The Last Heir of Monterrato

For her part, Lottie had decided there was no point in getting into another argument with Rafael about something that might never happen. She had no intention of making this enforced captivity any more excruciating than it already was.

‘How has the painting gone today?’ Cutting into his steak, Rafael raised his fork to his mouth and his all-seeing gaze to her face.

‘Good.’ Lottie felt the familiar clench in her stomach at the sight of him. She struggled with an awkward mouthful of salad. ‘I’m only doing small studies at the moment; I’m hoping I can scale them up to a bigger painting.’ She paused as she caught the look in his eyes. ‘That’s if I’m here long enough, I mean.’

Rafael’s jaw clenched but he said nothing.

‘Trying to catch the light on the water is incredibly difficult.’ She hurried on to avoid that particular quagmire. ‘Just when I think I am getting somewhere I look up again and it’s all changed.’

‘A bit like life, really.’ Rafael coldly turned his attention back to his meal.

Lottie looked down at hers.

‘Had you been doing much painting since...since we last saw each other?’

Lottie noted his tactful turn of phrase, and his voice was even, but it was belied by the tautness of his body, as if he was holding back the desire to jump on his chair and scream Since you walked out on me.

‘Um, no, not really. I’ve not had much time, what with a full-time job and everything.’ She chased a cherry tomato round her plate. ‘I’ve kept up my drawing, though. In fact I’ve been doing a lot of sketches—you know, just for friends... portraits, treasured pets, that sort of thing.’

‘I’m glad you have been using your talent. So, this job of yours...’

Laying his knife and fork down, Rafael steepled his fingers over his plate and fixed her with his most piercing gaze. Lottie braced herself for an interrogation, immediately on the defensive.

‘Tell me how it is, working for a guy like Ibrahim?’

‘It’s okay.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The job is well paid.’ Was well paid, she thought silently.

‘And what exactly does he expect for his money?’

‘What are you suggesting, Rafael?’ Her eyes flashed dangerously.

‘I’m not suggesting anything.’

‘Good, because if you were it would be deeply insulting.’

‘I’m simply trying to understand why you would flatly refuse a settlement from me in favour of working for a jerk like him.’ His lack of understanding was all too evident in the jut of his jaw. ‘If you needed money you only had to ask.’

Lottie thought back to the obscene amount of money she had been offered by his solicitors a few months after she had left him. She’d rejected it without a second thought. It had felt as if he was buying her off: goodbye and good riddance.

‘And I can’t understand why you can’t see that I want to be independent.’

‘Of course. How foolish of me to keep forgetting that.’ His voice was laced with sarcasm. ‘So, tell me—how does this independence feel, being at the beck and call of that slimy bastard?’

‘Better than being a kept woman.’ Lottie glared back at him. ‘And besides, I am not at his beck and call. I am perfectly capable of handling someone like Ibrahim. I can take care of myself.’

Rafael let his gaze rake over the feisty young woman before him and realised that she was probably right—she could take care of herself. She was no longer the innocent twenty-one-year-old he had fallen in love with but someone who, despite her delicate appearance, had the maturity to go with her fiery spirit, to cope with whatever life threw at her. Not that his protective instinct would ever go completely. He knew that despite everything he would still leap in front of a flying bullet for her without a second thought.

‘I’m not worried.’

‘Good.’ Lottie chewed at her lip, very much hoping that was the end of that particular conversation.

‘Especially as I know you no longer work for him.’ The dark brows were raised infuriatingly.

‘You know?’ Lottie felt her blood pressure soar. ‘How do you know?’

Rafael merely shrugged his shoulders in reply.

‘Why do I even ask?’ Lottie’s voice soared to match the blood in her veins. ‘I should have worked out by now that you have absolutely no scruples when it comes to prying into my life.’

‘In actual fact Ibrahim contacted me.’ Rafael’s reply was maddeningly calm. ‘He was inviting me to an exclusive preview—some conceptual artist that he seemed very excited about. Apparently he has enormous investment potential.’