Читать книгу A Prize Beyond Jewels - Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

A DECISION RAFE had serious reason to question when his assistant, Bridget, showed Nina Palitov into his office two hours later!

Rafe had been extremely busy over those two hours, having no intention of being caught wrong-footed again where this young woman was concerned.

His telephone conversation with Michael hadn’t been particularly helpful, his brother showing no interest in the fact that Nina Palitov was aged in her twenties rather than middle-aged, as Rafe had assumed she would be. Michael had simply repeated that it was Rafe’s duty to keep Miss Palitov sweet.

The Internet had proved a little more helpful regarding Nina Palitov, revealing that she had been born to Dmitri and Anna Palitov when her mother was thirty and her father in his mid-fifties, which now made Nina twenty-four. It also stated that Anna had died five years after Nina was born, but gave no cause for her premature death.

It also listed the schools Nina had attended, after which she had gone on to Stanford University, attaining a degree in art and design, before taking up a position in her father’s extensive business empire.

None of which changed the impact the flesh and blood Nina Palitov had on Rafe when she walked into his office at eleven o’clock.

Somewhere during the course of her morning’s work she had removed the bulky black sweatshirt, revealing a close-fitting white T-shirt beneath. The tightness of the material across her breasts also revealed that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath that T-shirt. Her breasts were small and pert, and tipped with darker nipples—the same peach colour as her lips?—as they pressed noticeably against that clinging white material, her abdomen silkily slender as the T-shirt finished just short of her low-rise denims.

She had dispensed with the baseball cap again, that over-abundance of fiery red hair a wild cascade onto the narrowness of her shoulders and down the slender length of her spine. A wild and fiery cascade that now made Rafe’s fingers itch to touch it.

And the rising, hardening of Rafe’s shaft told him his body had decided, completely in contradiction of his earlier decision to stay away from this young woman, that it also liked what it saw.

‘Mr D’Angelo?’ Nina prompted as he made no effort to get up and greet her but instead remained seated behind the black marble desk placed in front of the windows across the spacious room.

He had removed his jacket and put it on a hanger some time during the morning, his shoulder-length hair an ebony sheen against the white of his silk shirt. As she had suspected earlier, the broadness of his shoulders, muscled width of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen owed absolutely nothing to the perfect tailoring of his designer label suit.

Nina deliberately looked away from all that blatant maleness to take in the rest of the spaciously elegant office. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up two of the walls of the corner office, cream silk wallpaper adorned the other two, along with several filled bookcases and a bar, with a comfortable seating area in front of the second wall of windows.

All totally in keeping with the luxurious elegance associated with the world-famous Archangel galleries and auction houses. That reputation and the expensive opulence of this gallery were no doubt the reason her father had chosen Archangel as the venue to exhibit his collection.

Even so, Nina knew that her father would not appreciate the lack of manners Raphael D’Angelo was currently exhibiting towards his only daughter.

‘Is this an inconvenient time for you, after all?’ she questioned coolly as she turned back to look across the marble desk at him.

‘Not at all,’ he drawled as he finally stood up to turn away and take his jacket from the hanger and shrug it back on over his wide shoulders before facing her fully, dark brows raised over mocking gold eyes. ‘Did you decide to dispense with the bodyguards?’

Nina steadily returned that mocking gaze. ‘They’re standing just on the other side of that door.’ She nodded towards the closed door behind her.

Raphael D’Angelo grinned as he leant back against the front of his black marble desk, arms folded across the width of that muscled chest, every inch of him crying out hot, dangerous male, beware.

‘Out of consideration for the fact that I pose absolutely no threat to you?’

Out of consideration for the fact that Nina had told Rich and Andy that that was where they were going to wait for her. They hadn’t particularly liked it, but Nina had been adamant. Alone in Raphael D’Angelo’s office, very aware of his predatory maleness, and that wicked glint once again visible in those golden eyes, she wasn’t so sure of her decision.

Rafe D’Angelo was a dangerously attractive man who even Nina knew had the reputation of being something of a rake when it came to women. An outgoing love-’em-and-leave-’em type of man, in fact, and as such he was completely out of Nina’s own limited experience with men.

