Hot Nights with a Spaniard (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases)

by Carole Mortimer

  Cairo moistened dry lips, unable to speak or look away from that mesmerizing gaze.

  ‘If you won’t let me touch you, then let me tell you all the things I’ve been imagining doing with you,’ Rafe said gruffly. ‘Wild, wonderful things—’

  ‘Rafe—’

  ‘Erotic beautiful things,’ he continued mercilessly, his eyes gleaming with the desire he no longer held in check. ‘You see that wall behind you …? Yes, that wall,’ he confirmed softly as Cairo gave the low stone wall a quick glance. ‘I want to slip off your jeans and panties before sitting you on top of that wall and kneeling in front of you. I want to slowly unbutton your blouse to bare your breasts to the sun so that I can touch them, kiss them, lick your nipples, suckle them into the heat of my mouth—’

  ‘Rafe …!’ Cairo’s intended groan of protest instead came out as an aching entreaty for him to continue, her skin becoming sensitized just by his words, by the evocative image he was creating, her nipples hard against the soft material of her blouse, and a moist heat pooling between her thighs.

  His eyes were dark. ‘Then I want to kiss my way—slowly—down to your navel.’ His voice was low, hypnotic. ‘Dipping my tongue, tasting you, before I go lower, parting your legs even as I part your glossy curls and find the very centre of you with my lips and tongue. I still remember the taste of you there, Cairo. So sweet and hot …’ He groaned.

  ‘Rafe, you have to stop this now!’ she choked, all of her feeling on fire now, aching with a need for the things he had described so eloquently.

  ‘Why do I, Cairo?’ His gaze still held hers. ‘I’m only talking, telling you of the things I would like to do with you.’

  Cairo could feel every single one of them! Could feel his hands and lips against her breasts, suckling her nipples, his mouth hot and liquid across the flatness of her stomach as he moved lower, tasting that pool of moisture there, licking her, sucking ever so gently on her arousal and taking her over the edge into wild oblivion. She could feel all of that just as strongly as she felt the sun beating down on them.

  Just as she could imagine touching Rafe, her hands gliding lovingly over the broadness of his bare shoulders and torso, her lips following that same path, kissing him, caressing him as she slowly made her way down to the hard thrust of his arousal, lips and tongue tasting him as she took him in her mouth and felt his response to those caresses, hearing his groans of longing, his need for release …

  Why had everything gone so wrong between them eight years ago? she wondered achingly. Why, when she had loved him so much, given so much—when they had been able to give each other such physical pleasure—hadn’t she been enough for him?

  They were questions Cairo had asked herself many times over the years. The answers were all too obvious.

  With the prospect of a month’s filming on the Isle of Man—a beautiful unspoilt island but nevertheless one that offered very little in the way of entertainment for a man as rakish as Rafe Montero—Cairo must have been an easy conquest, a diversion in what might otherwise have been a tedious time for him when he wasn’t actually filming.

  Admittedly the relationship had continued for a while longer once they’d all returned to London to complete the filming, Cairo more often than not spending the night in Rafe’s penthouse suite at his hotel with him, the two of them even occasionally going out to dinner with Margo and Jeff.

  But somewhere along the way Cairo had missed the signs that Rafe was tired of the relationship. She knew why she had missed them, of course; her own love for Rafe had made her completely blind to anyone and everything else!

  She had certainly been blind to the fact that Rafe’s attention had moved on to someone else, that it was now his co-star, Pamela Raines, who interested him, and whom he wanted to share his bed. As it had turned out, Rafe had been so determined the actress would share his bed that he hadn’t even had the time to tell Cairo to vacate it before moving Pamela Raines into it …

  Cairo certainly couldn’t allow herself to be seduced into becoming Rafe’s South of France ‘diversion’, too!

  What thoughts were going through her head, Rafe wondered as he looked at her searchingly. Whatever they were, they were making her frown.

  ‘Were you and Bond happy together?’ he suddenly rasped harshly.

  Her eyes widened. ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘It isn’t going to hurt you to tell me that much, surely, Cairo?’ Rafe pressed, knowing the moment of intimacy was over. For now …

  She shook her head. ‘Haven’t you been reading the newspapers the last ten months, Rafe?’

  He shrugged. ‘In my experience they rarely report the truth.’

  She gave a laugh of pure cynicism. ‘That’s been my experience, too!’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I haven’t asked you about any of your relationships the last eight years, so why on earth should I answer any of your questions about my marriage to Lionel?’ she retorted indignantly.

  ‘Ask away,’ Rafe invited.

  ‘I—’ Cairo broke off as her mobile began to ring. ‘That could be Jeff,’ she pointed out huskily.

  ‘Then you had better answer it, hadn’t you?’ he bit out curtly, before turning away to thrust his hands in his pockets.

  Dammit, every time he and Cairo came even close to understanding each other, something, or someone, interrupted them!

  Why the hell he wanted answers to these questions after all this time was beyond him. Maybe it was because of those memories this afternoon of when they’d met on the Isle of Man, when the connection between them had seemed so instant and exclusive….

