Kitabı oku: «A Dangerous Taste Of Passion», sayfa 2

Or herself, for that matter.

CHAPTER THREE

LILY WAS TEMPTED to go for a swim that evening.

The prospect of feeling the soft water cooling her overheated body was so appealing after more than a week of avoiding the beach that she couldn’t resist.

Ironically, Dee-Dee had also mentioned Laura Mathews as soon as Lily got home from work that afternoon. Little gossip escaped her notice and anything to do with the Mathews family was worthy of a mention.

The West Indian housekeeper usually stayed to provide the Reverend’s lunch and prepare the evening meal for both of them. Most afternoons she was still there when Lily got home.

The news about the Mathewses warranted a longer discussion however. Apparently, the gossip was that Laura had been keeping her arrival under wraps. For some reason, no one had previously had an inkling that she was staying at the plantation.

But the news was out now. And, according to Dee-Dee, it was believed that Laura had lost her job in New York. Which might account for the low profile she’d been keeping since she got back. As far as Lily was concerned, she was sorry if things were not going well for the girl. Okay, Laura hadn’t had much time for Lily in recent years, but that didn’t mean she wished her ill.

Whatever, Lily put these thoughts aside as she dropped her clothes and towel on the sand and splashed into the ocean. It was almost completely dark and there was little chance of her being observed.

Not that there’d been any sign of anyone on the cliffs recently. If there had been, she’d have abandoned her plans.

She could hear the sound of drums in the distance and, knowing what it meant, a shiver ran down her spine. Her father wouldn’t be pleased if he learned that his daughter was swimming after dark just yards from the old slave cabins. He didn’t even approve of her swimming alone in daylight, and in all honesty Lily usually did what he said.

They’d lived together too long, she thought. Since her mother died when she was in her teens, William Fielding had become infinitely narrower in his outlook. He spent his time writing long boring sermons for his small congregation, and threatening Lily with all manner of retribution if she ignored his words.

Lily had put on a blouse and skirt for supper. Underneath, she’d put on her bikini briefs instead of panties. If her father had asked if she was going out, she wouldn’t have lied to him. Perhaps she’d have said she was going for a walk, which was only stretching the truth a little.

And she was twenty-four, after all.

The water felt cool at this time of the evening. It was because the sun had set and there was no heat in the moon’s pale light. Yet, glinting on the water, it had its own beauty, a mystical appeal that evoked romantic images of a man and woman making love.

Not that she’d had a lot of experience in that area. A couple of clumsy couplings while she was at university, and a brief affair with her father’s curate, had pretty well cured her of casual sex.

Dee-Dee had assured her that with the right partner it could be wonderful. But then, Dee-Dee wanted her to attend one of the ceremonies that sometimes took place and see what she was missing for herself.

So far Lily had resisted her efforts. Not that she wasn’t curious, because she was. She wondered if Rafe Oliveira had had any experience of black magic. Though why she should associate those thoughts with him after only one encounter was rather more disturbing.

Turning onto her back, she gazed up at the arc of stars above her head and let his dark face fill her vision. It wasn’t difficult. She’d been thinking about him off and on for days.

But the sudden quiver in her belly, the sensation of liquidity between her legs was different. So different that she found herself suddenly short of breath.

What was happening to her? With a tentative hand, she explored the source of her feelings, shivering with an ache that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She felt weak, trembly, totally unlike her normal self.

Dear God, was this what Dee-Dee had been talking about? Would sex with a man like Oliveira be everything the old woman had said and more?

She tried to relax. She didn’t have that much longer before her father would start wondering where she was. And it was such a beautiful evening. A night for lovers, she thought, allowing her hand to stray over her stomach to the tight buds of her nipples.

And then she caught her breath in alarm. Someone was there, standing in the shadow of a clump of palm trees that grew at the edge of the dunes. It was a man; she was sure of it. And another image of Rafe Oliveira flashed before her eyes. Immediately, she turned onto her stomach and gazed fiercely into the darkness. But, although she stared until her eyes ached with the effort, the shadows, when they eventually shifted, revealed nothing but the trees.

She frowned. Could she have imagined it? She was tired, and in the darkness it was easy to create shapes in the gloom. But the warnings she’d been given came back to haunt her and she swam quickly back to the shore.

