The Purest of Diamonds?

by Susan Stephens

Warmth flooded her as Raffa sat down in the next chair, close but not too close, almost touching but not touching, in a way that made her thighs tingle.

  ‘You can rely on me to back you up with enough smouldering looks and dirty dancing to shock your sisters out of their killer shoes.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ Did she mean to say that? Yes, she did. ‘That should make my home life a whole lot easier,’ she commented dryly.

  ‘Any time I can be of service...’

  And this was a really bad time to be holding Raffa’s stare. His eyes were dancing with laughter, which told her nothing about his thoughts, but if this connection between them was only for tonight, it was the most fun she’d had in a long time. And now Britt and Eva had arrived in the ballroom on the arms of their handsome partners, bringing an end to their conversation as every head in the ballroom swivelled round.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Leila,’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close. ‘I promise not to do anything that might upset them.’

  Once she stared at Raffa it was hard to look away. ‘Something tells me Eva and Britt aren’t going to believe we’ve been sitting, chatting in the lounge all this time.’

  And the truth was even more complicated than that, Leila realised. Both of them had touched on subjects she guessed neither of them would dream of discussing with a stranger, and the connection she’d sensed between them at first had grown stronger because of it.

  ‘You’ll just have to put up with your sisters’ suspicions,’ Raffa said pragmatically, leaning back as he prepared to stand to greet their dinner companions.

  ‘Just so long as we don’t take this too far,’ Leila agreed, already wondering what she’d got herself into as Raffa turned to bestow a lingering look on her face.

  ‘You and I know what went on.’

  Precisely nothing, she thought as the most handsome man in the room went on to list their harmless pastimes. ‘You drank juice. We talked. We relaxed. But there’s no way on earth your sisters are going to believe that, so unless you’d rather pretend we haven’t been together every second since you arrived at the hotel—’

  ‘You make our innocent time together sound so bad.’

  ‘What fun would it be otherwise?’ he murmured.

  She hummed as Raffa’s black gaze bored deep into hers.

  ‘Let the teasing begin,’ he said.

  Had it already? she wondered as Raffa leaned in close. And was she the main target? If Britt and Eva had been suspicious before, seeing the two of them like this, so close they were practically kissing, would turn her sisters into tireless seekers after the truth. But she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was following the advice in her mother’s letter and being bold.

  And even when Raffa smiled his slow, sexy smile, she asked herself, was it likely Britt and Eva would imagine she’d had hot monkey sex with Raffa Leon?

  Absolutely not!

  So what did she have to worry about?

  She could relax.

  Britt and Eva stared first at Raffa, and then at their sister. ‘Well,’ Britt said, smiling as they greeted her. ‘Here you are, Leila.’ She exchanged an arch-browed look with Eva.

  ‘I’m really sorry we missed the reception upstairs,’ Leila began, slipping easily back into the role of peacemaker, ‘but—’

  ‘But we got talking,’ Raffa intervened smoothly.

  ‘I’m sure you did,’ Eva agreed dryly.

  ‘We were in the lounge,’ Leila chipped in.

  ‘Of course you were,’ Britt agreed.

  Raffa was right. They were never going to believe her. She glanced at him, only for Raffa to give her an amused and conspiratorial look. Let the teasing begin, he’d said. But let’s not overdo it, her eyes begged him as her sisters sat down. This was Eva’s special night, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.

  Raffa returned her look with a reassuring expression. She’d never had a co-conspirator before. And it was quite incredible to think she belonged with such a party of swans, Leila mused as everyone started talking at once. Eva looked off-the-scale stunning, with her long, flame-red hair caught back on either side of her beautiful face with glittering diamond combs, her fabulous figure displayed in a floor-length, body-hugging gown of flesh-coloured lace, embellished with tiny crystals. And the heat flying between Eva and Count Roman Quisvada, the man she would marry tomorrow, was off the scale.

  Would a man ever look at her that way? Leila wondered as she turned her attention to Britt, whose husband, Sheikh Sharif, was currently shooting intensely personal messages into his wife’s eyes. With her icy Nordic looks, imposing height and slender figure, Britt was the perfect foil for her Arabian prince, and there was such closeness between them, Leila couldn’t help but feel wistful.