Which, she knew, was the main reason for her brusqueness towards him earlier this morning; she simply had no previous experience of dealing with men as powerfully attractive as Raphael D’Angelo. With any men at all, other than her father and bodyguards, if the truth be told.

Her father had become something of a recluse after her mother died, at the same time as he had become obsessively protective of Nina. That protection, from men like Rich and Andy, meant Nina had only been out on a few dates these past few years. Always with men her father had first approved of, and who had passed the stringent security checks made on them before Nina could so much as accept an invitation from them to even go out for a pizza.

Rafe D’Angelo, charming on the outside but with a steely and determined inner core, didn’t seem like a man who would give a damn about whether he passed security checks or not, if he should decide he was interested in a woman.

Not that Nina thought that he ever would be interested in her; she very much doubted she was beautiful or sophisticated enough to arouse the interest of a man as physically attractive and sought after as she knew Rafe D’Angelo to be. A man who could have any woman he wanted, and usually did.

But Nina knew instinctively, even from her brief acquaintance with him, that Rafe D’Angelo wouldn’t give a damn about whether or not he had her father’s or anyone else’s approval, or be bothered by the fact that Rich and Andy were standing on the other side of his office door, if he should feel the inclination to kiss her—

What on earth was wrong with her?

Anyone would think that she wanted Rafe D’Angelo to find her attractive. To kiss her, even.

Which was ridiculous. She was only at the Archangel gallery in order to oversee the installation and security of her father’s jewellery collection, nothing more. The fact that she was so totally aware of everything about Rafe D’Angelo—the silkiness of his overlong dark hair, that predatory glint in those golden eyes, the hard contours of that sculptured and ruggedly handsome face, the muscled strength of his body—was irrelevant, when she had no intention of allowing her attraction to him to go any further. When her father’s protection of her wouldn’t allow that attraction to go any further.

‘I’ve made arrangements for you to go down to the basement and view our security at twelve o’clock,’ Rafe D’Angelo informed her briskly now, the expression in those golden eyes guarded. ‘I trust that time is convenient for you?’

‘Perfectly, thank you.’ Nina nodded coolly. ‘You’re also aware, once the collection is in place, that there will be two men from my father’s own security detail in the east gallery guarding the collection at all times?’

‘So I believe.’ He nodded tersely.

Her brows rose at his tone. ‘You don’t approve?’

‘It isn’t a question of whether or not I approve,’ Rafe rasped. ‘But I find it a tad insulting that your father should feel it necessary, if you really want to know,’ he added with obvious impatience.

She shrugged. ‘I doubt my father suspects that you, or any of your employees, intend to steal the collection.’

‘How reassuring!’

Nina thought they had gone as far as they could on that particular subject; there was no way her father would back off on security for his precious jewellery collection, whether Rafe D’Angelo felt insulted or otherwise. ‘So, what was it you wished to discuss with me, Mr D’Angelo?’ she prompted lightly.

‘I thought we had agreed it would be Rafe and Nina?’ he reminded dryly. ‘Mr D’Angelo makes me sound like my stern older brother.’ He grimaced.

Nina raised auburn brows. ‘That would be the Michael D’Angelo who visited my father some weeks ago?’

‘You were able to recognise him from my description, hmm?’ Rafe drawled ruefully.

Nina shrugged narrow shoulders. ‘I found him to be polite, if a little...austere.’

That golden gaze narrowed. ‘You’ve actually met my brother Michael?’

Her eyes widened at the sharpness of his tone. ‘I was present when he and my father signed the contracts for the exhibition, yes.’ She nodded.

What the hell?

Rafe had spoken to Michael just an hour ago, a conversation in which his brother hadn’t acknowledged having actually met Nina Palitov. Admittedly Rafe hadn’t actually asked him if he had, but Michael certainly hadn’t mentioned having met her, either. Not earlier, or when the two of them had spoken on the subject at Gabe’s wedding; a conversation in which Michael also hadn’t bothered to contradict Rafe when he had made the assumption that Nina Palitov was middle-aged.

