by Lynne Graham
‘Oh, heck.’ Harriet stole a glance at her half-sibling’s pale, set profile, her heart going out to him as she let Rafael help her into the passenger seat. ‘Why didn’t it occur to me that he might be the “him” in that message on the stable wall?’
‘I suspect you felt that I deserved a bunny-boiler more than he did.’
Harriet was shocked to feel her lip quiver at that deadpan response. ‘How come you know so much more about this than I do?’ she asked. ‘Look, why am I getting into your car?’
‘I put you in it,’ Rafael pointed out equably.
‘But I can’t leave the gymkhana,’ Harriet argued as Boyce climbed into the back seat.
‘Yes, you can. My staff are more than capable of running what remains of the show. You need to be checked over by a doctor—’
‘No—’
‘And make a statement to the garda and a complaint against the stalker who’s been harassing you.’
‘Gemma…’
‘Don’t personalise a psycho who frightened the living daylights out of you,’ Rafael incised with ruthless bite. ‘Five minutes ago she almost ran you down!’
‘But that was an accident: she didn’t see me. I walked out in front of her car. I saw her face and she was distraught, not looking where she was going.’
‘You think that makes me feel better? Excuse me…I’ll be back in a few minutes. Boyce, make sure your sister stays where she is.’
‘OK,’ her half-brother answered, like an obedient schoolboy.
‘Are you just going to let Rafael tell you what to do?’
‘I really would prefer the media not to get hold of this particular story; the lid could blow off it so easily,’ Boyce admitted heavily. ‘It’s only thanks to Rafael that the situation is under control. He’s had his people keeping an eye on you since yesterday.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Events organisers aren’t usually so muscular. Most of the staff he sent over to help you today work for him in the security field.’
‘I had no idea. But before Rafael comes back tell me about Gemma and what happened between you. For a start, who is she?’
‘She’s the daughter of a wealthy property developer. When I first started seeing her she was a lot of fun, but that didn’t last long. She began listening in on my calls and throwing jealous scenes. She stole a key to my apartment, showed up uninvited all the time,’ he recited wearily. ‘I couldn’t handle her, so I ended it. She threatened to top herself. I talked to her parents and they were very decent about it, but I felt guilty.’
‘You mustn’t.’ Harriet was impressed that he had tried to help Gemma even after she had become a real headache in his life. ‘How did she find out you were in Ireland?’
‘That was my fault too. She phoned me to ask me to her twenty-first birthday party and I said I’d be over here. She seems to have got the details of when and where from a mutual friend, who wasn’t aware she’d become a problem. I was shattered last night when Rafael told me what had been happening. I wish you’d told me about the threat painted on the wall. You see, I did think I’d seen Gemma in Dooleys, but just assumed I’d been mistaken…’
Her brow was furrowed. ‘When did you see Rafael last night?’
She soon realised how deceptive Rafael’s apparent unconcern had been. Once her brother had confided that it was possible that his ex-girlfriend might be behind the disturbing things that had been happening, Rafael had insisted on taking careful precautions.
‘He said that his gut instinct was to cancel the gymkhana, but that in the long term you’d be safer if Gemma came out of the woodwork and got caught. His security team got a photo of her and circulated it. I called her parents last night, and they were able to confirm that she was in the area. They were making arrangements to fly over and bring her home.’
Rafael opened the rear door of the Range Rover and deposited Peanut in the luggage bay. Harriet heard the pig’s signature snuffle and turned her head in surprise. ‘You found Peanut?’
‘I knew you’d have them with you.’ Rafael opened the door beside her and produced Samson from the inside pocket of his Barbour. ‘Real men don’t carry chihuahuas in public, a thaisce.’ He settled the little dog on her lap. ‘Right, one pig and one dog on board. You don’t want the rooster as well, do you?’
‘Albert? How did you find out about Albert?’ Harriet laughed.
Rafael lifted an aristocratic brow. ‘His fame has spread.’
