Читать книгу The Purest of Diamonds? - Susan Stephens, Susan Stephens - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT EXACTLY WAS she doing with Raffa Leon? What could they possibly have to talk about?

Anybody?

She had never done anything so out of character in her life. Yes, Raffa was charming, but he was practically a stranger—and a dangerous one at that, according to her sisters and the rather more scandalous tone of the press. Leila had always been glad she worked in a separate building from the mining company, if only because it put some space between herself and these high-powered, fast-living types.

But didn’t this unexpected encounter with a leading player in the consortium dovetail nicely with her determination to make this her breakout year?

Roar mouse?

Great idea, if she had the courage to summon up something more than a squeak. And what was Raffa up to? Why choose to spend time with her?

‘Shall we sit here?’ he suggested, indicating two comfortable armchairs facing each other across a sleek glass table.

‘Thank you.’

Even this close to such a powerhouse of testosterone made her feel incredibly aware and wary. His deep, velvety voice with that intriguing accent played in her head, and she had to remind herself that sweeping a woman away with whatever means he chose to employ was Raffa Leon’s stock in trade. Though he was hardly out to seduce her with so many other attractive women at the party.

Out of the archive department into the fire, she concluded with amusement as Raffa turned to give their order to the waiter. He looked so relaxed, while she was more like a schoolgirl on parade, sitting stiff and upright in her chair, waiting for the pronouncements of the headmaster.

Raffa knocked that idea on its head the moment he turned back to her. No headmaster on earth looked like this—such compelling dark eyes with that touch of humour, and a wickedly curving mouth.

‘I’m looking forward to a refreshing drink, without having it knocked out of our hands,’ he said, turning up the voltage on his smile.

It took her a moment to speak, she was so captivated, and then she experienced a moment of panic. What could she possibly say to him? How did you launch into a conversation with a notorious billionaire? How’s your yacht? Would that do?

‘What are you smiling at, Leila?’ he enquired, raising one sweeping ebony brow in a way that made her heart stop.

‘Am I smiling?’ She stopped smiling immediately. ‘I was just thinking, this is a great place, isn’t it? Such a good idea of yours.’ She made a point of staring round. Anything was safer than looking at Raffa.

‘It’s good to see you relax,’ he said, his eyes dark like the night and just as full of danger.

Relaxed? Was that what he thought? She doubted any woman could relax around Raffa Leon. He had this way of staring directly into your eyes that made it hard to look away. Impossible to look away, she amended.

So come out of your shell. Live boldly for once.

‘Here’s your juice,’ he said. ‘With a splash of lemonade as requested.’

As he handed it to her he was doing that eye thing—the curving smile, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes. It was all too easy to fool herself into thinking he was interested in her, when this was just his way. Raffa Leon was a charming and accomplished seducer, both in business and with women, and she had to get it into her head that this was just an innocent encounter and a refreshing drink. She had never been the type of girl men took up to their room. She was the kid sister they brought into the very public hotel lounge to share an orange juice with before the party.

And she should be pleased about that.

She was pleased. But she would be lying if she tried to pretend it wouldn’t be thrilling to have Raffa look at her with something other than humour in his eyes.

When she leaned forward to pick up her glass, her senses filled with the faint scent of his cologne. It was one of those intoxicating scents, hard to identify, but undoubtedly exclusive. She sat back again, wondering. What now? Raffa seemed content to let the silence hang between them, so maybe it was up to her to break the silence. Live boldly, for once! Pointing through one of the tall arched windows, she drew his attention to the park, picked out in lights at this time of night. ‘My mother used to take me over there to the park when I was a little girl so I could terrorise people on my three-wheeler.’

‘I never saw you as a hoodlum, Leila.’

So how did he see her? Raffa laughed as he set down his drink. A soft drink too, she noted.

Raffa felt his heart stir as he thought about a little girl taking every day with her mother for granted, and a young mother enjoying special time with her youngest child. Those days must have felt as if they would go on for ever. Neither of them could have anticipated Leila’s father’s descent into drunken violence, or the tragic plane crash and loss of life.

