see it,’ he said gruffly.
‘I want to thank you. For showing Simone around the vineyard. For supporting her in her role as bridesmaid today. I knew you could do it.’
‘Save it, angel,’ he muttered. ‘The night’s still young.’
‘I trust you,’ she said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Get to know her again, Rafe. For your own sake. She’s a remarkable woman.’
That was what he was afraid of.
As far as Simone’s extremely well-trained eye could see, everything was unfolding according to plan. The food was magnificent, they had ambrosia for wine, the setting was superb and the execution was flawless. Luc looked relaxed, Gabrielle divine, the guests appeared genuinely happy, and the formalities had been delivered in a mixture of languages and with a great deal of laid-back humour.
Harrison spoke fluent French, Dutch, German and passable Spanish and would prove a valuable addition to the future social events Simone had already started planning in her head.
Not your average Australian cattle farmer.
‘Stop working,’ said a dark, commanding voice as a tall glass of something that looked miraculously a lot like plain old iced water appeared in front of her. ‘Relax for a moment. I’m getting exhausted just watching you. And here, take this. Inigo said to give it to you.’
Inigo was a fiend who’d clearly surrendered to the dark side.
But she took the glass from Rafe’s outstretched hand and positioned him between her and the guests while she slaked her thirst for something without alcohol or bubbles in a most unladylike fashion.
She looked up on returning the glass to him to find that Rafe’s vivid blue eyes had darkened and his body had grown still.
‘I’m wondering which one’s real,’ he murmured. ‘The wanton sensualist or the poised and confident hostess?’
‘They both get a run every now and then,’ she said. ‘Which do you prefer?’
‘Well, that would depend on where you were. And who you were with.’
‘And were I alone with you in some dark secluded corner? Which would you choose then?’
‘You know which one I’d choose, princess.’
‘Actually, I don’t.’ She ignored the princess tag. For now. ‘When I kissed you the other day you definitely didn’t want wanton. You didn’t want any part of it.’
He regarded her in brooding silence. ‘I want to thank you for the build-up you gave the Alexander family tonight,’ he said finally. ‘I hardly recognised myself.’
Simone smiled. She’d embellished a little, but facts were facts. Rafael Alexander was a man to watch, both in business and for the sheer pleasure it afforded people to do so. ‘It might take a while to secure Gabrielle’s position as mistress of Caverness, but she’s made a good start and you and Harrison have helped in no small measure by being charming, successful and socially adept. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you look like a fallen angel either.’
He smiled crookedly. ‘Fallen?’
‘Definitely. You don’t have good boy written all over you, Rafael, and you know it.’
‘Actually, I have “never look back” written all over me,’ he murmured.
‘Trust me,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Dance with me,’ he said.
‘That would require touching. And you know that’s not a good idea.’
‘Do it anyway,’ he murmured. ‘I can be good.’
She did it anyway, and settled tentatively into his arms. Her body thought it belonged there, but Simone begged to differ. They had an audience she’d been working all night and it wouldn’t do to ruin all her good work now. So they danced the way friendly acquaintances danced, and she avoided Rafe’s gaze and stamped down hard on her desire for more.
Gabrielle beamed at them. Luc shot Simone a warning glance. Careful, that glance said. Remember what became of this before.
She hadn’t forgotten. Not the pleasure or the pain.
For now she concentrated on the little things. The feel of her hand resting lightly in Rafael’s, his hand warm and slightly callused to the touch. His other hand at her back, assured, and taking no liberties. They had an audience to play and his sister’s position in society to secure. Rafael knew this as well as she did and the truce held. Only as the dance ended did Rafe reveal the tiniest hint of battle readiness. His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist as he released her. One tiny discreet caress and her senses flamed to life.
Damn he was good when he was being bad.
The bride and groom left at midnight and Rafe—along with everybody else—saw them to the door and into the car Harrison had arranged for them. Harrison would take them to Angels Landing and then he would head on to his own home. Rafe had taken a room at the guest house for the night in order to give the newlyweds their privacy. All that was left for him to do now was bid farewell to the rest of the guests as they departed and then he too could leave, secure in the knowledge of a wedding relatively well handled.
He stayed by the door, seeing people out. Simone did the same, her graceful, charming presence a direct threat to his sanity and his strength of will. Finally, there was no one else left to say goodnight to apart from a handful of guests who’d moved to the bar and were keeping Inigo busy. Rafael figured them for gone, one way or another.
Which left him and Simone. She stood on the step, with darkness at her back and soft yellow light from the restaurant illuminating her exquisite face and turning her gown into a glowing, golden sheath.
‘It’s not over, you know,’ she said quietly, and whether she spoke of the reception, their relationship or the truce he’d agreed to was anyone’s guess, but she was right on all counts.
‘I know,’ he said gruffly. Would she resist if he reached for her and drew her into the shadow of the night? Would she offer him her mouth? He tried to block the memory of that mouth and the things it could do. Such a clever, busy mouth.
Simone’s gaze turned dark and knowing and he knew before she spoke that she was about to acknowledge the beast that hungered inside him and invite it out to play, and she shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t.
‘You should go back inside,’ he murmured.
‘You mean before I do something stupid?’
‘Yes.’
She moved towards him swiftly, right up until the part where she set her lips to his and nipped at his lower lip with her teeth. That bit happened excruciatingly slowly.
It took a second, or maybe a minute, before he could trust himself to breathe. He could feel his control slipping, slipping through his fingers, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the faster it disappeared.
‘Go. Now.’ His words cut at
