple of the models due at the villa tomorrow. He didn’t want to be interrupted yet. Grace’s face was fascinatingly mobile and it was impossible for her to hide her reactions. Captivated, he pointed out more of the various features—from the tumbling crystal chandeliers to the sparkling waterfall in the centre of the room. But she saw some of the people looking their way and definitely recognised some.

‘Famous people,’ she noted quietly. ‘Rich people.’

‘Rich and famous people.’ He nodded.

‘A Venn diagram of the upper echelon.’ She nodded. ‘And just one outside the circle.’

‘Is that one feeling self-conscious?’

‘Absolutely. But she’s absolutely determined to get over herself.’

He laughed, liking her frankness.

‘Pleasure to see you here, Rafe.’ Toby Winters, a party-hard aristocratic banker with a vast holiday estate on the lake, interrupted them loudly. ‘I heard work on Villa Rosetta is complete. Welcome to the neighbourhood.’

‘Thank you,’ he said calmly. ‘Julia, lovely to see you.’

Julia, Toby’s wife, was too busy looking Grace over to bother answering. Besides, Toby had intervened again.

‘You’re racking up quite the portfolio,’ Toby said. ‘I envy your energy.’

Rafe smiled but tuned into the conversation that was occurring about a foot lower than his eye level, where Julia was interrogating his fish-out-of-water guest.

‘I’m only here because he made me come,’ Grace said.

Oh, Lord. Did she have any idea how that husky comment was going to be interpreted?

Grace had offered Julia a disarming smile, but Julia wouldn’t disarm in any way.

‘He made you?’ Julia’s eyebrows might have risen had her forehead not been fixed in place by the poison she’d injected beneath her skin.

‘I’m working for him.’ Grace blushed. ‘C-currently... Just for...’ She trailed off.

Rafe gritted his teeth to stay serious.

‘You work for Rafe?’ Julia asked archly.

Grace, in her oblivious innocence, nodded.

‘Yes.’ Julia raked Grace over from head to toe with a frigid glare. ‘I can see exactly in what capacity you work for him.’

Because Grace didn’t look like a PA or a secretary or a housekeeper or even a gardener. Julia grabbed her husband’s arm and all but dragged him away. Grace turned shocked eyes on Rafe, her pretty skin now stained scarlet.

‘She thinks I’m...’

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. And she was blushing again. Rafe threw his head back and laughed. She was stunned at Julia’s interpretation. That meant she was even more naive and innocent than he’d already suspected. In her skirt and floral shirt she’d looked sweetly gorgeous. In the killer white dress she looked both voluptuous and shy and it made for a mouth-watering combination. But he wanted to ease her embarrassment now. So he opted to tease.

‘A paid escort?’ He nodded. ‘I believe so. You were the one who answered the question.’

‘It’s this dress.’ She put her hand up to hide that glorious cleavage. ‘I told you it was indecent.’ She paused as a thought struck her and she blinked rapidly. ‘Why would they think you would require the services of a paid escort?’

The compliment hidden in there was so unguarded it made it all the more touching. Something was seriously wrong with him. He could not be going crazy with lust for some random woman he’d found wandering in his garden...

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he answered idly. ‘You weren’t exactly keen on being my date. I had to pressure you to come.’

And, yes, he’d meant her to catch that lame double entendre that Julia had already picked up on. He’d like nothing more than to make Grace come.

She flushed even more beautifully. ‘Because I don’t know you. Anyway, you didn’t ask me because you wanted to date me. You wanted to pay me back for ruining your suit.’

‘Did I?’

She stared up at him, her eyes melting. ‘Stop it. You’re an appalling flirt. It’s like you can’t help yourself.’

Right now it seemed he couldn’t. ‘Who says I’m flirting?’

Rafe watched Grace roll her eyes with outlandish expressiveness and then she glanced past him. ‘I’m hungry. Isn’t there any food?’

‘People are here to be seen, not to scoff.’

‘Heaven forbid they be seen munching.’ She looked about some more before a small pout of disappointment drew his attention to her lips. ‘I think I’ll have a drink after all.’

He signalled a passing waiter and lifted a flute of champagne off the tray for her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘One won’t hurt me.’

More people came over—offering congratulations and conversation, soliciting his attention and seeking to satisfy their own curiosity. Grace was oddly quiet as he chatted, offering only a nod as he introduced her to them as his friend. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting how swiftly the champagne was disappearing from her glass. She was sipping to stop herself from speaking, he just knew it. And the sparkle in her eyes was growing brighter by the second. Turning abruptly, he excused them both from the company and walked her towards the open doorway for some fresh air.

‘They all want something from you.’ Grace drained the last drop from the crystal flute. ‘Honestly, they were all over you like some hideous disease. Every last one, sucking up.’

He was the one wanting to suck up. He couldn’t take his eyes from her mouth and he really needed to get a grip. ‘Everybody wants something from me. Attention. Money,’ he said dryly. Everything always came back to money. And he was under no illusion that if he had none, those people wouldn’t come within fifty feet of him.

‘I don’t want either of those things,’ she said cheerfully.

No, it seemed she might not. But maybe he could make her change her mind on the attention front.

‘Let’s go look at the lake. It must be fireworks time soon.’ She walked out the wide-flung doors but came to an abrupt halt on the patio. ‘Who’s that guy?’ she whispered loudly, nodding her head in the direction of a tall, grey-haired man icily glaring at Rafe from further along the marble patio.

Rafe met the man’s stare for a second, then deliberately turned away. ‘No one important.’

Maurice Butler would never again have any importance in his life.

‘Yeah, right.’ She smothered a laugh. ‘If looks could kill, you’d both be dead.’

‘He’s a business acquaintance,’ he lied.

‘Really?’ She shot him a look. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Look at the lanterns.’ He pointed in the opposite direction.

He wanted to be alone with Grace, all his attention on her and her attention only on him.

‘But he’s coming over. He looks like he wants to talk to you.’

‘Well, I don’t wish to talk to him.’ Rafe firmly took her hand and walked her down to the lakefront.

‘It’s beautiful.’

The lights were reflected in her eyes and flickered across her face. She was so pretty. Sinful whispers swirled in his head, all the things he’d do to her, with her, for her. All the things he probably shouldn’t.

‘You’re using me to avoid talking to anyone else,’ she noted as they walked to the water’s edge.

‘Yes. It’s working well.’

‘Why did you bother coming at all if you didn’t want to talk to them?’

‘To be seen.’

‘Because?’

‘Because I’m here and they can’t ignore that fact.’

‘You have history with these people? With that man?’

He hesitated for a moment, but what did it matter if she knew? ‘That man you just asked about is my nephew. I heard he wanted to buy the villa. Unfortunately for him, I was the successful bidder.’

‘Your nephew?’ She turned around to stare again at the man still standing on the patio just outside the wide-open doors. He knew she was processing the vast age difference. Maurice was thirty-two years older than he.

‘You wanted to beat him more than you actually wanted the home?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing.

‘No, I wanted the villa.’ He turned to look out at the water so he didn’t have to see anyone from the family who’d made his life hell. ‘I always wanted the villa.’