‘What are you thinking about now?’ he prompted, though he guessed Leila had inadvertently uncovered memories she didn’t normally share with strangers, and was probably regretting being so open with him. Insanely, he wanted to hug her and tell her it would be all right, but they didn’t know each other well enough for that. They had a party to go to, where Leila would have to be bright and cheerful, or her sisters would want to know why. He didn’t want to leave her shakier than when she’d fallen into his arms outside the hotel. What had begun as basic attraction and curiosity had gained an edge of care. Not that he felt responsible for Leila, and she wouldn’t want that. She’d been doing pretty well on her own up to now.

‘More juice?’

‘Please. Sorry, Raffa, I was miles away.’

Thinking about her mother’s letter, Leila realised as Raffa turned away to order more drinks. She’d been doing a lot of that recently, and she’d had plenty of time to memorise every word over the years.

My darling Leila,

I love you more than life itself, and want you to promise me that you will live your life to the full. You’re only a little girl now, but one day you’ll be a woman with choices to make and I want you to make the right choices.

Don’t be afraid of life, Leila, as I have been. Be bold in all you do—

It still haunted her to think her mother must have known she was in danger—maybe even that Leila’s father would go too far and kill them both. Leila had been too young to understand what had happened at the time of the crash, and it was only later when she was older that her sisters had explained that their father was most likely drunk at the controls of the plane. She’d done some investigating of her own at the local newspaper office and had got the picture of a violent alcoholic and a woman who had been the helpless victim of his rages.

‘Ice in your juice?’ Raffa broke into her thoughts.

‘No. It’s delicious as it is, thank you.’

‘Spanish oranges,’ he said, his dark face brightening with a smile. ‘The best.’

‘You’re partial.’

‘Yes, I am,’ he agreed, holding her gaze a beat too long.

It was long enough for her heart to pound out of control. Raffa was so worldly, and it was almost funny, the two of them being here together, when Skavanga was just one stop on Raffa’s round-the-world tour of his international business interests, and she had never been outside the town except for university, and even then she’d only gone a few miles down the road to the local college. As soon as she had qualified, she’d scuttled back to the place she knew best, the place she felt safest, where she could hide away in the archive department of a mining museum where it was quiet, and where there was no chance of meeting a wife beater, or an alcoholic. Or anyone for that matter.

‘So you’ve stayed in Skavanga all your life, Leila? Leila?’ Raffa prompted, his voice shaking her round.

She’d been trapped in the past, sitting on the stairs, listening to her parents arguing and hearing the inevitable thump when her mother hit the floor. And now, judging by the concerned look on Raffa’s face, he was joining her on this trip down memory lane too.

‘Yes, I’ve been here all my life,’ she confirmed brightly to make up for her lapse in concentration.

She was actually quite good at being jolly. She’d had plenty of practice over the years. Having been totally eclipsed by her beautiful sisters, she’d had the choice of being the mouse in the background, or the jolly sister. She’d perfected both. ‘I’ve always been close to my brother and sisters.’ At least, she had been, until her brother, Tyr, had gone missing.

‘It’s great to have siblings,’ Raffa agreed, ‘even if you don’t always get along.’

‘We get along. I just miss my brother, and I wish I knew where he was.’ Her stare met Raffa’s, but, if he knew where Tyr was, he wasn’t telling. ‘I know it must look to you as if my sisters run roughshod over me, but believe me, Raffa, I can hold my own.’

‘I never doubted it,’ he agreed, to her surprise.

But as Raffa’s smile faded, and a shadow crossed his face, she wondered about his family. She also realised they had relaxed into the last thing she had imagined sharing with Raffa Leon, which was a meaningful conversation.

‘What about you?’ she prompted gently. ‘What about your family, Raffa?’

The look he shot her made her regret asking. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to probe.’

‘That’s all right,’ he said, sitting back. He shrugged. ‘Apart from the three brothers and two sisters I do know about, I’m told I have countless half brothers and sisters across the globe, thanks to the untiring efforts of my father.’

‘And your mother—?’ That was one question she definitely shouldn’t have asked, Leila realised, breaking off when she saw the expression on Raffa’s face. ‘I’m sorry. I—’

‘Don’t be,’ he interrupted. ‘I was lucky enough to spend most of my youth with my grandmother. As soon as my elder brothers and sisters went off to college, my father made it quite clear that he was done with children.’

