by Anne Mather
Lily nodded, more than willing to listen to his attractive voice.
‘But, I have to say, these days I do not involve myself in any religion, pequeña. Not even the very active sect to whom I believe your housekeeper belongs, no?’
Lily arched her brows in surprise. ‘How do you know about Dee-Dee?’
Rafe lay back in his chair, cradling his glass between his fingers. ‘I too have a housekeeper,’ he said easily. ‘There is very little that misses Carla’s attention, no?’
Or yours either, thought Lily, though this time she avoided an unguarded outburst. Then, cautiously, ‘You still haven’t told me why you wanted to see my father.’
‘Did he not tell you himself?’
‘Obviously not.’ Lily had the impression he was enjoying her curiosity. She lifted her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. ‘But if you don’t want to tell me, I suppose I ought to be getting back to work.’
Rafe’s grin took her by surprise. ‘You are annoyed with me, no?’
‘No.’ Lily managed to make a dismissive gesture. ‘I wasn’t that interested.’
‘Ah.’ Rafe didn’t sound as if he believed her. ‘So—talk to me about yourself, niña. Do you like your job at the agency?’
‘I really ought to be going—’
‘Not yet,’ said Rafe, leaning across the table to capture the hand she’d rested on the table prior to getting up. ‘Tell me, why are you not wearing a ring?’ His thumb rubbed sensuously over her finger. ‘Or are all the men on Orchid Cay as blind as your employer?’
Lily caught her breath, sure that once again half the eyes in the small restaurant were on them. ‘If you mean why am I not married...?’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve not yet found anyone I’d like to spend my life with.’
Until now, she thought incredulously. Despite everything she’d heard about Rafe Oliveira, he was still the most fascinating man she’d ever met.
‘That is sad.’
Rafe met her gaze for a long disturbing moment, and then dragged his eyes away. What was he doing, flirting with this young woman? This girl, who seemed so naïve in many ways. Cursing himself, he added, ‘In Cuba, where I was born, many girls find an esposo as soon as they leave school.’
‘I used to think that was what my father wanted too,’ Lily told him, understanding what he meant, and then felt the colour rise into her cheeks. ‘Not that that’s of any interest to you.’
‘Al contrario. Everything about you interests me, niña.’ Despite himself, Rafe thought wryly, aware of how smooth her skin was beneath his fingers. ‘But you have changed your mind, sí?’
‘Well...’ Lily was encouraged to go on. ‘He did try to fix me up with Jacob Proctor. His curate,’ she explained as Rafe arched an enquiring brow. ‘But I think he realised that if I got married and moved to one of the other islands when Jacob got his own parish, I wouldn’t be around to care for him.’
Rafe caught his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. Then he said, ‘This—this Jacob? You were in love with him?’
Lily shook her head, and pulled her hand away. ‘Hardly. We only went out together half a dozen times.’
‘Poor Jacob!’
Although he endeavoured to keep a mocking tone, Rafe couldn’t help the feeling of relief that gripped him at this news. Yet once again he despised himself for the thought. He was almost forty, for God’s sake, while she was—
Younger. Much younger.
Meanwhile, Lily had decided this conversation was getting far too personal. The dangers Dee-Dee had warned her about were patently obvious, and, to avoid any further familiarity, she clasped her hands tightly together in her lap.
‘I must go,’ she declared but, before she could gather her bag and get to her feet, Rafe spoke again.
‘I thought you wanted to know why I came to visit with your father,’ he said, and Lily’s eyes widened in disbelief.
‘I had heard that the good padre was interested in ancient texts,’ Rafe put in swiftly. ‘I have offered to lend him a script, reputed to have been written by William of Ockham. You have heard of him, no? He was a medieval scholar, to whom the argument that reason should have no part in faith was attributed.’
Lily hesitated. ‘I wouldn’t have thought such things would interest someone...someone...’
‘Someone like me?’ suggested Rafe mockingly. And when her face suffused again with becoming colour, he added, ‘My uncle is a priest, pequeña. It is amazing how useful his knowledge of religion can be.’
