Cairo was totally unnerved now, her hand tingling from the touch of his lips against her skin, every part of her completely aware of him, her breasts feeling full and aroused, the beginnings of warmth between her thighs.
It was the adrenalin, the excitement of a successful opening night, and not Rafe who was the cause of that, she told herself impatiently as she pointedly removed her hand from his. ‘Perhaps we could meet some time tomorrow instead?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I believe you already have a luncheon engagement at one o’clock.’
Cairo had wondered if he had overheard all of her conversation with Lionel. Now she knew.
‘We could meet later in the afternoon,’ Cairo offered briskly. ‘I don’t need to be back at the theatre until seven o’clock in the evening.’
‘If that’s the best you can do.’
He couldn’t exactly blame Cairo for her reluctance to meet and talk with him again. Not after the way he had treated her three weeks ago!
She looked at him searchingly. ‘Rafe, what’s all this about?’
Rafe debated how much to tell her now. This was hardly the time or the place for the conversation he wanted to have with Cairo, and he should have realized that before writing the message on the card he’d had delivered with the yellow roses.
He straightened. ‘Redemption, Cairo,’ he admitted huskily. ‘It’s about redemption.’
Her eyes widened, her expression wary. ‘Now you really have intrigued me, Rafe,’ she said slowly.
‘Enough to change your mind about supper?’
She hesitated. ‘Maybe,’ she finally allowed cautiously.
Rafe smiled. ‘I have a suite at The Ritz if you should decide to join me later, after all …’
She would be stupid to do so, Cairo knew. Stupid, as well as certifiably insane. But then, her feelings for Rafe had never been exactly sane in the first place!
‘We’ll see,’ she answered noncommittally. ‘Although it could be very late,’ she added as the revelry outside seemed to become even louder.
‘Any time will be fine.’
Cairo really was intrigued by this conversation, couldn’t even begin to imagine what Rafe wanted to talk to her about. But the question was, was she intrigued enough to put herself in the position of joining Rafe at his hotel later on tonight—or tomorrow morning?
Her brain told her a firm no.
But her heart—and every other tinglingly aware part of her—said yes!
‘As I said, we’ll see,’ she repeated. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have to change before joining the others….’
It was the best he could hope for, Rafe knew. In fact, in the circumstances, it was more than he had hoped for!
He knew now that he bore a large part of the blame for Cairo having been hurt enough eight years ago to end their relationship. Pamela might have been the instrument of that hurt, but Cairo had only been twenty; he’d been sophisticated enough in the ways of women, had known Pamela well enough, to have foreseen what had happened and stopped it before Cairo had become involved, too. Then getting drunk and sleeping with Pamela on Cairo’s wedding day had only confused matters even more—he should never have done that as it had given Pamela even more ammunition against Cairo.
‘Of course,’ he accepted lightly. ‘Enjoy the rest of your party, Cairo—you deserve it.’
But Cairo didn’t enjoy the party, or the club they all spilled out to once they had left the theatre; instead she remained totally distracted by her earlier conversation with Rafe and could think of little else.
Why did Rafe need redemption?
Or perhaps it wasn’t his own redemption he had been referring to …?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS almost three o’clock in the morning when Rafe opened the door of his hotel suite to Cairo, although the challenging expression on her face as she swept past him and into the sitting-room wasn’t exactly encouraging.
She looked gorgeous, of course, her hair loose down the length of her spine, the green off-the-shoulder, knee-length dress clinging to all of her beautiful curves, the sheerness of the material clearly outlining the firm thrust of her breasts. Her legs were long and silky smooth, her feet thrust into matching green high-heeled sandals.
Gorgeous and very self assured—and not a little annoyed, Rafe acknowledged ruefully as he saw the flush of anger in her cheeks and her glittering eyes as she stood facing him across the room.
‘Would you like to sit down?’ he invited.
‘I’m not staying,’ she snapped.
She was very annoyed, Rafe realized regretfully. Mainly with him, but a little with herself, he would guess—for having come here at all….
