Читать книгу Hot Nights with a Spaniard: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure / Spanish Aristocrat, Forced Bride / Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge - Кэрол Мортимер, India Grey - Страница 13

‘NICE of you to join us,’ Rafe drawled dryly as Cairo stepped onto the terrace where he and Daisy were eating breakfast.

‘Good morning, Daisy.’ Cairo completely ignored Rafe’s jibe as she sat down next to her niece and poured herself a cup of coffee. ‘I knew you were up,’ she told him as she sat back in her chair cradling her mug of black coffee. ‘I heard you and Daisy talking hours ago.’

‘Was that before or after we went out and got breakfast?’ Rafe taunted as he helped himself to another of the freshly baked croissants.

‘Does it matter?’ Cairo asked airily.

She had been woken by Daisy’s overloud whispers at least two hours ago, Rafe’s equally audible replies telling Cairo that her niece wasn’t alone, and so she had simply pulled the duvet back over her head and gone back to sleep!

She gave a contented sigh as she gazed out at the tranquillity of the valley. ‘It’s another lovely day.’

‘We’re going home today, Aunty Cairo!’ Daisy could obviously contain her excitement no longer.

Cairo raised questioning brows at Rafe before giving her niece a quizzical smile. ‘We are …?’

Daisy nodded, her eyes glowing and her cheeks flushed. ‘I wanted to come and wake you hours ago so I could tell you, but Uncle Rafe wouldn’t let me disturb you.’

‘What I actually said, Daisy, was that women of your aunt’s advanced age need all the beauty sleep they can get!’ Rafe corrected mockingly.

Cairo had wondered just how she and Rafe were going to face each other again after the incident down by the pool last night—now she knew! Sarcasm was obviously the order of the day….

She gave him a saccharin-sweet smile. ‘And I thought we had agreed last night that, at the advanced age of thirty-seven, it’s you who needs your beauty sleep?’ That Rafe looked very lean and dangerously attractive in a white T-shirt and faded jeans gave lie to that statement!

Daisy turned to look at Rafe, her eyes wide. ‘Are you really thirty-seven, Uncle Rafe?’

Rafe gave a rueful nod of his head in Cairo’s direction as he heard the note of awe in Daisy’s voice. ‘Daisy, honey, when you’re older, you’ll realize that men are like a fine wine—they just get better as they mature.’

‘Or they become as sour as vinegar,’ Cairo put in lightly.

And not exactly honestly, where Rafe was concerned, she acknowledged inwardly. He did have at least one thing in common with a fine wine, as last night testified only too well—the last eight years had just made him more headily potent!

He looked across at her with teasing blue eyes. ‘I think your Aunty Cairo is—confusing her wines,’ he drawled.

That was quite enough of that conversation, Cairo decided firmly. ‘So, we’re leaving later today …?’ she prompted in a pointed attempt to change the subject.

Rafe continued to hold her gaze challengingly for several more seconds before nodding. ‘Jeff telephoned earlier; Margo and baby Simon are going to be discharged tomorrow morning.’

Cairo’s face lit up and she put her coffee mug down on the table so that she could give Daisy a hug. ‘That’s wonderful news!’

Rafe took advantage of Cairo’s momentary distraction to take in her appearance. She looked sleek and tanned this morning in a knee-length cream sundress, her legs bare and silky. She had cream flip-flops on her feet, and her face was bare of make-up, too, apart from a peachy gloss she had applied to her lips.

The lips that still looked slightly bruised from the force of their lovemaking the previous evening….

His stomach muscles clenched. Dammit, he had promised himself he wouldn’t think about last night! At least, not until after he had safely delivered Daisy back to Margo and Jeff, anyway….

Cairo was still smiling as she looked across the table at him. ‘What travel arrangements have you made for Daisy and me?’

‘For all three of us,’ Rafe corrected.

Cairo’s smile faded. ‘But you can’t leave yet—’

‘I can do what I please, Cairo.’ Rafe scowled.

‘But what about the film festival?’

‘What about it?’

Cairo shrugged. ‘I assumed you needed to be there to collect your award.’

