eyed her impatiently. ‘I asked if you had made the croissants I ate for my breakfast earlier.’
‘Er—yes.’ Was this some sort of game? Grace wondered, feeling dazed. The one where you lulled your opponent into a false sense of security, and just when they were starting to relax you kicked them in the teeth? Because if so—
‘They were delicious.’ He nodded briskly. ‘As good as anything I have tasted in some of the best hotels in Paris.’
So they should be, when Grace had worked in one of those hotels for over a year, under one of the best chefs in France, once she had completed her cordon bleu course.
‘I’m pleased you enjoyed them.’ She gave a shrug. ‘Consider them a parting gift from me to you.’
Those piercing black eyes narrowed. ‘You are leaving?’
‘Of course I—’ Grace eyed him warily. ‘Isn’t that why you had me brought here, so that you could have the pleasure of dismissing me personally?’
Cesar had wondered, after returning to his bedroom the previous night, if perhaps he had just met Grace Blake at a time when she was obviously feeling vulnerable and homesick, and resulting in that vulnerability making her more verbose than she might otherwise have been. Two minutes in her company this morning and he knew that was not the case; she really was this outspoken all of the time!
He arched dark brows. ‘And why do you believe it would give me personal pleasure to dismiss you?’ He arched dark brows as he studied her beneath hooded lids.
Those freckles across her nose and cheeks were more visible in the clear light of day, her eyes the beautiful clear colour of the Mediterranean Sea, neither blue nor green, but somewhere in between. Her hair was a rich shiny sable, but was unfortunately once again confined in a ponytail at her nape. Even so it was possible for Cesar to tell that it would probably reach almost to her waist once released.
She shifted uncomfortably beneath the steady implacability of his gaze. ‘I was very outspoken last night. And rude. And maybe a tad sarcastic. And—’ She broke off as Cesar slowly stood up before moving around his desk, deftly avoiding knocking the single framed photograph; sitting to one side of it, he leant against the front of the desk.
A photograph of Raphael, perhaps?
‘And?’ he prompted softly.
Her eyes were very wide and she swallowed before answering. ‘And I expressed a dislike of the excessive security you have in place here.’
‘Yes,’ he drawled dryly.
She blinked. ‘Yes, I was outspoken? Yes, I was rude? Yes, I was a tad sarcastic? Or yes, I expressed being uncomfortable with the excessive security you surround yourself with?’
‘Yes, you did all four of those things,’ Cesar confirmed tersely.
‘There you go, then.’ She smiled ruefully.
‘There I go what?’ he prompted irritably. Outspokenness was one thing, incomprehension was something else entirely.
Grace eyed him impatiently, more than a little overwhelmed by this man’s close proximity. As she was also aware of how his sheer presence seemed to have once again sucked all the air out of the room. ‘There are all the reasons you’re going to dismiss me!’
‘The reasons I am going to enjoy personally dismissing you was, I believe, the phrase you used?’
‘Does it matter?’ Grace gave a heavy sigh at his tenacity. ‘The bottom line is that you’re sacking me. The level of enjoyment you’re going to feel from doing so irrelevant—’
‘To you, perhaps,’ he bit out coldly. ‘I happen to take exception to being accused of enjoying depriving anyone of their employment.’
And that exception was clearly visible in the dark glitter of his eyes, thinned and disapproving mouth, and the nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw!
‘Okay, I’m sorry if—I was obviously mistaken. I spoke hastily. You may not enjoy doing it, but you’re going to do it, anyway,’ she substituted lightly.
If that was Grace Blake’s idea of an apology then Cesar believed she needed to work on her people skills—because she had just succeeded in insulting him for a second time in as many minutes!
‘Better yet,’ she brightened. ‘Why don’t we just take it as said, I’ll go back to the cottage and pack my things, and then be on my way? You and Raphael would probably appreciate not having a third party under your feet all the time, anyway.’
Cesar had the feeling that he had somehow lost control of this conversation some minutes ago. Not a normal occurrence for him: usually when he spoke people listened; they certainly did not attempt to speak for him!
He raised a frustrated hand to his chin as he eyed Grace Blake impatiently. ‘Myself and Raphael …?’
‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.’ She reached out to place a reassuring hand on his sleeve-covered arm before quickly withdrawing it, a blush once again darkening her cheeks. ‘Kevin had me sign some sort of privacy contract at the end of our second interview, anyway, no doubt so that you could sue me if I breathe a word to anyone about your private life.’ She gave him another one of those bright smiles.
‘Myself and Raphael,’ Cesar repeated softly. Very softly. The sort of lethally laced softness that family and foes alike knew to beware of.
And which Grace Blake should be very wary of if her comments just now meant what Cesar thought they did!
CHAPTER THREE
ONE GLANCE AT THE COLDNESS in Cesar Navarro’s glittering black eyes, and the harshness to his swarthy and chiselled features, and Grace knew that she had said something to annoy him.
Again.
He had that same stillness and coldness of expression that her father had always had when she or Beth had done something wrong; Clive Blake had been a wonderful and loving father to them both, one that never, ever raised his voice to his two daughters—because he hadn’t needed to, just that cold stillness enough to tell them he was displeased or disappointed.
As Cesar Navarro’s cold stillness now told her he was the former, at the very least!
Grace’s feet seemed to be weighted down on the carpeted floor, and her mind had gone blank, making it impossible for her to either flee or remember what they had been talking about immediately before he became the iceman.
Ah, yes, she remembered now; she had been reassuring him as to her complete discretion in regard to his relationship with Raphael—
Oh.
Grace looked up at Cesar searchingly before slowly giving a pained wince. ‘You and Raphael aren’t a couple?’
One dark brow arched over those glittering black eyes. ‘Perhaps you would care to explain to me why it is you ever thought that we were?’
Even his tone of voice was the same as their dad’s, Grace acknowledged with
