with pleasure; something he’d never done before.
But this interview process must never become something more. Casey’s innocence prevented it. She was so tender and vulnerable outside her job, and that should never be exploited. And besides, with so much appetite on his side and so much untapped passion on hers, if their relationship ever did overstep the mark they would take off into sexual space and never come back to earth again.
As he watched her moist lips embrace the straw plunged deep into fresh papaya juice, he could only be thankful she hadn’t agreed to champagne. He needed a clear head and all his sternest resolve if this apparently innocent meeting in a club was going to remain the safe side of sin.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘TELL me something about your family, Casey …’
‘My family?’ Casey’s throat constricted as Raffa leaned towards her. Was her family being considered for the job now? She made herself calm down by reasoning that this was a perfectly acceptable question for an employer to ask. It was by no means unique, and it allowed Raffa to paint a clearer picture of who she was. But still …
‘We’re nothing special.’
‘Nothing special?’ Raffa frowned, his dark eyes glinting in the discreet lighting. ‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’
‘I’m sure you’d find us terribly boring.’
‘And I’m equally sure I won’t …’ As he spoke Raffa straightened up and put his hands flat on the table, where the delicious entrées they had ordered lay largely untouched.
They had a lot to say to each other, Casey reflected, except when it came to their private lives; then both of them clammed up. But she didn’t have the option of holding out on him if she wanted this job. ‘You’ve read my file—’
‘So I know a lot about you on paper,’ he countered. ‘But I want you to tell me. My intention in bringing you here to A’Qaban is to go way beyond the printed page, Casey. I need to know you.’
‘I understand …’
‘And I understand that your parents’ job is a little unusual,’ he said in a reassuring voice. ‘So don’t feel embarrassed.’
‘I’m not …’ His hard mouth had softened fractionally, she noticed, and there was genuine warmth in his eyes.
‘Why don’t you tell me about them?’
‘I’m okay with their work,’ she admitted, hearing in her voice that she had made it sound like a lie.
‘Expand a little,’ Raffa encouraged, pouring a glass of water for her.
How much did he want to know? She had never discussed her parents’ work with anyone outside the family before. How could she, when she could never take a man home to ‘meet the family’, knowing that any boyfriend would only end up as a lab rat to be quizzed and evaluated by her sex therapist parents before being added to their latest batch of trial statistics.
‘Do you know my parents’ work?’
‘I know their work well,’ he said, as casually as if her parents ran a market garden. ‘They’re world-renowned academics; it would be hard not to.’
He wasn’t mocking her, as so many others had. He was genuinely interested, she realised.
‘I never forget we are all products of our background, to some extent, and so it’s only natural for me to be curious about your formative influences.’
‘And about whether I can talk of them without embarrassment?’ she said bluntly. ‘I’m proud of my parents’ achievements.’ She was. They had helped so many people. Except for her, of course. But it went without saying that that had never been on the cards.
‘So you’ve grown up in a loving family?’
‘Absolutely. My parents may seem unconventional to some people, but they always put me first and were very good role models.’
Raffa eased back, appearing to consider this. She was overheating. It was the first time she had talked so openly about a side of her life that, for all the sex talk round the dinner table, was repressed. In spite of the casual way her parents discussed intimacy, she had never found it possible to open up. Her parents had heard it all before, she had reasoned when she was younger, and she knew it would only embarrass them to realise what a failure their daughter was in an area in which they specialised.
‘You’re very lucky,’ Raffa said. ‘Tragically, I never knew my parents.’
His manner prevented further discussion, and she respected his silence. What she had so reluctantly revealed was insignificant by comparison to what Raffa had just told her. It was so totally unexpected she sat stunned for a moment. They had both opened up—perhaps more than they had intended to. How often did that happen? Casey wondered.
‘That’s why this country means so much to me.’ Raffa’s eyes were burning with passion. ‘I am investing everything I have, everything I am, in the future of A’Qaban. I have trained my whole life for this moment.’
Raffa’s words moved her deeply and her own concerns paled into insignificance. But he didn’t need her to be ‘moved’, he needed action—and she was confident she could give him exactly what he wanted if he would give her the chance.
‘I’ll support you in any way I can,’ she assured him. ‘We’re going to make a success of this.’
Raffa stood up, preparing to leave. ‘Why do I believe you, Casey Michaels?’
‘Because I haven’t let you down yet?’ The wry tug of her lips acknowledged that she hadn’t been tested yet either. But she would come through for him. She savoured the moment her hand remained in Raffa’s warm, secure grip. She would run this auction for him and his charity and make it work—whatever it took.
Releasing her hand, Raffa shot a look at his no-nonsense steel watch. This was the signal that brought their informal lunch meeting to a close. There was a subtle change in him, she thought, as if he had returned everything to a strictly business footing. Which it always had been for him, she reminded herself.
They left the club with Raffa’s security guards falling into silent formation behind them. Some people outside on the pavement braved the guards’ stern, forbidding faces to call out in support of their new young leader. As Raffa paused to acknowledge these salutations Casey thought how fine the line was between success and disaster. She had so very nearly been sent home on the next plane, and now she had been given a task that exceeded even her wildest expectations.
‘Am I walking too fast for you?’ Raffa turned to look for her.
‘No, this is just fine,’ she said, hurrying after him. Tilting her chin at a determined angle, she assured him, ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll keep up …’
Casey shivered with awareness as Raffa held the car door for her. She passed close enough to feel his energy and inhale his cologne. Her parents had told her that it would take a certain type of man to end Casey’s self-imposed chastity. And she had no doubt Raffa was that type of man. But imagining anything would happen between
