her day, the random people she had chatted to, thoughts and plans that had flitted through her head and which she’d told him she liked to discuss with him. He was amazed that it didn’t irritate the hell out of him, but it didn’t. She was easily pleased and he found that he liked that. In the general scheme of things, the less easily pleased the woman, the shorter the relationship.
Now she was chatting to him about the starter, which was a combination of various seafoods in a spicy tomato sauce and served in a large glass bowl stuffed with crisp lettuce and tomatoes.
‘Am I boring you?’ she asked out of the blue, and Rafael looked at her quizzically.
‘Why would you ask that?’
‘Because I seem to be the one doing all the talking, and …’ She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him earnestly. ‘I just wondered whether you find it a bit dull listening to me rattle on about the silly things that happen in my life, when you’d probably much rather be talking about more important stuff.’
Rafael speared a prawn on his fork and held it out to her to nibble. She had a very sexy mouth and a very sexy way of eating food. She didn’t view it as a plateful of calories waiting to pounce. She enjoyed every mouthful of what she ate, and it was a turn-on just watching her.
This time, however, she shook her head and stared down at her plate for a few seconds.
‘I enjoy not talking about “important stuff’,’ Rafael told her. ‘I spend countless hours talking about important stuff. It’s great to get here and listen to you tell me about the latest drama in your life.’
‘I don’t have a dramatic life, Rafael. You do.’
‘On the contrary.’ He finished his starter and stood up to clear the table. ‘I listen to stockbrokers and bankers and lawyers discuss technicalities of management buyouts and takeover bids and foreign currency markets. Hardly drama.’
That sounded pretty dramatic to Cristina, whose mind seemed to shut down the second it was presented with a financial problem. Anthea had turned out to be a godsend in that area, handling all the accounts efficiently and expertly. Normally she would have chattered away to him about her lack of ability when it came to sorting out money matters. He’d often teased her about that. But now, on her pressing bandwagon of trying to find out where they were going, and with Anthea’s warning words ringing in her ears, she lapsed into anxious silence.
‘What did you talk to … your other girlfriends about?’ she asked eventually, and he frowned at her.
‘How am I supposed to remember?’ She seemed to be lost in a little worried world of her own, so he fetched the fish from the oven and gestured for her to remain seated while he dished out. ‘Now.’ He sat down and looked at her steadily. ‘What’s this all about?’
Now or never. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she had never been the sort of girl who was willing to be dangled on a string, waiting for a day that might never arrive. She had old-fashioned principles, and already she was in the process of jettisoning them by sleeping with Rafael when she had no real idea where they were heading. She had fallen instantly and madly in love with him and, while that love was glorious and uplifting, it had also cleverly ambushed a lifetime’s worth of romantic convictions and beliefs.
‘Rafael … I really need to know where we’re going. I mean,’ she continued hurriedly, ‘I never planned to get involved in a relationship that was going nowhere.’ Underneath the kitchen table, she wrung her hands together and mentally told herself that she was absolutely doing the right thing. ‘I’ve told Mum and Dad about us, and they haven’t said anything, but I know that they don’t approve. This may sound silly to you, but …’ Those amazing blue eyes were narrowed on her and she didn’t have a clue what was going on in his head. She had seen that look a few times when he had taken work calls in her presence, that inscrutable, shuttered look that lent him an air of chilling foreboding. Directed at her, she felt her stomach spasm into painful knots as she desperately tried to hang on to her courage.
‘But …?’
‘But I haven’t been brought up to sleep my way through a series of meaningless relationships.’ Another lungful of air. ‘I …’ She almost slipped up and told him that she loved him, but she bit back the words which, even more than the carefully planned meal, would have guaranteed him running scared within seconds. He had not once mentioned love, and she wasn’t going to ask for declarations, just for the hope that they could progress the relationship in the right direction.
‘And that’s a good thing,’ he surprised her by saying. He leaned across the table towards her. The first time he had proposed marriage, he had done it in style—bended knee, his mother’s engagement ring. That marriage had been an illusion. This, however, was reality and there would be no foolish romantic gestures. ‘I don’t expect you to continue sleeping with me, assuming the position of mistress. I knew that the very first time we slept together it was a matter of great significance for you.’ He paused. ‘I would never disrespect you, nor would I disrespect your parents by stringing you along. Which is why I think we should get married.’
‘Get married?’
‘Of course.’
This wasn’t what Cristina had imagined, not as a marriage proposal nor, for that matter, as a likely outcome for her conversation with him. Gradually, though, his words sunk in. Not only was he prepared to offer her hope that their relationship was more serious than she could ever have dreamed possible, but he was proving it by doing the one thing he had spent years avoiding! It might have been a bit flat as far as proposals went, but he wasn’t given to sweeping emotional displays, and wasn’t this her dream come true? Her fairy-tale ending?
She smiled tentatively and he took her hand and idly played with her wedding finger. ‘So … is that a yes?’ he asked softly.
‘It’s a yes!’
‘Good.’ Rafael sat back, satisfied. ‘In that case, a ring is in order. I think it’s safe to say that we might as well enjoy a brief spell of calm before our families are let loose.’
That funny, flat feeling was gone as her imagination took wing and began to soar. A ring! She would be sporting an engagement ring! And would be marrying the man of her dreams! How much better could life get?
She went across and flung her arms around him. ‘Does that mean,’ he drawled, ‘That you’re offering yourself for dessert?’
‘Just making the most of this brief spell of calm, as you ordered,’ Cristina laughed. ‘And, in case you’re still hungry, you can have whatever dessert you like …’
CHAPTER SIX
IN ALL good movies, the dashing man proposed on bended knee, flourishing an antique engagement ring, which magically always fitted the blushing bride-to-be. Sometimes the ring was concealed in a fortune cookie, which had always got Cristina wondering what might happen if it were to be accidentally swallowed.
She decided that it was probably much better to actually choose the engagement ring together and, Rafael being Rafael, the minute she had accepted his marriage proposal he took charge.
He knew exactly which jewellers to visit, as he had used them himself in the past. Cristina wondered what, exactly, he had bought from them, but she kept that uneasy question to herself, happy to go along with the flow. Despite owning some