‘So there was no place at home for you?’

He didn’t answer that. He didn’t need to. What Raffa had told her explained so much about him. He was the lone wolf, dangerous, hidden and unknowable.

‘I’d like to meet your grandmother,’ she said, trying to bring him back to the present. ‘She must be an amazing woman.’

‘To take me on?’ Raffa queried, relaxing into a laugh. ‘She is. And maybe you will meet her one day, Leila.’

He was just being polite, but it was a relief to see him smiling again.

‘And you grew up with your sisters and brother,’ he prompted.

‘Who always teased me unmercifully,’ she confirmed.

‘And you don’t mind that?’

‘I tease them back. Families,’ she added with a smile and a shrug.

Raffa huffed softly and smiled back at her.

His eyes were so incredibly expressive they warmed her right through. The fact that Raffa was as hot as hell should have been warning enough for her to back off, but he was like a magnet drawing her closer, against her will. ‘My sisters tease me because they love me as much as I love them,’ she said to break the sudden electric tension between them. ‘I guess they’re always trying to make up for—’

‘Your mother dying when you were so very young,’ Raffa cut in.

The concern on his face surprised her. ‘I suppose... Anyway, they’ve been great.’ Massive understatement. ‘Tyr too—’ She stopped as the familiar ache washed over her.

‘Your brother will come home one day soon, Leila.’

‘You say that with such certainty. Have you heard from Tyr?’ There was excitement in her voice, but Raffa disappointed her by saying nothing. And why was she surprised? Leila and her sisters had always suspected that the three men in the consortium knew exactly where Tyr was, but none of them would reveal his whereabouts. The four men had been at school together, and then again in Special Forces, so their loyalties cut deep. But still, she had to try. ‘All I care about is that he’s safe, Raffa.’

Her heart lurched as she stared deep into eyes that held her gaze steadily.

‘Please don’t ask me questions about your brother, Leila, because I can’t tell you the answers you want to hear.’

‘You won’t tell me,’ she argued.

‘That’s right,’ Raffa agreed levelly. ‘I won’t.’

‘But perhaps you could tell me he’s safe?’

There was a long pause, and then Raffa said, ‘He’s safe.’

‘Thank you.’ Relief flooded through her as she sat back. Tyr was safe. That was all she needed to hear, and the thought that Raffa knew her brother so well made everything she’d heard about him pale into insignificance.

‘Tell me about your job at the museum, Leila.’

She relaxed. There was nothing she loved more than talking about her job. She enjoyed working at the museum so much she could talk about it endlessly. ‘It’s my passion—’ She didn’t need to try now. The words just came pouring out. ‘I’d love to show you round. It’s amazing. I wish you could see all the things we’ve found. To think my ancestors used them. And every day there’s a new discovery...’ She stopped in case she was boring him, but Raffa encouraged her to go on. And so it all came pouring out—her plans for the museum, her hopes and dreams for the future of the work she loved, her classes, her workshops, her tours, the exhibitions she had planned.

‘I am so sorry,’ she said at last. ‘I must have bored the socks off you. No one can stop me once I get talking about the museum.’

‘On the contrary, I don’t want to stop you,’ he insisted, ‘though it is a revelation to discover you’re not the quiet sister after all.’

‘I’m not quiet at all,’ she assured him.

No. Leila just needed the chance to be heard, he thought.

‘What are you doing?’ she said when he took the glass from her hand.

‘I think we should go to the party. Have you seen the time?’

‘No. Goodness me!’ she exclaimed, springing up. ‘I have been boring you!’

‘Not at all,’ he insisted. ‘Far from it. This evening has turned out far better than I anticipated, and we haven’t even reached the party yet.’

We?

She laughed as Raffa smiled back at her. Even if he was just being polite, she was having a great time. Raffa Leon was so much more than she had expected in every way. It was hard not to be attracted to him—impossible. Which was in itself crazy. Who invited trouble, unless they were completely mad?

She did, apparently.