‘He’s a little home bird. He hangs out round the cottage. He wouldn’t thank you for a trip in a car.’
Boyce’s mobile phone rang and he answered it. With a muttered apology, he swung back out of the Range Rover and told them to go ahead without him.
‘You’re his sister. Tell him to steer clear of all further involvement with Gemma Barton’s parents,’ Rafael drawled in wry undertone. ‘He can’t be on both sides.’
‘How do you know it’s them he’s speaking to?’
‘ESP. He should back off. She’ll be arrested and charged—’
‘Not for anything she’s done to me. I won’t make an official complaint just because of that stupid message on the wall or that wreath.’
‘Boyce believes she was inside the cottage as well. I’m fairly certain she also let the horses out.’
‘You think she was behind that?’ Harriet was aghast.
‘You were lucky. One of those horses could have caused a serious accident in which someone was injured.’
‘I know but Gemma Barton has problems. She needs help more than she needs punishment—’
‘Then when she attacks Boyce’s next girlfriend, let it be on your conscience that you were too much of a wimp to prosecute.’
Harriet flinched at that blunt warning.
Rafael drew up outside Flynn Court and she blinked in surprise. ‘I thought you were taking me home?’
‘You were almost road-kill. I’m suffering from a very male old-fashioned need to keep tabs on you right now. In any case, the doctor should be here soon.’
Harriet was dismayed to notice that her hands were trembling. ‘What’s the matter with me?’
‘Shock. You hate the idea that you might cause anyone the slightest concern, so you’re trying very hard to act like nothing’s happened. But you had a fright and you got hurt and you’re shaken up. A reaction is normal.’
Astonished by how attuned he was to her, Harriet didn’t argue, and concentrated on trying to stop her teeth from chattering. Without a word Rafael scooped her off her feet and carried her into a sitting room furnished in delicate faded blue. There he settled her gently down on a sofa. Lifting a mohair rug from the arm, he spread it over her. Samson jumped up on to the seat beside her and cuddled up. Peanut stretched out below a nearby chair, little beady eyes watchful in unfamiliar territory.
Rafael went to order tea, took a call from his head of security, which lasted some time, and returned to the library to discover that Harriet had dropped off to sleep. He made several phone calls. With scientific cool he studied her while she slept, and wondered exactly which qualities made her seem so different from all the other women he had ever known.
Obviously she hit the right spot physically, in every area, he conceded reflectively. Face, hair, shape, height, weight. Although he had never been attracted to anyone like her before, she was somehow a wonderfully precise and perfect match of what he liked most. He enjoyed looking at her. She was so natural, never striving to make an impression with anything she wore or said. There was a trusting innocence about her too, which he found appealing. Her desire to be compassionate towards the stalker had irritated the hell out of him. But at the same time he admired her ability to retain that generosity of spirit and compassion. Suddenly he frowned, disturbed by the depth and tenor of his own thoughts. He liked her, and it was very rare for him to truly like a lover, but so what?
The elderly doctor was brisk and frank. Harriet had bruises right down one side of her body and would be sti
ff and sore for a day or so. He added that she was also showing all the symptoms of stress and overwork and needed to take more rest. Rafael reappeared during that discussion.
‘For a woman who came to Ireland to downshift to a less demanding lifestyle, you’re not doing very well,’ Rafael remarked when they were alone again.
‘I still love what I’m doing, and I love my home. But I may have somewhat underestimated the amount of work involved in setting up a new business.’
‘How tactful you are. You’re being forced to work twice as hard to balance the fact that I own half of the yard.’
‘Never mind that. I’m happy,’ Harriet countered cheerfully. ‘I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.’
‘You were on the sofa, not in my bed, so you’re forgiven.’
Harriet went pink.
Rafael rested stunning dark eyes on her. ‘I want to be with you somewhere where we can enjoy complete peace and privacy. I have a country house in Italy, which is in a very quiet location. I’d like to take you there.’
