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‘Oh, so do I,’ she responded, and changed the subject abruptly. ‘The water lilies here must be different from the ones at home. Ours fold up at dusk.’
‘So do ours.’ He smiled. ‘I believe the petals of these ones are held in place by candle wax. It is a local tradition.’
A few steps brought them to the pavilion, where Rafiq held the drapes back with a lean hand. ‘Do you play chess?’
‘Badly,’ she replied, walking into the airy space and looking around. ‘I don’t think I’d be even the mildest challenge to anyone who can think more than two moves ahead.’
But several hours later, after they’d eaten, she was sitting on the edge of her chair and glowering at an elaborate chessboard, her mind working frantically.
Rafiq said evenly, ‘You lied.’
Her head came up, and she met his half-closed green eyes with a flash of fire. ‘I don’t lie.’
‘You said you were no challenge.’ His voice was amused.
‘You’re winning,’ she pointed out. ‘In fact, I can’t see how I’m going to get out of this situation.’
He lifted his brows. ‘If you want to know—’
‘No! Give me another few minutes to see if I can do it.’
His quick grin—so unlike his usual air of sophisticated forcefulness that it startled her—was quickly controlled. ‘Go ahead,’ he invited.
Frowning, Lexie puzzled over the board, saw what seemed to be the perfect move, and almost made it—until further intense thought revealed it would involve a check to her king a few moves further on.
Rafiq had a poker player’s face; not a single emotion escaped his control. She was acutely, violently aware of him at his ease in the cane chair, long limbs relaxed, the light from a dozen soft lamps highlighting the arrogant sweep of cheekbones, the tough jawline and the hooded green of his eyes.
Lexie’s breath caught in her throat. Behind him she could see several elegant loungers, and a day bed—a sinful thing, more than big enough to hold two people during the hours of a lazy tropical siesta. A puff of breeze smoothed over her skin, sensitising it…
Every coherent thought died a swift and unappreciated death, drowned by a sensuous recklessness. Iwant you, she thought, the need so violent she wondered for a panicky second if she’d actually said it.
Colour burned her cheeks. She had to get out of there, away from this man—away from this love nest with its scented flowers and gentle lamplight. Abruptly she said, ‘Do you mind if I call it a day? I’ll concede if you’ll tell me how to get out of this.’
One black brow climbed, but he showed her.
As they blocked out the moves, he said in a casual voice, ‘In two days’ time I will be attending a special function—the opening ceremony for another hotel, but this time the celebrations are for those who worked on the building, and those who will work in it. A people’s party, much less formal than the affair you attended the other night. If you feel up to it, would you like to come with me?’
Completely taken aback, she flushed again, searching for words. ‘I feel fine, but I don’t want to intrude…I’ll be quite happy here, you know.’
His all-too-potent smile sent erotic little shivers through her. ‘There will be music and dancing and excellent food, and very few speeches.’
Torn, Lexie hesitated. Being with Rafiq was starting to mean far too much. A sensible woman would find some good excuse to refuse.
Deciding that being sensible was vastly overrated, she strove for some of his confidence. ‘I’d love to come. It sounds like great fun.’
‘I hope so.’
Rafiq wondered what was going on behind that serene face. She didn’t realise that she was actually a prisoner in the castle; he hoped she never would.
Not for the first time he wondered how an intelligent, accomplished woman like her had been duped by Gastano. Was she bored with the man? She hadn’t tried to contact the count, and certainly she’d shown no signs of missing him.
Which could mean that to her the relationship was as superficial as Gastano’s charm.
It seemed likely. Rafiq’s mind ranged back to the first time they’d met; she’d been offhand with the count, and in spite of Gastano’s presence she’d been acutely aware of Rafiq.
As physically aware as he’d been of her.
Lust at first sight, he thought, controlling a cold, humourless smile. His jaw hardened as Lexie began to pack away the chessmen in their carved box.
Did she know Gastano intended marriage? It didn’t seem likely. Or was this her way of showing Gastano that she’d wanted no more than an affair with him?
If so, she had no understanding of her lover. Her family connections would be worth more than gold to the count. As her husband, he’d have entrée into a milieu he’d long coveted—the charmed world of royal power and influence.
The count would be furious if he thought the woman he’d targeted as a ticket to respectability and even greater power was slipping through his fingers.
And furious men made mistakes.
Gastano had already tried to establish contact with Lexie. Rafiq recalled Gastano’s email note, written in a tone he probably intended to be disarming, but with enough innuendo to summon a shockingly forthright and very territorial response from Rafiq. And although he couldn’t find a logical reason for it, he still felt strongly that hiding her away from Gastano was the only way to keep her safe.
Because of Hani? He dismissed that thought. His sister had been naïve; Lexie was not. Even if she had been when she met Gastano, two months as his mistress would have put paid to any innocence.
