As she prepared for bed, having overruled the general opinion that she should stay with the guests, she mused about the recent events. Sleep evaded her. To quiet her racing thoughts, she took another shower. The hot water stung her smooth skin until it felt strangely sensual, yet, soothing. Afterwards, she fell asleep in a more relaxed frame of mind.
The next day was all hustle and bustle. PJ did little jobs for Kris, whose intention was to keep her busy so she would have no time to get in anyone's way, or slow things down with her chatter. She had her lay down for a morning rest. PJ was recovering fast, but there was no point in overdoing things.
Raoul disappeared with Isabella early that morning, and when he returned, he spent most of his time either in his office, or with his guests. Kris was relieved to find that she was alone. Now she could get on with her organization.
Later in the day, she took a break and stood on the veranda sipping a cup of coffee when she saw a laughing group of guests cross the lawn with Isabella, who gingerly toddled her way in spike heels and skin-tight designer jeans, towards the back entrance. Her hair, well-anchored with a silk scarf, gave her a sophisticated look. Raoul approached from the opposite direction. As he came nearer to her, Isabella stumbled. Naturally, he held out his arms to catch and support her. Kris knew that she had planned the whole movement, calculating the ending perfectly.
Nevertheless, to Raoul -- who was too close to the situation -- and to onlookers, they were unable to see that it had been deliberate. His concern for her twisted ankle gave Isabella a valuable reason to lean limply against him. A strange and angry emotion overcame Kris as she watched him gently lift Isabella and laughingly carry her to the veranda.
As Kris followed slowly the two women's eyes met. Isabella's blatant flash of triumph turned to anger when Kris' indifferent gaze challenged hers. Isabella flushed deeply as she realised that the younger woman had seen through her little act.
"Raoul, I was lucky that you were there at the moment I fell, or I am sure I would really have hurt myself. That would have spoiled the whole evening. Be a darling and rub my ankle for me." She turned towards Kris. "Oh, I see you have a cup of coffee. I'd love one, if you don't mind."
"Of course. Are you sure you wouldn't like a pain killer as well? I'm sure your ankle must be sore," she responded sweetly.
"How kind, that would be nice."
A puzzled expression crossed Raoul's face as he looked from one woman to the other.
Preparations for the evening had gone smoothly. As afternoon turned to dusk, the guests slipped away to the privacy of their rooms to rest and dress for the evening's festivities.
Kris retreated to her room, as well, extremely pleased with her arrangements. Relaxing in a hot scented bath, a book of short stories kept for such rare luxurious occasions entertained her.
Wrapped in a fluffy towel, she felt a shiver of anticipated excitement for the evening ahead. She wanted to enjoy it as much as the guests were sure to.
Reaching into the wardrobe, she pulled out a white dress with long dangling fringes that swayed back and forth when she walked. She slipped her stocking feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals and then lightly sprayed "Joy" perfume on her wrists, ankles, and neck. Once she finished with her toiletries, she smoothed her hand over the dress and down her sides, inspecting herself closely in the mirror. She thought her appearance looked stunning. The pony-tailed Cinderella during the day had transformed into a sophisticated princess. The smooth arrangement of her hair, so different from most women's curls and frizz had a high glossy sheen. The sleekness of it accentuated the arch of her eyebrows and emphasized the sparkle in her green, long-lashed eyes. Her mouth, subtle in its colour, was full and soft.
Her thoughts turned to Raoul. For a moment she let herself wonder how he'd react if he entered her room -- would his eyes rove over her body with sensual delight? Would he cross the room and take her in his arms...?
Stop it! She shook herself out of her reverie and added a touch more perfume to her wrists. Her efforts to remove him from her mind, though, failed. Her emotions were heightened and she knew she was dressing with only one man in mind.
It was important to her that she felt good in her clothes on an evening when she had to be totally in control. Tonight she was satisfied with the overall result of her efforts.
Guests gathered as she made her way down the stairs and she felt a quick thrill inside as she saw the looks of admiration in the eyes of the men. Subconsciously, she looked for one man...anxious that he would also be impressed. But he was nowhere to be seen, missing the stir her entry had made.
Later, as she turned from speaking to an older gentleman, her eyes met Raoul's as he entered the room. Isabella hung on his arm, ever sophisticated and elegant in a tight black sequined sheath that split up the thigh, showing a slender leg encased in black stockings. Lazily, he looked at Kris from the ankle up and a small smile formed across his lips. Her face flushed before she could turn away.
So much for thinking he would be enchanted by my appearance and want to dance the night away with me. You poor, sad little fool. Kris bit her lip then fixed a smile on her face before turning to mingle with the guests.
Isabella clung to Raoul using her twisted ankle as an excuse. However, as the evening wore on and the wine took over, her ankle improved sufficiently to do a little dancing.
Later that evening when Luke arrived, Kris -- who had crossed the hall to use the powder room -- greeted him enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you made it."
