The Purest of Diamonds(20)

                Britt and Eva were transfixed, while Leila’s heart was pumping like crazy. If this was a serious offer, and it certainly seemed to be, it would be her first proper trip out of Skavanga. And with Raffa!

                As the spotlight swung away and the conversation returned to less controversial topics Raffa’s attention remained fixed on her face, leaving her to wonder if she’d survived this game of teasing, or if she was heading for a fall.

                ‘We’re going to dance,’ Britt announced. ‘Leila?’

                ‘Oh, no. I’m okay, thank you.’

                ‘Will you excuse us if we leave you two alone?’ Britt pressed, still obviously concerned for Leila.

                ‘Yes, of course,’ Leila reassured her. ‘You go right ahead.’

                Raffa stood politely as both her sisters left the table with their partners, and then he sat down again, while Leila clung to a life raft in the shape of a chair.

                ‘Shall we?’ he suggested, glancing at the packed dance floor.

                ‘You want to dance with me?’

                ‘I don’t see anyone else sitting here.’

                As a smile curved Raffa’s lips she knew this was not remotely sensible. ‘Dancing’s really not my thing.’

                ‘But I thought we had a pact?’

                To tease her sisters, not to bring disaster in the shape of a hot, bad man crashing down on her head. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to our pact.’

                ‘What if I want you to?’

                As a catalogue of potential pitfalls flashed through her head she felt it was time to come clean. ‘Really—there’s no need to continue being polite to me.’

                ‘Who said I’m being polite?’ Raffa demanded, reaching for her hand.

                She couldn’t refuse—not with people staring at them and shooting admiring glances at Raffa. She stood and exhaled shakily as he drew her by the hand towards the dance floor, and gave another shaky exclamation when he pressed her close. He hadn’t been joking about dirty dancing. She could hardly breathe. Or maybe that was too much excitement. Heat was rampaging through her as she came into contact with every alarming contour of his body.

                ‘I thought you wanted to dance,’ Raffa prompted when she remained quite still.

                ‘You wanted to dance,’ she reminded him, reluctant to end her sensory exploration of a man who was every bit as hard as he looked.

                ‘Yes. With you,’ he confirmed, tightening his grip.

                Raffa didn’t take no for an answer, Leila discovered as he swept her round the floor.

                And her sisters were watching. Watching? They were agog. And now they were dancing round her to take a closer look. ‘Bandits at twelve o’clock,’ she warned, making the mistake of meeting the slumbering sexual heat in Raffa’s eyes.

                ‘I like your style, Leila Skavanga,’ he murmured, his voice all husky and rough.

                ‘Really?’ She prepared herself for some glowing compliment from the master of charm. ‘Why?’

                ‘Stubborn. Tricky. Unpredictable.’ Raffa shrugged. ‘I never know what to expect from you.’