Hot Nights with a Spaniard: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure / Spanish Aristocrat, Forced Bride / Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge. India Grey

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      ‘For obvious reasons I have to go down into Cannes this evening,’ he told Cairo as the two of them put the shopping away while Daisy collected her swimming things from her bedroom.

      ‘Fine,’ Cairo accepted without interest as she continued to put cereals away in a cupboard.

      ‘You and Daisy can come with me if you like?’ Rafe heard himself offer—in complete contradiction to his thoughts of a few minutes ago …

      His only excuse was that Cairo’s complete lack of interest in his plans for this evening had annoyed the hell out of him!

      Cairo stiffened before slowly turning to face Rafe. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’ she prompted incredulously while inwardly shying away from the thought of going anywhere near all that glitzy artificiality again after she had so enjoyed avoiding it the last ten months.

      As Rafe had pointed out earlier, she had attended numerous award ceremonies with Lionel over the years, both as an actress in her own right and as Lionel’s wife, had even been nominated for and won an Oscar herself three years ago.

      Which meant Cairo knew exactly what the party in Cannes this evening would be like, everyone really there to see and be seen rather than to actually meet up and chat with old friends and just enjoy themselves.

      Rafe leant back against one of the kitchen units to study her through narrowed lids. ‘You haven’t worked in almost a year, Cairo.’

      She blinked. ‘Sorry?’

      His mouth thinned. ‘You haven’t made a film in over ten months.’

      ‘So?’

      ‘So, as I pointed out yesterday, the world of acting is a fickle one.’ He shrugged. ‘Too long out of the limelight, and the industry, as well as the public, tends to forget you exist.’

      ‘Your point being?’

      He frowned. ‘My point being, you need to get back to work!’

      Cairo gave a humourless laugh. ‘As I told you yesterday, I really don’t see what business it is of yours—’

      ‘You can’t hide away for the rest of your life, Cairo,’ he pointed out.

      Her eyes widened. ‘I’m not hiding—’

      ‘What else would you call it?’ he attacked her impatiently. ‘You’re staying in a villa miles from anywhere, and you wear sunglasses and a baseball cap to disguise your appearance when you do go out. I’d call that hiding, wouldn’t you, Cairo?’

      ‘No,’ she bit out. ‘What I would call it is taking a well-earned holiday after years of constantly working my—’ She stopped and drew in a controlling breath. ‘I can’t remember the last time I was able to just relax and lie in the sun.’

      ‘You’ll freckle, remember?’ he taunted.

      ‘I’ll risk it!’ she snapped. ‘And I really don’t see what any of this has to do with my not wanting to come to a party in Cannes with you this evening.’

      ‘There will be directors there. Producers, too. The people who will give you your next job, Cairo,’ Rafe explained patiently as she made no response.

      ‘I don’t need anyone to give me my next job, Rafe,’ she assured him.

      He studied her carefully. ‘You already know what you’re going to work on next, don’t you?’

      Cairo gave a mocking inclination of her head. ‘Yes, Rafe, I already know what I’m going to work on next.’

      ‘Which is?’

      ‘None of your business!’

      ‘Are the two of you arguing?’ Daisy asked from the kitchen doorway, her expression curious rather than concerned.

      ‘Of course not, poppet,’ Cairo hastened to reassure her. ‘Uncle Rafe and I were just—having a discussion about something unimportant.’ She shot Rafe a warning glance.

      ‘Oh.’ Daisy nodded. ‘Because Mummy and Daddy always kiss and make up when they have an argument.’

      Cairo snorted at the thought of her and Rafe ever being able to ‘kiss and make up’. There was simply too much history between them for them ever to be able to do that!

      A sentiment Rafe obviously agreed with as he answered the little girl. ‘As Aunty Cairo said, Daisy, we weren’t arguing,’ he said dryly. ‘So, who’s hungry?’ he added enticingly, Daisy’s shout of agreement completely overshadowing the fact that Cairo said nothing.

      She was too irritated with Rafe to speak, that was why!

      She had spent years being persuaded, cajoled and pushed by Lionel into taking one film role after another, usually for his production company, of course, and she wasn’t about to be railroaded by anyone else—least of all the arrogant Rafe Montero—into doing anything, or going anywhere, she didn’t want to go.

      She certainly wasn’t going to allow Rafe to goad her into going to Cannes with him this evening!

      But he seemed no more interested in pursuing the subject as they found a place to park in Grasse before walking through to the shops and restaurants. In fact—thankfully!—Rafe seemed decidedly distracted again, leaving Cairo to enjoy the aromas and atmosphere of the town whose main industry was its wonderful perfumes.

      Rafe hadn’t been being paranoid earlier about the blue car and its driver …

      He was pretty sure of it now, the little blue car having come out of a side road as Rafe drove down from the villa and out onto the main road. It had then stayed a two-car distance behind them on the drive to Grasse, and followed them into the same car park once they got into the town. Although the driver, definitely the same man as before, noticing Rafe’s narrow-eyed interest across the car park as he got out of the blue car, had quickly locked the doors before disappearing in the opposite direction to the one Rafe, Cairo and Daisy took.

      Admittedly Rafe hadn’t seen the man since, but a sixth sense, a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, told him that the man was still around somewhere.

      Was he just an avid movie fan who had maybe recognized Rafe when he arrived at the supermarket?

      Or—worse!—a reporter?

      Several people had given Rafe a second glance as the three of them strolled through the busy streets of Grasse, as if they thought they recognized him, only to look at Cairo and Daisy and decide they must be mistaken; Rafe Montero wasn’t married, let alone father to a six-year-old girl.

      But the man in the blue car seemed more dogged than that, and he had obviously been waiting at the bottom of the access road in the hopes of being able to follow the next time Rafe left the villa.

      Or Cairo did….

      Rafe gave her a frowning glance. She was still wearing the baseball cap and dark sunglasses, but otherwise seemed relaxed, and was obviously enjoying herself as she and Daisy looked at scented candles as a present to take home СКАЧАТЬ