"My, you look stunning." He gave her a hug, and then his hands came to rest on her waist. He whispered into her ear, "Have I got news for you, I can hardly wait to tell you. Come on, woman, let me say my hellos and then I'll tell you."
At the same time as the two greeted each other, Raoul looked over Isabella's head. When he saw Luke's hands on Kris' waist, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched and a look of disbelief flitted across his grim features.
Unaware that there was something amiss, Luke -- still holding her hand -- moved into the crowded room and straight to Raoul. "Sorry I'm late, but unavoidable things of a very personal nature crept up. Hey, later, when you can, I'd like to slip into your study and tell you my news."
He turned towards Kris. "Be a good girl and get me a whisky." He patted her on the bottom. She gave him a dazzling smile before she turned to go to the bar, completely aware of the scowl on the face of the handsome man in front of her.
"I'm not one for delaying things, Luke, you should know that by now. Spit it out."
"No, really, it can wait. You have guests to consider."
Kris returned and handed Luke his drink. "Ah, just what the doctor ordered, thank you. My, the place looks festive. As usual, Kris, your touch can be seen."
Kris smiled her thanks.
As Luke spoke, Raoul shrugged and turned away, but his glance strayed again and again to the two in animated conversation. Then, thoughtfully, he looked across the room at Isabella, moved to her side, and asked her to dance with him. The hurt ankle forgotten, she moved easily with him towards the middle of the floor.
As Kris watched them, she couldn't help but think that Isabella's exercised and dieted body had a sinuous flow that offered no enjoyment that close dancing should bring.
As the evening wore on, he danced with many of his guests and friends, but carefully avoided Luke and Kris, despite the fact that they hadn't been together the entire time. He turned to the bar for a drink when he realised that they were standing there. Before he could veer away, Luke took his arm.
"Say, cousin, you haven't been very nice to your beautiful hostess tonight. I haven't seen you dance with her once, and here she is without a partner because I have opted out for a while." He pushed the two to face each other. "My goodness." Luke laughed at the horrified looks on their faces. "You only have to dance, you know. I'm not throwing you to the lions. Go on, be little devils." He picked up his glass and deliberately and quickly moved away.
Raoul and Kris faced
each other for a split second longer and then he took a step forward and held her in his arms, moving her expertly to the rhythm of the music. For a moment she was rigid and stiff, but she quickly relaxed. With every fluid movement, her body moulded softly to his. As they danced, her soft cheek gently rubbed against his recently shaven one, her perfume tantalizing him. His hand dropped to the small of her back and he held her closer as their hips and thighs moved as one. A tension of physical awareness sprang between them, and she felt the rigid effect that their closeness had on his lower body. Kris tried hard not to let her body respond as she breathed in sharply and stiffened against him.
Her reaction caused Raoul to curse inwardly. He loosened his hold on her waist. "We have both been dancing all night and I am sure you would rather sit this out quietly with a drink; I know I would," he said, stiffly.
With relief, she allowed him to lead her from the floor.
However, the awkward moment quickly passed when Isabella swooped in.
"Raoul, darling, remember this tune? They played it so often while we were away," she said, completely ignoring Kris. "Come and dance with me. You know I simply love it."
Without a backward glance, he escorted Isabella to the dance floor.
Surveying the festive scene, she realised how hard she had worked to achieve such a success. Now that it had caught up with her, she decided to have a hot bath, and slip into blessed sleep. However, it was some time before the guests drifted off. When they did, she closed everything down. But not before she saw Isabella and Raoul in deep conversation in the hallway that led to his room.
She went to bed and immediately and fell into a deep sleep, but awoke at about four a.m. with a dreadful thirst. Positive that there would be no one around, she slipped out in her nighty for a glass of cold milk. In the hall, she noticed the open lounge door. She was not too sleepy to remember that it was the last door she had closed before heading upstairs to her room.
As she drew closer, she noticed that the door to Raoul's study was also open, but inside a dim light shone. She silently crossed the floor and gasped when she saw Raoul slumped awkwardly in his chair fast asleep, still fully dressed. On the table beside him sat a half-empty brandy bottle and a full glass. Forgetting her unclad state, she went over to him and shook him gently by the shoulder.
"Raoul, wake up. Come on, you can't stay here all night. Let me help you." She shook him harder. "Come on, Raoul, wake up." Nothing. She tried once more. "Please, wake up and let me help you to bed." She shook him vigorously, but his only response was a gentle moan and a shake of his head.
Realizing the brandy had the better of him, she decided to make him as comfortable as possible where he sat. Dragging another chair across, she put his feet onto it, pulled off his shoes and socks, tucked a cushion under his shoulders and neck, and went off for a blanket. He had settled deeper into the cushions and looked more comfortable when she returned. Gently loosening his tie and undoing the top shirt button, she hesitated while looking at him. Putting her hands onto his waistband, she undid the catch to ease the tightness around his middle. She froze when his hand pressed onto hers. He muttered something unrecognizable then relaxed again. She covered him lightly, switched out the light and tiptoed out.
