‘You didn’t tell me you had two stately homes!’ Harriet exclaimed, with barely concealed incredulity at such a crucial oversight.
‘This was the first Irish property I bought, and the house was secondary to the location and included with the land. It’s not a stately home; it’s tiny.’
Tiny? Harriet reckoned the house might well have a good ten bedrooms. She fed Samson, who was an instant hit with the housekeeper. Already exhausted by the surfeit of attention he had received from female fans at the racecourse, and with an appetite much impaired by the numerous titbits he had enjoyed, the tiny chihuahua settled down for a snooze.
Rafa
el offered Harriet a tour of the stud. It was a big operation, with orderly lines of neatly painted buildings, extensive all-weather gallops and beautifully tended lush green acres of land with smart fences and gates. She could not help being impressed to death. He appeared to employ a large staff, for the stables were spotless and the horses perfectly groomed. It took enormous wealth to maintain such high standards. She quite saw why he would find it a challenge to view the livery yard they shared as a serious business venture.
‘Are you staying with me tonight?’
In the quiet of one of the barns that direct question took Harriet unawares. Her colour warming, she collided involuntarily with smouldering dark golden eyes.
Rafael closed lean brown hands slowly over hers and drew her to him with measured assurance. ‘When Fearless crossed the finishing line I wanted to celebrate alone with you. Never has the role of host been less welcome.’
Her throat was tight with nerves and her breath was feathering in her throat. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her so badly her body ached with ferocious tension. Driven by an impulse stronger than she was, she leant forward. He looked down at her with intoxicating intensity and then, without any further warning of his masculine intent, he hauled her close and tasted her readily parted lips with explicit urgency. She was breathless with surprise, but exhilarated by his unashamed passion. Her fingers sank into the springy depths of his luxuriant black hair, making it all the easier for him to swing her back against the wall. As always unpredictable in his approach, his initial fervour was abandoned for a deliciously provocative exploration that melted her like honey on a hot griddle.
Lifting his tousled dark head, stunning eyes glittering like diamonds in sunlight, Rafael vented a roughened laugh. Every time he touched her he was startled by the raw charge of lust she roused in him. ‘We’re acting like teenagers.’
Her hands, which had dropped of necessity to his shoulders, sank down to the lapels of his designer suit jacket and tugged him closer again.
Her silent rebellion made his sensual mouth quirk. He wanted her there and then. He didn’t want to wait. But his innate self-discipline triumphed. He was exasperated by the very strangeness of that momentary desire to act on a foolish impulse. Closing one of her hands in his, he eased her away from the wall. ‘The grooms are waiting in the staff room to celebrate Fearless’s arrival home.’
Ready colour flared over her cheeks and for an instant she could not recognise herself in the bold woman who had recklessly attempted to pull him back to her. But then in more ways than one Rafael Cavaliere Flynn was a revelation to her, she conceded, still all of a quiver from that sensational kissing session. No man had ever made her feel that hot with just a kiss. She was tingling, crazily aware of every sensitised inch of her own body.
They walked back through the yard to the house in silence. The night breeze was cool on her flushed skin. The silence didn’t bother her. She discovered that she had no doubts at all, and wondered if that was because she simply could not muster sufficient concentration to think straight. She wanted to laugh: she felt incredibly happy.
Rafael cupped her cheekbones and reclaimed her mouth to taste her again. Linking his fingers lightly with hers, he led her up the heavily carved staircase. Her heartbeat started to race. She tried hard to focus on her surroundings. Her bemused gaze registered majestic furniture, grand paintings and a treasure trove of objets d’art. Pushing open a door, he stood back for her to precede him.
They were in a bedroom, and she could not understand why that far from unexpected development should fill her with such immense self-consciousness.
‘You’re shy…’ Rafael breathed in wonderment. ‘I’m not accustomed to that quality in a woman.’
‘I’m not shy,’ Harriet asserted in a defensive rush. ‘Just not used to this situation…I mean, you…I mean—’
‘You can’t be afraid of me.’ Capturing her within the circle of his arms, Rafael kissed her absolutely breathless.
But his very ability to set her on fire with one kiss put him into a class of his own—and not one she had previously encountered.
‘I wanted you the first moment I saw you,’ he confided in a husky undertone.
‘Watch it…you sound romantic,’ she said breathlessly.
‘I don’t do romance. Reality is infinitely more exciting.’ He turned her round and slowly, carefully, ran down the zip on her dress.
Cooler air feathered her spine. He brushed aside the parted edges and lifted her copper hair to let his expert mouth circle the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. A tight knot of wicked anticipation formed low in her tummy. She drew in a shallow fast breath. The dress slithered to her ankles with a soft silken swoosh. He turned her back to face him. His intent gaze roamed with unabashed masculine admiration from the swollen pout of her soft pink lips to the burgeoning fullness of creamy breasts cupped in apricot lace.
‘You’re gorgeous…’
Harriet was trembling. ‘No, I’m not—’
‘You’re not listening…you’re gorgeous, a mhilis.’
Emboldened by that compliment, she resisted the urge to wrap concealing arms over her lush curves and stepped out of her shoes instead. He lifted her up into his arms and settled her down on the side of the bed. Stepping back from her he shed his jacket and tie with careless grace and let them lie where they fell.
‘You’re untidy,’ she said, half under her breath, only just managing to stop herself from picking up the discarded clothes that offended her ingrained preference for order.
An irreverent grin curved his handsome mouth. ‘I was a very spoilt child.’