“Calamity averted, although tomorrow’s going to be hell.” Rafe squeezed Nicole’s shoulder and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “You’re welcome to join me in the war room, but you might rather read or watch some movies, or someone can take you shopping if you like. I have accounts in all the shops.” He’d not met a woman who didn’t like to shop, particularly when someone else was paying.
“First, fuck you on the shopping,” she said, gimlet-eyed and direct. “And second—what kind of espionage?”
No way he was responding to her shopping statement, but damn, that was a first. “Bad actors are always trying to upload our research. When it’s a government player, they have beaucoup resources.” He smiled. “Ganz will get it done though. He used to work for this particular group.”
“Rafe! Rafe! Darling!!”
He glanced up just in time to brace himself against the twin blondes in skimpy, pastel dresses who launched themselves at him. Absorbing the impact of their bodies with a grunt, Rafe swiftly disentangled himself from their embraces, stepped back, whispered, “Sorry,” to Nicole and reclaimed her in a one-armed hug. “We’re just leaving.” He nodded at the two models who were offering him their best camera-ready smiles. “But have yourself a good time. The band is rocking tonight.”
“Screw the band,” one of the women said, with a toss of her blond curls.
And she probably had, Rafe thought.
She’d certainly screwed Rafe, Nicole decided, although her little-girl lisp was really out of place with those humongous man-made boobs and six feet of blond goddess.
“We’ll come with you,” the other half of the matched pair said in a husky contralto that better matched her Nordic height and accent. “The more the merrier… isn’t that what you always say, Rafe?”
“Sorry, ladies, I’m with Nicole.”
“So? Our bed is big enough for everyone.” The blond beauty glanced at Nicole. “You don’t mind, do you? Rafe’s always up to it”—she gave him a lewd wink—“aren’t you, darling?”
“We’re going to pass,” Rafe said smoothly. “My girlfriend’s jealous.”
“Girlfriend!!” Their unbridled shrieks turned heads at the concierge tables as well as from guests passing by; the young doorman stifled his grin.
Nicole lifted her hand, gave a tiny wave. “That would be me. Rafe insisted, didn’t you?” She gazed up at Rafe with adoration. “He’s sooo romantic.”
Ignoring the twins’ gape-mouthed astonishment, Rafe played his part with equal aplomb. “Only for you, kitten.” And leaning down, he gave her a lingering kiss.
A blast of music flowed outward briefly as the door to the bar opened and closed.
“Hey, Nicole! I thought I saw you inside!”
Rafe lifted his head, stared, then frowned. “You know him?”
Before Nicole could answer, Andre de Barre was standing before them, his gaze resting on Nicole’s cleavage for a moment too long before he looked up and greeted everyone. “Hey, Mia and Tig, how’s it going?” Taking note of Rafe’s arm around Nicole’s shoulders, he gave his rival the briefest of nods, then turned a beaming smile on Nicole. “I had a great time last night! Or morning, by the time we got home,” he added with a wink. “Did you get my roses?”
“Morning?” Rafe’s murmur was deceptively soft.
“I did. Thank you, they were lovely.” Nicole replied, aware of Rafe’s tone, and not intimidated but still wishing she were anywhere but here. The Valkyrie twins were giving her the evil eye, wanting her gone, wanting the Rafe they knew and lusted after back in their large bed. While sweet Andre, looking even more youthful next to Rafe’s powerful masculinity, appeared oblivious to Rafe’s icy glare. Shit.
“Looks like you’re the lucky one tonight, Contini,” Andre said in grudging complaint. But a moment later, he reminded himself that Rafe had a short attention span when it came to female company, so his smile was in place again as he turned to Nicole. “Maybe we could do something tomorrow. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“She’s busy,” Rafe said brusquely.
“The next day then.”
“She’s busy then too.”
Andre’s gaze swiveled from Nicole to Rafe, puzzlement writ large on his face. “Are you relatives or something? Is the family all here on holiday?”
“Fortunately we’re not relatives,” Rafe drawled, the cadence carrying a residual warning. “Now fuck off.”
“Rafe, for heaven’s sake,” Nicole muttered testily, drawing away from Rafe’s encircling arm. “Don’t be rude. I’m sorry, Andre. Perhaps—”