'Rubbish!' she said dismissively. 'I wasn't doing any harm. I simply walked along the lane, peered through the gates, and then began to walk back again. No one's going to prosecute me for that!'
'You don't know these people.'
'And you do?' Curiosity was now beginning to replace the anger in her voice.
Rafe seemed to realise that she was beginning to back him into a corner. 'Whether I do or not, it's nothing to do with you,' he said irritably.
'No? I was the one who was flung to the ground,' she reminded him sharply. 'And I was the one who was scared half to death. I think I deserve some kind of explanation.'
He scowled at her. 'I've already given you one.'
'No, you haven't,' she flashed back immediately. 'You've not even begun to tell me what you're really doing here.'
'I've told you everything that you need to know.' He caught hold of her elbow and steered her towards the road. 'Let's get back to the villa. There's not much point in hanging around here any longer.'
Kate allowed him to hustle her along, but at the same time she stared at him suspiciously. 'You know what I think?' she challenged. 'You're not here on holiday at all. You're on a job—something to do with your enquiry agency. And I reckon it's all tied up with the people who live in that villa behind the locked gates.'
'Don't ask any more questions, Kate,' he advised grimly. 'And don't try to get mixed up in it. In fact, why don't you just pack your things and head back home to England, where you belong?'
But nothing on earth would have persuaded Kate to do that, not now. She didn't ask any more questions out loud, but that didn't mean there weren't dozens of them buzzing around inside her head. And, one way or another, she was totally determined to get to the bottom of this.
Kate didn't sleep well that night, and woke up the next morning to another scorchingly hot day. She had a slight headache, and she padded over to the window, opened it, and leant out. The fresh air made her feel better almost immediately, and she gave a faint sigh of satisfaction. Despite all the hassle with Rafe, she loved it here, and she was really looking forward to the rest of the summer.
Then she let out a snort of annoyance as she saw Rafe coming up the path that led from the beach. Trust him to turn up and ruin a perfectly good morning!
He glanced up and saw her, and then aimed an unexpectedly lazy smile in her direction. Kate didn't return it, though. Instead, she was a little horrified to find herself wondering what—if anything!—he was wearing beneath the towel that was casually hooked around his waist.
This man is provoking you into perverted thoughts! she lectured herself sternly. He's definitely a bad influence, Kate. You ought to stay away from him.
The only trouble was, that wasn't particularly easy when they were both living under the same roof. If anyone was going to move out, then it was pretty obvious that it would have to be her. Kate had already decided that she was staying, though. Rafe was up to something—perhaps even something not very legal— and she intended to find out what it was.
He was still grinning at her, as if the events of yesterday hadn't even happened. 'If you'd woken up a little earlier, you could have joined me for a swim,' he called up.
'Thanks, but that's one experience I'm happy to do without,' she retorted. 'There are certain sights that are guaranteed to put you right off your breakfast!'
Rafe casually slid the towel from around his waist. 'I'm wearing swimming-trunks this morning,' he informed her with gentle mockery. 'I didn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities. In fact, if you stay much longer, I might even end up wearing pyjamas to bed at night.'
'Don't bother on my account,' she batted back at him. 'You can walk around clothed from head to toe, or stark naked. Either way, it doesn't worry me in the least.'
'Then why did you go that rather odd colour just now, when I removed the towel?' enquired Rafe with interest.
'I did not!' Kate retorted hotly. 'And stop laughing at me.'
She slammed the window shut so that she wouldn't have to see his grinning face or put up with any more of those sly comments that so got under her skin.
'I hope a few sharks turn up next time he goes swimming!' she muttered under her breath. Then she headed off to the shower in a thoroughly bad temper.
When she finally made her way downstairs, there was no sign of Rafe. She fed the cats, had her own breakfast, and was just about to wander out on to the terrace with a cup of coffee when the phone rang.
For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Then she gave a small sigh, put down her coffee, walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver.
A smile spread over her face as she heard her father's voice at the other end, and she was glad she had answered it. His familiar tones made her realise that she was, in fact, just a little bit homesick.