‘I saw the beautiful photographs, in the Sunday newspapers, of your younger brother’s—Gabriel, is it?—wedding on Saturday. The three of you are very alike.’

Rafe had been studying the tips of his highly polished black shoes, but he now looked up at Nina Palitov, his eyes narrowing as he saw how the sun, shining in through the window behind him once again picked out those gold highlights in that glorious red hair, her eyes a soft moss-green against her creamy soft skin, and as for her lips...

Rafe cursed softly under his breath as he straightened before moving to sit back behind his desk, his already semi-hard erection having given an acknowledging throb in response to his looking appreciatively at Nina Palitov’s lushly parted lips.

A totally unacceptable reaction as far as Rafe’s intellect was concerned—he had always liked a lack of complication in those tall leggy blondes he was usually attracted to. They spent a few weeks of enjoying each other, mainly in bed, and with no expectations on either side. Nina Palitov, who she was, who her father was, made an attraction to her as complicated as hell.

Unfortunately his once again rapidly hardening manhood still seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the subject.

Rafe chose to ignore that physical reaction as he now looked across the width of his desk at Nina Palitov between narrowed lids. ‘Yes, we are,’ he bit out dismissively. ‘And it was a lovely wedding. As lovely weddings go,’ he added with a dismissive lack of interest.

Nina smiled at Rafe D’Angelo’s obvious aversion to both weddings and marriage. ‘I’m sure it isn’t catching, like the measles or chickenpox!’

He gave a hard smile. ‘I’m immune if it is!’

‘Lucky you,’ Nina came back lightly. ‘Is that all you wished to discuss with me?’

Rafe D’Angelo blinked thick dark lashes, as if he had briefly forgotten that he was the one who had asked for this meeting, that emotion quickly masked as he gave a shrug. ‘Not quite. Why don’t you sit down for a few minutes?’ he invited lightly, indicating the chair across from him, waiting until Nina was seated before continuing. ‘Your father’s security aside, I thought we should decide exactly what your role is going to be at Archangel for the period of the exhibition.’

Nina shrugged slender shoulders. ‘As I’ve already stated, you will find that was already decided in the contract signed several weeks ago by my father, and your brother.’

‘I’ve had a chance to read the contract in more detail now.’ He nodded. ‘And I really can’t believe that you want to spend all of your time here for the next two weeks.’

‘You can’t?’ Nina mused.

‘No, I can’t,’ he repeated hardly. ‘There’s nothing more to do here now that the display cases have been delivered and put in place. I congratulate you on your work, by the way,’ he seemed to add grudgingly. ‘The display cases are exquisite.’

‘Thank you,’ she accepted shyly.

Nina had worked on making the display cases for almost four months now, since her father had first proposed the idea of exhibiting his jewellery collection in one of the New York galleries, taking several weeks and consultations with her father to decide on a combination of smooth pewter and bevelled glass, so as not to detract from the beauty of the jewels themselves. Each display case had its own intricate lock and security code, a code known only to Nina and her father. ‘They will look even more impressive once the jewellery is inside them.’

‘I’m sure.’ Rafe D’Angelo nodded abruptly. ‘The exhibition doesn’t open until Saturday; surely it isn’t going to take you more than a day or so to organise the display?’

‘It’s a very large collection.’

‘Even so...’

Nina eyed him teasingly. ‘If I didn’t know better, Rafe, I would think that you were trying to get rid of me for at least three of those four days?’

And she would be right in thinking that, Rafe acknowledged with rising impatience. Damn it, he had the whole of Archangel to run, not just the Palitov Exhibition, and he didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to cater to the whims and demands of the Palitov family. ‘Not at all,’ he dismissed smoothly.

‘I spoke to my father on the telephone earlier, and he wishes me to extend his compliments to you, and invite you to his home for dinner this evening, if that’s convenient?’ the youngest member of the Palitov family invited formally.

The frown deepened on Rafe’s brow at the invitation, knowing that Dmitri Palitov was as socially elusive as he was reclusive, but he now appeared to be inviting Rafe to go to his home for dinner this evening. Understandably so, perhaps, considering Rafe was now the D’Angelo brother in charge of the New York gallery the other man was entrusting his beloved jewellery collection to.