‘Have you had enough champagne or would you care for some more?’ He indicated the bottle he’d had cooling in an ice-bucket on the table for the last two hours, along with two fluted glasses.
Cairo eyed Rafe impatiently, most of that impatience directed at herself as she felt herself responding to how devastatingly handsome he looked.
His overlong dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he had been running his fingers through it before she arrived, and he had removed his dinner jacket and bow tie, the white silk evening shirt fitting perfectly over his wide shoulders, the black trousers tailored to powerful hips and the long length of his legs.
‘No, thanks,’ she refused. ‘As I said, I’m not staying.’ She looked at him narrowly. ‘You made an intriguing remark earlier, Rafe—something about redemption?—and I want to know what you meant by it.’
He grimaced. ‘Do you mind if I have some?’ He indicated the champagne.
‘Knock yourself out.’
This was going to be harder than he had imagined, Rafe thought as he moved to uncork the bottle and poured some of the pink champagne into a glass, taking a slow sip before turning back to face her.
At twenty Cairo had been very young, as well as very naïve and trusting; now she was eight years older and looked as if she trusted very little any more—especially anything to do with him!
‘It’s very late, Rafe,’ she pointed out as she moved to do what she had said she didn’t want to do, and sat down in one of the armchairs. ‘And I really am very tired.’ She gave a weary sigh, leant her head back against the chair and closed her eyes.
Rafe could see the truth of that now that her cheeks were no longer flushed and he couldn’t see her eyes sparkling with temper. Also, that air of vulnerability he had noticed about her three weeks ago was back in evidence.
An impression that was instantly dispelled as she opened her eyes and straightened in the chair, ready for the attack. ‘So, what did you want to say to me, Rafe?’
So much. And yet so little. The whole sum of what Rafe wanted to say to Cairo could be said in three words. Just three little words. But he was getting ahead of himself, he cautioned; Cairo would probably laugh in his face if he said those particular words to her now without bothering to explain….
He moved to sit in the chair opposite hers. ‘First of all we have to go back eight years—’
‘Why do we?’ She tensed. ‘It was all so long ago, and surely has no bearing on our lives now?’
‘It has every bearing on here and now,’ he insisted. ‘Cairo, when I left you three weeks ago, instead of returning to Cannes, I flew back to the States.’
So that was why he hadn’t been in Cannes to collect his award himself, Cairo realized guardedly. But what of it? What possible interest could it be to her what Rafe had done three weeks ago, or at any other time, for that matter?
Rafe’s mouth was a thin, uncompromising line. ‘Cairo, I went back to Los Angeles to see Pamela Raines—’
‘Rafe, I don’t want to know who you went to see!’ Cairo told him forcefully as she stood up in an immediate reaction to hearing that name. ‘You are unbelievable, do you know that?’ She glared at him. ‘Not content with having interrupted my holiday with Daisy, you’ve now ruined my first night back at the theatre, too, with your enigmat
ic requests to talk to me! Why don’t you go and ruin someone else’s life, Rafe, and just stay out of mine?’ She was breathing hard with the strength of her emotions. ‘Damn you,’ she finally bit out furiously. ‘How dare you come here and talk to me about Pamela Raines?’
He sat forward in his chair, his expression grim. ‘Cairo, I’m trying to tell you that I did not, nor did I ever, have an affair with Pamela Raines. I only ever slept with her that one time on your wedding day—’
‘That’s a lie, Rafe,’ she interrupted angrily.
‘No. No, it isn’t.’
‘You were having an affair with her while you were still seeing me, dammit!’
‘I know now that you thought I was—’
‘I didn’t think anything, Rafe. Nor did I imagine it,’ Cairo assured him icily. ‘I finished filming early one morning and came to your hotel suite. She— Pamela answered the door. She was stark naked— The bed was a mess— Her clothes were all over the floor—’
‘But where were my clothes, Cairo?’ he put in softly.
