The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection. Кейт Хьюит
One tabloid had, in fact, tried to pin that label on Rafe. It hadn’t stuck, but Lexie suspected that was only because it lacked originality or alliteration.
“Don’t try to make this about me.” His voice was cold, as though she’d hit a nerve.
“Well, don’t try to sully the relationship Adam and I have.”
A look of scorn passed across his face. “A few letters and e-mails do not constitute a relationship.”
“They constitute more of a relationship than gratuitous sex, which if the stories about you are to be believed—”
“They’re not.”
His vehemence silenced her.
“And even if they were, the difference, Precious, is that my business is no concern of yours. Whereas your business is my concern. At least until I get you back to San Philippe and offload you onto Adam.”
“Offload me?”
“Wrong word, sorry.” His offhand apology only incensed her further.
“No, it wasn’t. Offload me is exactly what you meant. I’ll save you the trouble for tonight.” She’d had more than enough of his company for one evening. Opening her door, she climbed out and stalked down the driveway. The cool night air was the perfect antidote to the tension in the car, and she forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Behind her, a car door shut. Moments later, the engine purred to life, the car eased alongside her, and the window slid down. “Get in. I’ll drive you.”
“I’m walking, so you may as well stop following me. Consider me offloaded.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?”
He made no pretence this time that he’d used the wrong word. “Yes. Childishly ridiculous.”
Lexie clenched her jaw and walked faster, then stumbled in the high strappy sandals, which were fine for the smooth dance floor, but definitely weren’t made for striding on driveways. The low rumble of masculine laughter sounded from within the car.
She stopped and whirled to face him, then bent to take off her shoes, tossing them one at a time through the car window and onto the seat beside him. She pulled off the wig too, and it followed her shoes into his car.
As her hair unfurled around her shoulders, his smile suddenly disappeared. She turned and, ignoring his call to her, darted into the lightly wooded area bordering the driveway. She’d grown up here, had played, whenever she’d been allowed to escape, amongst these very trees. Some of those times of escape had even been at night. A girl took her freedom where she could. She scarcely needed the occasional shafts of light that filtered through from the driveway lamps.
She caught a sound behind her and stilled, alert and listening, her senses heightened. “Alexia.” Her name sounded on the night, low and clear. “Cut this out and come back to the car. Now.”
He was not happy. Lexie smiled. “Or what? You’ll make me? I don’t think so, Rafe.”
His silence was ominous.
Lexie’s heart beat faster. “I’m fine.” She slipped behind a tree. “You drive. I’ll make my own way.” She darted for another tree, stopped and listened again.
She heard nothing, but caught the faintest trace of his cologne. He was close. She waited in the deepest shadows she could find, her shoulder pressed against the roughened bark of an ancient oak, and held herself perfectly still, kept her breathing quiet and even.
From behind, a strong hand clamped around her arm, and without thought a scream started in the back of her throat. The hand swept up to gently cover her mouth, cutting off the incipient sound. She was pulled back against a broad chest. “Do not scream.” The softened command was spoken clearly into her ear. “It’s only me—” his breath was warm on her skin “—and the very last thing we need tonight is for security to come.”
She swallowed and nodded. The hand lowered from her mouth, but she was still clamped against that broad chest. It was the second time in the space of an hour she’d been pressed against its hard contours. It didn’t feel like the body she would have expected from the profligate prince. Sure, he was tall and lean. She’d figured that build, combined with the occasional gym workout and exceptional tailoring, was enough to give the fine line to the clothes he wore. But the chest and the arms about her spoke of sinew and strength and an intimidating elemental toughness that was eons away from the high life he lived.
“How did you find me?”
“I’ve done my share of nighttime operations.” His arms loosened and he stepped away from her. “You, Precious, were a piece of cake.”
Of course. All men in San Philippe, including the princes, served two years in the armed forces. Rafe, from memory, had served even longer, spending time in each of the three military services.
“Now we’re going back to the car.” She heard the carefully reined-in temper beneath his quiet words. “And we’re going to the house.”
She nodded again. It was definitely time to get the willful streak she’d worked so hard to conquer back under control. She was achieving nothing letting Rafe goad her. “I was going anyway. Once I’d cooled off.” Which she’d done now, emotionally and physically. She suppressed a shiver.
As they turned for the car, a jacket, warmed with the heat of Rafe’s body and imbued with his subtle masculine scent, came to rest on her shoulders. The silk lining caressed the bare skin of her arms.
“Covering me up?”
“Warming you up. I personally have no problem with a little skin. But I will have a problem with my father and my brother if I take you back sick.”
“Chivalrous to the end.”
Unexpected, Rafe’s rich, deep chuckle sounded on the air, eroding her resentment and warming her, against her will, as much as his jacket.
But the resentment was back in full force by the time Lexie reached her bedroom. She shut the door, leaned against it for a second, then crossed to a window and looked out along the shadowy driveway. The driveway, which, after insisting she come back to his car, Rafe had made her walk down. Well, not “make” exactly, but he’d somehow made it seem the only option for her pride. Another besetting sin to add to her list.
He’d idled along beside her, occasionally offering her a ride. She’d refused with the line about not getting into cars with strange men, which had drawn out that unexpected laughter again. In reality the only strange thing about him was the heat—the temper—he ignited in her. He’d talked a little about the car, the ergonomic design, the comfort of the heated leather seats, proving either that he’d lied when he pretended to know nothing about it or that he was lying now as he made up features.
As soon as she reached the house, she’d gone in, leaving him to drive around to the garage and make his own way. Army boy should have no problems with that. Unfortunately.
She sat in front of her dresser and brushed out her hair. Apparently, the hundred strokes a night that Maria, her live-in nanny for the first ten years of her life, had insisted on had been disproved as doing any real good, but sometimes it was just so therapeutic. Lexie caught her flushed reflection in the mirror and made herself take a deep, slow breath.
If only it had been Adam who’d come for her, this mess wouldn’t be unraveling in her hands. She’d be the woman she was supposed to be. She would have stayed by his side for the dinner. She would have stayed in for the night. She would have had nothing to do with Rafe.
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight. Of all people, why Rafe? Twenty-nine, thirty. Why had he come to that same nightclub? Why had he recognized her? And more important, why did she let him make her feel so inept and inadequate and infuriated? “The arrogant, inconsiderate, hypocritical, condescending…prude.”
A shape moved in the mirror