The idea that what she might have seen had been less substantial than a human being didn’t reassure her. Dee-Dee’s talk of black magic, the distant sound of the drums, were too real to be ignored. As for the souls of the walking dead… Lily shivered again. It was all too easy to be spooked by such tales.

Deciding she’d spent too long in the water, Lily walked bravely up onto the beach. She towelled herself dry more urgently than usual and then quickly dressed in the skimpy cap-sleeved blouse and pleated skirt.

The blouse was made of amber lace, and clung to her still-damp breasts and shoulders. But although her skirt was shorter than normal and provocatively flared, it was less revealing. She hesitated before peeling off the bikini briefs. But who was going to see her now? There was no dark figure on the cliffs to watch her and, with a slightly jerky movement, she stripped them off.

She didn’t like to think what her father would say if he could see her. Yet what had she done, after all? Swum after dark—albeit topless—without his permission? Taken off her wet briefs so her legs would dry.

It wasn’t anything any other girl her age might have done, she assured herself. However strictly he treated her, she needed some freedom. And he needed to remember she wasn’t a child.

Lily had reached the modest rectory before she saw the vehicle parked to one side of the building. It was a large four-by-four, and it was unfamiliar to her.

Which made her apprehensive. She’d have thought she’d recognise any automobile that might turn up at her father’s door. After the feelings she’d had while she was taking her swim, it was worrying. If they had visitors, then Reverend Fielding was unlikely to be holed up in his study as she’d anticipated.

Before she could formulate any plan as to how she was going to get into the house without being seen, a man stepped out of the shadows to confront her.

‘Buenas noches, Ms Fielding,’ he said with suave politeness. ‘Are you well?’

Rafe Oliveira!

Lily was instantly conscious of the amber lace clinging to her breasts like a second skin and the embarrassing knowledge that, whether he knew it or not, she was naked under her skirt. The pleasant draught of cool air that had fanned her thighs as she walked up the beach was now banished by the rush of heat that spread down from her stomach. And an insistent pulse made itself felt between her legs.

Because of this, because she felt so damnably vulnerable, her response was uncharacteristically sharp.

‘Have you been spying on me again, Señor Oliveira?’ she demanded, not caring right then whether the accusation was justified or not.

The veranda behind them was lit by hanging lanterns and in their muted light she saw the way his eyebrows rose. His dark eyes registered first surprise, then amusement.

‘I have not been spying on you, Ms Fielding,’ he said mildly. ‘Though I have to admit I think it is most unwise to swim alone at this time of the evening.’

‘So you were watching me!’

‘No! Por el amor de Dios.’ He was impatient. ‘Your father was worried about you. He said you’d gone for a walk. As he was worried, I offered to look for you. I have just stepped out of the house. And here you are.’

Lily chewed on her lower lip. ‘I suppose you guessed I hadn’t gone for a walk?’

‘I did not give it a great deal of thought,’ retorted Rafe not altogether truthfully. But he knew exactly what she meant.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Lily didn’t know whether to believe him or not. He was wearing black this evening, or some dark colour anyway. It accentuated his disturbing appeal and, despite her irritation, Lily was not immune to it.

‘Are you going to tell my father I was lying to him?’ she persisted, and Rafe made a careless gesture with his hands.

‘Why should I?’ he asked indifferently. ‘You are not a child, Ms Fielding. If you choose to behave recklessly, that is your…um…funeral, no?’

Lily’s expression was mutinous. ‘So why did you offer to look for me?’

Rafe shook his head. ‘I could say I was concerned about you, but in all honesty I was more concerned about the poor bastardo who might be arrested as a—what do you say?—a Peeping Tom, no?’

Lily held up her head. ‘There was no one else around,’ she insisted.

‘You are sure?’

She wasn’t. Remembering her nerves when she’d heard the drums earlier, and her belief that there had been someone hiding in the trees, Lily had no answer to that.

‘Well, as you can see, I am safely home,’ she said stiffly. ‘Don’t let us keep you.’

Rafe’s teeth ground together in frustration. ‘Do you think it is wise to alert your father to your return until you have had time to change?’

‘I’m sure Daddy is working in his study. He’s probably forgotten all about my absence by now.’

‘You think?’ Rafe’s dark eyes swept down her body. ‘Having met Father Fielding—’

‘It’s the Reverend Fielding, actually.’

‘Bien.’ Rafe allowed himself to be corrected. ‘No obstante, having met Reverend Fielding, I would not put my faith in that belief.’ He gestured to the house behind him. ‘I am of the opinion that he is waiting for us both to return.’