CHAPTER SIX
THEY LEFT THE small restaurant soon after and, to Lily’s relief, there was no sign of the photographer.
And it was quite pleasant walking casually along the quayside, chatting about inconsequential things. Lily was pleased to discover that Rafe enjoyed swimming too and that, like her father had said, he did have a sailing craft of his own.
It was as they walked past the park that Rafe said softly, ‘Why do you not show me where you usually have lunch? It was here, was it not, instead of the restaurant, no?’
Lily was taken aback. ‘I ought to be getting back to the agency,’ she said, realising with a pang that Rafe had said nothing about his own possible involvement with the business. ‘I...well... I’ve already had longer than I should.’
‘Myers can manage without you for a few more minutes,’ Rafe declared, his hand on the small of her back guiding her into the park. He stopped beside a vacant wooden bench. ‘Shall we sit here?’
Lily hesitated. ‘Why?’
‘I enjoy your company,’ he said simply. ‘And I would like to enjoy it a little longer. Is that so hard to believe?’
It was, but Lily sat down anyway. And Rafe Oliveira sat down beside her, his arm along the back of the bench, only inches from the nape of her neck.
Rafe clenched his hand convulsively. The urge to touch the soft curve of skin so close to his fingers was almost irresistible. How would she react, he wondered, if he tangled his fingers in the silky strands of hair that had escaped from the knot she’d secured earlier? What would she do if he bent and placed his lips against her smooth skin? Would she run a mile?
Possibly.
He stifled an inward groan. For God’s sake, what was he doing? She was probably—what?—fifteen years younger than he was, and he had no desire to add cradle-snatching to his other sins. He would certainly have her father breathing fire down his neck if he attempted to deepen their relationship.
So he said the first thing that came into his head. ‘Tell me about Cartagena Charters. I think you probably know more about the company than Myers.’
Lily caught her breath at that and, when she turned her head to look at him, he wasn’t surprised to see the accusation in her eyes.
‘Is that why you really asked me to come into the park?’ she exclaimed. ‘Because you wanted to talk about the agency? Was the restaurant not private enough for you?’
‘Do not be ridiculous.’ Rafe found he was a little impatient now. ‘You cannot possibly believe I would do such a thing.’
‘But I don’t know you, Señor Oliveira. I don’t know what your motives are,’ she declared staunchly. ‘And you can’t expect me to discuss Ray’s business with you. He may be foolish at times, but we have worked together for too many years for me to let him down.’
She would have got to her feet then, but his hand on her knee was so shocking that she remained where she was. But that didn’t prevent her stomach from tightening again, or ease the erratic tattoo of her heart.
Rafe regarded her, aware that once again he had said the wrong thing. She distrusted him now and was unlikely to believe anything he said.
Her knee jerked beneath his fingers and he removed his hand. ‘Whatever you think, I am interested in the agency. And, in my opinion, you seem eminently aware of what is going on, no?’
Lily took a steadying breath. She knew that if she had any sense she’d get up and leave before he said anything else.
And before she was tempted to warn him that Ray
couldn’t always be trusted to tell the truth.
‘I would prefer it if you addressed any queries you have about the agency to Ray, señor,’ she said stiffly. ‘Please don’t think that buying me lunch will persuade me to betray any problems Ray might be having to you.’
Rafe’s mouth took on a cynical twist. So Myers was having problems. She wasn’t aware of it, but she’d as good as said so.
But he wasn’t foolish enough to reveal her mistake. On the contrary, her impulsive words had only made him even more attracted to her than he already was.
Lily, however, had decided she’d said enough. Besides, she was far too conscious of the warm strength of his thigh next to hers. And although she tried to tell herself it was the sun, shining through the branches of the tree under which the bench was situated, that was causing her skin to take on a sheen of perspiration, the truth was she felt hot all over when he looked at her as he was doing now.
‘I did not mean to upset you,’ he said huskily, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine. ‘I forget you are so young. And innocent in the ways of the world.’