‘If I win an award, my assistant director can pick it up,’ Rafe dismissed without concern. ‘It’s more important to get you and Daisy back to England.’

‘I’m quite capable of getting myself and Daisy back to England, thank you very much—’

‘I have a private jet organized to fly us out this afternoon,’ he cut in abruptly in a tone that brooked no argument.

Cairo frowned as she slowly released Daisy. ‘But I came over in my car….’

‘I’ve also made arrangements for your car to be collected and driven back to England.’

Her brows rose at his arrogance. ‘I really would rather drive my own car back, if you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t mind in the least,’ Rafe drawled. ‘But you might want to look at these before making a definite decision on that …’ He pushed a pile of newspapers across the table towards her.

Cairo glanced down at the newspapers, her eyes widening as the very first one in the pile, an English publication, had a front-page photograph of herself and Rafe smiling at each other as they sat at the table together in the square in Grasse.

Cairo became very still as she pulled the tabloid newspaper further across the table. Although that hadn’t been necessary in order to be able to read the three inch headline above the photograph: CAIRO AND RAFE FIND LOVE IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE!

Not exactly subtle. But, then, were any of the tabloids?

‘More photographs and story on page three’ was the smaller announcement beneath that damning photograph.

What story? Cairo wondered incredulously. Until she and Rafe returned to the villa last night there hadn’t been a story—

Oh, no …!

No!

Cairo could feel herself paling even as she quickly turned to page three, her breath leaving her in a relieved gasp as she saw that the ‘story’ actually only consisted of half a dozen more photographs of herself and Rafe together yesterday in Grasse.

‘That man didn’t take a single photograph of me, Aunty Cairo,’ Daisy told her indignantly.

‘Didn’t he, love?’ she answered distractedly as she moved on to the next newspaper in the pile.

This one, and the other four, all had photographs of herself and Rafe as they arrived at the party in Cannes together the previous evening.

Not a single one of those reporters had been enterprising enough to follow them back to the villa last night in the hopes of taking intimate photographs of her and Rafe together. Thank goodness!

She and Rafe looked good together, she realized with a fierce frown. With her wearing three inch heels they were of a similar height, Rafe’s dark hair and swarthy skin a perfect foil for her own fairer colouring as they stood close together, Rafe’s hand resting lightly beneath her elbow, a confident smile curving his lips.

Looks can be deceptive, Cairo decided firmly as she pushed the newspapers away to look across the table at the man himself. ‘Your point is …?’

God, she was beautiful when she was being haughty, Rafe acknowledged admiringly. If a little lacking in perception! ‘Surely it’s obvious? You turn up anywhere today expecting to travel home by public transport and you’re going to be mobbed by yet more reporters.’

‘Damn!’ She grimaced. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’

Rafe relaxed back in his chair as he regarded her mockingly. ‘Are you sure that’s appropriate language to use in front of Daisy?’

‘Daddy says damn isn’t swearing, Uncle Rafe,’ Daisy told him brightly. ‘And neither is—’

‘I think your daddy is using a lot of poetic licence, Daisy,’ Rafe teased. ‘Still not want to come on the plane with us this afternoon, Cairo?’ He arched quizzical brows.

Cairo didn’t want to go anywhere with Rafe, not this afternoon or at any other time! But neither was she stupid enough to turn down the offer when the alternative was sure to turn out to be the nightmare Rafe had just described.

She sighed with resignation. ‘What time do you want us to be ready to leave?’

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ‘Two o’clock should do it. We— Who the hell is that?’ He scowled darkly as he stood up to glare down at the car driving up the private road to the villa.

Cairo stood up to stand beside him, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she thought she knew exactly who it was.

Either another enterprising reporter.

Or, more likely, it was Lionel …

He had left three messages on her mobile during the night. The first had been pleasant as he told her how nice it had been to see her again yesterday evening.

The second one had started out pleasant enough, too, with him asking her to meet with him so that they could talk. Unfortunately, as so often happened, it had deteriorated into insults after that as Lionel, obviously the worse for champagne, accused her of having been involved in an affair with Rafe all the time they had been married. As if! Cairo hadn’t even been able to bear being on the same continent as Rafe for the last few years, let alone share the same bed after what he’d done to her.