‘I…I’m flattered—’
‘Good. All you have to do is pack, and even that isn’t a necessity. I would be delighted to buy you everything you need. We shall leave in a few hours.’
It took Harriet a good thirty seconds to absorb that staggering declaration. ‘For goodness’ sake—me go gallivanting off to Italy just like that? It’s a wild and wonderful idea, but be sensible…I can’t leave the livery yard!’
‘Of course you can. As your partner, I have equal responsibility. You’ve worked so hard that you’re exhausted, while I’ve done nothing until now. But that’s changed: I’ve organised a manager to take charge while you’re away, and Davis will bring in local help from the village. Tolly has volunteered to take care of your pets—’
Harriet viewed him in startled disbelief and frustration. ‘Rafael…’
‘You’ll love Italy,’ he breathed huskily. ‘What’s wrong with wild and wonderful? How do you define sensible? Saying no to anything that sounds like too much fun? You might have died today. We might never have got the chance to be together again.’
He tossed those dramatic lines at her with a vibrant amusement in his eyes that made her laugh. Yet on another level she could not help but appreciate the inescapable truth he had voiced. But for a few bruises, she was alive and well, and she ought to make the most of her second chance. Indeed, it seemed to her that to be too sensible to snatch at the opportunity to go to Italy with Rafael would be pitiful.
‘It’s quite simple. Do you want to be with me?’ Rafael asked levelly. ‘Or don’t you?’
And he was right: it was that simple. In the space of a moment, Harriet decided what to do.
*
‘What’s my home here like?’ A lazy smile formed on Rafael’s darkly handsome face. ‘I will leave you to form your own opinion.’
The jet had landed at Galileo Galilei soon after dawn, and they had driven out of Pisa in a four-wheel-drive that had awaited them at the airport. Harriet had slept through most of the flight and was still sleepily relaxed, turning her head to view him with a sense of intense pleasure. ‘It’ll be very old and very large and very luxurious,’ she forecast.
‘Wait and see.’
For a moment Harriet spared a thought for Gemma Barton. Having talked to Boyce, she had decided not to press charges against his former girlfriend. Gemma had admitted everything she had done, and had agreed to undergo a residential course of treatment at a psychiatric facility. Her parents had taken their troubled daughter back to England with them. Rafael had disagreed with that more sympathetic approach but, to do him justice, he had not interfered.
Having left the motorway behind, they were travelling on a winding rural road that curved round a snow-capped mountain in a series of tortuous bends. On one side the ground fell sharp as a blade into a deep ravine with thickly forested slopes. Looking down at that endless drop made Harriet’s tummy flip, but Rafael was a true Italian, she thought ruefully, for he still drove with the speed and dexterity of a male on a straight road. Above, the sky was a clear continental blue so bright it made her blink.
‘Do you know…you haven’t even kissed me yet?’ she heard herself say.
Rafael cast her a surprised glance and then laughed out loud. ‘I was being considerate. You were so tired last night, and you’re bruised all over—’
‘Not that bruised,’ she told him.
He needed no further encouragement. He shot the car to a halt at a viewpoint overlooking the valley, released her seat belt and reached for her. He did all of those things in what seemed like one smooth, continuous movement. Hungry eyes flared over her sparkling eyes and pink cheeks. ‘You’re coming on to me…I like that…’
‘Do you?’ She was so desperate to feel his mouth on hers that she was tingling with anticipation.
‘There was another angle to my restraint,’ Rafael murmured huskily. ‘If I’d kissed you, I was scared that I might not be able to stop.’
A curl of heat flared low in her pelvis and she shifted tautly in her seat, making an infinitesimal move closer to him.
He flicked a strand of copper hair back from her white brow. ‘You don’t scare easy, do you?’
‘No.’ Gazing up into his lean, bronzed face, she felt her breath trip in her throat. She was almost mesmerised by the raw sexual intensity of his smouldering appraisal and the hot pulse of her own response.
