'Of course, Mistress Raven. I look forward to the many and varied ways you intend to whip me into shape.' With a step sideways that still managed to encroach on her body space and bring even more of his pulsing body heat slapping against her, he adjusted the walking stick and sauntered away in a slow, languid walk.
Hell, even a limping Rafael de Cervantes managed to move with a swagger that made her heart race. Tearing her traitorous gaze away from his tight butt, she hurried up the floating staircase to her room. Gritting her teeth against the firestorm of emotions that threatened to batter her to pieces, she changed into her workout gear. The simple act of donning the familiar attire calmed her jangling nerves.
But she couldn't forget that, once again, Rafael had cut through the outer layer of her defences and almost struck bone, almost peeled back layers she didn't want uncovered.
She pushed the niggling sensation away and shoved her feet into comfortable trainers. After a minute's debate, she decided on the gym instead of her preferred outdoor regime. Even though the day was edging towards evening, the Spanish sun blazed far too hot for the gruelling exercise she needed to restore balance to her equilibrium.
She took the specially installed lift that divided her suite from Rafael's to the sub-basement level where the state-of-the-art gym was located. It was the only room in the whole house that didn't have an exhibitionist's view to the outside.
Rafael's house held no concrete walls, only thick glass interspersed with steel and chrome pillars. At first the feeling of exposure had preyed on her nerves, but now the beauty of the architecturally stunning design had won her over. Nevertheless, right this minute she was grateful for the enclosed space of the gym. Here she didn't need to compose herself, didn't need to hold back her punches as she slammed her gloved fist into the punching bag. Pain repeatedly shot up her arms, and gradually cleared her mind.
She was here to do her job. Which started and ended with helping Rafael heal properly and regain the utmost mobility. Once she achieved her aim and made peace with her part in his accident, she could walk away from the crazy, bone-deep, completely insane attraction she felt for the man who was in every shape and form the epitome of the man who'd fathered her.
The man whose playboy lifestyle had mattered to him on so deep a level he'd turned his back on his parental responsibilities until they'd been forced on him by the authorities. The same man who'd stood by and barely blinked while his friends had tried to put their hands on her.
Punch!
Her hand slipped. The bag continued its lethal trajectory towards her. Only her ingrained training made her sidestep the heavy-moving bag before it knocked her off her feet. Chest heaving, she tugged off the gloves and went to the climbing frame and chalked her hands.
Clamping her lids shut, she regulated her breathing and forced herself to focus.
Rafael would not derail her. She'd made a colossal mistake and vocalised her roiling disgust for his lifestyle at the most inappropriate moment. Whatever the papers had said, Raven knew deep down she was partly, if not wholly, responsible for putting Rafael in the dangerous frame of mind that had caused his accident. She also knew things could've turned out a million times worse than they had. This was her penance. She would help him get back on his feet. Then she would leave and get on with the rest of her life.
Reaching high, she grabbed the first handhold.
By the time she reached the top seven minutes later, her new course of action was clearly formulated.
* * *
'I've laid out the itinerary for the next three months. If you cooperate, I'm confident I can get you back to full health and one hundred per cent mobility with little or no after-effects,' she started crisply as she opened the door and entered Rafael's study. She approached his desk, only to stop when she noticed his attention was caught on the papers strewn on his glass-topped desk.
'I'm talking to you, Rafael.'
'I heard you,' he muttered, and held out his hand for the sheet without looking up. After a cursory glance, he started to shake his head. 'This isn't going to work.' He slapped it down and picked up his own papers.
Raven waited a beat. When he didn't look up, she fought a sharp retort. 'May I ask why not?'
'I have several events to host and meetings to attend between now and when the X1 season starts. Your itinerary requires that I stand still.'
She frowned. 'No, it doesn't.'
'It might as well. You've upped the regime from two to three times a day with sports massages thrown in there that would require me to be stationary. And was that acupuncture I saw in there?' His derisive tone made her hackles rise higher. 'I'll be travelling a lot in the next three months. You're sorely mistaken if you think I intend to take time off to sit around being pricked and prodded.'
She watched the light glint off his damp hair. 'What do you mean, you'll be travelling a lot? You're supposed to be recuperating.'
Steely blue eyes met hers and instantly Raven was reminded of the unwavering determination that had seen him win several racing championships since he'd turned professional at nineteen.
'I have a multi-billion-dollar company to run, or have you forgotten?'
'No, I haven't. But wasn't...isn't Marco in charge for the time being? He told me he had everything in hand when we discussed my helping you-'
His eyes narrowed. 'What else did you discuss with my brother?'
Mouth dry, she withstood his stare. 'What do you mean?'
'I expected an element of confidentiality when I hired you...'
'What exactly are you accusing me of?'
'You will not discuss details of my health with anyone else but me, is that clear?'
'I didn't-'
'You're glowing.' His gaze raked her face down to her neck and back up again.
'Excuse me?'
'You look...flushed. If I weren't painfully aware of the unlikelihood of it, I'd have said you had just tumbled from a horizontal marathon in a lover's bed. Not quite tumbled to within an inch of your life, more like-'
'Can we get back to this, please?' She waved the sheet in his face then slammed it back in front of him.
He shrugged and sat back in his plush leather chair, the cool, calm businessman back in place. 'Marco has his own company to run...and a new family to attend to. Besides, he's taking a well-earned break, so I'm managing his company as well.'
A wave of shock nearly rendered her speechless. 'And you didn't think to speak to me before you decided all this?'
'I wasn't aware I needed your permission to live my life or run my business.' His voice, a stiletto-thin blade, skimmed close to her skin.
She took a breath and searched for calm, a state which she'd concluded long ago was near on impossible when in Rafael's presence. 'It's part of the contract we agreed. If you're going to take on any substantial amount of work I'll need to know so I can formulate your therapy accordingly. For goodness' sake, you can't go from zero to full-time work in the space of an afternoon. And I really don't know what you were thinking, telling your brother you'd take on this amount of work for the next goodness knows how long!'
Rafael's gaze dropped to her annoyed almost-pout and fought not to continue downward to the agitated heaving of her breasts. Peachy...the smooth skin of her throat glowed a faint golden-pink. He'd long been fascinated by how a woman with jet-black hair such as hers could have skin so pale it was almost translucent. He knew she took care to stay out of the sun and practised her exercises before daybreak.
An image of her, streamlined, sleek and poised upside down in a martial arts pose, slammed into his brain. The groin-hardening effect made him grip his pen harder. His gaze fell once more on her lips and it was all he could do not to round his desk, clasp her face in his hands and taste her. Or maybe coax her round to him, pull down that prim little skirt she'd donned and discover the delights underneath.
Dios, focus!
'Luckily, I don't answer to you, mi dulzura.' He certainly had no intention of enlightening her on what he'd been working steadily on for over a month; what he hadn't stopped thinking of since he'd woken from his coma.
Because finding a way to occupy his mind was the only sure way of keeping his many and varied demons at bay.
'...I hope to hell you're not thinking of adding racing to this insane schedule.' She paled a little as she said it and the usual kick of satisfaction surged.
'And what if I am?' He moderated his voice despite the cold fist of pain that lodged in his gut. Unless a miracle happened, his racing career was over. A part of him had accepted that. Deep inside his soul, however, it was another matter.
'I'm hoping it won't come to that. Because you know as well as I do, you're in no shape to get into a racing cockpit.'
He raised an interested brow. 'And how exactly do you intend to stop me?'
Her delectable lips parted but no words emerged, and her eyes took on a haunted look that made him grit his teeth. 'I can't, I suppose. But I think you'll agree you're not in the best shape.'