‘I—well—wherever you were, you were obviously wearing them!’ she dismissed with a wave of her hand. ‘What does it matter where your clothes were, Rafe?’ She scowled at him darkly. ‘What matters is that you were obviously not wearing them a short time before I arrived so unexpectedly, because you and Pamela had been— God, it still makes me feel ill to know that you—that you were sleeping with both of us at the same time!’
Rafe gave a parody of a smile. ‘Now probably isn’t the right time to point out that what you thought I was doing with both of you had nothing to do with sleeping….’
Cairo’s eyes narrowed to livid slits. ‘Not unless you want me to hit you over the head with that champagne bottle, no!’
Rafe’s smile became a little more genuine. ‘Perhaps you should have done that after you thought you had caught me out with Pamela? At least that way we could have talked this through when I woke up!’
‘I could no more have sat down and talked with you about your affair with Pamela then than I can now—’
‘There was no affair, Cairo,’ Rafe repeated firmly. ‘Not then. And most certainly not now.’
‘You—’
‘Not now. And certainly not eight years ago,’ Rafe reiterated evenly, his gaze steadily holding hers. ‘Pamela had made it more than obvious that was what she wanted, but I wasn’t interested.’
His mouth twisted self-derisively. ‘I was only interested in the red-haired witch who had knocked me off my feet the very first moment I looked at her … You, Cairo,’ he added so that there should be absolutely no doubt in her mind.
Cairo looked at him searchingly for several long seconds, seeing only sincerity in his expression. Sincerity and a plea for her to believe him.
‘So you didn’t go to bed with her that morning?’
‘I didn’t,’ Rafe said patiently. ‘In fact, until you mentioned it three weeks ago, I’d had no idea that that was what you had always believed.’
‘But I know what I saw, Rafe,’ Cairo pointed out. ‘So how do you explain it?’
He stood up restlessly. ‘It was only when you insisted that I had been involved with Pamela for weeks that I even suspected— Don’t you understand, Cairo? What you saw in my hotel room was totally engineered by Pamela!’
Cairo shook her head in denial. ‘Don’t think you can make a fool of me again, Rafe—’
‘I assure you I’m not trying to do that.’ Rafe sighed. ‘That morning at the hotel Pamela charmed one of the housemaids into letting her into my suite before throwing off all her clothes and just sitting there waiting for me to return, absolutely sure that once I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist her.’ He grimaced. ‘Unfortunately, you came to my hotel suite before I did. But, never one to lose an opportunity, Pamela rethought her plan and deliberately turned the situation to her advantage by giving you the impression that she and I had spent the morning in bed together and that I’d been cheating on you with her for weeks!’
Cairo stared at him, sure that what Rafe was saying was too fantastic to be true. And yet, at the same time, it was too fantastic to have been made up, either!
She swallowed hard. ‘Why would she do something like that?’
‘Pamela is well known for wanting—and getting—her own way. For having any man she wants. When she made it obvious that she wanted me, I tried to let her know I wasn’t interested. But I should have known—should have guessed—that Pamela wouldn’t just accept that, that she would do something. I had absolutely no idea what had happened that morning at the hotel, Cairo, which is why I was so totally stunned when we met for lunch and you told me it was over between us. If I’d been thinking more clearly, I should have realised immediately that something was wrong—that you must have had a reason for doing what you did.’
It was incredible!
So incredible it just might be true …?
But if Rafe hadn’t been involved in an affair with Pamela Raines eight years ago, after all …
Cairo looked across at the man she had once loved. At the man she still loved! She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Is all of that really true, Rafe?’
‘I swear that it is,’ he breathed raggedly. ‘The only time I ever stupidly slept with her was because I had already drunk myself practically into insensibility on your wedding day.’
‘What a mess,’ she groaned.
‘Yes,’ Rafe agreed. ‘We’ve wasted eight years, Cairo. Eight long years!’
They had been just as long for Cairo, most of them spent married to a man she could no longer trust, let alone love.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Rafe asked as she continued to stay silent. Why didn’t she say something?