'I don't have to be at the office until later this morning, so I thought I'd give you a quick ring. How's it going, Kate?'
'Fine,' she replied, rather too brightly. 'The weather's still gorgeous, the villa's marvellous, and I'm having a really good time.'
'Is Rafe still there?'
'Yes, he is,' she said, her voice more guarded now.
'And is he having a good time, as well?'
'I suppose so—at least, as far as I know. We don't have a great deal of contact.' That wasn't the exact truth, but she didn't want her father to worry about her. Anyway, it all depended on how you defined the word 'contact'. Being slung over Rafe's shoulder, or hauled into the bushes and then having him dive on top of you was certainly contact of a sort! She didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her father about those particular episodes, though.
'Are you going to stay at the villa for the rest of the summer?' asked her father. 'We miss having you around.'
'And I miss you,' Kate admitted. 'But I think it's high time I learnt to stand on my own two feet.'
'Well, don't forget that we're here if you need us. By the way, here's your mother. I think she wants a word with you.' His voice lowered a fraction. 'Kate, I'm afraid I mentioned that—'
He obviously didn't get a chance to finish what he had been about to say, because the next voice Kate heard was her mother's.
'Kate? Is it true that Rafe's staying at the villa with you?' she demanded.
Kate let out a silent sigh. She should have remembered that her father found it very hard to keep secrets from her mother.
'Well—in a way—yes,' she confirmed cautiously.
'You're to come home at once!' her mother instructed. 'I don't want any daughter of mine staying under the same roof as that man.'
'There's absolutely nothing to worry about,' Kate said very firmly.
Her mother gave a disbelieving snort. 'Of course there is! You need to be twice your age and three times as experienced to cope with someone like Rafe.'
'How can you say that, when you don't really know him?' Kate asked a little impatiently.
'I know about him.'
'That's just gossip. I don't suppose half of it's true.'
'Well, if even a fraction of it is true, that's enough for me!' came her mother's instant reply. 'You're to get a flight back home as soon as you can.'
But Kate had spent much of her life automatically obeying her mother, and she had decided that it had to stop. She loved her mother, but recognised that there was a domineering side to her character. Kate had accepted it, and all too often given in to it—as her father did—for the sake of a quiet life. She was twenty-two years old now, though, and it was definitely time she took charge of her own life.
'I'm staying right here,' she announced firmly. 'Rafe isn't a problem, and even if he were I'd be able to handle him.' Which might not be strictly the truth, but Kate wasn't going to admit that to anyone except herself.
'I'm sorry, Kate, but it's just not on,' argued her mother. 'I insist that you come back home.'
'Mum, I'm not a kid any more,' Kate reminded her, although not unkindly. 'You can't insist that I do anything.'
There was a short silence from the other end of the phone, as if that statement hadn't gone down at all well.
'Headstrong,' came her mother's resigned comment, at last. 'It's the Clarendon blood coming out in you. You get it from your father, of course. What a pity you didn't take after my side of the family.'
Kate heard the front door of the villa opening, and she lowered her voice a fraction. 'Look, I've got to go. Someone's just come in—'
'Is it Rafe?' demanded her mother. 'I want to speak to him, Kate. There are quite a few things I want to say to that man—'
'He's—he's already gone upstairs,' Kate lied hastily. 'Must go, Mum. Love to all, and I'll ring you in a couple of days.'
She hastily put down the receiver before her mother could get out another word. Rafe strolled over, and looked at her enquiringly.
'It was my mother on the phone,' Kate explained. 'She—she sends you her regards.'
Rafe's eyebrows shot up in clear disbelief. 'Her regards?' he echoed.
'Well—that might not have been the exact word she used,' admitted Kate.
'I'm sure it wasn't,' he said drily. 'Your mother seems to think I'm some sort of cross between Casanova and Bluebeard.'
'A virgin for breakfast every morning?' suggested Kate, with a grin.
'Something like that.'
'But that's a bit of an exaggeration?'
