A Prize Beyond Jewels

At the same time as she, personally, couldn’t help but admire Rafe for doing so. She loved her father dearly, but that didn’t prevent her from being fully aware of the fact that his power made him far too accustomed to having his own way, to exerting his will on others, and expecting them to ask ‘how high’ when he said jump. Rafe D’Angelo obviously wasn’t one of those people.

She nodded. ‘My father suggested, if that should be the case, that you choose another evening convenient to yourself?’

‘Let’s see.’ He made a point of opening and checking the large diary on his desk. ‘Tomorrow evening seems to be free at the moment?’

‘If that should change you can let me know tomorrow.’ Nina nodded, still amused rather than concerned by Rafe’s determination not to be dictated to by her father.

He raised dark brows. ‘You still plan on coming in to the gallery every day?’

‘My father expects it.’

Rafe D’Angelo relaxed back against his high-backed black leather chair as he looked at her through narrowed lids. ‘And do you always do what your father expects?’

Nina stiffened at the taunting tone in his voice. ‘It causes him less distress if I do, so yes,’ she confirmed abruptly.

‘Distress?’ He quirked one dark and mocking brow.

‘Yes.’ Nina had no intention of elaborating on that explanation.

Her father’s reasons for being so protective of her were none of Rafe D’Angelo’s business. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. It was what it was, and Nina accepted it as such. If she occasionally chafed against her father’s need for that protection, then that was her own affair, and not Rafe D’Angelo’s.

His golden, predatory gaze now raked over her with a deliberate, and mercilessly male, assessment, causing Nina’s nipples to swell and firm as that gaze finally settled on the pertness of her breasts as they pressed snugly against her T-shirt. Nina drew her breath in softly as the cotton material acted as a mild abrasive against her bared flesh, deepening that arousal, at the same time as she felt a hot gush of dampness between her thighs.

Her body didn’t seem to care that Rafe D’Angelo had deliberately set out to cause this response in her, that he was no doubt amusing himself at her expense as the ache in her nipples became an unbearable torture, and between her thighs swelled, became even more moist, as if in readiness for the stroke, the entry, of this man’s touch.

But Nina cared. Her father’s years of protection might have made her totally inadequate when it came to dealing with men as experienced as Rafe D’Angelo, but she wasn’t about to let herself be the cause of any man’s amusement, least of all the arrogant and mocking Rafe D’Angelo.

She stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll inform my father that you’ve accepted his dinner invitation for tomorrow evening,’ she bit out abruptly.

Rafe raised his gaze reluctantly from enjoying the pertness of Nina Palitov’s breasts, part of that enjoyment having been knowing, by the sudden tautness and swelling of her nipples, that she was far from immune to his appreciative gaze.

But one look at Nina’s face, seeing the pained accusation in those moss-green eyes, the creamy pallor of her cheeks, and the defensive angle of her little pointed chin, and he felt like a complete heel for having behaved so badly. He was angry with his own unexpected physical response to this woman, with Michael for putting him in this position in the first place, even a little with Dmitri Palitov for the same reason, but that didn’t give him the right to take that anger out on Nina.

Rafe stood up to move round to the side of his desk, the two of them now standing only inches apart. ‘Will you be joining us for dinner tomorrow evening?’ he prompted softly.

She looked up at him warily. ‘I believe my father will expect me to be there to act as his hostess, yes.’

His brows rose. ‘You don’t live with your father?’

‘Not quite.’ Nina smiled slightly as she thought of her apartment. It was located in the same building that housed her father’s penthouse apartment, a building that he also owned, and over which he had complete control of all security. Not the complete independence Nina would wish for, but it was better than she had inwardly expected after returning from Stanford.

Rafe D’Angelo eyed her quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’

She gave a shake of her head; her father didn’t discuss their living arrangements with anyone, and consequently some of that need for secrecy had rubbed off on her. ‘It means I will be at my father’s apartment for dinner tomorrow evening.’