‘For all three of us,’ Rafe corrected.
Cairo’s smile faded. ‘But you can’t leave yet—’
‘I can do what I please, Cairo.’ Rafe scowled.
‘But what about the film festival?’
‘What about it?’
Cairo shrugged. ‘I assumed you needed to be there to collect your award.’
‘If I win an award, my assistant director can pick it up,’ Rafe dismissed without concern. ‘It’s more important to get you and Daisy back to England.’
‘I’m quite capable of getting myself and Daisy back to England, thank you very much—’
‘I have a private jet organized to fly us out this afternoon,’ he cut in abruptly in a tone that brooked no argument.
Cairo frowned as she slowly released Daisy. ‘But I came over in my car….’
‘I’ve also made arrangements for your car to be collected and driven back to England.’
Her brows rose at his arrogance. ‘I really would rather drive my own car back, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind in the least,’ Rafe drawled. ‘But you might want to look at these before making a definite decision on that …’ He pushed a pile of newspapers across the table towards her.
Cairo glanced down at the newspapers, her eyes widening as the very first one in the pile, an English publication, had a front-page photograph of herself and Rafe smiling at each other as they sat at the table together in the square in Grasse.
Cairo became very still as she pulled the tabloid newspaper further across the table. Although that hadn’t been necessary in order to be able to read the three inch headline above the photograph: CAIRO AND RAFE FIND LOVE IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE!
Not exactly subtle. But, then, were any of the tabloids?
‘More photographs and story on page three’ was the smaller announcement beneath that damning photograph.
What story? Cairo wondered incredulously. Until she and Rafe returned to the villa last night there hadn’t been a story—
Oh, no …!
No!
Cairo could feel herself paling even as she quickly turned to page three, her breath leaving her in a relieved gasp as she saw that the ‘story’ actually only consisted of half a dozen more photographs of herself and Rafe together yesterday in Grasse.
‘That man didn’t take a single photograph of me, Aunty Cairo,’ Daisy told her indignantly.
‘Didn’t he, love?’ she answered distractedly as she moved on to the next newspaper in the pile.
This one, and the other four, all had photographs of herself and Rafe as they arrived at the party in Cannes together the previous evening.
Not a single one of those reporters had been enterprising enough to follow them back to the villa last night in the hopes of taking intimate photographs of her and Rafe together. Thank goodness!
She and Rafe looked good together, she realized with a fierce frown. With her wearing three inch heels they were of a similar height, Rafe’s dark hair and swarthy skin a perfect foil for her own fairer colouring as they stood close together, Rafe’s hand resting lightly beneath her elbow, a confident smile curving his lips.
Looks can be deceptive, Cairo decided firmly as she pushed the newspapers away to look across the table at the man himself. ‘Your point is …?’
God, she was beautiful when she was being haughty, Rafe acknowledged admiringly. If a little lacking in perception! ‘Surely it’s obvious? You turn up anywhere today expecting to travel home by public transport and you’re going to be mobbed by yet more reporters.’
‘Damn!’ She grimaced. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’
Rafe relaxed back in his chair as he regarded her mockingly. ‘Are you sure that’s appropriate language to use in front of Daisy?’
‘Daddy says damn isn’t swearing, Uncle Rafe,’ Daisy told him brightly. ‘And neither is—’
‘I think your daddy is using a lot of poetic licence, Daisy,’ Rafe teased. ‘Still not want to come on the plane with us this afternoon, Cairo?’ He arched quizzical brows.
Cairo didn’t want to go anywhere with Rafe, not this afternoon or at any other time! But neither was she stupid enough to turn down the offer when the alternative was sure to turn out to be the nightmare Rafe had just described.
She sighed with resignation. ‘What time do you want us to be ready to leave?’
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ‘Two o’clock should do it. We— Who the hell is that?’ He scowled darkly as he stood up to glare down at the car driving up the private road to the villa.
Cairo stood up to stand beside him, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she thought she knew exactly who it was.
