A Fling to Steal Her Heart

Stop right there. She’s been hurt once. You can’t risk putting her through that again.

No, he couldn’t. It was his role as a friend to keep her safe, which meant putting some barriers up between them.

CHAPTER SIX

‘THANK GOODNESS FOR FRIDAYS.’ Isabella slammed the front door shut and stared along the hallway.

‘You didn’t even do a full week,’ Raphael called from the kitchen at the far end. ‘Come on. I’ve been waiting for you to get home so we can have a drink.’

‘Good idea.’ She was entitled to one after the hectic few days she’d spent on the ward.

‘Dinner’s not far off.’ Raphael’s glass of red wine with dinner was a nightly ritual. Another French habit he’d picked up from his family back in Avignon.

At the door into the kitchen she paused, gazed at Rafe as he stirred a sauce in a pot while at the same time squeezing garlic into it. She hadn’t seen him so relaxed. It suited him. ‘That smells divine.’ Beat take-out any night of the week.

‘Boeuf Bordelaise.’

‘Yum.’ So was the sight before her. ‘What happened to heading to Cardiff today? Isn’t that why you took the afternoon off?’

His shrug was a little stiff. Not so relaxed now she was here? ‘No rush. The conference proper doesn’t start till nine tomorrow. I’ll head away first in the morning. Won’t miss much if I’m a bit late.’

Warmth filled her. It wouldn’t be a night alone after all. ‘Cool. I’ll get changed.’ That wine was sounding better and better. She’d spent an hour with Carly, discussing the wedding, and love. She’d mostly listened, trying to ignore the flare of sadness that she wouldn’t be walking down another aisle any time soon. There’d also been her selfish wish that Carly didn’t have a man to rush home to, could go out on the town with her. But deep down, she was more than happy for her friend, and got over her funk quickly.

Up three stairs and she hesitated. Again it felt as though the ceiling was coming down on top of her and the walls crowding in. ‘That colour has got to go.’ Or she was more tired than she’d realised. She headed upward again, in a hurry to get away from the darkness.

‘Izzy?’ Raphael had come along the hall and was looking up at her. ‘What are you on about?’

‘That magenta is hideous. It’s so dark and brooding, makes the hall seem smaller than it really is.’ Not even the cream paint of the stair rails softened the atmosphere, instead accentuated all that was wrong with the paintwork.

He shrugged. ‘Like I said the other day, changing it is on the list. I just don’t happen to have forty-eight hours in every day.’

‘When you’ve poured that wine can you get out the colour schemes you said came with the place?’ Not waiting for an answer, she continued upstairs.

‘Oui, madame.’

They’d never got around to the French week, but it didn’t really matter since they flipped from English to French and back again all the time.

Pausing, she looked back down at Raphael. ‘I have more free time than you, and I like redecorating.’ She could help until she moved. When she found some free time that was. ‘I’ll wow you with my skills.’

‘Oh, no. You are not going to paint my hallway.’

‘Why not? It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing before.’ Being useful, instead of feeling a bit redundant, might help her sleep at night, too. ‘Find those charts.’

His mouth twitched. ‘You know how to make a man feel guilty.’

He had to be pulling her leg. He’d be more than happy to have the problem taken out of his hands, and having her do that shouldn’t be getting him in a twist. ‘You can’t come up with a reason for me not to do it, can you?’ Fist pumping the air, she grinned. ‘Love it when I win.’

Raphael shook his head at her before heading back down the hall.

There was a small pile of charts on the table when she returned showered and in clean clothes. ‘What are these?’ she asked, tapping some pages of notes.

‘The interior design suggestions that came with the house. Like I said, I’m not the only one who hasn’t got around to doing up this place.’

‘It’s not everyone’s idea of fun,’ she conceded, flicking through the pages and pausing at a design for a new kitchen layout. ‘Wow, I like this.’ Glancing around the kitchen, she nodded. ‘Lighter for one. Far more functional for another. And modern.’

‘That’s not hard to achieve when you think how old this must be.’ Raphael was also staring around, looking as though he’d never really seen it before. ‘I wonder if the design company’s still got the in-depth plans?’ Excitement was beginning to crowd his gaze. ‘They’re based on the other side of Richmond.’

‘Only one way to find out,’ she drawled.

He grinned and pushed her glass in front of her. ‘Drink up and stop being annoying.’

‘Why is wanting to help being annoying?’ The wine was delicious, a perfect end to a busy day.

Ignoring her question, he went with some of his own. ‘How do you feel after your first week on the maternity ward? Glad you joined us?’ He gave the sauce a stir before leaning against the counter and stretching his legs before him. Legs that went on for ever.

Gulp. He’d always had those legs. Why were they any different tonight? Another gulp of wine. What was the question? Oh, right. ‘I’m loving it. And yes, I believe it was the right move. Though only time will really be the judge of that.’ Following his example, she perched on another chair and reached for the colour charts, noting the ones that had been circled with a marker pen.

‘I’ll add my bit to making it happen.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know. You’ll be a dog with a bone.’ Looking around she spied Chienne on her cushion. ‘Sorry, not trying to insult you, Cat. You’re too good for bones.’ The cat was getting to her, making her feel more and more at ease. But then she did like to share the bed in the darkest hours of the night, or curl up on her lap when she came downstairs for a glass of water and some upright time in an attempt to get into a fall-asleep zone.

‘Don’t listen to her, Chienne. Izzy likes to con everyone round to her way of thinking.’

‘Why not if it gets me what I want?’ She grinned. Then focused on the colours that had been circled with a marker pen, rather than stare at those thighs filling his black jeans. ‘Who suggested these colours?’ They weren’t bad. The colours? Or the thighs? She could live with them. Both of them. Gulp. Nice wine. Hope there was more in that bottle for after dinner.

‘Believe it or not, in the first months when I was fired up to get on with fixing the place up I visited the paint shop and the woman I spoke to was very helpful with suggestions. Said these were the latest in colour schemes and if I want to sell the place would appeal to more buyers.’

‘You’re thinking of moving? Already?’ First she’d heard of it. She didn’t like it. She was getting used to Raphael being here and had hoped they’d live in the same vicinity long term. Was he really considering moving again? Of course she’d known he would eventually return to Avignon. That’s why. He’d always felt a pull towards his family and hometown. As she had with Wellington. Look where that got her. It hadn’t been Wellington at fault, more her and the man she’d returned there with. Whereas Avignon might very well be the best thing for Raphael. Her heart stuttered. Didn’t she want him to be happy? Deep, deep breath. Yes, she did. More than anything. More than her own happiness. Truly? A sip of wine. Truly.

‘Can’t guarantee anything’s for ever. But I’m here for the foreseeable future at least.’ He spaced the words, loud and clear, as though it was important she believed him.

The relief was strong. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘What are you looking for in a flat?’ He sipped his drink as he waited for her reply.

‘Two bedrooms, though I guess one would suffice. Located near a train

station, of course, and close to shops and food outlets.’

‘Sounds ordinary.’

‘I guess it is, but ordinary’s fine for now.’