Bride in a Gilded Cage

A compulsion rose and gathered force deep within her; there was only one thing to do, one place she wanted to be, one person she wanted to be with. There had only been one person since Rafael had kissed her on her eighteenth birthday.

A deeply feminine part of her wanted to make her mark on this man and she couldn’t deny it any more. That was what it came down to. And she didn’t have time to think about the ramifications or her precious integrity.

Rafael stood looking down into the dying embers of the fire Juanita must have lit earlier. He took a deep sip from the drink he’d just poured himself with a shaking hand. A shaking hand.

He grimaced, his head was in a tangled knot and his body burning thanks to that temptress upstairs. He tried to articulate to himself why he’d let her get to him again. Why hadn’t he just tipped her back onto his bed? Right now he could be slaking his lust in a very satisfactory way. Exorcising this gnawing need in his body.

It was because he wanted Isobel so badly that he couldn’t think straight. He’d realised in that moment upstairs that he’d never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted her. Not even Ana, and he’d thought he loved her. And when he thought about the implications of that—

He heard a sound come from the door and tensed.

Isobel pushed the door to the main reception room open to see the tall figure of Rafael standing in front of the fire. She saw him lift his hand and take a drink. And then he said harshly, ‘Go away, Isobel. I’m not in the mood for any more of your games.’

Isobel flinched, and her heart ached in a very peculiar way. She came in and shut the door behind her, her pulse flowing thick and heavy through her veins as she took in the sheer breadth and power of Rafael’s body in the black tuxedo. There was something curiously vulnerable about his stance.

He still didn’t turn around, but seemed to have eyes in the back of his head when he said, ‘I thought I told you—’

‘I heard you.’ Isobel cut him off softly. ‘But I’m not leaving.’ This was a pivotal moment. She knew it, and trembled all over with the knowledge of it. The truth was she didn’t have the strength required to deny her attraction any more. She didn’t have the strength to worry about what would happen if she allowed herself to be intimate with him. Her need for him was too great.

Rafael tipped back his head, drained whatever was in his glass and placed it too carefully on the mantelpiece. Slowly he turned around.

All Isobel could see was those dark eyes across the room, boring into her, through her. Burning her. He’d ripped open his bow tie and it dangled from his neck; the top buttons of his shirt were undone. Her breath constricted in her throat.

Rafael crossed his arms across his formidable chest. ‘Come to hurl more insults, Isobel? Play the tease again?’

Isobel moved forward, but it felt as if she was wading through treacle. She stopped a few feet away from Rafael, her heart racing even harder. Her skin felt hot and tight, stretched across her bones. Her shoulders felt stiff.

‘I…’

‘I…what?’ Rafael all but sneered, and moved as if to turn away again.

Instinctively, Isobel moved, too, and reached out, catching his jacket, feeling the strength of his arm through the material.

He stilled and she stopped dead.

‘I…I’m sorry.’

Silence throbbed between them. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. Isobel knew that now. She let her hand drop but felt a fledgling sense of encouragement when he didn’t turn away again.

Isobel bit her lip and then said in a rush, ‘I never meant to be any kind of tease. I shouldn’t have said…what I just said. I’ve been fighting you…fighting myself…and I can’t any more.’ She looked up at him, into his deep, unfathomable eyes, and spoke from the deepest part of her. ‘I want you, Rafael…’

A harsh mocking smile touched Rafael’s mouth, sending splinters into Isobel’s heart.

‘You want me?’

She nodded.

‘I think I need you to clarify that statement, Isobel. We wouldn’t want any confus

ion, would we? I don’t like being called a Neanderthal, or being reduced to such caveman responses. Perhaps it’s easier for you to sleep with a bleeding heart liberal than the corporate shark you believed me to be?’

Isobel winced again and looked down, unable to take the censure in his eyes even though she knew she deserved it. She looked up again and had the feeling that this moment was going to be a test of everything she was, everything she held dear.

All her preconceived notions had changed so much; the fact was that even if Rafael hadn’t proved himself to be a man of integrity she knew she would still be standing here right now. The world she’d so dreaded coming back to had become something else entirely.

‘I want you to make love to me, Rafael.’ She swallowed painfully. ‘I just…wasn’t ready before. I couldn’t—’

Rafael jerked a hand out of his pocket and slashed it through the air, cutting her off. ‘Enough with the stuttering explanation, Isobel. It’s cute, but unnecessary. You’re here to tell me that you’re ready to go to bed with me—is that it?’