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

‘How dare I?’ Rafe repeated harshly. ‘Oh, I think you’ll find that where you’re concerned I dare to do a lot of things— No, Cairo!’ He sat forward to place his hand firmly over hers as she went to pick up her evening bag from the table before leaving. ‘If you leave now, the headlines in tomorrow’s newspapers are going to read, “Cairo and Rafe split up after only two days together”.’

‘We’ve never been together—’

‘I remember a time when we were very together,’ he growled.

‘I—’

‘Don’t even think about denying what we once had, Cairo,’ he warned.

‘What I thought we had,’ she corrected tightly.

‘I thought we had it, too,’ he rasped. ‘You must have realized this last two days that I still want you—’

‘Rafe, please don’t—’

‘And you still want me,’ he added softly.

‘I most certainly do not!’ Her face blushed revealingly even as she spoke the lie. For how could Rafe ever doubt that she still wanted him after their lovemaking last night?

His mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘Don’t make me prove it, Cairo.’

The passionate heat in the blue of his eyes held her captive, the tension between them unbearable. She was barely breathing. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Was held in the glitter of that blue gaze like a fawn mesmerized by the headlights of an approaching car.

Because, amazingly, Rafe was approaching her! Completely unconcerned with their surroundings, and the other diners, he stood up, reached across the table and curved a hand beneath her chin to tilt her face up to his and place his mouth forcefully down on hers.

To claim.

To possess.

To totally steal Cairo’s breath away as she felt herself responding to the hard demand of Rafe’s mouth on hers.

Rafe’s eyes glittered with emotion when he finally raised his head to look down at her. ‘I want to sweep everything off this table before laying you down on it and—’ He broke off suddenly as they were surrounded by a soft round of appreciative applause, closing his eyes briefly before straightening to turn and give a brief, ironic bow to the diners who were smiling at the two of them indulgently. ‘Scrap that previous headline,’ he muttered as he resumed his seat. ‘“Cairo and Rafe can’t keep their hands off each other” would probably be more appropriate!’

Cairo was dumbstruck, totally stunned by the unexpectedness of Rafe’s kiss.

And by her own aching response….

Because for the time that Rafe’s mouth had possessed hers she had totally forgotten their surroundings, would probably have helped him sweep the plates and glasses from the table-top before pulling him down on it and making love with him!

‘How could you?’ she finally gasped shakily, a brief, embarrassed glance around the restaurant telling her that the other diners—having obviously enjoyed the show!—had now gone back to their own meals and conversation. ‘That was absolutely— Rafe, how could you?’ she said again.

It was more a question of how could he not, Rafe realised as he picked up his glass and took a much-needed swallow of the champagne. The challenge thrown down, he simply hadn’t been able to stop himself.

The problem was that Cairo made him forget everything else but her.

Being with her.

Making love with her.

And he still did want to make love with her—desperately; his body was hard and aching with that need right now. But one glance at Cairo’s pale, accusing face told him that was as likely to happen, following that very public display, as snow in August!

Although surely it had to snow somewhere in the world in August….

His mouth twisted into a humourless smile. ‘Perhaps we should just put it down to your own fatalistic allure.’

Cairo glared at him. ‘And perhaps we should just put it down to your need to humiliate me!’

Rafe winced. ‘Cairo—’

‘Don’t bother trying to deny it, Rafe, because you know that’s exactly what you did.’ She picked up her bag, her face flushed with anger now, and her eyes glittering darkly. ‘I think we’ll just stick with the original headline, hmm?’ With one last fiercely scathing glance she stood up and left the table, her head held high as she made her way through the restaurant to where the maître d’ held the door open for her leave.

Well, that certainly went well, Rafe, he congratulated himself dourly as he threw the rest of the champagne in his glass to the back of his throat before refilling it. The chances of Cairo now letting him anywhere near her again, let alone making love with her, were once more as likely as that snow in August!

Not good enough odds, Rafe decided as he threw some money down on the table to pay for their meal before following Cairo, his expression grim.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RAFE caught up with Cairo as she stood on the pavement outside trying to flag down an available cab, something apparently not that easy to find since the new regulation banning the use of private cars from the inner city roads had increased the demand.

‘Would it help if I apologized?’

Cairo glanced round sharply at the sound of Rafe’s voice behind her, then glared at him in the semi-darkness. ‘Not in the least,’ she informed him coldly, before turning back to look for a taxi with its light on, at the same time completely aware of the fact that Rafe had moved to stand beside her.

‘Cairo, at least let me drive you home—’

‘And give you the chance to humiliate me yet again?’ she snapped. ‘I’d rather walk!’ She began to do exactly that.

Rafe fell into step beside her. ‘Cairo, you still haven’t had hardly anything to eat—’

‘And whose fault is that?’ she accused as she came to an abrupt halt, positively bristling with anger at him. ‘I went out to dinner with you in the first place completely against my better judgement—and look how right my reservations proved to be!’ She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘Just face it, Rafe, you and I have absolutely nothing left to say to each other.’

Rafe totally disagreed; the amount of things they had never said to each other would fill a football stadium!

He drew in a ragged breath. ‘We used to be able to communicate without words—’

‘Is that what all this is about, Rafe?’ she challenged. ‘If all you want is to go to bed with me again, then why don’t you just say so?’ Her breasts quickly rose and fell in her agitation.

Because it wasn’t all he wanted, dammit! But quite what he did want Rafe wasn’t sure of, either—yet. The only thing he did know, now that he had spent time with Cairo again, was that he wasn’t willing to let another eight years pass before he saw or spoke to her again.

‘And if it is?’ he rasped.

She stared at him for several tense seconds. ‘Fine,’ she finally said. ‘Let’s go back to my flat and have sex, then, shall we?’ She turned back in the direction Rafe had parked the car.

Rafe stood unmoving, a frown creasing his brow.

He did want Cairo. He wanted to make slow, leisurely love to her again. But not like this. Never like this.

She stopped several feet away to turn back and face him, auburn brows raised in mocking query. ‘Changed your mind, Rafe?’ she taunted.