A Touch of Notoriety

by Carole Mortimer

  Raphael followed more slowly, his mouth tightening as the older man, now standing at the bar ordering a drink, nodded to him in passing as the waitress took them to a table looking out onto the gardens.

  He should not have given in to the temptation to kiss her. Certainly should not have placed her in a position of public ridicule.

  Beth waited until the waitress had taken their food order and served the bottle of wine Raphael had ordered, before taking an obviously much-needed gulp of it. ‘The notice outside said they have rooms available here, so maybe we should take that man’s advice.’ She looked across at him.

  Raphael drew in a sharp breath, a frown having appeared between his eyes as he looked up from the menu he had been studying. ‘I do not think so,’ he finally bit out tautly as Beth finished off the rest of the wine in her glass.

  ‘Why not?’ she prompted as the waitress hurried over to refill her wine glass.

  He arched dark brows. ‘Well, for one thing, your brother is my best friend, and as such I know Cesar well enough to know that he would wish to inflict actual bodily harm on anyone who took advantage of you at this moment.’

  ‘Even if my invitation means I’m the one intending to take advantage of you?’

  ‘Even then,’ he assured her harshly. ‘Secondly, you appear to be well on your way to becoming inebriated, and I do not seduce inebriated women.’

  ‘What if she’s the one doing the seducing?’

  ‘Beth—’

  ‘Raphael?’ she came back softly as she deliberately picked up the now full wine glass and took another challenging sip.

  ‘Eat something before you drink any more, hmm?’ He reached across the table and carefully removed the glass from her hand before placing it down onto the table between them.

  She leant back in her chair. ‘And if I promise to eat something, and not drink any more wine, are you still going to refuse me?’

  He drew in a hissing breath. ‘You are upset, and not thinking clearly at the moment—’

  ‘I’m thinking clearly enough to remember I wasn’t in the least inebriated when the two of us last made love.’

  Raphael breathed deeply. ‘That was different.’

  ‘In what way was it different?’ She arched one blond brow. ‘Because that time you were the one to instigate the seduction rather than me?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Raphael snapped his impatience. ‘But you have received a shock today, and you are upset, and I should not have kissed you just now.’

  ‘Raphael, if you don’t make love to me tonight, then I’m going out to find someone else who will,’ she assured her determinedly.

  Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he easily noted the reckless light in those dark brown eyes, and the rebellious tightening of her lips.

  ‘Do you have someone in mind?’

  Her chin rose challengingly. ‘And if I do?’

  ‘Then I would advise against it,’ he bit out harshly.

  ‘And if I choose not to take your advice?’

  His shoulders moved in a stiff shrug. ‘That is your prerogative, of course.’

  ‘And you’re saying it wouldn’t bother you?’

  Oh, yes, it would bother Raphael very much to imagine Beth making love with another man. More than he cared to think about. Or acknowledge.

  She sat forward, her dark gaze holding his as she spoke softly. ‘I could feel how much you wanted me a few minutes ago…’

  How much Raphael still wanted her, his engorged shaft a throbbing ache between his thighs. ‘You are playing with fire, little one,’ he advised gruffly.

  Beth already knew that, was only too aware of the desire she could still see burning in Raphael’s piercing blue gaze. And she longed for that burn, wanted to be alone with Raphael, in the privacy of a bedroom, and know the full force of the desire he had minutes ago demonstrated he felt for her. And not, as Raphael seemed to think, because she was ‘upset’ or ‘not thinking straight’. Oh, that probably played some part in it, was allowing her to do and say things she might otherwise not have said or done. But the truth of the matter was she wanted Raphael to make love to her. Had wanted that since the moment she first looked at him over a week ago…

  She reached over and placed her hand on top of his as it rested on the table. ‘I don’t want anyone else but you, Raphael.’

  He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘You don’t even know me—’

  ‘I know far more about you than you realise,’ she assured him softly. ‘For instance, I know that you’re thirty-three years old, that you went to the same school as Cesar, that your father owns a successful vineyard and ranch in Argentina, but that for your own private reasons you are estranged from that father and prefer to work with Cesar, your closest friend, that your sister Rosa is special to you—’

  ‘Enough!’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw as he glared across the table at her.

  Beth was prevented from answering him for several minutes as she removed her hand as the waitress arrived with their food, a cheese salad for her, and chicken and salad for Raphael. ‘You’re right, Raphael, I am upset at the moment,’ she continued huskily once the two of them were alone again, ‘and a little emotionally off balance from all that I’ve learnt today. But,’ she continued firmly as he would have spoken, ‘not so much that I don’t know what I’m doing. What I’m asking.’

  That nerve still pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘And you want— Let me get this clear. You are asking that the two of us spend the night here together, making love?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He gave a shake of his head. ‘It is a natural reaction to want to reaffirm life after the shock of death—’

  ‘Elizabeth Lawrence died twenty-one years ago, Raphael.’

  ‘As far as you are concerned, she died only hours ago!’