‘So, are you completely recovered after your tumble?’ he said as he escorted her across the crowded lobby.

‘Completely,’ she confirmed. ‘And thank you for the drink. I feel ready for anything now.’

When Raffa laughed at this, she realised he must think her quaint and old-fashioned; sheltered, certainly.

‘If I were as honest as you, Leila, I would never have succeeded in business,’ he confided to her obvious alarm. ‘Meaning everything shows on your face,’ he was quick to explain when she frowned. ‘I’m not quite the big bad wolf I’m reported to be.’

‘But close.’ She laughed.

He laughed too. It was good to see Leila relaxed. And he wanted her to know he did have principles. He didn’t want her fretting about some rogue buying into her family business. Leila had certainly brought out the best in him. And that was a first.

‘And now to find your sisters,’ he said, realising that with any other attractive woman, finding her sisters would be the last thing on his mind.

‘Must we?’

* * *

Leila had spoken without thinking, he realised as her cheeks flushed red. She was enjoying being relaxed. She’d never been keen to join the pre-party scrum in Britt’s suite.

‘We don’t have to go up to Britt’s suite,’ he reassured her. ‘We can meet your sisters in the ballroom at our table. I’m looking forward to seeing the three of you together. Life is never boring with a Skavanga sister, so they tell me.’

‘They’re right,’ Leila admitted wryly. ‘Just your bad luck you got landed with me.’

‘Am I complaining?’

She flashed him a mischievous look, and as her mouth curved in a smile Leila’s eyes lit in a way that made him want to know more about this youngest Skavanga sister. It hit him out of nowhere that his grandmother would love her. His abuelita, as cute little grannies were known in Spain, was never off his case, always insisting he must find himself a good woman. He would do a lot of things for Abuelita, but not that, though his grandmother would put the bunting out if he brought a girl like Leila home.

And hadn’t Leila said she wanted to meet his grandmother?

He glanced at her, thinking the best thing about Leila was she had no idea how attractive she was, and in his world that was definitely a breath of fresh air.

They were halfway across the ballroom when she got a call on her phone. ‘Britt,’ she mouthed. As she pressed the receiver to her ear her cheeks turned scarlet. He gathered she wasn’t having the easiest of conversations with her sister.

‘She wanted to know where I was,’ Leila explained when she ended the call.

‘I hope you told her, living dangerously?’

‘With the big bad wolf? Yes, I did, as it happens.’

‘And your sister hit the roof?’

‘Pretty much.’

They shared an amused look.

‘Do you believe everything you’ve heard about me, Leila?’

For a moment she didn’t speak, but then she said quite bluntly, ‘I don’t know you well enough to pass judgement yet.’

He laughed at that. ‘When you do—you will let me know?’

‘I’ll make sure of it.’

She hadn’t told Raffa the whole truth about her conversation with Britt, who was clearly worried about her, and who had yelled in alarm at the prospect of her baby sister spending even one minute alone in the company of the notorious Raffa Leon. Worse luck, Raffa had turned out to be the perfect gentleman, though it might be fun to tease her sisters. It wasn’t often Leila caused comment.

‘You did reassure Britt?’ Raffa commented as they approached the table.

‘Actually, no,’ she admitted. ‘For once in my life, I was enigmatic. I was only having a bit of fun, but I couldn’t resist it. My sisters tease me constantly, so this was my chance to get them back.’

‘Well, I’m happy to go along with however you want to play it,’ Raffa assured her, his dark eyes glinting in a way that filled her mind with all sorts of outrageous possibilities.

‘I might take you up on that.’

‘Please do.’

His smile could travel to places she had forgotten about, in no time flat. ‘Then I will,’ she added with a smile and a shrug, thinking this evening was going to be fun.

‘Tonight will see Leila Skavanga come to the fore,’ Raffa promised as he held her chair.

‘But I don’t want to upset them,’ Leila was quick to add. ‘Britt has gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the party for Eva, and I don’t want anything to spoil Eva’s night.’

‘I promise you, it won’t,’ Raffa agreed, ‘not through anything I do, anyway, though there’s nothing to prevent us having a bit of fun. I just hope with all the Skavanga Diamonds glittering at once you don’t dazzle me into a stupor.’