The question Rafiq couldn’t ask nagged at him. Had she responded to Gastano with the same wildfire passion she’d revealed in his own arms?
The thought made his fists clench. Watching the way the golden lamplight shifted and shimmered across her bent head as she carefully sorted the chessmen, Rafiq wondered again if his objectivity was being hijacked by his response to her. Those smoky blue eyes, half-hidden by her long, black lashes, might mask her thoughts, but nothing could disguise that softly sensuous mouth.
His gaze hardened as Lexie slid the queens into place, capable fingers moving swiftly, her lashes casting shadowy fans on her exquisite skin.
Lexie looked up to find her host’s dark eyes on her, intent and speculative, as though trying to see into her soul. Her nerves sparked and colour heated her cheeks.
‘You look tired,’ he said quietly. ‘How is your neck?’
Her colour deepened. ‘It’s fine, thank you. It just catches me now and then.’
She took her time about closing the case that held the chess set, fiddling with the catch until she regained some composure. But although her skin was cool once more, the fire inside her still burned with a fierce, hungry flame.
Getting to her feet, she said a little shortly, ‘It’s been a lovely evening. Thank you.’
He rose with her, looking down from his considerably superior height with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. They walked in silence across the bridge and back through the castle.
Lexie wished she could be as controlled. His nearness was delicious torture. She both longed for the door of her room and resented its imminence, torn between this dangerously addictive arousal and the knowledge that the chemistry between them meant nothing more than uncomplicated, old-fashioned animal magnetism.
Looked at from a biological point of view, she thought, trying hard to be dispassionate and scientific, the volatile attraction pounding through her bloodstream and alerting every cell in her body was a natural urge stimulated by hormones that somehow knew she and Rafiq would make splendid children together.
Something deep inside her melted.
Ruthlessly she told herself it didn’t mean she was in love with him. He certainly wasn’t in love with her. It was simply a matter of genes, the need to perpetuate the species—all the things she’d learned in her long and expensive university training.
And although her response to him was a fiery torment, it didn’t really mean much. Worldwide, there were probably millions of men she could feel this way about.
She’d just never met one before.
Anyway, when she married she wanted what Jacoba had—a man who adored her and accepted her as his equal in every way.
Not someone who saw her simply as a sexual partner.
Rafiq’s voice broke in on her ragged thoughts as they reached the door of her room. ‘That is an interesting expression.’
She stiffened, her brain searching for something innocuous to say. Lamely—and too quickly—she said, ‘I was thinking about a biological… Ah, about biology.’
His lips curved in a wry, humourless smile, and his eyes were darkly shaded. ‘So was I.’ The last word was spoken against her eager, expectant mouth.
His previous kisses had been explorations, she thought dimly; this one wasn’t. He knew what she wanted, and when she gave a muffled groan and surrendered, he gathered her even closer so that she could feel his physical reaction—the electric intensity of his desire, the erotic difference between her female softness and his male power.
A rush of adrenalin sharpened her senses as her body sprang into exhilarating life. Shivering with delight, she forgot everything but the sheer physical magic of his embrace and her mindless, primal response. His body heat, the strength of his hands on her, the faint, intrinsic scent of him, the tactile excitement of his skin beneath her seeking fingers—all combined to add sensual fuel to that inner fire burning away inhibitions and caution.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_8e4a3b37-0e37-5dd2-9a56-50a26a9e321f)
RAFIQ loosened his arms and rested his cheek on the top of Lexie’s head, gently rocking her in his arms while she came back to earth.
‘It is too soon,’ he said, his voice oddly harsh. ‘And although you are like wildfire in my arms, there are smudges under those beautiful eyes, and I think you are trying to stifle a yawn in my shoulder. Good night, Lexie. Sleep well. Tomorrow I will take you on the trip that was cut short by the accident.’
She might see something of the famed wild horses of Moraze. Lexie should have been delighted. To her shock and dismay, all she could summon was mild enthusiasm. Stifling a small sound of protest, she composed her expression into serenity and eased back, feeling foolishly bereft when he let her go with insulting ease.
‘I’ll look forward to that.’ Oh Lord; her voice was breathy and soft, as though she were mimicking Marilyn Monroe!
Without meeting his eyes, she directed a swift, shaken smile at him and turned into her room, nerves jumping when she closed the door. She leaned back against the carved wood, striving to force strength into her lax bones.
This whole situation was too dangerous. She shouldn’t have allowed those passionate moments in his arms, moments charged with a carnal magic that still ached through her.
Allowed them? She’d welcomed them, surrendered to them, wallowed in the erotic excitement of them, until in the end she’d had no defences left. The intensity of her emotions, the sensations Rafiq made her feel, scared her. When he touched her she lost herself, became someone different, an alien person with no shame and no control.
Lexie wrenched herself upright and walked across to a window, staring out across the lagoon to the white line of the reef.