Lily’s face flamed. ‘Well, so what? He’s unlikely to ask what I’ve been doing while you’re here.’

‘Possibly not.’ Rafe thought he was being extremely patient in the circumstances. ‘But, perdón, is that not part of your bikini dangling from your fingers? It is, as they say, a dead giveaway, no?’

Lily caught her breath. She’d forgotten she was carrying the briefs. And how revealing was that?

Rafe sucked in a breath. ‘I assume you are aware there are certain—illegal—activities taking place at this moment in the old slave cabins at the end of the beach.’

Lily suppressed the urge to cross her legs. How did he know what was going on in the old cabins? It increased the possibility that someone else might have been watching her? she thought uneasily.

She shivered. There was something disturbingly intimate about this conversation.

‘I… I’d better go and change, señor,’ she said, deciding she might have misjudged him. But when she attempted to go past him, Rafe stepped into her path.

‘You should not take your safety for granted, you know,’ he said softly, and Lily suddenly found it difficult to take a breath. He put out his hand and lifted a strand of her wet hair, rubbing its silky texture between his thumb and forefinger. ‘It would be very easy for…someone…to take advantage of you.’

Lily swallowed a little convulsively and Rafe’s hand fell to his side. Whatever vibes she’d been giving off, he’d evidently thought better of the impulse to touch her.

Which was a shame because, for a heart-stopping moment, she’d wanted him to pull her into his arms.

And how crazy was that?

He stepped back, spreading his hands again in a gesture of acceptance. But when Lily moved to leave, he said softly, ‘Please, when next we meet do not address me as señor. My name is Rafe.’ His lips twisted. ‘I wish you would use it.’

The air left Lily’s lungs on an uneven breath. Had he sensed what she’d been thinking? It was difficult to know. But one thing was certain—on an island as small as Orchid Cay, the chances of them meeting again were almost unavoidable. And she should remember that.

‘I must go,’ she said and hurried past him, her flesh tingling uncontrollably at the brush of his taut muscular frame against hers.

He followed her inside, intercepting her father, enabling her to make her escape upstairs. And for that she was grateful. But if he hadn’t turned up as he had, her father would probably have been none the wiser.

He was gone by the time she came downstairs again. She’d taken a quick shower and changed into clean shorts and a tee shirt. But her father was standing in the doorway to his study, and one look at his face as he bid her to join him warned her that he expected an explanation.

‘Where have you been?’ he demanded at once and, although Lily knew he must have been worried about her, she resented his domineering tone. ‘You didn’t say you were going for a walk on the beach. You’ve been gone more than an hour!’

Lily pressed her lips together, silencing her indignation. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s not good enough, Lilian.’ William Fielding frowned. ‘You know how I worry about you.’

‘I am sorry.’

Lily didn’t know what else to say, but fortunately William Fielding had other things on his mind.

‘We’ve had a visitor,’ he said abruptly. ‘A Señor Oliveira. From Orchid Point. I would have liked you to meet him.’

‘I did meet him,’ began Lily, not knowing what Oliveira might have said and determined not to prove herself any more of a liar than she felt already.

But her father wouldn’t let her finish. ‘I know that,’ he interrupted her shortly. ‘He offered to go and find you. I don’t know what you were thinking, Lily. You must know what goes on at the other end of the beach after dark.’

She was contemplating her response when her father spoke again. ‘You’ve changed your clothes,’ he said, having just noticed her damp hair. ‘Wasn’t it a little late to have a shower?’

‘I was hot,’ declared Lily, refusing to be provoked. She paused. ‘What did Señor Oliveira want? I didn’t know you knew him.’

‘I didn’t until this evening.’ William Fielding’s brows remained creased. ‘I assume he introduced himself to you when he found you.’

Lily sighed. ‘Actually, I’d already met him. He came into the agency a few days ago looking for Ray.’

Reverend Fielding frowned. ‘I wonder what he wanted with Myers.’

Lily shrugged. ‘To hire a boat, maybe.’

‘Oh, I think not.’ Her father shook his head. ‘I’m sure a man like him will have his own yacht.’

Now it was Lily’s turn to frown. ‘A man like him?’ She echoed his words. ‘Who is he? What do you know about him?’