‘Innocent?’ Lily returned his gaze now. ‘I’m not a child, señor.’
‘Perhaps it is just that you seem so—unworldly to a man like me,’ he ventured reluctantly, and she frowned.
‘Why a man like you?’
‘Oh.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Because of my background, I suppose.’
‘You mean because...because...’
‘Because I have been in prison?’ he queried. ‘Sí, that was not a good time in my life.’
Lily stared at him. ‘Actually, I didn’t know you’d been in prison,’ she said, feeling awkward now. ‘You said that you were...that you were...’
‘Innocent?’ he queried ‘That is true. But it took my lawyers some time to prove it, no?’
He paused and then went on evenly, ‘No obstante, these things change you, change your personality. I am not the ignorant child I was when I left Cuba.’
‘But you are Cuban?’
‘Partly,’ Rafe agreed. ‘My father is Cuban but my mother was an Americano. After the Revolution, he and my mother lived there for several more years before they were able to make their escape.’
‘They escaped?’ Lily was fascinated in spite of herself. ‘What an interesting history your family must have.’ She forgot for a moment all about Ray and the agency. ‘Mine is so boring by comparison. My parents left England when I was a baby. I don’t really remember living anywhere else but here.’
Rafe’s eyes darkened. ‘Believe me, there is nothing boring about you, querida,’ he assured her roughly, his voice thickening and scraping across her already sensitised nerves. His lips twisted. ‘Do not be deceived. Many women would envy you your lack of—what shall I say?—artificiality, no?’
‘Many women?’ Lily bit her lip. ‘And I suppose you’ve known lots.’
‘Some,’ Rafe agreed evenly, determined not to be drawn into further intimacy. He forced a self-mocking smile. ‘I am quite old, al fin y al cabo.’
Lily frowned. ‘I don’t think you’re old.’
‘But I am,’ he told her with a careless shrug. ‘Much older than you, no?’
Lily took an uneven breath. ‘What you’re really saying is that you’re so much more experienced than me.’
Rafe rose to his feet at her words. This was getting much too personal. He suspected she was unaware of his reaction to her words, but the temptation she offered was getting under his skin. His height giving him an added advantage, he said tersely, ‘I think you should leave, niña.’ He used the childish term deliberately in an effort to control the madness that was lurking inside him. ‘You may tell your father I will let him have the text he is interested in in the next few days.’
Lily hesitated but when he held out his hand she rose slowly from the bench. ‘Do you want to get rid of me now, señor?’ she asked, amazed that she was speaking so confidently when, in effect, her nerves were drawn as tight as violin strings.
‘Cara,’ he said tightly, ‘I have enjoyed our conversation. But, as you said a few moments ago, Myers will be wondering where you are.’
Lily lifted her shoulders in a careless gesture and Rafe’s eyes were instantly drawn to the revealing vee of her shirt. He glimpsed the swell of her breasts, the dusky hollow between. The lacy curve of a bra had never looked more inviting, and he knew he should step away.
She was so sweet but so vulnerable, he thought grimly. And, for his sins, he wanted her. Wanted a woman who, for all her foolish provocation, was still much too immature for him.
‘You’re right,’ she said, lifting her eyes to his, and he wondered what she thought of his dismissal. ‘And at least Ray respects my opinion.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Rafe scowled. ‘I cannot believe you care what that—imbecil—thinks of you.’
‘Ray’s not an imbecile,’ she exclaimed defensively. ‘I—I like him. We—we are good together.’
Rafe looked horror-stricken. ‘You cannot mean that you have feelings for this man. Oh, Lily, I do not want to hurt you, but you have so much to learn about the world in general and men in particular.’
Lily’s lips parted. ‘If you’re implying that I’ve never been with a man—’ she began, and then pressed a hand to her mouth as if by doing so she could take back the childish words.
Holding up her head, she added, trying for inconsequence, ‘In any case, it wasn’t very illuminating, as I recall.’
‘Then you slept with the wrong man,’ said Rafe, his tone thickening, and he felt an unwelcome irritation at the thought.