  There was such an overload of glamour at their table they were the focus of the room. Three amazing-looking men, two fabulous-looking women...and Leila. Her sisters set a standard she couldn’t hope to compete with, but for one night, with Raffa at her side, she was going to give it a shot.

  ‘Would you like me to help you choose from the menu, Leila?’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close.

  Britt and Eva were instantly on alert, but she felt obliged to point out, ‘It’s a fixed menu.’

  ‘So it is,’ Raffa agreed, not losing eye contact with her for a moment.

  It was going to be hard remembering this was just pretence, but a glance at her sisters reassured her they were convinced.

  ‘Would you like me to read the menu out to you?’ Raffa now suggested.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said, sitting back with the air of a woman for whom men peeled grapes.

  Britt and Eva had designed the menu between them and Leila soon realised that her sisters had chosen food which was impossible to eat without appearing provocative—a look Leila was keen to avoid tonight, even if her intention was to tease them, as she had to balance the game with not taking things too far with Raffa.

  The appetiser was a small baked cheese drizzled with truffle oil on a bed of salad leaves...

  ‘Don’t you like cheese, Leila?’

  As Raffa asked the question Britt and Eva stared at her. She loved cheese and they knew it. Britt had probably designed this first course with Leila’s preferences in mind. But the thought of all that soft, warm cheese glistening on her lips—

  ‘Shall we swap plates?’ Raffa suggested.

  She lifted the plate. He reached for it, and their fingers touched. Heat exploded inside her. Her gasp could probably be heard in the car park.

  ‘I love a man with a healthy appetite,’ Britt commented, flashing a look at Eva.

  ‘What’s the matter, baby sister?’ Eva contributed, picking up the virtual ball Britt had just lobbed across the net. ‘Not enough hot food for you around this table?’

  ‘I’ve got an enormous appetite,’ Raffa confessed with every appearance of innocence. ‘If any of you don’t want your food, please pass it my way.’

  The other men registered small smiles at this, while Britt and Eva exchanged a knowing look.

  Okay. She got it. Leila was Little Red Riding Hood paired with the big bad wolf for the night. She gave her sisters a warning look, but they just smiled and raised a brow. As long as she could handle it, they were okay with it. Now she just had to watch out that the joke didn’t end up on her.

  The next course was asparagus, which was possibly Leila’s favourite food, but the way Eva was sucking the butter off the tip...

  ‘I can’t believe you’re not eating this,’ Raffa scolded when she again offered to exchange her plate with him, but his eyes were laughing, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  ‘I don’t want to risk butter dripping down my dress.’ She raised a brow at him, conscious that her sisters were watching them closely. ‘This dress has been through enough adventure
s for one night, don’t you agree, Raffa?’

  As Britt and Eva exchanged a look, Leila appeared to change her mind, and, lifting a buttery spear to her lips, she sucked on it thoughtfully.

  ‘Here—have another one if you’re hungry,’ he prompted in a way that made her breath catch.

  Her sisters were transfixed by now, while the look in Raffa’s eyes wasn’t doing all that much for her own equilibrium. It was just an act, she told herself, until he captured some butter from her lips on his thumb and sucked it clean. She felt an answering pulse of pleasure with each lazy tug of his mouth. It was such a sexy, intimate thing for him to do.

  And she should look away.

  When it came to the entrée, a black pepper filet mignon with a blob of Gorgonzola on top, resting on a bed of wilted spinach, she was still watching Raffa eat.

  ‘Hmm, delicious,’ he murmured, savouring the delicious meat. ‘Why aren’t you eating, Leila?’

  ‘It’s chocolate fondue for pudding,’ Britt remarked innocently.

  Okay, there was no leaving this game half played. ‘Chocolate fondue?’ She gazed deep into Raffa’s eyes. ‘My favourite...’

  As Raffa paused, fork suspended, she tucked in with relish. This was easy. Where had she been hiding all these years?

  ‘Leila.’

  Why was Raffa whispering?

  She turned to look at him with confidence. ‘Yes? What is it? What’s wrong?’

  She prickled with awareness as he leaned in close.