Either another enterprising reporter.
Or, more likely, it was Lionel …
He had left three messages on her mobile during the night. The first had been pleasant as he told her how nice it had been to see her again yesterday evening.
The second one had started out pleasant enough, too, with him asking her to meet with him so that they could talk. Unfortunately, as so often happened, it had deteriorated into insults after that as Lionel, obviously the worse for champagne, accused her of having been involved in an affair with Rafe all the time they had been married. As if! Cairo hadn’t even been able to bear being on the same continent as Rafe for the last few years, let alone share the same bed after what he’d done to her.
Also predictably, the third message had been Lionel apologizing for the previous abusive one!
Cairo hadn’t returned any of those calls. What was the point? She might still feel a certain amount of guilt where Lionel was concerned, had always felt that her lack of love for him had contributed to his addiction for gambling, but all the guilt in the world couldn’t change the fact that they both knew their marriage was over.
‘Do you want me to deal with this if it’s another reporter?’ Rafe asked grimly, turning to look at Cairo as she made no response.
She was staring intently at the car as it slowly came up the service road, her dark eyes shadowed above hollow cheeks.
‘Cairo …?’ he prompted.
She drew in a ragged breath before turning to look at him. ‘I— Would you mind taking Daisy down to the pool or something?’ she muttered.
‘Why on earth would I—’
‘Because I think our visitor is Lionel, that’s why,’ she explained wearily.
Lionel Bond was coming here?
Rafe turned his attention back to the car, his gaze narrowed as he tried to identify person behind the wheel. Yep. It was Bond, all right.
He glanced down at Cairo. ‘Do you want to speak to him?’
‘Not particularly.’ She grimaced.
‘Then don’t,’ Rafe rasped.
She gave a wistful smile. ‘It isn’t as simple as that, Rafe.’
‘Yes, Cairo.’ Rafe nodded. ‘It really is.’
She looked up at him quizzically. ‘Maybe for you it is, Rafe.’ She sighed. ‘But I’ve never been able to be quite that cruel.’
He shrugged. ‘Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind,’ he said curtly.
‘Like you were with me eight years ago?’ she challenged.
Rafe’s mouth thinned at the accusation. ‘I don’t believe we were talking about you and me.’
‘No, of course we weren’t,’ Cairo said immediately. ‘Forget I said that.’
Rafe wasn’t sure he wanted to forget it. He had been so stunned when Cairo had ended things between them so unexpectedly, quickly followed by her announcement of her engagement to Bond, that the two of them had never got to talk about the abrupt end of their own relationship.
Now probably wasn’t the best time to have that talk, either….
‘Okay, Cairo,’ he acquiesced. ‘Talk to Bond if that’s what you feel you have to do. But at the first sign of trouble I’m coming back up here to knock his teeth down his throat!’
Cairo stared up at him for several seconds before she gave an incredulous laugh. ‘I
really don’t think that will be necessary, Rafe, but thanks for the offer!’
‘Believe me, it will be my pleasure.’
How strange that Rafe, of all people, should offer to be her protector, Cairo mused as she walked over to meet with Lionel in the driveway. Not that Cairo would ever ask for his help, but she could still appreciate the irony of the situation.
However, her rueful smile quickly faded to one of weary resignation as she approached Lionel. ‘How much do you need this time, Lionel?’ she asked heavily.
‘So what did he want?’
Cairo turned from packing the suitcase open on top of her bed, her expression becoming guarded as she looked at Rafe as he leant against the door frame.
She straightened. ‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Rafe.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think you’ll find, Cairo, that I don’t really care what you do or don’t consider my business.’
Rafe had spent the last fifteen minutes beside the pool watching from behind dark sunglasses as Cairo and her ex-husband talked together on the terrace, trying to gauge from their body language exactly what was going on. But Cairo’s ultra-calm demeanour and Bond’s animated one hadn’t really told him an awful lot.
He had expected Cairo to join him and Daisy beside the pool once the other man had got back in his car and left, but instead she had disappeared inside the villa.