Slowly she dragged air into her lungs. These bewildering days on Moraze were teaching her that she wasn’t capable of an easy relationship with lots of lust followed by a cheerful goodbye once it was sated.
‘Not my style,’ she said a little bitterly to the silent room. Certainly not with Rafiq…
But at least she’d learned one thing about him: he didn’t want just casual sex either. Because he could have had her right there and then, and he’d known it, yet he’d pulled back.
She set her jaw. Because her resistance was so easily breached, there must be no more of this perilous intimacy. After tomorrow she’d leave the castle. And she’d make it clear she wasn’t in the market for, well, anything. He wouldn’t press her; Rafiq de Couteveille was a sophisticated man, and there were plenty of sophisticated, experienced women who’d be more than happy to satisfy his urges.
And that sharp stab of emotion was not jealousy, or—worse still—anguish at the thought!
‘There!’ Rafiq pointed over her shoulder, his voice urgent. ‘Can you see them?’
‘Yes.’ Thrilled, Lexie lifted the binoculars he’d lent her and examined the small herd.
Not at all spooked by the vehicle, the horses lifted their heads and serenely surveyed them. A couple of skittish youngsters danced sideways, their coats gleaming in the tropical sun, only to subside and snatch another mouthful of grass. The stallion, master of his harem, clearly realised that no harm would come to them from this particular vehicle. Although he kept a watchful eye on them, his stance showed his trust. Even the wise old mare that led the herd had already dropped her head to graze again.
Lexie stole another glance at the arrogant line of Rafiq’s profile as he watched the herd. The angular lines of his face intent yet relaxed, he looked as though the sight of the herd satisfied a hunger in his soul. Her heartbeat picked up speed. How would she feel if he ever gazed at her like that?
Angry with herself at such futile longing, she lifted the binoculars to her eyes again. ‘How long have they been on Moraze?’
‘The bride of the first de Couteveille brought some of her father’s horses with her. They were set free up here, and here they’ve flourished ever since.’
Like the de Couteveilles, she thought. She said on a sigh, ‘I’ll always remember this day. Thank you so much.’
‘It has been my pleasure,’ he said calmly, and set the four-wheel drive in motion. As they started on the winding descent to the fertile lowlands, he asked, ‘Which did you enjoy most—the jungle animals in the mountains, or the horses?’
She laughed. ‘That’s an unfair question, but I was fascinated by the jungle animals, and can’t help wondering how on earth their ancestors got here.’
‘Biologists are working on their provenance,’ he told her. Without any change in tone he went on, ‘So you liked the horses better?’
Surprised at his perception, she admitted, ‘Yes. They’re so wild and free, and so lovely. I suppose I envy them.’
‘Perhaps we all do.’ He sent her a glance that set her toes tingling. ‘But you have independence. Or are you planning to give it up?’
Startled, she said quickly, ‘No.’
His glance sharpened before he returned it to the road ahead. ‘What appeals to you so much about the thought of freedom?’
‘Surely it’s everyone’s desire?’ She looked ahead to the vehicle that accompanied them, driven by a bodyguard with another by his side. Living like that would stifle her. How did Rafiq stand it?
‘Most people seem content to settle into comfortable servitude,’ he observed.
‘Perhaps. And perhaps they’re happier than those who long for freedom.’ She looked up. ‘Are you content with your chains?’
‘Tell me what you think to be my chains.’
‘Well, you’re forced to live as the ruler of Moraze. Don’t you ever have the urge to break free?’
His gaze flicked across her face, then returned to the road ahead. ‘Sometimes,’ he said, shrugging. ‘And you? What chains hold you?’
Lexie bit her lip. Like him, servitude to her forebears, but she wasn’t going to tell him about her father. ‘Oh, nothing really,’ she said lamely, wishing she hadn’t embarked on this.
She stared around, then said, ‘Oh! I recognise this place—it’s where we crashed!’ Frowning, she leaned forward to examine the road and the grassy bank as they passed the spot. ‘I wonder why I didn’t see the animal that ran out in front of us.’
‘It’s possible you did see it, but because of the shock you don’t remember,’ Rafiq said coolly. ‘The driver has recovered completely, by the way.’
‘I still feel guilty because I didn’t go to see her,’ Lexie said without thinking.
He shrugged. ‘You have high standards of behaviour. She did not expect it.’
Something in his tone made her say crisply, ‘Simple courtesy isn’t exactly a high standard.’ And without finesse she steered the conversation in another direction. ‘Tell me, what should I wear to the hotel party? I don’t know the sort of thing that would be appropriate.’
He sent her another enigmatic glance, almost as though she’d surprised him. ‘The dress you wore the night we met would be perfect.’
The flame-shot silk Jacoba had bought for her? Lexie loved that dress, and not just because the colour brought out a richness in her hair, and gave her skin a glow it didn’t normally have. In it she felt like someone else—a different, bolder, more confident person.