‘Only what I’ve read in the newspapers,’ replied her father defensively, retiring behind his desk. ‘You must have heard he used to run a successful group of companies in New York.’ He stared at her, his eyes intent suddenly. ‘I can’t believe that piece of gossip slipped either yours or Dee-Dee’s notice.’

Lily tried to control the warmth that flooded into her throat as he spoke.

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But that doesn’t explain what he was doing here.’

Her father sank into his leather recliner now, lifting his shoulders dismissively. ‘I imagine he wanted to meet me.’

‘But why?’

‘Does there have to be a reason?’ Reverend Fielding looked impatient. ‘The man’s living on the island, Lily. Perhaps he felt in need of spiritual guidance.’

‘And did you give him spiritual guidance?’ Lily couldn’t hide her scepticism.

‘As most of my energies were taken up with finding you, then no, our conversation was correspondingly brief.’

And, as if reminded of her transgressions, her father’s scowl deepened. ‘But I will not be made to feel guilty when we both know you were in the wrong.’

Lily caught her breath. ‘I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Dad.’

‘It sounds like it to me. Trying to shift the blame, at the very least.’

Lily shook her head. ‘I just don’t understand why that man would come to see you. You’re an Anglican minister. He’s Spanish. He must be a Catholic.’

‘Dee-Dee supports another religion entirely, but she comes to my church on Sundays,’ declared her father, showing he wasn’t half as ignorant of what was going on as she’d imagined. ‘Has it occurred to you that his own church may have let him down?’

Lily blinked. ‘Let him down, how?’

‘Well…’ Her father looked a little reluctant to continue. ‘We don’t know how it happened, do we?’

‘How what happened?’ Lily was impatient. ‘There is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’

‘Only that we shouldn’t judge anyone lest we ourselves be judged in return,’ replied her father pedantically, resorting to one of his texts instead of giving her a straight answer.

He shuffled the papers on his desk and gave her a nod of approval. ‘At least you’re home safely, my dear.’ He rescued his prayer book from beneath the pile of notes. ‘Shall we offer a little prayer of thanks?’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘THAT FEMALE IS here again,’ said Steve Bellamy, putting his head round the door of Rafe’s study after the most perfunctory of knocks. ‘Do you want me to deal with her?’

Rafe, who had been examining a nautical map showing all the shoals and reefs present in the waters surrounding the island, looked up with a blank expression. ‘Qué?’

‘Laura Mathews,’ Steve prompted, coming further into the room. ‘Grant Mathews’s daughter.’ Steve regarded him enquiringly. ‘But I see you’re busy.’

Rafe met the man’s challenging gaze with a slight smile playing about his lips. ‘She is very persistent.’

‘She is.’ Steve shrugged. ‘What would you like me to tell her?’

Rafe shook his head. He didn’t feel like dealing with a possibly hysterical woman. ‘Tell her I’ve gone sailing,’ he said, throwing his pen down on the desk and getting to his feet.

Steve’s eyebrows rose. ‘But you don’t have a sailing vessel at present, Mr Oliveira. Your boat is still moored in Newport.’

‘She doesn’t know that,’ retorted Rafe, refusing to acknowledge why the prospect of looking at sailing craft suddenly filled him with such a feeling of anticipation. ‘As far as Ms Mathews is concerned, I will be away for the rest of the day.’

* * *

Lily was sitting at her desk, sorting through a pile of invoices to see which needed paying first, when she heard the outer door open. Ray was manning the agency this morning so she didn’t bother to leave her seat.

But, hearing Ray’s gruff voice interacting with one that was all too familiar, she felt a film of perspiration dampen her upper lip. A thread of moisture trickled down between her breasts and she sucked in a nervous breath. She had hoped it might be some time before Rafe Oliveira came into the agency again.

Shifting a little uncomfortably on her chair, she tried not to listen to their low-voiced exchange. She wasn’t interested, she told herself. The reasons for Oliveira being here had nothing to do with her.

Her thighs were sticking to the plastic seat, however, thanks to the cotton shorts she was wearing. She wanted to move, to conceal herself in the restroom but, when she tried getting up, the legs of her chair scraped noisily over the wooden floor.

She almost groaned aloud. Now Oliveira would know she was there, eavesdropping on their conversation. Spying on him! Gritting her teeth, she got up and switched on the radio, tuning in to a Southern States reggae station that successfully drowned out any other sound.

