Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure. Carole Mortimer

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      Well, she wasn’t now and she wouldn’t let him get away with it.

      ‘And obviously ignored,’ she snapped. ‘Rafe, I have absolutely no idea what your arrangement was with Margo and Jeff.’ But she certainly intended finding out when she telephoned her sister shortly! ‘But as they’re obviously still in England, there is no way you can expect to continue with your own plans to stay here.’

      He quirked dark brows. ‘And just where would you suggest I go instead?’

      The hardness in his eyes told her she’d do better to hold back on the reply that she really wanted to make. So instead, Cairo replied, ‘To a hotel, of course.’

      ‘You really expect me to be able to do that in the week of the Cannes Film Festival?’ he taunted.

      ‘I— The Cannes Film Festival?’ she repeated slowly.

      ‘It’s the reason I’m in France at the moment,’ Rafe explained. ‘Work of Art has been put up for several awards.’ He shrugged. ‘As director, I’m expected to make an appearance.’

      The Cannes Film Festival, Cairo berated herself in her head. Of course Rafe’s film had been nominated for an award; it had virtually wiped the board at the Oscars earlier in the year.

      ‘But Cannes is miles away,’ she said stubbornly.

      ‘So?’

      ‘So there must be a hotel there where you could stay. It would be much more convenient than being all the way out here, anyway,’ Cairo reasoned firmly.

      Rafe’s mouth tightened. ‘I’m sure it’s very kind of you to attempt to rearrange my plans for me in this way, Cairo,’ he bit out sarcastically. ‘But I’ve been travelling for hours now, and certainly have no intention of discussing this any further until I’ve at least taken a swim. What do you say, Daisy-May, shall the two of us go for a swim?’ He smiled affectionately at the little girl as she gave an excited squeal of approval. ‘It would appear you’re outnumbered and outgunned, Cairo,’ Rafe drawled as he put Daisy down on the tarmacked drive and she instantly took hold of his hand to begin pulling him down towards the swimming pool on the lower terrace.

      ‘But—’

      ‘Outnumbered and outgunned,’ Rafe repeated softly as he released his hand from Daisy’s to begin pulling his polo shirt over his head, revealing a broad golden expanse of naked chest and shoulders.

      Cairo’s mouth went dry and her breath caught in her throat as she found herself unable to look away from the sight of Rafe slowly peeling the shirt from his body.

      Eight years ago, she had been intimately familiar with every hard, muscled, beautiful inch of Rafe’s body, from those wide shoulders, across that muscled chest and flat stomach and down to thrusting thighs.

      The time since then had only honed that body, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his muscled torso. Rafe’s dark hair rested rakishly on his shoulders as he looked across at her with challenging blue eyes. He looked every inch a Spanish conquistador with that mocking smile playing about those chiselled lips. He seemed fully aware that he had rendered Cairo momentarily speechless.

      The bastard. He had done that on purpose. Had deliberately—

      ‘Rafe!’ she gasped as his hand moved with slow deliberation to unfasten the top button of his denims and slowly slide down the zip.

      He arched mocking brows. ‘Something wrong, Cairo?’ he taunted.

      Something was very wrong!

      Eight years ago, the two of them hadn’t exactly parted the best of friends. In fact, the two of them hadn’t seen or spoken to each other again in all that time.

      But just to look at him now made Cairo feel breathless, her face hot and flushed. No, all of her felt hot and flushed as she found herself unable to look away from those unfastened denims and the deep V of dark hair that disappeared beneath them.

      She moistened dry lips. ‘Daisy, would you pop into the villa and get us some lemonade to drink by the pool?’ She gave her niece what she hoped was a reassuring smile; the muscles in her face didn’t seem to be working properly!

      ‘You won’t be long, Uncle Rafe?’ Daisy paused to ask wistfully.

      ‘Two minutes, Daisy-May,’ he promised huskily.

      There it was again. That gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right about this situation.

      And Cairo knew exactly what it was!

      Uncle Rafe.

      Daisy-May.

      It was obvious from Rafe’s arrival that Margo and Jeff had kept up their friendship with him, but for how long and how well did Daisy know Rafe that the affection between them was so obvious and the little girl addressed him by the honorary title of ‘Uncle’?

      And only the family and really close friends ever called Daisy by the affectionate Daisy-May…

      Admittedly Cairo had lived mainly in America the last eight years, her visits home infrequent to say the least, but still she would have thought that she would at least have had some idea that her sister and brother-in-law had remained such close friends with Rafe all this time.

      Rafe could almost see the disagreeable thoughts racing through Cairo’s head. She was undoubtedly annoyed with Margo and Jeff for putting her in this position in the first place.

      He could only guess as to the other couple’s motives for their actions; Margo and Jeff had never made any secret of the fact that they regretted that he and Cairo had parted eight years ago.

      That they ‘had parted’! Such simple words to describe such a catastrophic event.

      Their last meeting had consisted of a pretty one-sided conversation as Cairo had told him their relationship was over, followed three days later by the announcement of her engagement to Lionel Bond.

      A marriage that had now also come to an end.

      But Margo and Jeff were whistling in the wind if they thought that little fact was going to make any difference to how Rafe and Cairo felt about each other. Although her obvious determination now to see him leave only made Rafe stubbornly want to do the opposite!

      ‘Lemonade, Cairo?’ he commented with a grimace. ‘My own preference would have been a glass of wine on the terrace while we gazed out at the view down the valley to the bay of Cannes.’

      She glared at him. ‘We aren’t going to be gazing out at anything together, Rafe,’ she snapped. ‘In fact—’

      ‘I said let’s save the explanations until later, Cairo,’ he reminded her forcefully. ‘For the moment I intend taking a swim with Daisy.’ To prove his point he deliberately slid the zip on his denims the rest of the way before slowly pushing the heavy material down his thighs.

      And watched as Cairo’s eyes widened, and then widened even more as she realized his intent, her protest only dying on her lips as she saw that Rafe actually wore black swimming trunks beneath the jeans he had now completely removed.

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