His Suitable Bride(46)
She belatedly wished to high heaven that she hadn’t exchanged experience for magazine articles.
‘No.’ She held her head high. ‘Why should it?’ Good question indeed, and he looked very interested in hearing what she had to say by way of response. She could have hit him! She actually could have resorted to physical violence and swung her handbag at him, wiped that smug half-smile off his face.
She scrabbled around to think of a suitably cutting reply, which was something of a struggle, because cutting replies didn’t come easy to her. Eventually she said, frowning into the distance, ‘I fell in love with a man who isn’t capable of loving me back. Next time, I’ll choose carefully. I’ll go for the guy who wants to put me first, someone who doesn’t think that marriage is some kind of maths equation that can be solved on a piece of paper, someone who isn’t scared of emotional commitment, someone who—’
‘I get the message,’ Rafael cut in, the faintest tinge of colour darkening his aristocratic cheekbones. ‘And where do you think this paragon of saintliness is going to reside—aside from in your own imagination, of course?’
Cristina was finding it difficult to believe that this was the same man who had taken her breath away. ‘I really feel sorry for you, Rafael,’ she said with heartfelt sincerity. She opened the car door, ready to flee to the soothing calm of her little apartment.
‘And that would be because …?’ Why the heck was he feeling that he was losing the battle even though he was winning the war?
‘Because …’ she looked back over her shoulder … ‘.what dreams do you have left if you don’t dream of love and happiness? That’s the one thing all the money in the world can’t buy.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
SIX weeks later, and that parting shot could still make Rafael scowl when he thought about it.
Fortunately for him, he had dusted himself off that whole sorry business with, he liked to think, the ease born of experience. In fact, as he looked across the dinner table at the sexy blonde sitting opposite him, he couldn’t help but smile to himself and wonder whether Cristina was enjoying a similarly happy situation. Or was she, as he liked to imagine, curled up on that squashy patterned sofa in her apartment with a hot cup of cocoa and only her moral high ground for company?
‘Share the joke with me?’
Rafael snapped out of that pleasant train of thought and focused on Cindy. Long-limbed, long-haired, full-lipped Cindy, all the way from America and every inch the advertising executive. She worked for a small but very upwardly mobile company which was now beginning to expand globally, and Rafael had met her at one of the many social events which he had crammed into the past few weeks, ever since the end of his relationship with Cristina. Initially he had found the constant round of parties, openings, dinners and theatre evenings a nightmare of boredom, but he had forced himself to attend them because, as far as he was concerned, he had become lazy in Cristina’s company. He’d been happy to do very little including—and he shuddered to think about it—sitting in front of the television and indulging her passion for certain soap operas.
‘I always smile when I find myself sitting opposite a beautiful woman,’ Rafael said smoothly. ‘You haven’t eaten your fish. No good?’
‘A girl has to …’ Cindy patted her non-existent stomach and smiled ruefully. ‘You know, watch her calorie intake, especially in my job. You’ll never believe this, Rafael, but …’ She leaned forward and whispered in a shocked undertone, ‘Anyone even a teeny weeny bit overweight never gets through to the second round of interviews! You must never repeat that! But it’s more or less a given.’
Rafael grunted something. He was in danger of losing interest, even though Cindy was very perky and very, very sexy. ‘I’m thinking of having a party next weekend.’ He changed the subject. ‘My secretary’s idea. Some important Japanese clients are coming over and she’s suggested an informal affair at my place. Some pretty influential people will be invited.’ He leaned across the table and took one of those long, elegant fingers in his. ‘Care to come?’ He had been seeing Cindy now for a fortnight and he had yet to invite her to his place. He also had yet to sleep with her, but his timetable had been frantic and this was, in actual fact, only the second time they had sat down together.
Her eyes lit up and she produced a thousand-watt smile from somewhere. ‘I’d love to!’ she squealed. It was, he thought, a predictable reaction. ‘What shall I wear, hmm …?’