‘No chance of that,’ Leila said, laughing at Raffa’s expression as she sat down.

Warmth flooded her as Raffa sat down in the next chair, close but not too close, almost touching but not touching, in a way that made her thighs tingle.

‘You can rely on me to back you up with enough smouldering looks and dirty dancing to shock your sisters out of their killer shoes.’

‘Wonderful.’ Did she mean to say that? Yes, she did. ‘That should make my home life a whole lot easier,’ she commented dryly.

‘Any time I can be of service...’

And this was a really bad time to be holding Raffa’s stare. His eyes were dancing with laughter, which told her nothing about his thoughts, but if this connection between them was only for tonight, it was the most fun she’d had in a long time. And now Britt and Eva had arrived in the ballroom on the arms of their handsome partners, bringing an end to their conversation as every head in the ballroom swivelled round.

‘Don’t look so worried, Leila,’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close. ‘I promise not to do anything that might upset them.’

Once she stared at Raffa it was hard to look away. ‘Something tells me Eva and Britt aren’t going to believe we’ve been sitting, chatting in the lounge all this time.’

And the truth was even more complicated than that, Leila realised. Both of them had touched on subjects she guessed neither of them would dream of discussing with a stranger, and the connection she’d sensed between them at first had grown stronger because of it.

‘You’ll just have to put up with your sisters’ suspicions,’ Raffa said pragmatically, leaning back as he prepared to stand to greet their dinner companions.

‘Just so long as we don’t take this too far,’ Leila agreed, already wondering what she’d got herself into as Raffa turned to bestow a lingering look on her face.

‘You and I know what went on.’

Precisely nothing, she thought as the most handsome man in the room went on to list their harmless pastimes. ‘You drank juice. We talked. We relaxed. But there’s no way on earth your sisters are going to believe that, so unless you’d rather pretend we haven’t been together every second since you arrived at the hotel—’

‘You make our innocent time together sound so bad.’

‘What fun would it be otherwise?’ he murmured.

She hummed as Raffa’s black gaze bored deep into hers.

‘Let the teasing begin,’ he said.

Had it already? she wondered as Raffa leaned in close. And was she the main target? If Britt and Eva had been suspicious before, seeing the two of them like this, so close they were practically kissing, would turn her sisters into tireless seekers after the truth. But she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was following the advice in her mother’s letter and being bold.

And even when Raffa smiled his slow, sexy smile, she asked herself, was it likely Britt and Eva would imagine she’d had hot monkey sex with Raffa Leon?

Absolutely not!

So what did she have to worry about?

She could relax.

Britt and Eva stared first at Raffa, and then at their sister. ‘Well,’ Britt said, smiling as they greeted her. ‘Here you are, Leila.’ She exchanged an arch-browed look with Eva.

‘I’m really sorry we missed the reception upstairs,’ Leila began, slipping easily back into the role of peacemaker, ‘but—’

‘But we got talking,’ Raffa intervened smoothly.

‘I’m sure you did,’ Eva agreed dryly.

‘We were in the lounge,’ Leila chipped in.

‘Of course you were,’ Britt agreed.

Raffa was right. They were never going to believe her. She glanced at him, only for Raffa to give her an amused and conspiratorial look. Let the teasing begin, he’d said. But let’s not overdo it, her eyes begged him as her sisters sat down. This was Eva’s special night, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.

Raffa returned her look with a reassuring expression. She’d never had a co-conspirator before. And it was quite incredible to think she belonged with such a party of swans, Leila mused as everyone started talking at once. Eva looked off-the-scale stunning, with her long, flame-red hair caught back on either side of her beautiful face with glittering diamond combs, her fabulous figure displayed in a floor-length, body-hugging gown of flesh-coloured lace, embellished with tiny crystals. And the heat flying between Eva and Count Roman Quisvada, the man she would marry tomorrow, was off the scale.

Would a man ever look at her that way? Leila wondered as she turned her attention to Britt, whose husband, Sheikh Sharif, was currently shooting intensely personal messages into his wife’s eyes. With her icy Nordic looks, imposing height and slender figure, Britt was the perfect foil for her Arabian prince, and there was such closeness between them, Leila couldn’t help but feel wistful.