Rafe accepted all of that, he would just prefer not to become any more involved with the Palitov family than he already was, with Nina Palitov in particular. He especially didn’t want the watchful Dmitri Palitov to witness Rafe’s noticeably physical reaction to the man’s daughter.

‘Rafe?’

He scowled, his mouth firming. ‘I have a previous engagement this evening, I’m afraid.’ Thank heavens!

‘I see.’ Nina Palitov looked more than a little surprised at his refusal.

And no doubt that surprise was due to the fact that not too many people, if they were privileged enough to receive an invitation of any kind from the powerful Dmitri Palitov, would ever think of refusing it. As Rafe knew on a professional level he shouldn’t refuse this dinner invitation either, but rather reorganise his date with the actress Jennifer Nichols for another evening instead. No doubt that was what Michael would expect him to do, but, as Rafe was feeling far from pleased with Michael at the moment, he really didn’t give a damn what his big brother did or didn’t think!

Nina knew that her father, for all that he had made the dinner invitation a request, would still be far from pleased that Rafe D’Angelo had refused that invitation.

At the same time as she, personally, couldn’t help but admire Rafe for doing so. She loved her father dearly, but that didn’t prevent her from being fully aware of the fact that his power made him far too accustomed to having his own way, to exerting his will on others, and expecting them to ask ‘how high’ when he said jump. Rafe D’Angelo obviously wasn’t one of those people.

She nodded. ‘My father suggested, if that should be the case, that you choose another evening convenient to yourself?’

‘Let’s see.’ He made a point of opening and checking the large diary on his desk. ‘Tomorrow evening seems to be free at the moment?’

‘If that should change you can let me know tomorrow.’ Nina nodded, still amused rather than concerned by Rafe’s determination not to be dictated to by her father.

He raised dark brows. ‘You still plan on coming in to the gallery every day?’

‘My father expects it.’

Rafe D’Angelo relaxed back against his high-backed black leather chair as he looked at her through narrowed lids. ‘And do you always do what your father expects?’

Nina stiffened at the taunting tone in his voice. ‘It causes him less distress if I do, so yes,’ she confirmed abruptly.

‘Distress?’ He quirked one dark and mocking brow.

‘Yes.’ Nina had no intention of elaborating on that explanation.

Her father’s reasons for being so protective of her were none of Rafe D’Angelo’s business. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. It was what it was, and Nina accepted it as such. If she occasionally chafed against her father’s need for that protection, then that was her own affair, and not Rafe D’Angelo’s.

His golden, predatory gaze now raked over her with a deliberate, and mercilessly male, assessment, causing Nina’s nipples to swell and firm as that gaze finally settled on the pertness of her breasts as they pressed snugly against her T-shirt. Nina drew her breath in softly as the cotton material acted as a mild abrasive against her bared flesh, deepening that arousal, at the same time as she felt a hot gush of dampness between her thighs.

Her body didn’t seem to care that Rafe D’Angelo had deliberately set out to cause this response in her, that he was no doubt amusing himself at her expense as the ache in her nipples became an unbearable torture, and between her thighs swelled, became even more moist, as if in readiness for the stroke, the entry, of this man’s touch.

But Nina cared. Her father’s years of protection might have made her totally inadequate when it came to dealing with men as experienced as Rafe D’Angelo, but she wasn’t about to let herself be the cause of any man’s amusement, least of all the arrogant and mocking Rafe D’Angelo.

She stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll inform my father that you’ve accepted his dinner invitation for tomorrow evening,’ she bit out abruptly.

Rafe raised his gaze reluctantly from enjoying the pertness of Nina Palitov’s breasts, part of that enjoyment having been knowing, by the sudden tautness and swelling of her nipples, that she was far from immune to his appreciative gaze.