She wondered if Oliveira knew Cartagena Charters was in trouble. Obviously Ray had contacted him. That was why he’d come into the agency a week ago. But the notion that he might decide to invest or even become a partner in the firm was something else. It was looking more and more likely that the man did have some interest in the company.

‘Lily, have you got a minute?’

Before she could continue with that thought, Ray interrupted her. She had no choice now. She had to show herself.

She paused a moment, examining the open neckline of her shirt, checking that the hem wasn’t displaying any revealing wedges of skin. Then, resigning herself in anticipation of Rafe’s dark-eyed appraisal, she came round the screen to the front of the agency.

Rafe sensed her reluctance to speak to him again as soon as he saw her. She had her glorious mane of sun-streaked brown hair skewered in a precarious knot this morning and she was wearing a simple white shirt and coffee-coloured shorts.

Nothing glamorous, but she looked stunning even so. And probably didn’t realise it.

‘Yes?’ she said, deliberately not looking in Rafe’s direction. ‘Did you want something, Ray?’

‘Yeah.’ Myers glanced at his companion before continuing amiably. ‘You’ve met my assistant, Lily, haven’t you, Mr Oliveira?’

Rafe inclined his head as Lily was obliged to acknowledge him. ‘Por supuesto,’ he said smoothly. ‘It’s good to see you again…um… Lily.’ The hesitation over her name was deliberate, she was sure.

His slight yet unmistakable accent scraped across her nerves, like sandpaper over raw skin. His dark eyes were surveying her with their usual intentness, making her aware of her shortcomings, making her aware of herself.

She managed a polite smile and then, turning to her employer again, she arched an enquiring brow. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Hell, no!’ Ray was far too eager to dismiss that idea, in her opinion. ‘I want to show Mr Oliveira the layout of the marina, that’s all. To show him what a successful business we’ve got here. Could you delay your lunch break for another—oh, say an hour?’

‘Of course.’

Rafe thought there was a trace of doubt in her agreement. But an element of relief, too. What was troubling her? Had she been afraid her employer would ask her to show him around?

But no. It was obvious Myers was intent on trying to usher Rafe out of the door before Lily could say another word.

For his part, Rafe was less inclined to accommodate him. He would have much preferred to talk to Lily. She must know what was really going on with the agency. But she’d evidently not been eager to see him again and he could guess why.

That whole incident about her swimming after dark was obviously still niggling her. Yet all he had been concerned about was her safety.

But did she believe that?

Did he?

‘Okay.’ Ray grinned at Lily and she concluded he was optimistic about this development. ‘After you, Mr Oliveira. If we hustle, we may have time for a beer at Mac’s Bar.’

Rafe said nothing. He had no intention of making this a social occasion. But if it pleased Myers to pretend otherwise, then so be it. The guy would find out soon enough.

‘Adios, Lily,’ he said, resisting Myers’s attempt to hurry him. ‘Hasta luego!’ See you later!

Lily only nodded, but Rafe could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She had cat’s eyes, he thought, green and wary. Was part of the struggle she was having an effort not to let Myers down? He suspected she knew more about the business than she was saying.

When the door closed behind them, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been half afraid that Ray might ask her to accompany them. And how could she remain silent if he started boasting about the agency’s success again?

* * *

They were back in less than half an hour.

Lily, who had been expecting them to be at least an hour, felt a surge of curiosity as Rafe Oliveira followed Ray into the agency. Why had they come back? Why hadn’t they done as Ray had suggested and continued their conversation in Mac’s Bar?

Did Oliveira want to look at the agency’s financial statements? It seemed likely. Ray was a fool if he thought he could pull the proverbial wool over the other man’s eyes.

But, ‘Hey,’ Ray greeted her cheerfully enough, though she could tell from his expression that things hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned. ‘You can get off now,’ he added as Lily got to her feet, and she realised he wanted to discuss his business without a critical audience.

‘Okay.’

Lily’s eyes flickered over Rafe Oliveira before she scooted into the back to get her bag. Then, with a half-smile that she managed to offer to both of them, she pulled open the door and escaped into the hot humid air of midday.

She usually bought a sandwich and a cappuccino at the nearest coffee shop before finding a quiet spot in Palmetto Park to eat her lunch. With its tree-shaded paths and tropical gardens, the park was a favourite place for picnics.