There was such an overload of glamour at their table they were the focus of the room. Three amazing-looking men, two fabulous-looking women...and Leila. Her sisters set a standard she couldn’t hope to compete with, but for one night, with Raffa at her side, she was going to give it a shot.

‘Would you like me to help you choose from the menu, Leila?’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close.

Britt and Eva were instantly on alert, but she felt obliged to point out, ‘It’s a fixed menu.’

‘So it is,’ Raffa agreed, not losing eye contact with her for a moment.

It was going to be hard remembering this was just pretence, but a glance at her sisters reassured her they were convinced.

‘Would you like me to read the menu out to you?’ Raffa now suggested.

‘Yes, please,’ she said, sitting back with the air of a woman for whom men peeled grapes.

Britt and Eva had designed the menu between them and Leila soon realised that her sisters had chosen food which was impossible to eat without appearing provocative—a look Leila was keen to avoid tonight, even if her intention was to tease them, as she had to balance the game with not taking things too far with Raffa.

The appetiser was a small baked cheese drizzled with truffle oil on a bed of salad leaves...

‘Don’t you like cheese, Leila?’

As Raffa asked the question Britt and Eva stared at her. She loved cheese and they knew it. Britt had probably designed this first course with Leila’s preferences in mind. But the thought of all that soft, warm cheese glistening on her lips—

‘Shall we swap plates?’ Raffa suggested.

She lifted the plate. He reached for it, and their fingers touched. Heat exploded inside her. Her gasp could probably be heard in the car park.

‘I love a man with a healthy appetite,’ Britt commented, flashing a look at Eva.

‘What’s the matter, baby sister?’ Eva contributed, picking up the virtual ball Britt had just lobbed across the net. ‘Not enough hot food for you around this table?’

‘I’ve got an enormous appetite,’ Raffa confessed with every appearance of innocence. ‘If any of you don’t want your food, please pass it my way.’

The other men registered small smiles at this, while Britt and Eva exchanged a knowing look.

Okay. She got it. Leila was Little Red Riding Hood paired with the big bad wolf for the night. She gave her sisters a warning look, but they just smiled and raised a brow. As long as she could handle it, they were okay with it. Now she just had to watch out that the joke didn’t end up on her.

The next course was asparagus, which was possibly Leila’s favourite food, but the way Eva was sucking the butter off the tip...

‘I can’t believe you’re not eating this,’ Raffa scolded when she again offered to exchange her plate with him, but his eyes were laughing, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

‘I don’t want to risk butter dripping down my dress.’ She raised a brow at him, conscious that her sisters were watching them closely. ‘This dress has been through enough adventures for one night, don’t you agree, Raffa?’

As Britt and Eva exchanged a look, Leila appeared to change her mind, and, lifting a buttery spear to her lips, she sucked on it thoughtfully.

‘Here—have another one if you’re hungry,’ he prompted in a way that made her breath catch.

Her sisters were transfixed by now, while the look in Raffa’s eyes wasn’t doing all that much for her own equilibrium. It was just an act, she told herself, until he captured some butter from her lips on his thumb and sucked it clean. She felt an answering pulse of pleasure with each lazy tug of his mouth. It was such a sexy, intimate thing for him to do.

And she should look away.

When it came to the entrée, a black pepper filet mignon with a blob of Gorgonzola on top, resting on a bed of wilted spinach, she was still watching Raffa eat.

‘Hmm, delicious,’ he murmured, savouring the delicious meat. ‘Why aren’t you eating, Leila?’

‘It’s chocolate fondue for pudding,’ Britt remarked innocently.

Okay, there was no leaving this game half played. ‘Chocolate fondue?’ She gazed deep into Raffa’s eyes. ‘My favourite...’

As Raffa paused, fork suspended, she tucked in with relish. This was easy. Where had she been hiding all these years?

‘Leila.’

Why was Raffa whispering?

She turned to look at him with confidence. ‘Yes? What is it? What’s wrong?’

She prickled with awareness as he leaned in close.

‘You’ve got spinach between your teeth...’