'Life's rarely that exciting.' He glanced at his watch. 'I'm going out now, and I probably won't be back for the rest of the day. Will you be all right here, on your own?'
'Of course I'll be all right,' she said, a little impatiently. 'I told you before, I'm not a child. I don't need you around to hold my hand.'
His gaze slid appreciatively over her. 'No, you're certainly not a child,' he agreed, and something in his tone made the fine hairs on Kate's skin stand right up on end.
She raised her head and glared at him, annoyed that he could provoke this sort of reaction from her. 'And where exactly are you going?' she demanded. 'No, don't tell me. Let me guess. You're going to spend the day spying on those people at the villa.'
Rafe's eyes grew very cool. 'I warned you yesterday not to ask any more questions. Don't cross me about this, Kate, or you might not like the consequences.'
He turned round and strode out before she had a chance to say another word. Kate scowled at his retreating back. His moods changed faster than the English weather!
True to his word, he didn't come back to the Villa des Anges until late in the day. He stayed just long enough to have a quick meal, and then went straight out again. This time, Kate didn't even bother to ask him where he was going. If she wanted to find out what he was up to, she knew that she was going to have to be a lot more subtle about it.
When she finally took herself off to bed, Rafe still hadn't returned. Because she had had a restless night the night before, she was tired and fell asleep fairly quickly. A couple of hours later, though, she surfaced back into wakefulness. As she lay there in the darkness, she licked her lips. Her mouth felt dry, and she was longing for a drink.
Since she didn't feel in the least sleepy any more, she hauled herself out of bed and padded downstairs, the floor deliciously cool against her bare feet. She made her way to the kitchen, drank some fruit juice, and then glanced at her watch. It was two in the morning. Kate wrinkled her nose. She still felt wide awake, but she supposed she had better go back to bed and try to get some sleep. She flicked off the light, made her way through the dark hall, and had just reached the foot of the stairs when the lock on the front door suddenly clicked. Then the door itself swung open. Kate immediately gulped. A burglar? she asked herself shakily. Then she relaxed again. A burglar would hardly be letting himself in with a key!
There was a small lamp on the table at the foot of the stairs. Kate reached over and switched it on; then she looked up again to find that Rafe had just walked in through the door.
He was wearing dark jeans and a black sweatshirt, and looked extremely tired. Kate didn't feel in the least sorry for him, though. Whatever he had been up to, she was sure it was something underhand. It served him right if he was nearly asleep on his feet.
When Rafe saw her standing there, one dark eyebrow lifted speculatively.
'You're up late,' he commented.
'And you're in late,' she shot back meaningfully.
'Yes, I am,' he agreed, stifling a yawn. 'And I didn't expect to find you waiting up for me.' His eyes suddenly glinted. 'Are you waiting up for me, Kate?' he queried with some interest.
'No, I am not!' she denied vehemently.
'That's a shame. I'm definitely in the mood for some female company right now. And I happen to like women who are dark-haired, dark-eyed and bad-tempered.' His sleepy voice had taken on an unexpectedly silky note, and Kate was instantly on her guard.
'I'm not bad-tempered!' she snapped back at him. 'At least, not usually,' she said, a little more defensively. 'It's just that you get right under my skin a lot of the time!'
'That sounds like a very pleasant place to be,' he murmured. Then he gave an enormous yawn. 'Hell, I'm tired. That's probably why I'm waffling on like this. I often talk nonsense when I'm tired.'
Kate relaxed just a fraction. 'So do I. And don't worry, I'm not taking much notice. I know you're not being serious. I mean, you wouldn't want to—want…'
Her voice trailed away rather uncertainly as Rafe's eyes suddenly looked very much less sleepy than they had a moment ago.
'Wouldn't want to what?' he questioned her softly. 'Kiss you, perhaps? But I rather think that I would, Kate.'
'Just cut that out,' she said edgily. Then her curiosity got the better of her. 'Why on earth do you like women who are bad-tempered?' she couldn't help asking.