  ‘You’ve got spinach between your teeth...’

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS INEVITABLE the conversation around the table would eventually return to the hottest topic of the night: where had Leila and Raffa been for such a long time? Britt and Eva clearly weren’t convinced by the hotel lounge story.

  ‘So, what did you two find to talk about up in Raffa’s suite?’ Britt asked casually.

  ‘We weren’t in Raffa’s suite,’ Leila said patiently. ‘We were chatting in the hotel lounge, surrounded by other guests—’ She was just getting into her stride when her eyes widened with surprise as Raffa’s warm, strong hand covered hers in a cautionary gesture.

  ‘We were discussing the mining museum, as a matter of fact,’ he commented casually. ‘Leila’s got some great ideas,’ he went on without missing a beat. ‘And I was saying that, as I have one of the finest gem collections in the world, perhaps Leila should visit my island with a view to displaying a selection of her choice in Skavanga.’

  The silence was absolute. Everyone was stunned, including Leila. Raffa had just hit them with the conversation stopper of all time. Was that a serious invitation? Or was he still playing games?

  ‘Just say yes,’ he suggested, easing back on his chair as she looked at him.

  For once, Britt had nothing to say, and it was Eva who filled the gap in her usual blunt manner. ‘What are you suggesting?’ she asked Raffa suspiciously, flying in defence of her sister.

  ‘I’m suggesting Leila comes to Isla Montaña de Fuego to take a look at my jewels,’ Raffa responded quietly.

  ‘Why?’ Eva was keen to dig deeper before she let him off the hook. ‘Why does Leila need to visit your island? Can’t you bring the gems here?’

  ‘I wouldn’t presume to make a selection for Leila,’ Raffa explained smoothly, his black stare confirming this with Leila.

  ‘That’s right.’ Leila’s heart was going crazy as she played along. ‘I can’t wait to see Raffa’s collection. Everyone loves a big diamond, don’t they, Eva?’

  Britt and Eva quickly hid their ring hands under the table as Raffa added, ‘Leila sees a great future for the mining museum.’

  ‘You two have been chatting, haven’t you?’ Eva commented, relaxing back, defeated for once.

  As her sisters exchanged a look Leila wondered how long she could keep this up. Visiting Raffa’s island? As if! ‘Yes, Raffa and I have been talking,’ she confirmed blithely. ‘It’s only natural when we’ve got so much in common— The diamonds,’ she added when her sisters stared at her in disbelief.

  ‘Indeed,’ Eva murmured with amusement. ‘The diamonds. I’d almost forgotten them.’

  ‘Well, I can’t think of any other reason I’d visit the island—’ As she spoke Leila was conscious of digging an even bigger hole for herself, but somehow she couldn’t stop. ‘As soon as I slipped on the ice and Raffa caught me, I thought—what luck! This is my chance to put my business proposition to him—’

  ‘Your what?’ Britt interrupted.

  Fair enough. She’d gone too far. When were Leila Skavanga and business ever mentioned in the same sentence? Try never.

  ‘Leila made a very good pitch, actually,’ Raffa said, filling the gap. ‘Water, anyone? Sparkling...? Still...?’

  ‘Leila is brilliant at her job,’ Britt mused out loud as if she was actually convinced.

  ‘And has always seen her work as an opportunity to give a whole new generation an insight into the business that put the town on the map,’ Eva added, shooting a proud-sister look at Leila.

  Oh, no! Why were her sisters getting involved? She felt really bad now. If only they would stop being so helpful! Didn’t they realise this was all a joke? It so obviously was—

  She looked at Raffa, who was giving nothing away. But why pretend to invite her to his island? That was going a bit far, wasn’t it?

  She almost jumped out of her skin when he reached across to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, and realised she had to say something quickly to Britt and Eva or they would be completely sucked in. ‘He’s only joking about the trip—even Raffa couldn’t be such a glutton for punishment as to invite me to spend more time with him.’ She shared an amused look with Britt and Eva and saw them relax.

  ‘Well, the invitation’s on the table, Leila.’

  Her head shot round to Raffa. What? ‘An hour chatting with me isn’t punishment enough?’ she pressed, laughing to try and get him out of his predicament.

