His Suitable Bride(47)

With admirable self-absorption and a running commentary on how important it was to dress for the part—because, wherever she was, she was always representing her company—Cindy lost herself in pleasant contemplation of the prospect, leaving Rafael time to muse on another dawning idea. A very good idea, as a matter of fact.

He thought of Cristina and her hot cup of cocoa. His mother had been shocked and disappointed at the outcome of their relationship. In fact, for reasons quite beyond him, she had jumped to the conclusion that it had all been his fault—a misunderstanding Rafael had not hastened to remedy, because a complicated story of Cristina and her childish nonsense about not wanting to marry anyone who didn’t spout rubbish about undying love would have upset Maria. Worse, it would have incited lengthy and endless sermons on the topic of his cynicism, which was a trait his mother had never found particularly endearing.

She would heartily approve of him doing the decent thing and inviting his ex to his party. Taking her under his wing, so to speak, for all the right reasons. He had moved on with his life. Wouldn’t it be the generous thing to do to make sure that Cristina wasn’t heading for some kind of depression? He hadn’t heard a word from her since she had flounced out of his car, pink faced and self-righteous, and trying to get information from his mother had been the equivalent of hitting his head on a brick wall.

He had even debated getting in touch with her parents in Italy, just to make sure that the woman hadn’t done something incredibly silly. But then he had reminded himself, with a generous helping of that cynicism his mother so detested, that the only incredibly silly thing Cristina was likely to do would be to waste away her life in search of the non-existent.

‘Are you going to be involved in the arrangements?’

Rafael surfaced and looked blankly at his date for a few seconds. Then he was back to reality, smiling and assuring her that he would naturally be taking no part in arranging anything.

‘Why should you?’ Cindy asked, her green eyes lingering seductively on his face. ‘You’re an important man. Why not let someone else do all the boring stuff?’

‘Why not indeed?’ Rafael murmured. He knew when his ego was being stroked and it was being stroked now. He also knew when a woman’s eyes were lingering on him with one thing in mind. He looked at his watch and then regretfully signalled for the bill. ‘Afraid I’m going to have to let you get your beauty sleep tonight,’ he told her without preamble. ‘I’m on a plane to Australia first thing in the morning, and I have a thousand emails to get through before my head hits the pillow.’

More or less the truth, but if his libido was anything to go by he was really more tired than he’d thought; even that kiss on the lips, which should have had him dismissing his driver and following her into her flat in Battersea, barely got his pulses racing.

‘I’ll be in touch,’ he promised, guiltily aware that she wanted a hell of a lot more than he was in the mood to give. ‘I’m going to get my secretary onto this whole party thing and I’ll let you know the details.’ With the engine running and his driver waiting, Rafael kissed her again, this time with slightly more vigour. But when she would have pulled him closer towards her so that she could press her amazing but surgically enhanced breasts against his chest, he pulled away, gently loosening her hands from his neck.

‘Get something for yourself to wear from Harrods,’ he said, vaguely aware that this was meagre compensation for leaving her on a Saturday night on her own, when she had clearly been offering her company into the early hours of the morning. ‘Just tell them to put it on my account. I’ll make sure my secretary clears it.’

That, at least, did the trick. Cindy’s face, on the verge of a pout, broke into a radiant smile.

‘Are you sure about that?’

Relieved to be off the hook, Rafael nodded and took a step back. ‘Whatever you want,’ he told her. ‘I want you looking … Well, let’s just say you won’t have to try very hard.’

‘But I’ll still enjoy it, especially when I know that you’ll be waiting to see what’s under the sexy clothes as soon as the last person leaves …’

She drew her finger tantalisingly along her exposed cleavage and shot him a slow, coy smile. Rafael could well imagine that a thousand men would have melted from the heat of that smile, but his head was already racing away to the emails he had to send, and to a certain call he would make as soon as he got back to his apartment.

He nodded his head, appreciating her with his eyes, but relieved that his driver gave him the excuse to beat a retreat. His attention was firmly elsewhere by the time he was finally back in his apartment and switching on the lights.