Also predictably, the third message had been Lionel apologizing for the previous abusive one!

Cairo hadn’t returned any of those calls. What was the point? She might still feel a certain amount of guilt where Lionel was concerned, had always felt that her lack of love for him had contributed to his addiction for gambling, but all the guilt in the world couldn’t change the fact that they both knew their marriage was over.

‘Do you want me to deal with this if it’s another reporter?’ Rafe asked grimly, turning to look at Cairo as she made no response.

She was staring intently at the car as it slowly came up the service road, her dark eyes shadowed above hollow cheeks.

‘Cairo …?’ he prompted.

She drew in a ragged breath before turning to look at him. ‘I— Would you mind taking Daisy down to the pool or something?’ she muttered.

‘Why on earth would I—’

‘Because I think our visitor is Lionel, that’s why,’ she explained wearily.

Lionel Bond was coming here?

Rafe turned his attention back to the car, his gaze narrowed as he tried to identify person behind the wheel. Yep. It was Bond, all right.

He glanced down at Cairo. ‘Do you want to speak to him?’

‘Not particularly.’ She grimaced.

‘Then don’t,’ Rafe rasped.

She gave a wistful smile. ‘It isn’t as simple as that, Rafe.’

‘Yes, Cairo.’ Rafe nodded. ‘It really is.’

She looked up at him quizzically. ‘Maybe for you it is, Rafe.’ She sighed. ‘But I’ve never been able to be quite that cruel.’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind,’ he said curtly.

‘Like you were with me eight years ago?’ she challenged.

Rafe’s mouth thinned at the accusation. ‘I don’t believe we were talking about you and me.’

‘No, of course we weren’t,’ Cairo said immediately. ‘Forget I said that.’

Rafe wasn’t sure he wanted to forget it. He had been so stunned when Cairo had ended things between them so unexpectedly, quickly followed by her announcement of her engagement to Bond, that the two of them had never got to talk about the abrupt end of their own relationship.

Now probably wasn’t the best time to have that talk, either….

‘Okay, Cairo,’ he acquiesced. ‘Talk to Bond if that’s what you feel you have to do. But at the first sign of trouble I’m coming back up here to knock his teeth down his throat!’

Cairo stared up at him for several seconds before she gave an incredulous laugh. ‘I really don’t think that will be necessary, Rafe, but thanks for the offer!’

‘Believe me, it will be my pleasure.’

How strange that Rafe, of all people, should offer to be her protector, Cairo mused as she walked over to meet with Lionel in the driveway. Not that Cairo would ever ask for his help, but she could still appreciate the irony of the situation.

However, her rueful smile quickly faded to one of weary resignation as she approached Lionel. ‘How much do you need this time, Lionel?’ she asked heavily.

‘So what did he want?’

Cairo turned from packing the suitcase open on top of her bed, her expression becoming guarded as she looked at Rafe as he leant against the door frame.

She straightened. ‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Rafe.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think you’ll find, Cairo, that I don’t really care what you do or don’t consider my business.’

Rafe had spent the last fifteen minutes beside the pool watching from behind dark sunglasses as Cairo and her ex-husband talked together on the terrace, trying to gauge from their body language exactly what was going on. But Cairo’s ultra-calm demeanour and Bond’s animated one hadn’t really told him an awful lot.

He had expected Cairo to join him and Daisy beside the pool once the other man had got back in his car and left, but instead she had disappeared inside the villa.

To pack, it seemed …

‘Well?’ he prompted impatiently.

Cairo frowned. ‘I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not telling you anything—’ She broke off, her eyes widening as Rafe crossed the room in three long strides to stand just inches away from her. She swallowed hard. ‘Shouldn’t you be outside with Daisy?’

‘Daisy’s too excited about going home to swim any more and has gone to her room to dress, instead.’