But one look at Nina’s face, seeing the pained accusation in those moss-green eyes, the creamy pallor of her cheeks, and the defensive angle of her little pointed chin, and he felt like a complete heel for having behaved so badly. He was angry with his own unexpected physical response to this woman, with Michael for putting him in this position in the first place, even a little with Dmitri Palitov for the same reason, but that didn’t give him the right to take that anger out on Nina.

Rafe stood up to move round to the side of his desk, the two of them now standing only inches apart. ‘Will you be joining us for dinner tomorrow evening?’ he prompted softly.

She looked up at him warily. ‘I believe my father will expect me to be there to act as his hostess, yes.’

His brows rose. ‘You don’t live with your father?’

‘Not quite.’ Nina smiled slightly as she thought of her apartment. It was located in the same building that housed her father’s penthouse apartment, a building that he also owned, and over which he had complete control of all security. Not the complete independence Nina would wish for, but it was better than she had inwardly expected after returning from Stanford.

Rafe D’Angelo eyed her quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’

She gave a shake of her head; her father didn’t discuss their living arrangements with anyone, and consequently some of that need for secrecy had rubbed off on her. ‘It means I will be at my father’s apartment for dinner tomorrow evening.’

‘But you aren’t about to tell me where you live?’ Rafe D’Angelo guessed ruefully.

‘No.’

‘Not even if I were to offer to call for you and drive you to your father’s apartment?’

‘No,’ she refused huskily. ‘And I know my father intends to send one of his cars to collect you. He wanted me to confirm that your apartment is still on Fifth Avenue?’

Rafe felt a stirring of unease; Dmitri Palitov seemed to know far too much about him for comfort—far more than Rafe knew about the other man or his beautiful daughter.

‘It is,’ he confirmed slowly. ‘Thank him for me, but I would prefer to drive myself.’ Having his own transport meant that Rafe could leave when he’d had enough. He also bridled at the thought of being organised by the arrogant Dmitri Palitov!

Nina Palitov frowned at his refusal. ‘I know my father would prefer to have one of his cars collect you.’

‘And I would prefer to drive myself,’ Rafe repeated unrelentingly.

‘I very much doubt you know where he lives.’

‘I doubt many people do,’ he came back knowingly.

‘No.’

He nodded briskly. ‘Perhaps you would like to leave the address with my secretary some time tomorrow? After you’ve spoken to your father again, of course.’

She chewed on her bottom lip, instantly drawing Rafe’s attention to those pouting, slightly reddened lips, and in turn to those captivating moss-green eyes. He realised his mistake as he felt as if he were drowning in those smoky-green depths.

Just as he was aware the rest of him was being pulled, as if by a magnet, towards her, as his head slowly lowered—

‘I should go and check security now,’ Nina rasped abruptly even as she stepped back and away from him. ‘I’ll pass your message on to my father.’

‘Fine.’ Rafe straightened abruptly, inwardly cursing the obviously increasing attraction he felt towards Nina Palitov, and sincerely hoping his date this evening with Jennifer would put that attraction out of his mind—and appease his aching body! ‘Do you want me to come down with you to view security in the basement?’

Nina gave a rueful smile at the obvious lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘I believe that I can find my own way, thank you.’

Rafe eyed her irritably. ‘I was being polite.’

‘I noticed,’ she drawled.

Rafe nodded abruptly before striding across to open the office door for her, a little disconcerted at instantly finding himself the focus of two pairs of wraparound sunglasses, the two bodyguards—Rich and Andy?— standing directly outside the door. ‘I assure you, Miss Palitov has come to no harm while in my office,’ he drawled mockingly.

There wasn’t so much as an answering smile in either of those two grimly set faces, neither man sparing Rafe a second glance as Nina stepped out into the hallway. ‘Good day to you, Mr D’Angelo,’ she murmured before walking off towards the lift, the two men falling into step behind her.

Which in no way hindered Rafe of the view of Nina Palitov’s heart-shaped backside in those tight-fitting denims. A view his once-again throbbing body enjoyed to the full.

He was in trouble—serious trouble!—Rafe acknowledged with a low groan, if just looking at the perfect curve of Nina’s bottom in a pair of tight-fitting denims could succeed in making his shaft swell and ache!