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His Ultimate Prize(11)

By:Maya Blake


He glanced around at the plush leather chairs and carefully placed art and sculptures, the high-tech gadgets and priceless rugs.

'Hmm, you could be right. Although that single armchair looks perfect for...de-stressing.'

'Answer my question, Rafael. Why don't you have a home any more?'

His smile dimmed slowly until only raw, untrammelled pain reflected in  his eyes. He held his breath for a long, interminable moment, then he  slowly exhaled. 'Because, querida, everything that meant a damn to me  went up in a ball of flames eight years ago.'





 CHAPTER FIVE

THE GLITTERING BALLROOM of the Hôtel de France had been redesigned to  look like a car showroom, albeit a very expensive car showroom, complete  with elaborately elegant priceless chandeliers.

A vintage Bentley MkVI Donington Special from Rafael's own car collection gleamed beneath a spotlight in the centre of the room.

Raven stood to one side as guests continued to stream in from the  Automobile Club de Monaco where the X1 All-Star event had kicked off  with an opening by the resident head of the Monégasque royal family.

Glancing at the door, she caught sight of Rafael as he chatted to the  head of one of the largest car manufacturers in the world. Dressed in a  black tuxedo with the customary studded shirt and bow tie, it was the  most formal she'd seen him. The sheer stomach-clenching magnetism he  exuded made her clutch her champagne flute harder to stem the fierce  reaction that threatened to rock her off her feet.

As she watched he laughed in response to a joke. Looking at him, it was  hard to believe he was the same man who, for a minuscule moment in time,  had bared a part of his soul to her at the villa three days ago. The  moment had been fleeting-as most of those moments were with Rafael.  Hell, he hadn't even bothered to elaborate after that one cryptic  statement about the ball of flames. But his pain had been unmistakable,  visceral in a way that had cut through her defences.

Far from recoiling from the man he'd revealed, she'd wanted to draw closer, ease his pain.

I'm going loopy.

He glanced over suddenly and held up three fingers. Her fingers flew up  her face to touch her forehead before she could stop herself. Feeling a  wave of heat creep up at his knowing smile, she flung a vaguely rude  sign his way and turned her back on him.

He found her minutes later. 'Are you avoiding me?'

'Nope. You seem to be in your element. How's your hip?'

'Not well enough to attempt a paso doble but I'm holding my own.'

'You never told me what all of this is in aid of.'

'Have you never been to an All-Star event?' he asked.

She shook her head. 'I don't tend to involve myself in out of season activities. I've heard of it, but only in vague terms.'

'So what do you do when the season ends?' He latched onto the revelation.

Raven bit the inside of her lip, then decided she had nothing to lose by  revealing just a little bit more about her personal life. 'I work with  injured soldiers, mostly from Afghanistan and Iraq.'

His eyes narrowed slightly, a solemn look descending over his face.  'This must seem so very pointless and horribly ostentatious to you in  comparison.'

'Since I don't know exactly what this is, I'm prepared to reserve judgement.'

'This is nothing but a huge elaborate scheme to get rich people to preen  and back-slap while reaching into their pockets to fund a few  charities.'

'Good heavens, in that case I condemn you all to Hades,' she said around the smile she couldn't seem to stop.

'Some of us would feel at home there,' he murmured. The bleakness in his  voice made her glance up at him but his features gave nothing away.

Deciding to let it go, she glanced around the glittering ballroom. 'It  must be nice to click your fingers and have everything fall into place  for you like this.'

'Not quite...everything.' His gaze dropped to her lips before returning to capture hers.

Her pulse kicked hard. She fought to pull her gaze away from his but it  only went as far as his mouth. 'Well...consider yourself fortunate,  gluttony being a sin and all that.' She attempted another smile. When  Rafael's own mouth curved into a smile, her heart did a hugely silly  dance then proceeded to bash itself against her ribcage.

He beckoned a waiter, took Raven's champagne and exchanged it for a  fresher-looking glass. He stopped her with a restraining hand on her arm  when she went to sip it.

'Take it easy. It may look like champagne but it's not.'

She eyed the drink warily. 'What is it?'