He brought his sensual mouth down on hers, and a pang of such feverish longing gripped her that she shivered. His kiss was so sweet and addictive she wanted the next before the first was complete. Breathing raggedly, he lifted his proud dark head again. ‘I want to continue this in the comfort of my own bed.’
‘Spoilsport,’ she framed, through swollen lips.
‘Hussy,’ he growled, with a grin that revealed a flash of perfect white teeth as he settled her very gently back into the passenger seat.
Harriet very much enjoyed her new feeling of confidence around Rafael, but she would not have let him know. After all, he might have forgotten what he had admitted in the heat of the moment when he had snatched her back from the threat of Gemma’s car wheels. She wasn’t about to remind him that he had confessed to flaunting Frankie Millar in front of her to see whether or not she was jealous. However, that revelation had done real wonders for her self-esteem.
He turned the car on to the narrow unmade road that threaded through the mountains, and finally struck off on what appeared to be a grassy farm track. Spreading chestnut trees dappled the lane with shade and sunshine. Crimson poppies, golden broom and cobalt-blue cornflowers flourished in the long grass. A very old lichen-covered red-tiled roof came into view, and she sat forward for a better look. Below the terracotta roof stretched a long, low building of ancient stone, with windows at different heights and in no set formation. The farmhouse had a mellow charm and appeal that was timeless.
‘Is this it?’ Harriet asked doubtfully.
‘This is it—the Cavaliere fattoria, or home farm. What do you think?’
Harriet was already scrambling out of the car to get a closer look. ‘It’s like we’ve stepped back in time.’
‘Valente was born here.’
She whirled round, blue eyes agog. ‘On a farm? Your father, the hot-shot businessman? You’re kidding me!’
‘I kid you not. He was the youngest son, and he hated country life. He left here under a cloud and never came back.’
‘From what you’ve said about him, he kind of took his cloud everywhere with him. What did he do?’
Rafael thrust open the weathered oak door. She looked around with interest. A few pieces of antique country furniture had been retained, but there was no clutter. The décor had been scraped back to the bare-boned beauty of old wood and rough walls.
‘Valente made his initial fortune by cheating people with various business scams. He was clever enough to keep himself out of prison,’ Rafael shared with quiet derision. ‘Then he married a neighbour’s daughter fo
r her money and abandoned her in Rome when she was pregnant. She was too proud to return to her family, and she died in labour along with the child—alone and broke. My grandparents were so ashamed that they disowned their son.’
‘But this is your house now, so you must have got to meet them.’
‘I met my grandmother before she died, five years ago. Two of her sisters survive her, and a host of other relatives. Now…to practicalities,’ Rafael remarked with amusement. ‘The facilities are basic in this house. You have a free choice. We don’t have to stay here. Are you willing to rough it with me?’
‘Is there running water and a bathroom?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then stop being precious,’ she urged him. ‘We won’t be roughing it. Whisk the average woman off to a sunny valley in Italy, show her a picture book farmhouse with all the necessities of life and she’ll consider herself spoilt.’
‘You’re the first woman I’ve brought here, a mhilis.’
The pleasure of being the first was drowned out by her sudden awareness that she wanted to be the only woman he ever brought. Dismayed by that unwelcome knowledge, she tensed. As if he felt the distance in her, he pressed a kiss down on her parted lips, and she reached up to hold him to her, desire running like liquid fire through her taut frame.
He closed his hand over hers and walked her up the stairs. A gentle breeze cooled the wide landing. The shutters had been flung wide in the big front room. The big wooden bed was adorned with painted panels of pretty flowers and made up with plump pillows and crisp white linen sheets.
‘It feels like a hundred years since I touched you. I was planning to go slow, but I’m too hungry for you to wait that long.’ With that roughened admission Rafael hauled her to him with strong hands and devoured her mouth with fiery urgency.