It adjoined the harbour, and in centuries past had been the holding area for slaves bought by local wealthy landowners. Lily had always thought it was fitting that it had now been turned into an amenity everyone—rich or poor—could enjoy.

She’d walked a little away from the agency and was preparing to cross the street when a hand gripped her arm just above her elbow.

Her initial reaction wasn’t one of alarm. She’d lived on Orchid Cay all her life and there were few people among the locals she wasn’t familiar with. Yet almost immediately the strength and coolness of those hard fingers had her turning to see who had accosted her, and she wasn’t entirely surprised to see Rafe Oliveira’s dark face.

‘Hi,’ he said, releasing her almost at once. ‘Can we talk?’

Lily was tempted to say No and walk on, but that would have been rude. Besides, she was fairly sure Ray wouldn’t like her to offend the man.

‘It’s my lunch hour,’ she said unnecessarily. He had obviously heard what Ray had said earlier. ‘If this is to do with the business, I think you ought to speak to Mr Myers.’

Rafe expelled an exasperated breath. ‘This has nothing to do with Ray Myers,’ he declared shortly. ‘I know it is your lunch hour. I heard what was said. That was what I was about to ask you. Will you come and have lunch with me? There are lots of small eating establishments around here.’

Lily assumed a sudden interest in the strap of her bag. But that didn’t stop her pulse from racing like a jackhammer. Why was he doing this? Why in God’s name would he want to have lunch with her?

‘Why me?’ she asked at last, voicing her doubts. ‘Why not Ray?’

Good question! Rafe regarded her with considering eyes, wondering if he really knew the answer.

‘Perhaps I prefer to have lunch with a beautiful young woman,’ he said drily. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Well, I’m sure Mr Myers expected you to show more interest in the company,’ Lily declared stoically. ‘You hardly had time to assess the viability of the business before you left.’

Now Rafe’s dark brows arched expressively. ‘And that is your concern, sí? You are perhaps a partner in the company?’

Lily felt her face go red. ‘I work with Ray, that’s all.’ She paused. ‘But you must have had some reason for coming into the agency again.’

Rafe shrugged. ‘And if I did?’

Lily decided to go for broke. ‘Well, is it true? Have you decided to take a financial interest in Cartagena Charters?’

‘Have lunch with me and you may find out,’ said Rafe adroitly, watching the play of emotions that crossed her face.

Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. And then, as another thought occurred to her, ‘I bet this wasn’t Ray’s idea.’

‘I can understand why you would think that,’ he murmured softly. ‘You must know he is more interested in hiding the company’s failures than in presenting a balanced picture of its assets.’ He shrugged. ‘But you can tell him he will have to start telling the truth if he expects any further interest from me.’

‘Ray just exaggerates a little.’ Her tongue sought the roof of her mouth. ‘It hasn’t been an easy time for him.’

‘It has not been an easy time for anyone.’ Rafe stifled a curse, glancing about them in some exasperation. ‘And do you honestly expect me to continue this conversation here?’ He nodded across the street. ‘There is a man over there who has been watching me ever since I left the agency. What do you think he is doing, hmm? Propping up the sidewalk? Checking out the talent? I think not.’

Lily couldn’t help herself. Ignoring his groan of frustration, she turned to look. And, sure enough, there was a man standing across the street. But whether he was watching them was arguable. Besides, he had a camera hanging from his neck, just like any other tourist.

‘You think I’m paranoid, sí?’ Rafe taunted her. ‘You do not think that, after all this time, I might not recognise a paparazzo when I see one?’ He shook his head. ‘So, will you have lunch with me? If not, I—and my escort—will leave you alone.’

Lily’s lips parted as once again she gave the man, who did indeed appear to be watching them, another quick appraisal. It occurred to her that it might be herself that he was watching and her skin prickled as it had done that evening on the beach.

‘Who is he?’

‘I have no idea.’ Rafe shrugged. ‘He may be working for one of the tabloid newspapers, or perhaps he is DEA, or CIA. I do not care to find out.’

Lily stared at him. ‘But why would either the DEA or the CIA be interested in us?’

Rafe pulled a face. ‘Evidently you do not read the newspapers. Dios, my name was splashed across the headlines for weeks.’

Lily was stunned. She knew the DEA was the United States Drug Enforcement Agency. ‘Are you saying you were involved with drugs?’

‘Mierda! No!’ Rafe didn’t mince his words. ‘But I have no intention of defending myself here. What is your decision?’