  That was true. And Beth Blake had died hours ago as surely as Elizabeth Lawrence had. It now only remained for Gabriela Navarro to be reborn. But before that happened Beth wanted this one last thing for herself. Wanted to spend the night with Raphael, the man who had made it clear to her that he considered Gabriela Navarro to be off limits to him, for all of the reasons he had previously stated. ‘Are you going to make me beg, Raphael?’ she prompted huskily.

  Raphael groaned inwardly. Dear God in heaven! The last thing he wanted was for Beth to beg him for anything, least of all to make love with her, something he had ached to do from the moment she had arrived in Argentina over a week ago.

  He hadn’t known exactly who she was at that time, of course, had only been introduced to her as Grace Blake’s younger sister, but even so he had wanted her. Had taken one look at the beauty of her face surrounded by that cascade of raggedly styled blond hair, the lean and yet curvy lines of her body, and felt his shaft thicken with instant and pulsing arousal. The same desire and arousal that had consumed his every waking moment since.

  So much so that having Cesar ask him to take care of Beth’s security had been like asking a drug addict to watch over a heroine shipment, or the alcoholic to guard the distillery.

  And now Beth was asking—offering to beg, if necessary—for him to make love to her…

  CHAPTER NINE

  USUALLY BETH HAD a problem knowing what the enigmatic Raphael was thinking or feeling at any given moment, but here and now, seated across a varnished dining table in an innocuous country inn, she had no problem at all reading the desire, battling with conscience, in the tightness of his expression. Right now, at this moment, Raphael wanted her as much as she wanted him, he just wanted her to be very sure as to why it was she was suggesting the two of them spend the night here together.

  She breathed in deeply. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment?’ She placed her napkin carefully down on the table top before standing up.

  ‘Beth?’ Raphael reached out to lightly grasp her hand as she would have walked past him, his gaze searching as he looked up at her.

  She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll only be a coup
le of minutes.’

  ‘Oh.’ His brow cleared and he slowly released her hand. ‘I noticed the sign for the ladies’ room out in the hallway as we came in.’

  ‘So did I.’ She nodded her thanks before walking away.

  Except Beth wasn’t going anywhere near the ladies’ room…

  * * *

  Raphael was more than a little concerned when Beth hadn’t returned within ten minutes of leaving the table; either she had become ill once she reached the privacy of the ladies’ room or she had decided to somehow leave without telling him to go in search of that ‘someone else’ who would agree to spend the night with her. The former he could deal with, if it became necessary, but his discomfort at the thought of it being the latter wasn’t helped in the least by the fact that the older man from earlier kept shooting him raised-eyebrow glances from the bar area—as if he also suspected that Beth might have run out on him!

  Just when Raphael had reached the point where his security instincts told him he had to go in search of her, he sensed her presence beside him—and smelt that wonderful fresh feminine smell that was entirely Beth: lemons, flowers, and warm enticing woman! His breath caught in his throat, a quiver running the length of his spine, as she paused to run her fingers lightly over his shoulder and down his arm before moving forward to resume her seat across from him at the table.

  ‘Sorry about that—it took longer than I thought.’ Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes a bright glittering brown, as she carefully placed a key attached to a numbered wooden square down on the table between them.

  Raphael’s gaze was riveted on that key, and its implications. ‘What have you done?’ he breathed softly.

  ‘Nothing yet,’ she came back pertly. ‘But once we’ve finished our meal I’m hoping that the two of us will go upstairs and finish what we started outside. Unless you would rather forgo the rest of our meal and go upstairs to our bedroom now?’

  Raphael’s lids rose as he looked across at her, the slightly uncertain expression in her eyes, and the anxious way in which she chewed on her bottom lip, both a complete contradiction of her breezily confident tone.

  ‘That is what you were doing just now—arranging a room for the two of us to stay here overnight?’

  ‘Yes…’ That anxiety had darkened her eyes now. ‘Unless you would really rather not?’

  Unless Raphael would rather not…!

  He had been displeased at the thought of Beth having become ill from the strain she had been under these past few hours, from seeing that damning gravestone, but even so he was sure that was a problem he could have coped with. But the mere thought of Beth having somehow left here to return to London, in order to go to that ‘someone else she had in mind to make love with her tonight’, had made Raphael feel as angry as it did physically ill. If any man was going to make love to Beth tonight, then it was going to be him!

  ‘You know, Raphael, it isn’t in the least flattering that you’re taking so long to make up your mind.’ There was a brittle tension beneath her cajoling tone.

  Raphael gave a tight smile. ‘I am merely trying to decide whether you would benefit from finishing your meal, or whether it would be better for us to go straight upstairs.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He almost widened his smile at her look of confusion. Almost. He was too tense with need for this woman to find any real humour in this situation. ‘Perhaps you are now having second thoughts?’

  Her chin rose. ‘Not in the least,’ she assured him firmly.

  He nodded. ‘In that case, I think you might benefit from the extra energy the food will give you.’

  Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed, her cheeks having flushed a deep pink. ‘That sounds…interesting.’

  Raphael eyed her ruefully. ‘But not what you were expecting my answer to be?’

  Beth had no idea what she had expected Raphael’s reaction to be when she returned to the table and told him she had arranged for the two of them to stay here together tonight. She only knew that she wanted him, wanted those hours of being aware of nothing else, of thinking of nothing else but Raphael, of saying to hell with the rest of the world as they explored and pleasured each other. She wanted that more than she wanted her next breath!

