Hot Nights with a Spaniard: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure / Spanish Aristocrat, Forced Bride / Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m willing to take that chance if you are.’

Was she? She could see the logic of what Rafe was saying concerning spiking the guns of the reporter who had followed them today. The two of them appearing together in public this evening would certainly diffuse the exclusivity of any story he might have written. Except the very idea of appearing in public with Rafe as her partner for the evening, so totally aware of him as she now was, was Cairo’s idea of a nightmare!

‘I’ll ask Daisy,’ she repeated firmly. ‘If she wants to go, then we will.’

Rafe could tell by the finality in her tone that it was the best answer he was going to get for now.

‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Go and talk to Daisy now so that I know whether or not I have to call and make my excuses for this evening, after all.’

Rafe made no effort to follow Cairo into the villa, instead moving to sit on one of the chairs on the terrace, needing these few minutes’ respite to bring his throbbing need for her under control.

Impossible when he could practically taste her….

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOU have to believe me, Cairo, when I tell you I had no idea Bond had been invited this evening!’

Cairo knew by the grimness of Rafe’s expression as he looked down at her so intently that he was telling the truth.

Not that she had ever thought otherwise; the two of them might have had their differences in the past, Rafe uncaring of her feelings for him, but she had never found him to be a vindictive man.

Believing what he did, to have deliberately brought her to this party in Cannes knowing Lionel was going to be here, too, would definitely have been vindictive on Rafe’s part!

Until now it had been a surprisingly pleasant evening. Cairo had met up and chatted with several old acquaintances as she sipped the freely flowing champagne, and Daisy was absolutely enthralled with the whole thing as she pointed out people she recognized from films and television.

There had been the usual barrage of photographers outside, of course, an experience Cairo had also found less of an ordeal than she had expected. Rafe had kept a firm hold of her arm and smilingly fended off most of the more personal questions while at the same time keeping an eye out for the man who had followed them earlier today. He wasn’t there, Rafe had informed her as they went into the huge white marquee on Cannes beach where the party was being held.

No doubt the man believed he had enough of an exclusive for one day!

Which he probably did….

Cairo had decided to put him firmly from her mind—along with that earlier, erotic, conversation with Rafe!—once she realized she was actually enjoying herself, having reacquainted herself with several friends that she hadn’t seen since her move to London.

Until she chanced to glance across at the entrance of the marquee and see Lionel making a belated appearance!

‘Maybe he wasn’t invited.’ She sighed, knowing that Lionel was quite capable of inviting himself if he had learnt that Cairo was here, seeing as she had so far evaded all of his previous efforts to see or speak to her.

‘Do you want to leave?’ Rafe asked.

Did she?

Admittedly, seeing Lionel again like this so unexpectedly had been a shock, but if she left now, it would look as if she was running away from an awkward situation. Worse, she would feel as if she was running away!

‘No, I don’t want to leave,’ she answered Rafe firmly. ‘Let’s just continue to circulate, hmm?’ she suggested tautly as she slid her hand into the crook of his arm.

‘Fine with me.’ Rafe nodded as he looked down at her with approval.

Despite her claim that she had nothing suitable to wear, Cairo looked stunningly beautiful this evening, the simple black sheath of a dress she wore giving her a classically elegant appearance when compared to all the glittering gowns being worn by the other women present. Her red hair was loose and silky about her shoulders, her eyes dark and luminous in her lightly tanned face, her lips glossed a challenging red.

Warpaint she might need before this evening was over, Rafe acknowledged heavily as he saw Lionel Bond making his way determinedly towards them.

Her ex-husband came to a halt in front of Cairo, his smile smooth and self-assured. ‘I had no idea you were going to be here this evening, Cairo,’ he greeted lightly. ‘I seem to recall your telling me you hated this sort of thing?’ he added quizzically.

Cairo returned that smile even as her grip tightened on Rafe’s arm and her nails dug into the sleeve of his dinner jacket. ‘I’ve made tonight an exception,’ she replied coolly.

Rafe’s gaze narrowed as he saw the way Bond was looking at Cairo with such warmth. Not entirely surprisingly, he found his own feelings towards her ex were far from friendly.

He could see why she’d been attracted to the man, of course. For not only was Lionel Bond incredibly rich and powerful, he was also six feet tall, still athletically fit in his late forties, with a boyishly handsome face and blond hair tinged a distinguishing grey at the temples.

Yes, Rafe could see the reason Cairo had once been attracted to this man. That she might still be attracted to him, in spite of their recent divorce …?

Cairo was sure that her knees were shaking so much they were actually knocking together! It hadn’t even occurred to her that Lionel might be here this evening. She definitely wouldn’t have come if it had.

And yet …

This first meeting since their divorce, a meeting she had steadfastly avoided in spite of Lionel’s repeated efforts for it to be otherwise, had to have happened at some time, so why not get it over and done with?

The guilt she had carried with her for so long where Lionel was concerned, unable to love him and yet unable to leave him, either, because of that guilt, along with the fear that she might be the reason for his gambling addiction, no longer seemed like quite such a heavy weight as she looked at him now. Lionel looked surprisingly fit and well, and was obviously surviving quite well without her.

Perhaps he really had finally been able to stop the addiction that had for so long threatened to ruin him….

‘I wonder why you’ve made tonight an exception?’ Lionel turned to look at Rafe, his pale grey gaze wide with speculation.

Cairo turned to include Rafe in their conversation. ‘You know Rafe of course …?’

‘Of course.’ Lionel nodded briefly in the younger man’s direction, neither one making any attempt to shake hands.

Cairo couldn’t help but appreciate the differences she could see in the two men as they stood so close together, Rafe so dark and compellingly attractive, Lionel a golden blond and all that was suave and handsomely self-assured.

But the expression of dislike on both men’s faces was identical as hard blue eyes clashed with steely grey!

‘I must say that I would have expected you to be a little more—original, shall we say—in your choice of lover, Cairo,’ Lionel challenged as he looked at Rafe. ‘I had rather hoped I’d taught you to be a little more discerning in your tastes over the years.’

Cairo’s breath caught in her throat at the deliberate insult, and she could feel Rafe’s tension in his arm beneath her hand as he also recognized the directness of Lionel’s attack.

Lionel had never been happy about her previous involvement with Rafe eight years ago, had considered Rafe one of the ‘wild’ set that had dominated Hollywood at the time. But Rafe had matured into a formidable and dangerous opponent in the intervening years, and he looked every bit as suave as Lionel this evening in the tailored black evening suit, snowy white shirt and red bow tie.

She gave her ex-husband a confident smile. ‘There has never been anything wrong with my taste.’

‘Really?’ The intensity of Lionel’s gaze seemed to look for some inclusion of himself in that statement.

‘Yes—really,’ Cairo echoed softly. ‘Now if you’ll excuse us—’

‘You’re looking rather beautiful this evening, Cairo,’ Lionel told her warmly.

‘I— Thank you.’ She gave him a censorious frown.

‘I’m sure Montero agrees with me, don’t you, Montero?’ he added with a mocking glance.