  No dice. And she got the distinct impression her sisters were holding their breath.

  ‘Not nearly long enough,’ Raffa said. ‘And in case you’re in any doubt,’ he added, saying this to everyone around the table, ‘I never joke where business is concerned.’

  Britt and Eva were transfixed, while Leila’s heart was pumping like crazy. If this was a serious offer, and it certainly seemed to be, it would be her first proper trip out of Skavanga. And with Raffa!

  As the spotlight swung away and the conversation returned to less controversial topics Raffa’s attention remained fixed on her face, leaving her to wonder if she’d survived this game of teasing, or if she was heading for a fall.

  ‘We’re going to dance,’ Britt announced. ‘Leila?’

  ‘Oh, no. I’m okay, thank you.’

  ‘Will you excuse us if we leave you two alone?’ Britt pressed, still obviously concerned for Leila.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Leila reassured her. ‘You go right ahead.’

  Raffa stood politely as both her sisters left the table with their partners, and then he sat down again, while Leila clung to a life raft in the shape of a chair.

  ‘Shall we?’ he suggested, glancing at the packed dance floor.

  ‘You want to dance with me?’

  ‘I don’t see anyone else sitting here.’

  As a smile curved Raffa’s lips she knew this was not remotely sensible. ‘Dancing’s really not my thing.’

  ‘But I thought we had a pact?’

  To tease her sisters, not to bring disaster in the shape of a hot, bad man crashing down on her head. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to our pact.’

  ‘What if I want you to?’

  As a catalogue of potential pitfalls flashed through her head she felt it was time to come clean. ‘Really—ther
e’s no need to continue being polite to me.’

  ‘Who said I’m being polite?’ Raffa demanded, reaching for her hand.

  She couldn’t refuse—not with people staring at them and shooting admiring glances at Raffa. She stood and exhaled shakily as he drew her by the hand towards the dance floor, and gave another shaky exclamation when he pressed her close. He hadn’t been joking about dirty dancing. She could hardly breathe. Or maybe that was too much excitement. Heat was rampaging through her as she came into contact with every alarming contour of his body.

  ‘I thought you wanted to dance,’ Raffa prompted when she remained quite still.

  ‘You wanted to dance,’ she reminded him, reluctant to end her sensory exploration of a man who was every bit as hard as he looked.

  ‘Yes. With you,’ he confirmed, tightening his grip.

  Raffa didn’t take no for an answer, Leila discovered as he swept her round the floor.

  And her sisters were watching. Watching? They were agog. And now they were dancing round her to take a closer look. ‘Bandits at twelve o’clock,’ she warned, making the mistake of meeting the slumbering sexual heat in Raffa’s eyes.

  ‘I like your style, Leila Skavanga,’ he murmured, his voice all husky and rough.

  ‘Really?’ She prepared herself for some glowing compliment from the master of charm. ‘Why?’

  ‘Stubborn. Tricky. Unpredictable.’ Raffa shrugged. ‘I never know what to expect from you.’

  Then he wouldn’t be surprised when her stiletto hit his foot.

  ‘What’s wrong now, Leila?’

  She sniffed. ‘I’m waiting for the right beat of the music.’

  ‘Ah, a perfectionist.’

  ‘No. A novice.’

  ‘A novice?’ Raffa’s warm breath brushed her ear. ‘I could soon change that.’

  Her sharp intake of breath could probably be heard outside the hotel. ‘Practice makes perfect.’

  ‘Another topic on which we agree. Have you got the beat yet, Leila?’

  She’d got something!

  How could they move so well together when they were a complete mismatch? Fire and ice. Raffa’s great size compared to her— Well, truthfully, she wasn’t exactly small, but she was a lot smaller than he was. But as the music wove its spell and she began to relax she started to enjoy herself, so that by the time they danced past her sisters there was mischief in her blood. She had always been content to stay beneath the radar, allowing Britt and Eva to slug it out, but not tonight. Not with Raffa. So as they danced past her sisters, instead of shrinking into the woodwork, she threw back her hair and sighed, leaving Britt and Eva in no doubt that she wouldn’t have dusty archives on her mind tonight.