It was not until later the next day that she saw Raoul. He was his usual sophisticated self, charming the ladies, business-like with the men. As she prepared for a luncheon, she studied Raoul from a distance. He stood with the light behind him and acknowledged her with a nod, but the shadows on his face gave nothing away. It hit her once again that she must leave the job as soon as possible because only hurt and heartache lay ahead if she stayed. She felt a wrench in her stomach as she watched PJ show him the tricks they had taught Jump -- how fond of the little girl she had become. Her eyes strayed towards Isabella and she felt a surge of anger at the spoilt petulance of the woman who obviously resented his preoccupation with his daughter.
"Naughty, naughty, those are black thoughts; I'd give you more than a penny for them." Embarrassed spots of colour flushed her cheeks as she faced the man that spoke. Her hand fluttered to her throat and she wanted to make a hasty retreat.
"Hey, remember me? I'm Luke, a friend of yours." He laughed easily.
Conscious that he had witnessed something she would rather not talk about, he diffused the moment by continuing without a pause. "Isn't it time the lady of the house had some fresh air and stopped working so hard? If we eat ten minutes late, what the hell."
Taking her arm, he led her out into the sun.
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Chapter Thirteen
Raoul's eyes held hers long enough to make her flinch. I'm like a stupid teenager, she thought angrily. This is ridiculous. How many times have I said this and still it happens?
PJ and Jump watched as she stepped onto the grass and they ran joyously to her.
To hide her flushed cheeks, Kris bent down to the barking dog. "Hush, you noisy brute. There are some delicate heads here today. You won't be popular if you carry on like this."
"You are quite right." Isabella's cool voice cut into the warm air like a rapier. "And, of course, you are precisely the person to remove the irritation." Linking her arm with Raoul's, she tried to urge him away. "Come, my darling, let the children play."
To Kris' surprise, he shrugged her off.
"Luke, take M'lady inside for me and give her a good gin and tonic to settle her nerves, hair of the dog so to speak. Come PJ, call your hound. We're going to the lake for a walk before lunch."
His expressionless eyes sought out Kris. "I wish to speak to you, so what better time than now? I'm sure you can leave your lunch preparations for a while. Come along." He turned before she could respond, and strode off with his delighted child holding his hand and an eager Jump plunging ahead to clear away danger for his beloved little mistress.
Kris had nearly rebelled at the way he'd spoken to her, but when her eyes had met the incredulous gaze of the Portuguese lady, she'd decided against it. Additionally, her curiosity took an upper hand, and she followed behind the trio at her own pace. She had the distinct impression that his sharp tone and unfriendly gaze had more to do with Isabella than herself.
She would have to discuss things with him sooner or later too, and in his words, what better time than now? Composure took over when she stepped on to the shingles at the lake edge and walked slowly towards Raoul, despite the fact that he watched her long legs and swinging hips with obvious interest.
"Well?" Irritated by her disadvantage, and his assumption that she would come at his beck and call, she waited for him to speak.
He raised an eyebrow and looked at her quizzically through half-closed lids, keeping his silence until she stood directly in front of him.
"Don't be that way," he said. "You look so defensive. I don't wish to fight, I simply want to talk to you about the idea I mentioned last night."
He threw a stick for Jump and turned to PJ. "Let's see how fast you can run to that rock over there. We'll be along, but first I want to talk to Kris."
To an onlooker it would have appeared most companionable as they started to walk slowly along the edge of the lake with the dog and child rushing off ahead.
When Kris took a furtive look at the tall handsome man beside her, electric ripples of desire raced throughout her body, causing her to shiver. Raoul must have sensed something because he looked over sharply. Before he could speak, however, she moved away with a little cry of, "Oh, look, what a beautiful piece of...driftwood." She stooped to pick up a well-weathered piece. Thank goodness my eye caught it lying there at the right time, she thought with relief as the awkward moment passed and she was able to keep her distance.
He had the power to disturb her. Every time she looked at him, his dominating presence reminded her of their brief, but intimate physical encounters. They had moved her to feel in a way she had never experienced while Raoul had probably not been affected. After all, he had always moved in circles of
beautiful, sexy and sophisticated women. Let's face it, she mused, my previous love life had hardly been a great success, or qualified me as a femme fatale.
She was brought back to earth with a start when he started outlining the plans he had in mind.
"When my wife was pregnant with PJ, I bought her a villa in the Algarve. She had only seen it a couple of times, but had started making plans for alterations and redecoration. After PJ was born, we never got around to doing these things." He looked thoughtfully into the distance. "After the accident, I kept the housekeeper and her husband on the property to keep the place clean and painted and the grounds tidy. I lost interest, but never had the heart to sell it. I only went back once, but sent the necessary money for its upkeep from a distance.
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