Rafe grinned. 'It just makes things more interesting. I've never liked a quiet life. And I certainly wouldn't want to live with someone who was passive and amenable all the time. I'd be bored to death in a week.' Then his dark eyes suddenly flared again. 'I'm beginning to think that you wouldn't bore me, Kate,' he added softly.
Kate took an involuntary step backwards. 'You're starting to talk nonsense again,' she warned him.
'Am I? But don't you think it might be nice to try it for a couple of minutes?' he said persuasively. 'You might even find that you enjoy it.'
The sheer arrogance of the man infuriated her. What did he think she was going to do? Swoon with delight as soon as he got her into his arms?
'I don't intend to give you a couple of seconds, let alone a couple of minutes,' she informed him tartly. 'And if you'd just get out of my way, I'd like to go up to—' she nearly said 'bed', but at the last moment hurriedly altered it '—to my room,' she finished, glaring at him.
To her surprise, he immediately stepped aside, leaving her a clear passage up the stairs. Kate's muscles sagged with relief. Until that moment, she hadn't realised just how tense she had become, waiting to see what move Rafe was going to make next.
Somehow, she restrained the urge to scuttle past him. She definitely didn't want him to think she was frightened of him! Instead, she went up the first couple of stairs at a steady pace, with her nose held high in the air. She would simply ignore him. That was the best way—probably the only way—to deal with someone like Rafe.
She thought she had got away with it. She had gone past him now, and the empty stairway stretched ahead of her. If only she could bound up it, she thought regretfully, then she put that tempting thought to one side. Retreat with a little dignity! she told herself. At the same time, she released a silent sigh of relief. This wasn't turning out as bad as she had thought it would be.
An instant later, though, Rafe's arm snaked out and curled round her waist. Then he pulled her backwards, so that she tumbled towards him. He deftly caught her, and restored her balance. Then he easily fielded her fist, which she had instinctively aimed straight towards his jaw. His fingers closed round it, holding her entire arm immobile, and he shot a reproving look at her.
'That's not a
wise thing to do, Kate. Some men are turned on by that sort of aggressiveness. Luckily for you, I'm not one of them.'
'Oh, sure, I'm a really lucky girl,' she agreed sarcastically. 'Stuck here with you, in the middle of the night! Well, if you're not turned on, I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of me!'
'Oh, I didn't say I wasn't turned on,' he responded in a soft tone that sent shivers from the top to the very bottom of her spine. 'And I think I'd rather like that kiss I wanted earlier.'
His mouth smoothly closed over hers before she could get out the very vociferous protest that she had intended. Kate gurgled incoherently, and was then forced to concentrate solely on trying to breathe. Her brows began to draw together a little frantically. Didn't the wretched man realise that he was suffocating her?
Apparently he did, because his kiss eased off a little. Oxygen rushed into Kate's lungs, and she slumped with relief. Another few seconds of that, and she might have blacked out!
Rafe still hadn't let go of her, though. In fact, if anything his grip had tightened a fraction. And his fingers were playing subtle rhythms against the line of her spine. She didn't like that. At least, she didn't think she did. It made her nerve-ends tingle in a way that was half pleasant and half disturbing.
'Stop it,' she mumbled.
'Stop what?' enquired Rafe, a little breathlessly.
'Everything!' she retorted.
'Wasn't there one single thing that you enjoyed? That you'd like to do again?' he said persuasively.
'No!' she lied.
'Then perhaps I'd better try something else.' His dark gaze seemed to have become quite black. 'I never like to admit defeat.'
His fingers slid under her hair, finally finding the warm, vulnerable skin at the nape of her neck. They traced delicate patterns there for a while, and Kate was horrified to find that she was actually beginning to relax. With a huge effort, she forced her muscles to tense up again.
'Why do that?' murmured Rafe. 'You're only spoiling it.'
'How can you spoil something that was never all that great in the first place?' she demanded.
'That's because you won't let it be great. Like it or not, Kate, we could be very good together.'
Devil in Paradise Page 5