was champagne, and Danielle sipped the sparkling liquid, aware of its potential potency, given that she’d eaten a token slice of toast for breakfast and picked at a salad for lunch.
It seemed superfluous, even hypocritical, to have Rafe’s lawyer propose a toast to their union, and a proffered tray of hors d’oeuvres did nothing to tempt her appetite.
Rafe’s gaze narrowed as he caught a flicker of concern chase across Ariane’s features, and he selected a bite-size portion and deliberately fed it to the woman who now bore his name.
He watched as flecks of gold fire sparked in those dark brown eyes, and for a moment he thought she’d refuse. Certain, had they been alone, that she would have.
The lawyer murmured words Danielle didn’t catch, and Rafe placed his champagne flute down on a nearby table. ‘If you’ll join me in the study for a few minutes?’
An affidavit requiring his signature following the marriage. Their agreement was a done deal. All she had to do was deliver…on a very intimate level, and gift him a child.
She felt her stomach twist into a painful knot. There was no room for second thoughts.
Both Ariane and the lawyer took their leave at the same time, and Danielle watched the small sedan ease down the driveway, followed by the lawyer’s late-model BMW.
Rafe turned back towards the lobby, and Danielle followed.
‘The master bedroom is upstairs overlooking the gardens and pool, if you want to freshen up.’ He indicated the wide curving staircase leading to the upper floor. ‘Elena will have unpacked your clothes.’ He pulled back a cuff. ‘Dinner will be served in half an hour.’
She took it as a dismissal, and was relieved when he turned and retraced his steps to the study.
The Spanish influence was much in evidence, Danielle noted as she made her way towards the staircase.
Pale cream marble-tiled floors patterned and edged with a combination of dark grey, black and a heavy forest-green. Mahogany cabinets hugged the wall space, large urns stood atop marble stands, and original artwork graced the cream walls.
High ceilings in the spacious lobby were offset by an elegant crystal chandelier suspended above an ornate water fountain. A wide balustraded staircase led to the upper floor.
Guest rooms each with an en suite, Danielle determined, a comfortable sitting-room, and there was no mistaking the large master bedroom. His-and-her walk-in wardrobes, a large en suite containing luxurious fittings and a spa-bath.
Her toiletries and make-up were neatly positioned at one end of the long marble vanity, her clothing and shoes rested in one of the spacious walk-in wardrobes, and the many drawers held her underwear and lingerie.
She let her gaze skim over the room, noting the pleasing neutral colour scheme in cream and ivory, offset by an abundance of low-and high-set mahogany cabinets, a mirrored dressing-table.
It was impossible not to have her gaze linger on the king-size bed with its heavy quilted spread. Equally difficult to ignore the nervous tension curling painfully in the region of her stomach.
Get a grip, she admonished silently. Rafe Valdez is a man like any other.
However, the prospect of having sex with a man she hardly knew, even within the bounds of marriage, wasn’t in her comfort zone.
Yet all she had to do was occupy his bed, and allow him to fuse his body with her own. Maybe if she fell pregnant quickly, he’d leave her alone.
She drew a deep breath and averted her attention from the bed. Maybe she should change? Yet it seemed doubtful Rafe would exchange his suit for something less formal, unless, she determined with a quick glance at her watch, he chose to do so within the next few minutes.
‘I imagine you’ve had time to acquaint yourself with the layout,’ a deep voice drawled from the doorway, and she turned slowly towards him.
His jacket was hooked over one shoulder, and he’d loosened his tie. He looked dark and dangerous, his breadth of shoulder impressive without the emphasis of superb tailoring.
‘You have a beautiful house.’ She couldn’t for the life of her call it home.
‘Gracias.’ His gaze raked her slender curves. ‘Dinner is almost ready.’
She made an instant decision. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes.’ With smooth movements she entered her walk-in wardrobe, selected a dress at random, then hastily exchanged the ivory suit for a red shift, cinched a gilt belt at her waist, touched up her lipstick, then emerged into the bedroom.
Rafe was waiting for her, and she met his brooding scrutiny with equanimity, then preceded him from the room.
Calm, poise. She possessed the social skills to employ both, and she slipped into the familiar role as he seated her at the dining-room table.
There was more champagne, and Danielle toyed with the idea of sinking into a pleasant alcoholic haze, only to discard it in favour of alternating the champagne with mineral water sipped slowly between each few mouthfuls of food.
Elena had prepared a veritable feast, and Danielle attempted to do justice to each course.
‘Not hungry?’
She met his piercing gaze and held it. ‘Not particularly.’
‘Relax,’ Rafe bade brusquely. ‘I’m not about to sweep all this—’ he paused to indicate the china, crystal and various serving dishes ‘—to one side, and ravish you on the table.’
He watched her eyes widen, then become veiled as her lashes lowered. He was adept at reading an expression, skilled in the art of mind-play.
Most women of his acquaintance would have slipped into seduction mode, teasing with the promise of sensual delights beneath the sheets. Sure knowledge of the sexual act and the mutual pleasure each could derive.
Yet the young woman seated opposite him was consumed with nerves. It was evident in the fast-beating pulse at the edge of her throat, the careful way she consumed each mouthful of food.
‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ She replaced her fork, unable to face another morsel. The image of that broad male frame sweeping the table’s contents to the floor, then crushing her beneath his weight…
‘Dessert?’
‘No.’ Was that her voice? It sounded so calm and controlled, when she was anything but. ‘Thank you,’ she declined.
Elena entered the room, gathered their plates, nodded as Rafe relayed they would take dessert and coffee later, then she left.
The need for conversation prompted Danielle to query, ‘At what age did you leave Andalusia?’
One eyebrow lifted. ‘Question-and-answer time?’
She toyed with the stem of her glass, her gaze level. In this light she could see the tiny lines fanning out from his eyes, the faint groove slashing each cheek. His facial features bore a chiselled look, and his mouth… She could still feel the touch of his lips as he’d claimed