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Could we go upstairs now? Right now?’ she added urgently, her knuckles showing white as she gripped the edge of the table.

  He gave an abrupt nod. ‘If that is what you wish.’

  She gave a tremulous smile. ‘A little enthusiasm on your part would be welcome about now!’

  Raphael looked at her blankly for several long seconds before he breathed out raggedly, a nerve pulsing in his clenched jaw as he leant forward over the table, his eyes a deep and piercing cerulean blue as he easily held Beth’s gaze captive. ‘Would my telling you that I have remained hard and aching for you since we kissed outside earlier count as “enthusiasm”?’

  Her breath hitched in her throat. ‘Oh, yes…’

  ‘Also that I have been able to think of little else but kissing and suckling your beautiful and responsive breasts since I last touched you there?’

  Her eyes widened as she thought of the last time—the only time—Raphael had touched her breasts so intimately. That evening in the gym. Two days ago…

  ‘That I have been longing to touch you again, to stroke between your thighs, to pleasure you, slowly and then harder, until your muscles tighten and ripple in orgasm about the thrust of my fingers?’

  Beth’s face was fiery hot as she found herself unable to look away from the fierceness of Raphael’s gaze, so aroused just listening to him describe making love to her she could barely breathe; her nipples felt full and aching, between her thighs moist as her channel became swollen in anticipation of that sweet penetration, that hard little nubbin already an aching throb.

  ‘And afterwards I want to taste you there,’ Raphael continued softly. ‘Take my time kissing slowly down your body, until I can place my lips and tongue on you—’

  ‘Perhaps we should go now?’ Beth had heard enough, was already so aroused by the things Raphael was saying to her that she was in danger of reaching that climax just sitting here listening to him describe all the wonderful things he was going to do to her.

  ‘And then I want to thrust my tongue inside you, again and again, squeezing your breasts and plucking your nipples as I make you come that way the second time—’

  ‘Raphael…!’ She was so wet and aching now she shifted uncomfortably on the seat as her trousers felt too tight and restrictive.

  ‘The third time I want to—’

  ‘The third time?’ She gasped weakly, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, and her skin feeling damp, just from listening to the sensuous and mesmerising rumble of Raphael’s voice as it moved over her like a caress.

  He nodded. ‘A woman may have as many orgasms as the man is experienced enough to give her.’

  ‘And you’re very experienced?’

  His mouth quirked self-derisively. ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘And the man?’ she challenged.

  ‘Me?’ He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders. ‘After the first two times—the first will be fast and hard, because I have wanted you for too long for it to be any other way, and the second slow and intense, because I want to explore every single part of your body before I allow myself the pleasure of plunging between your thighs a second time—it will be for you to decide how many more times, and in what ways, you will make me hard and hot for you.’

  It was as if Beth had opened a door, pressed a switch somewhere deep inside Raphael, releasing a man who was dark and primal. A man who it seemed had held back in their lovemaking so far—out of a desire not to shock or alarm her?—but was making it clear he no longer intended doing so. His next comment confirmed that was his intention.

  ‘Think carefully, Beth,’ he warned gruffly. ‘Be absolutely sure, before we go up those stairs together, that you want all that I want, because I
doubt, once we are alone and both naked, that I will be able to stop from indulging in every erotic fantasy I have ever had about you. And there have been many,’ he acknowledged wryly.

  Beth wasn’t sure that she knew, let alone was familiar with, all of the things promised in the hard sensuality of Raphael’s glittering blue gaze. But she shivered with the anticipation of wanting to know. Oh, yes, here and now, with this man, she wanted that—wanted Raphael!—so very much…

  She stroked her tongue across the dryness of her lips, drawing her breath in sharply as Raphael’s eyes took on an almost feral fierceness as his heated gaze followed that sweeping caress. ‘I told you, Raphael, I want you, all of you, in whatever way you want me.’ And if that included lovemaking as she had never imagined it, let alone come close to experiencing, in the one or two forays she had made into the physical side of a relationship during her years at university, then so be it.

  ‘And I need to know it is not something you will regret in the morning!’ he rasped harshly.

  Beth winced. ‘Can’t we let the morning take care of itself?’

  A nerve pulsed in his clenched jaw. ‘No.’

  She frowned, not sure what Raphael wanted from her—and knowing that most men of her acquaintance would take what she was offering, and to hell with the why she was offering!

  But not Raphael…

  Was she in love with him? Was that the real reason she wanted to spend her last night as Beth Blake in Raphael’s arms?

  She did know that Raphael affected her like no other man she had ever met, that he had done so since the moment she first looked at him, arousing her interest, her own sexual fantasies, at the same time as he annoyed her.

  But Raphael was a physically experienced man in his thirties, not a boy as green as Beth was, and whatever he asked of her during the night ahead she knew she would gladly give. She didn’t want to give herself—or Raphael!—the time to work out why that was. ‘Could we not analyse the spontaneity out of this, Raphael?’ she answered him impatiently.

  ‘I just need you to be very sure—’