Anything!
Because her silence, now that she knew the truth, was killing him….
She gave him a sad smile. ‘I don’t see that we go anywhere, Rafe.’
He frowned darkly. ‘Why don’t you?’
She shrugged. ‘Obviously Pamela Raines’s lies precipitated the end of our relationship, but I very much doubt that it would have lasted much longer anyway—’
‘How can you say that, Cairo?’ Rafe rasped fiercely, his hands clenching at his sides. ‘How can you possibly know that?’
‘Well, I don’t, of course,’ she allowed. ‘But I think it’s safe to say that our lives were as different then as they are now. You’re the famous Rafe Montero—’
‘You’re the equally famous Cairo Vaughn!’
Cairo grimaced. ‘It’s taken me years to become her, Rafe. When we first met, I was only just starting out, was a relative unknown. It’s only been through hard work that I’ve made a name for myself.’
Rafe looked at her searchingly. ‘Why did you work so hard, Cairo? Why have you made one movie after another, back-to-back sometimes, never seeming to take a break, and always on show, your photograph constantly in one magazine or another?’
Her expression became guarded. ‘You seem to forget that I’ve taken a break the last ten months,’ she reminded him stiffly. ‘Besides, didn’t you tell me three weeks ago that I needed to get back to work in order that the public didn’t forget me?’
Yes, he had told her that. But the coincidence of her taking a break from her career following her parting from Lionel Bond was too obvious to pass without comment….
‘Was your marriage to Bond all you hoped it would be, Cairo?’ Rafe pursued.
‘Obviously not, as we’ve recently divorced,’ she commented unhelpfully.
‘But you were married to him for over seven years—’
‘Rafe, I’m—happy, to have learnt what really happened eight years ago, but that doesn’t entitle you to know anything about my marriage to Lionel,’ Cairo said defensively as she bent to pick up her evening bag from where she had earlier placed it on the arm of the chair. ‘In fact, I think it’s probably time I left—’
‘Cairo, that morning I had gone out shopping to buy you an engagement ring!’
>
Cairo froze.
Absolutely froze.
Rafe couldn’t really have just said—he couldn’t have—
‘It’s here, Cairo,’ he continued raggedly as he picked up his discarded evening jacket to take a small ring-box from one of the pockets. ‘There’s even the receipt here to show you the date that I bought it.’ He held up a neatly folded piece of paper.
Cairo straightened abruptly to eye him in complete shock. Rafe had bought her an engagement ring eight years ago?
‘That day—’ He broke off, briefly closing his eyes before opening them again to look at her. ‘I had intended asking you to marry me when we went out to lunch that day, and I had the ring in my pocket to give you if you said yes. But before I could do so, you told me it was all over between us!’ He shook his head. ‘I was too stunned—was hurting too badly—to even question why you were doing it. By the time I had recovered my senses enough to need those answers, you were already going out with Bond. Then when you announced your engagement to him so quickly, it made, as I thought, any explanations between the two of us completely unnecessary.’
Cairo stared at him, unmoving, almost not breathing.
Rafe’s mouth twisted. ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t carried the ring around with me for years like some lovesick puppy—in fact, if we had still been in the Isle of Man at the time I would probably have hurled the damn thing into the Irish Sea! But I did keep it, Cairo,’ he added huskily. ‘If only as a reminder to myself of just how fickle love can be.’
Cairo swallowed, the blood pounding through her veins so loudly it almost deafened her. ‘Love, Rafe …?’ she finally managed to ask faintly.
His expression softened. ‘I was completely, deeply in love with you, Cairo. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.’
And instead only weeks later Cairo had married another man!
Because she had believed Pamela Raines’s lies.
Because Cairo had been so young and unsure of herself that she had believed the other woman when she’d taunted her that she could never hope to hold the interest of a man like Rafe Montero.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘That—that’s simply unbelievable, Rafe.’
Hot Nights with a Spaniard (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases) Page 14