Modern Romance January Books 5-8. Heidi Rice
told you I needed armour tonight.’ He winked. ‘You think it’s better than the Villa Rosetta?’
‘Nothing is better than Alex’s roses,’ she declared loyally. ‘This place is too huge. It’s beautiful, but it’s not a home. The Villa Rosetta is a home—you can sense the love in it.’
Her genuine words touched a raw spot and he refrained from replying by guiding her into the reception hall. A liveried waiter stepped forward with a gleaming silver tray laden with tall champagne flutes.
‘You’re sure you don’t want a drink?’ Rafe teased her.
She shook her head. He passed on the offer as well and walked her further into the room so she could appreciate the gold and marble interior. Her breathy gasps delighted him and he kept walking, aware of heads turning. He carefully avoided eye contact with a couple of the models due at the villa tomorrow. He didn’t want to be interrupted yet. Grace’s face was fascinatingly mobile and it was impossible for her to hide her reactions. Captivated, he pointed out more of the various features—from the tumbling crystal chandeliers to the sparkling waterfall in the centre of the room. But she saw some of the people looking their way and definitely recognised some.
‘Famous people,’ she noted quietly. ‘Rich people.’
‘Rich and famous people.’ He nodded.
‘A Venn diagram of the upper echelon.’ She nodded. ‘And just one outside the circle.’
‘Is that one feeling self-conscious?’
‘Absolutely. But she’s absolutely determined to get over herself.’
He laughed, liking her frankness.
‘Pleasure to see you here, Rafe.’ Toby Winters, a party-hard aristocratic banker with a vast holiday estate on the lake, interrupted them loudly. ‘I heard work on Villa Rosetta is complete. Welcome to the neighbourhood.’
‘Thank you,’ he said calmly. ‘Julia, lovely to see you.’
Julia, Toby’s wife, was too busy looking Grace over to bother answering. Besides, Toby had intervened again.
‘You’re racking up quite the portfolio,’ Toby said. ‘I envy your energy.’
Rafe smiled but tuned into the conversation that was occurring about a foot lower than his eye level, where Julia was interrogating his fish-out-of-water guest.
‘I’m only here because he made me come,’ Grace said.
Oh, Lord. Did she have any idea how that husky comment was going to be interpreted?
Grace had offered Julia a disarming smile, but Julia wouldn’t disarm in any way.
‘He made you?’ Julia’s eyebrows might have risen had her forehead not been fixed in place by the poison she’d injected beneath her skin.
‘I’m working for him.’ Grace blushed. ‘C-currently... Just for...’ She trailed off.
Rafe gritted his teeth to stay serious.
‘You work for Rafe?’ Julia asked archly.
Grace, in her oblivious innocence, nodded.
‘Yes.’ Julia raked Grace over from head to toe with a frigid glare. ‘I can see exactly in what capacity you work for him.’
Because Grace didn’t look like a PA or a secretary or a housekeeper or even a gardener. Julia grabbed her husband’s arm and all but dragged him away. Grace turned shocked eyes on Rafe, her pretty skin now stained scarlet.
‘She thinks I’m...’
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. And she was blushing again. Rafe threw his head back and laughed. She was stunned at Julia’s interpretation. That meant she was even more naive and innocent than he’d already suspected. In her skirt and floral shirt she’d looked sweetly gorgeous. In the killer white dress she looked both voluptuous and shy and it made for a mouth-watering combination. But he wanted to ease her embarrassment now. So he opted to tease.
‘A paid escort?’ He nodded. ‘I believe so. You were the one who answered the question.’
‘It’s this dress.’ She put her hand up to hide that glorious cleavage. ‘I told you it was indecent.’ She paused as a thought struck her and she blinked rapidly. ‘Why would they think you would require the services of a paid escort?’
The compliment hidden in there was so unguarded it made it all the more touching. Something was seriously wrong with him. He could not be going crazy with lust for some random woman he’d found wandering in his garden...
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he answered idly. ‘You weren’t exactly keen on being my date. I had to pressure you to come.’
And, yes, he’d meant her to catch that lame double entendre that Julia had already picked up on. He’d like nothing more than to make Grace come.
She flushed even more beautifully. ‘Because I don’t know you. Anyway, you didn’t ask me because you wanted to date me. You wanted to pay me back for ruining your suit.’
‘Did I?’
She stared up at him, her eyes melting. ‘Stop it. You’re an appalling flirt. It’s like you can’t help yourself.’
Right now it seemed he couldn’t. ‘Who says I’m flirting?’
Rafe watched Grace roll her eyes with outlandish expressiveness and then she glanced past him. ‘I’m hungry. Isn’t there any food?’
‘People are here to be seen, not to scoff.’
‘Heaven forbid they be seen munching.’ She looked about some more before a small pout of disappointment drew his attention to her lips. ‘I think I’ll have a drink after all.’
He signalled a passing waiter and lifted a flute of champagne off the tray for her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘One won’t hurt me.’
More people came over—offering congratulations and conversation, soliciting his attention and seeking to satisfy their own curiosity. Grace was oddly quiet as he chatted, offering only a nod as he introduced her to them as his friend. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting how swiftly the champagne was disappearing from her glass. She was sipping to stop herself from speaking, he just knew it. And the sparkle in her eyes was growing brighter by the second. Turning abruptly, he excused them both from the company and walked her towards the open doorway for some fresh air.
‘They all want something from you.’ Grace drained the last drop from the crystal flute. ‘Honestly, they were all over you like some hideous disease. Every last one, sucking up.’
He was the one wanting to suck up. He couldn’t take his eyes from her mouth and he really needed to get a grip. ‘Everybody wants something from me. Attention. Money,’ he said dryly. Everything always came back to money. And he was under no illusion that if he had none, those people wouldn’t come within fifty feet of him.
‘I don’t want either of those things,’ she said cheerfully.
No, it seemed she might not. But maybe he could make her change her mind on the attention front.
‘Let’s go look at the lake. It must be fireworks time soon.’ She walked out the wide-flung doors but came to an abrupt halt on the patio. ‘Who’s that guy?’ she whispered loudly, nodding her head in the direction of a tall, grey-haired man icily glaring at Rafe from further along the marble patio.
Rafe met the man’s stare for a second, then deliberately turned away. ‘No one important.’
Maurice Butler would never again have any importance in his life.
‘Yeah, right.’ She smothered a laugh. ‘If looks could kill, you’d both be dead.’
‘He’s