To pack, it seemed …
‘Well?’ he prompted impatiently.
Cairo frowned. ‘I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not telling you anything—’ She broke off, her eyes widening as Rafe crossed the room in three long strides to stand just inches away from her. She swallowed hard. ‘Shouldn’t you be outside with Daisy?’
‘Daisy’s too excited about going home to swim any more and has gone to her room to dress, instead.’
Cairo had no intention of telling Rafe the reason for Lionel’s visit. It was awkward enough that Lionel had tracked down the reporter from yesterday in order to find out where she was staying with Rafe, without going into the details of their conversation.
‘Shouldn’t you be packing, too, if we’re leaving for the airport in a couple of hours?’ she pointed out, inwardly wishing Rafe wouldn’t stand quite this close to her; his proximity was totally unnerving her!
Rafe shook his head. ‘I find Bond’s visit much more interesting than packing.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes—really,’ Rafe drawled. ‘You made an intriguing comment yesterday evening …’
‘Just the one?’ she came back in mock disappointment. ‘And here I was deceiving myself that I’m much more interesting than that!’
Rafe gave an admiring smile as he appreciated the way Cairo was trying to change the subject. But Rafe had no intention of letting her succeed.
‘Oh, don’t worry, you are extremely interesting,’ he assured her throatily. ‘But you implied last night that it isn’t you Bond is interested in. So if it’s not you, what is it?’
Her smile faded as her gaze became guarded. ‘I really can’t discuss this with you, Rafe—’
‘Oh, but you really can, Cairo,’ Rafe insisted softly, his own gaze compelling.
She shook her head. ‘Not without breaking a confidence, I can’t,’ she told him determinedly.
Rafe’s eyes widened. ‘A confidence with Bond?’ he murmured disbelievingly. ‘You divorced the man three months ago!’ he reminded her.
‘Yes, I did,’ she acknowledged stiffly. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to actually hate him, does it? Or discuss his private business with someone he regards as—’ She broke off, frowning.
‘“He regards as” …?’
‘Never mind,’ Cairo said hurriedly. ‘Lionel and I may be divorced, but I don’t hate him,’ she insisted.
Rafe grimaced. ‘In my experience that’s what usually happens when two people divorce.’
‘Well, it isn’t true in my case,’ Cairo assured him firmly.
How could she possibly hate Lionel when she still felt so responsible for what had gone wrong between them? She couldn’t. But without telling Rafe the whole sorry story of her marriage, of the fact that she had married Lionel while still in love with him, she couldn’t even begin to explain her feelings of guilt …
‘I can see that,’ Rafe grated harshly. ‘Why bother to divorce him if you’re going to come running every time the man crooks his little finger?’
Her eyes glittered darkly. ‘It isn’t like that!’
‘Then what the hell is it like?’ Rafe demanded incredulously. ‘Last night you gave every impression that meeting Bond again was an ordeal for you, and yet today the two of you seem to have shared a pleasant conversation together!’
Cairo had found meeting Lionel again an ordeal because she had hoped—prayed—that when she ended their marriage, it might finally snap him into doing something about the mess his life had become. Those telephone calls last night, his visit today to ask her for money—yet again—told her that wasn’t the case….
But without revealing everything to Rafe—which she had no intention of doing!—she was never going to persuade him of that. Lionel had managed to hide his gambling addiction from everyone for years, and Cairo certainly couldn’t be the one to betray him now. Not even to convince Rafe that there was nothing between herself and Lionel.
Especially not in order to convince Rafe that there was nothing between herself and Lionel! Last night had shown her all too clearly just how dangerously susceptible she still was to Rafe….
‘I really would prefer it if you stayed out of my life, Rafe.’
‘And what if I would prefer to remain in it?’ he challenged.
‘This is ridiculous—’
‘I agree,’ Rafe interrupted.
Cairo scowled at him. ‘Can we just stop playing word games?’
He raised dark brows. ‘What other sort of games did you have in mind?’
