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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СКАЧАТЬ goodness’ sake, relax, Cairo.’ Rafe finally sighed into the tense silence.

      How was she supposed to do that when Rafe was in her flat?

      This was her space, the first place she could completely call her own for over eight years. And Rafe’s presence was a definite intrusion on that solitude.

      ‘Nice view.’

      Cairo almost dropped her glass of wine at the close proximity of Rafe’s voice, turning to glare at him as he stood beside her, his tread having been so soft on the carpet she hadn’t realized he had joined her in front of the window. ‘I like it,’ she snapped irritably.

      ‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be drinking on a relatively empty stomach,’ Rafe commented; Cairo hadn’t eaten any breakfast at all, and only a sandwich for lunch.

      ‘The wine was your idea—’

      ‘For you to offer me a glass,’ he corrected. ‘You know what happens if you drink wine and you haven’t had enough to eat,’ he reminded her huskily.

      ‘I know what happened once, Rafe. Just once,’ she reiterated firmly, the blush on her cheeks telling him she remembered the incident only too well.

      ‘Hmm.’

      ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ she challenged.

      Rafe had forgotten what fun it was to tease Cairo. How she got that light of battle in her eyes. The angry blush to her cheeks. Her mouth set in that stubborn line.

      He took the remaining half-glass of wine from her fingers and placed it on a bookshelf with his own. ‘Come out to dinner with me tonight, Cairo,’ he invited gruffly.

      She blinked up at him uncertainly. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’ she breathed huskily, but with much less conviction in her voice.

      Rafe held her gaze with his as he gave her a quizzical smile. ‘Because I’m a stranger in town—’

      ‘You’re Rafe Montero—you could ask any woman to have dinner with you and she would drop anything else she had planned just to be there!’

      ‘The one I’m asking right now doesn’t have anything else planned—and yet she’s refusing.’

      ‘Rafe—’

      ‘Cairo?’

      ‘You really are—’ She broke off frustratedly. ‘Why do you want me to have dinner with you?’

      He shrugged. ‘Because we both have to eat this evening and we may as well do it together.’

      She shook her head. ‘If you think, because of what happened last night, that I’m going to sleep with you later, then—’

      ‘Cairo, the invitation was for dinner, not bed,’ he cut in firmly.

      ‘Yes …’ She eyed him suspiciously.

      ‘Although I doubt I would be averse to the idea later on if you were to—’

      ‘I won’t!’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘Then I guess I’ll settle for dinner.’

      She sighed. ‘Okay, Rafe, I’ll come out to dinner with you. But only,’ she continued as he would have smiled, ‘if you promise me never to mention that embarrassing incident with the wine ever again.’

      ‘You mean, the incident where you threw off all your clothes and—’

      ‘Yes—that incident!’ she glared.

      ‘Fine.’ It was difficult for Rafe to hold the smile back this time. ‘I promise I’ll never—ever—mention that night we had dinner in my hotel room eight years ago and you stripped off and tipped cream all over your—well, all over you—and then offered yourself as dessert—’ He broke off, laughing now when Cairo began to pummel his chest with her fists, and was still grinning even as he held both her hands in his. ‘It was the best dessert I ever had,’ he told her throatily.

      It was very hard to remain annoyed with him when he gave her that heart-melting smile, Cairo thought in despair. Especially when she also remembered the night in question—how could she ever forget it? It was the most wildly erotic night….

      Which meant it also wasn’t a good idea to let Rafe continue to hold her hands in his. Or to look into those sky-blue eyes that seduced her with only a glance. Or to allow him to draw her, slowly, purposefully, towards him—

      ‘No, Rafe!’ She broke that seductive spell as she straightened away from him, pulling her hands out of his grasp as she did so. ‘I said dinner and I meant just dinner!’

      ‘Pity,’ he murmured lazily.

      She gave him a reproving look. ‘If you would like to sit here and finish your wine, I just need to go to my room to freshen up before we go out.’

      Although she’d agreed to the lesser of two evils—going out to a restaurant with Rafe rather than having him stay on here—it still wasn’t a good idea, Cairo told herself as she shut her bedroom door firmly behind her and leant back against it.

      What game was Rafe playing now?

      Whatever it was, she couldn’t allow it to continue!

      ‘How on earth did you manage to get a table here at such short notice— No, don’t tell me.’ Cairo gave a wry smile. ‘You’re Rafe Montero.’

      Rafe studied her across the table in what was a very exclusive London restaurant. ‘I really wish you wouldn’t say my name as if it’s some sort of expletive,’ he drawled ruefully. ‘Besides,’ he continued lightly, ‘there has to be some compensation to losing every vestige of your privacy just because you chose acting as a career.’

      Cairo gave him a considering look, coolly beautiful in the green figure-hugging, knee-length dress she had changed into after freshening-up, her red hair long and silky. ‘I never realized it bothered you.’

      He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t a problem when we were on the Isle of Man. Since the film studio opened up there in the late nineties the islanders have become used to celebrities walking down Strand Street, and they pretty well take it in their stride. Most other places it can be a problem, though. That’s the reason exclusive restaurants like this one are so popular with people like you and me. Everyone’s a celebrity, so no one stares.’

      No, Cairo acknowledged, no one was staring. Now. But the two of them had caused quite a stir when they’d arrived together half an hour ago, probably because of all the publicity about them in the English newspapers this morning….

      Rafe gave her a quizzical glance. ‘Do you ever regret becoming so well known?’

      Did she? She could quite well have done without all the publicity that had surrounded her separation and divorce the last ten months. But otherwise …? No, probably not.

      ‘It goes with the job, I suppose,’ she said, before taking a sip of the pink champagne Rafe СКАЧАТЬ