He shifted impatiently, uncomfortably aware of his unwanted arousal. Then, as another thought occurred to him, ‘Please tell me it was not Myers who gave you such a poor opinion of my sex.’
‘I don’t think that’s anything to do with you,’ Lily retorted shortly. Just who did he think he was? ‘If you’ll excuse me, señor—’
But Rafe had had enough. Against his better judgement, he caught her wrist when she would have turned away. His fingers registered warm skin, a racing pulse and the vulnerable spread of veins beneath his hand.
And his brain logged on to the knowledge that they were virtually alone in this corner of the park.
He wanted to kiss her, he thought grimly. He wanted to feel that soft mouth beneath his own. Ignoring his conscience, ignoring everything he’d told himself since they’d left the agency, he rubbed the smooth flesh that was virtually locked within his grasp against his lower body.
His arousal hardened immediately. And she couldn’t fail to be aware of it. Just the touch of those slim fingers against his manhood had him catching his breath. Heat swept through his loins, leaving him taut and vulnerable. Whether he’d intended to kiss her or not, the question was now moot.
With a groan that was part protest, part relief, he gave in to the desire to taste her. Her mouth was soft and pliant, and unexpectedly hot. Still finding it difficult to breathe, he pulled her even closer, plundering her willing sweetness with his tongue until he was forced to take a breath.
Her submission had been as incredible as it was eager and when he dragged his mouth from hers he buried his face in the hollow between her shoulder and her neck.
‘Por dios!’ he muttered hoarsely, aware that he was near to losing it. But when she gave a little moan and wound her arms around his neck, Rafe knew he had fallen into a trap of his own making.
As he inhaled her scent, he knew he’d never dreamt that he might be seduced by her youth and inexperience. How could he have known that her lips might excite and inflame him until his body was bathed in her heat? When he’d thrust his tongue into her mouth, he’d revelled in its possession. Dios mio, his control had almost been swept away.
Aware that the fire he had created was threatening to consume him, Rafe’s hands curled about her nape. Her silky hair tumbled about his fingers, and he badly wanted to go on kissing her. But this was madness, he told himself. It couldn’t be a
llowed to win.
‘Mierda,’ he muttered, dragging his mouth across the smooth curve of her cheek. ‘This should not be happening.’
He forced himself to step back from her, avoiding the confused glance she cast in his direction. ‘Take my advice: stay away from me in future,’ he added harshly. ‘I may not be so—so generous next time.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
LILY WAS HAVING supper with her father a couple of evenings later when she heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up outside the rectory.
Immediately, her mouth dried and her heart increased its pace until it was banging crazily against her ribcage. They weren’t expecting any visitors, and the only person she could think of who might call after dark was Rafe Oliveira.
It might be Ray Myers, of course. He was a friend of her father’s and occasionally called in for a chat. But, in the present circumstances, she didn’t think that was likely as he’d barely spoken to her since Rafe Oliveira had walked out of the agency.
Thankfully, Ray knew nothing about her having lunch with the man, or—her skin prickled—what had come after. When she’d returned to the agency, he’d immediately blamed her for not supporting him and warned her that if things didn’t improve she might be out of a job.
And Lily had known he wasn’t joking.
So if it was Oliveira she would have to be polite. But what was he doing here? Could he possibly have come to apologise? No, he’d probably brought the text he’d promised to lend her father, she assured herself. Whatever had happened between them, she had the feeling that Oliveira was a man who always kept his word.
When the expected knock came at the door, her father wiped his mouth on his napkin. Then he picked up the plate of gumbo that Dee-Dee had left for their evening meal and got up from the table.
‘Get that, will you, Lily?’ he asked rather irritably. He never liked being interrupted during a meal. ‘Unless it’s an emergency, I’m working. I’ll finish this in my study.’
Lily’s heart was beating fast again as she went to answer the door. Earlier, at her father’s insistence, she’d shed the shorts and shirt she’d worn to work in favour of an ankle-length chemise dress. Now, she was glad of its length to hide her shaky knees.