'It's called Delirium. Don't worry, it's not as sinister or as sleazy as it sounds. Sip it slowly, tell me what you think.'

She did and nearly choked on the tart, potent taste. Almost immediately,  the tartness disappeared to leave her tongue tingling with a thousand  sensations that made her eyes widen. 'Oh my goodness, it's incredible.  What's in it?'

'Edible gold dust and the tiniest drop of adrenaline.'

'You're kidding!'

'About the adrenaline, sí, but not the gold dust. Although, in my  opinion, it's wasted in the drink. I can think of much better uses for  it.' Again his words held a note quite different from his usual  innuendo-laden tone.

The ground didn't quite shift but Raven felt a distinct rumble and  decided to proceed with caution. 'You were about to tell me about the  All-Star event.'

'It's an event I hold every year to get all the racing drivers across  various racing formulas together before the season starts. Here we can  be just friends, instead of championship competitors, while raising  money. It's also an opportunity for retired motor racers to still feel  part of the sport for as long as they want to.'

'How many events are there in total?'

'Six races in six countries.' He waved to a grey-haired man who stood  with a towering brunette with the hugest diamond ring Raven had ever  seen adorning her finger. When the couple beckoned them over, Rafael  sighed and took her elbow.

Raven's irritation at having to share Rafael was absurd considering he  was the host. But, short of being rude, she had no choice but to let  herself be led to the couple.

'Rafael!' the brunette's husky voice gushed a second before she threw  herself into Rafael's arms. Dropping Raven's arm, he deftly caught the  woman before she could unbalance him and laughed off her throaty murmurs  of apology.

They conversed in fluent French as Raven stood to the side.

'Let me introduce you-Sergey Ivanov and his wife, Chantilly. Sergey owns the Black Rock team.'

'And I own his heart,' Chantilly gushed. But even while she planted an  open-mouthed kiss on her husband, her eyes were gobbling up Rafael.

Raven tried not to retch as she murmured what she hoped were appropriate  conversational responses. After ten unbearable minutes, she was about  to make her excuses and escape to the ladies' room when she saw  Chantilly reach into her bag. With her husband deep in conversation with  Rafael, neither man noticed as she withdrew an expensive lipstick and  pulled closer to Rafael.

Raven barely held back her horrified gasp as she saw what Chantilly was doing.

'Did she write her number on your walking stick?' she asked the moment the couple walked away.

He lifted the stick and peered at it. 'Hmm, I believe she did. Interesting...'

Irrational anger bubbled up through her. 'Excuse me.' She barely spat  out the words before marching off to the ladies' room. She forced  calming breaths into her lungs, calling on every control-restoring  technique she knew to help her regain her equanimity.

But when she couldn't even summon up the will to make conversation on the ride back to the villa, she knew she'd failed.

At the door, she bit out a terse goodnight, nearly tripping over the hem  of the black sequined gown she'd hastily shopped for in Monaco that  morning. She was unused to such elaborate, expensive outfits, as was her  credit card, but as she went up to her room, the slide of the seductive  material over her heated skin was unmistakable.                       
       
           



       

Or was it Rafael's gaze on her bare back that caused sensations to skitter all over her body?

She didn't care. All she cared about was getting away from the man who,  in more ways than she was willing to admit, was cut from the same cloth  as her father.

* * *

'I can feel the volcanic waves rising off your body,' Rafael drawled as  they finished the last of his exercises next to the large, sparkling  infinity pool the next morning. 'I hope your outrage didn't keep you up  all night?' His blatant amusement set her teeth on edge.

She stepped back from the bench she'd set up outside, and especially  from the man whose potent sweat-mingled scent made her head swim. Taking  a deep breath, she fought the feeling.

'Are you seriously so without a moral compass that you don't see  anything wrong with a married woman slipping you her phone number right  in front of her husband?' she asked, her insides twisting with raw acid.

'Your claws are showing again, piqueña.'

'I don't have claws, certainly not where you're concerned. I'm merely disgusted.'

From his position lying flat on the bench, he rose smoothly into a  sitting position. 'But you could be so much more if you'd just say the  word.'