Cairo had no intention of telling Rafe the reason for Lionel’s visit. It was awkward enough that Lionel had tracked down the reporter from yesterday in order to find out where she was staying with Rafe, without going into the details of their conversation.

‘Shouldn’t you be packing, too, if we’re leaving for the airport in a couple of hours?’ she pointed out, inwardly wishing Rafe wouldn’t stand quite this close to her; his proximity was totally unnerving her!

Rafe shook his head. ‘I find Bond’s visit much more interesting than packing.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes—really,’ Rafe drawled. ‘You made an intriguing comment yesterday evening …’

‘Just the one?’ she came back in mock disappointment. ‘And here I was deceiving myself that I’m much more interesting than that!’

Rafe gave an admiring smile as he appreciated the way Cairo was trying to change the subject. But Rafe had no intention of letting her succeed.

‘Oh, don’t worry, you are extremely interesting,’ he assured her throatily. ‘But you implied last night that it isn’t you Bond is interested in. So if it’s not you, what is it?’

Her smile faded as her gaze became guarded. ‘I really can’t discuss this with you, Rafe—’

‘Oh, but you really can, Cairo,’ Rafe insisted softly, his own gaze compelling.

She shook her head. ‘Not without breaking a confidence, I can’t,’ she told him determinedly.

Rafe’s eyes widened. ‘A confidence with Bond?’ he murmured disbelievingly. ‘You divorced the man three months ago!’ he reminded her.

‘Yes, I did,’ she acknowledged stiffly. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to actually hate him, does it? Or discuss his private business with someone he regards as—’ She broke off, frowning.

‘“He regards as” …?’

‘Never mind,’ Cairo said hurriedly. ‘Lionel and I may be divorced, but I don’t hate him,’ she insisted.

Rafe grimaced. ‘In my experience that’s what usually happens when two people divorce.’

‘Well, it isn’t true in my case,’ Cairo assured him firmly.

How could she possibly hate Lionel when she still felt so responsible for what had gone wrong between them? She couldn’t. But without telling Rafe the whole sorry story of her marriage, of the fact that she had married Lionel while still in love with him, she couldn’t even begin to explain her feelings of guilt …

‘I can see that,’ Rafe grated harshly. ‘Why bother to divorce him if you’re going to come running every time the man crooks his little finger?’

Her eyes glittered darkly. ‘It isn’t like that!’

‘Then what the hell is it like?’ Rafe demanded incredulously. ‘Last night you gave every impression that meeting Bond again was an ordeal for you, and yet today the two of you seem to have shared a pleasant conversation together!’

Cairo had found meeting Lionel again an ordeal because she had hoped—prayed—that when she ended their marriage, it might finally snap him into doing something about the mess his life had become. Those telephone calls last night, his visit today to ask her for money—yet again—told her that wasn’t the case….

But without revealing everything to Rafe—which she had no intention of doing!—she was never going to persuade him of that. Lionel had managed to hide his gambling addiction from everyone for years, and Cairo certainly couldn’t be the one to betray him now. Not even to convince Rafe that there was nothing between herself and Lionel.

Especially not in order to convince Rafe that there was nothing between herself and Lionel! Last night had shown her all too clearly just how dangerously susceptible she still was to Rafe….

‘I really would prefer it if you stayed out of my life, Rafe.’

‘And what if I would prefer to remain in it?’ he challenged.

‘This is ridiculous—’

‘I agree,’ Rafe interrupted.

Cairo scowled at him. ‘Can we just stop playing word games?’

He raised dark brows. ‘What other sort of games did you have in mind?’

She gave an impatient snort. ‘I’ve never particularly liked playing games of any sort,’ she snapped. ‘Even as a child I was always the one that landed on the snake!’

Rafe gave an appreciative grin. ‘I like you in this feisty mood, Cairo.’

‘I don’t want you to like me, Rafe!’ she insisted as she moved away from him to resume her packing, but not as neatly as she had earlier, instead throwing things haphazardly inside the suitcase.

Rafe continued to look at her through narrowed lids for several long minutes.

She didn’t seem overly upset by Lionel Bond’s visit. More resigned than anything else.

But resigned to what?