The Purest of Diamonds(5)

                It was hard not to laugh. ‘Only my pride got bruised.’

                ‘I think we’d better go inside before you have another accident, don’t you, Leila?’

                His smile was indefensibly sexy, she concluded, dragging her gaze away, but it was nice to have a man take care of her for once, especially when she was Ms Independence—not that she was going to make a habit of it, but for a few short minutes on this one special night, it couldn’t hurt to lap up his aura, and she was quite sure Don Leon would find some excuse or other to part company as soon as they were inside the hotel.

                * * *

                So, he’d finally met the third Skavanga sister. And for longer than a ten-second handshake in a receiving line. She had turned out to be quite a surprise. Tense, but funny, Leila Skavanga was hugely lacking in self-confidence for some reason. He didn’t blame her for not relishing the prospect of a party—false smiles and meaningless chit-chat weren’t his favourite form of recreation either.

                It was hard being the youngest in a family, as he knew only too well, though he’d broken free of the constraints imposed on him at a young age. When he’d been young, with absentee parents, and three older brothers to kick him around, not to mention two older sisters, who took great pleasure finishing the job, it was no surprise he’d turned out to be a handful. In his experience you went one of two ways as the youngest child: determined and driven, as he was, or retiring and apologetic, like Leila Skavanga.

                ‘Let’s find the restroom first, to sort out your clothes,’ he suggested as soon as they were inside the hotel. He was feeling unusually protective towards this woman, he realised as Leila glanced at him.

                ‘That was my plan,’ she confirmed as if to let him know that she was setting the ground rules—and she could look after herself, thank you very much.

                ‘Before I intercepted you?’

                ‘Before I landed in your lap,’ she corrected him.

                He laughed into her eyes. He liked the defiance he saw there. There was more to Leila Skavanga than met the eye. But then her cheeks flushed red and she looked away.

                Why was she embarrassed? Too much physical contact? Too much physical contact with him?

                Could Leila really be that innocent? His ingénue radar—rusty from lack of use—said yes. Her sisters weren’t noted for being shy and retiring, which only made Leila all the more intriguing. And when she turned to look at him with eyes that, apart from being very beautiful, were wide and candid, he registered a most definite physical response.

                ‘Come,’ he said, forging a passage for her through the crowd. ‘Let’s get you sorted out so you can enjoy the party.’

                Leila bit her lip to hide her smile. The thought of Raffa Leon ‘sorting her out’ was rather appealing. Thank goodness she had more sense.

                There was one good thing about all this. Everyone was so busy staring at Raffa as they walked through the lobby that no one noticed Leila, or the mud on her clothes.

                Shame on you, Leila Skavanga! Wasn’t this supposed to be your breakout year?

                Pegged as the dreamer of the family—the youngest, the quietest, the peacemaker—if she was ever going to break out of that safe, cosy mould, she had to change, and she had to change now. But not all those changes had to happen tonight. In fact, it would be safer if they didn’t. When she had made that promise to herself that she would change, and that she could change, she hadn’t factored the devil at her side into the equation. Don Rafael Leon, the Duke of Cantalabria, to give Raffa his full title, was not the sort of man to practise anything on. She had set her heart on finding the modern-day equivalent of a pipe and slippers man—someone undemanding and kind. Someone safe. And Raffa Leon was not safe.