She gave an impatient snort. ‘I’ve never particularly liked playing games of any sort,’ she snapped. ‘Even as a child I was always the one that landed on the snake!’
Rafe gave an appreciative grin. ‘I like you in this feisty mood, Cairo.’
‘I don’t want you to like me, Rafe!’ she insisted as she moved away from him to resume her packing, but not as neatly as she had earlier, instead throwing things haphazardly inside the suitcase.
Rafe continued to look at her through narrowed lids for several long minutes.
She didn’t seem overly upset by Lionel Bond’s visit. More resigned than anything else.
But resigned to what?
CHAPTER TEN
‘HE’s absolutely gorgeous, Margo!’ Cairo told her sister warmly as she stood up to hand baby Simon back into his mother’s arms.
They had left the villa and the South of France without further incident, arriving back in England in the early evening, with a car waiting there for them. Rafe had driven them all to the clinic to visit Margo. The proud father was there, too, of course, Jeff looking and sounding much more relaxed now that the danger was over for both Margo and the baby.
It certainly wasn’t the time for Cairo to remonstrate with either of them for failing to tell her of Rafe’s ownership of the villa and his subsequent surprise arrival!
Rafe had brought in Daisy’s small suitcase so that the little girl could return home with her father, leaving Cairo with the uncomfortable feeling he was going to insist on driving her to her flat. A feeling that was confirmed a short time later as he took his leave of Margo and Jeff at the same time as Cairo did, his hand firmly on her elbow as they walked down the carpeted corridor together.
‘I’m sure you have somewhere else to go, Rafe, so—’
‘Don’t even think about trying to get rid of me just yet,’ Rafe warned softly as he pushed the door open for her to go outside into the early evening sunshine. ‘In fact, why don’t the two of us go out to dinner? You weren’t expecting to be back in England for several more days, so you won
’t have anything in your apartment for us to eat,’ he reasoned.
Cairo frowned up at him as he unlocked the doors of the sporty black car. ‘Despite what you seem to have assumed to the contrary, it was never my intention to have dinner with you this evening, either at my flat or anywhere else!’
He gave a mocking smile as he opened her door for her. ‘That isn’t very friendly of you, Cairo, after I’ve gone to the trouble of transporting you back to England so quickly and efficiently.’
‘It wasn’t just me, Rafe, you also transported yourself and Daisy back….’
‘Ah, but as you pointed out earlier today, I really needed to stay in Cannes. I don’t even have a hotel reservation for tonight yet …’ He quirked dark brows at her.
Cairo glared at him. ‘That’s your problem, Rafe, not mine.’
‘I’m sure you could make it yours, too, if you really wanted to….’
She stared at him in disbelief. Was Rafe actually flirting with her? It certainly seemed as if he was!
‘But I really don’t want to,’ Cairo told him dryly. ‘So could you either give me my suitcase from the boot of the car so that I can get a taxi home, or drive me there yourself?’
‘I’m driving you there myself, of course,’ Rafe stated.
Cairo continued to eye him suspiciously as she slid into the passenger seat, not trusting him in this mood at all.
But what could he do, really? She didn’t even have to invite him into her flat if—
There was no ‘if’ about it—she wasn’t going to invite Rafe into her flat at all!
‘Very nice,’ Rafe murmured approvingly as he stood in the hallway looking at the simplicity of the sitting-room in Cairo’s apartment, liking the cream carpet and terracotta-coloured suite, the paintings on the walls all bright and cheerful, too.
Cairo stood firmly in the doorway blocking his entrance to the room. ‘Okay, Rafe, you’ve delivered my suitcase, as you insisted on doing,’ she bit out, still irritated that she had lost that particular argument. ‘Now it’s time for you to leave.’
He put the case down. ‘You could show your gratitude by offering me a glass of wine….’
Her foot tapped impatiently. ‘I was quite capable of carrying my own suitcase!’
Hot Nights with a Spaniard (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases) Page 10