  As it had seemed to be just now, too….

  Or maybe it was because the abrupt end of his relationship with Cairo three months later had always seemed like unfinished business to him….

  One day they had seemed to be totally together and the next she had told him it was all over, using empty phrases like ‘we both need our own space’ and ‘it was fun while it lasted but now it’s over’ as she’d walked out of his life.

  Phrases that had only made sense to Rafe when that very same evening Cairo had gone out to dinner with the producer of the film, and only weeks later she had married him!

  To add insult to injury, the ‘happy couple’ had even invited him, and the rest of the crew from A Love For All Time to the wedding! Rafe had excused himself from that invitation and spent the afternoon in bed with his co-star Pamela Raines instead.

  But being here with Cairo like this, talking to her, touching her again, imagining making love with her, seemed to have released all those old memories, the good, as well as the bad.

  Half of him had wanted to punish her just now as he told her of how he would make love to her, the other half punishing himself for still wanting her. He was still hard from those imaginings, his arousal a low throb that he had no control over—

  ‘Margo’s had the baby,’ Cairo spoke huskily behind him. ‘A little boy,’ she added as Rafe turned in sharp enquiry. ‘Margo is fine,’ she continued emotionally. ‘The baby—

  Simon Raphael—is in an incubator, but Jeff seems very hopeful that he’s going to be okay, too—’ She broke off to bury her face in her hands as she began to cry.

  ‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’ Rafe frowned, this time having no choice but to take her in his arms.

  Cairo had no idea why she was crying. Relief, probably. She had been so worried about Margo and the baby.

  But it wasn’t just that, she knew. The strain of being here with Rafe, talking to him, having him describe what it would be like making love to her, feeling every caress and touch of his lips on her body, was also taking its toll. Finding herself in his arms certainly wasn’t helping her dispel the effect!

  She straightened, avoiding his searching gaze as she wiped the tears from her cheeks to step away from him. ‘It’s much better news than I’d hoped for,’ she agreed.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Does Jeff want you and Daisy to go back to England now?’

>   ‘Not for a few more days, until he’s absolutely sure …’ Cairo shook her head. ‘I have to go in and tell Daisy the good news,’ she said as she turned away.

  ‘Cairo?’

  She closed her lids briefly before turning back to look at him with guarded eyes. ‘Yes?’

  Rafe’s gaze was mocking. ‘Now there are only two reasons why you can’t come to Cannes with me this evening….’

  She drew in a sharp breath. ‘Rafe, you have no idea of the avalanche of publicity we would be bringing down on ourselves by appearing in public together!’

  Rafe gave a rueful smile. ‘I think I have a pretty good idea. Besides, with the appearance of tomorrow’s newspapers, the chances are we’re going to be presented with a fait accompli, anyway.’ His mouth tightened grimly. ‘Personally I would rather spike the bast—the guy’s guns, by appearing in public with you tonight and so ruining his chances of an exclusive tomorrow.’

  He had a point, Cairo realized unwillingly.

  She was weakening in her resolve not to accompany him, Rafe noted with satisfaction as she hesitated. And he was determined that she would, meant it when he told Cairo she couldn’t go on hiding like this. Yeah, her divorce had been messy and very public, but she needed to get some perspective back in her life.

  With their past history, why the hell should he care what Cairo did, either now or in the future?

  He shouldn’t.

  And yet he knew that he did….

  He should never have given into the temptation of telling her all the things he would like to do to her.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted tersely.

  Cairo sighed heavily, knowing that he wasn’t going to give up.

  ‘Okay, I—I’ll ask Daisy what she wants to do—’

  ‘Coward,’ Rafe told her softly.

  Her chin came up, her eyes flashing darkly. ‘You know nothing about me, Rafe. Nothing!’ she snapped angrily.

  He shrugged. ‘Then prove me wrong, Cairo, and come with me tonight.’

  Her mouth twisted into a derisive smile. ‘I guarantee you’ll regret your insistence more than I will.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m willing to take that chance if you are.’

  Was she? She could see the logic of what Rafe was saying concerning spiking the guns of the reporter who had followed them today. The two of them appearing together in public this evening would certainly diffuse the exclusivity of any story he might have written. Except the very idea of appearing in public with Rafe as her partner for the evening, so totally aware of him as she now was, was Cairo’s idea of a nightmare!

  ‘I’ll ask Daisy,’ she repeated firmly. ‘If she wants to go, then we will.’

  Rafe could tell by the finality in her tone that it was the best answer he was going to get for now.

  ‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Go and talk to Daisy now so that I know whether or not I have to call and make my excuses for this evening, after all.’

  Rafe made no effort to follow Cairo into the villa, instead moving to sit on one of the chairs on the terrace, needing these few minutes’ respite to bring his throbbing need for her under control.

  Impossible when he could practically taste her….

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘YOU have to believe me, Cairo, when I tell you I had no idea Bond had been invited this evening!’

  Cairo knew by the grimness of Rafe’s expression as he looked down at her so intently that he was telling the truth.

  Not that she had ever thought otherwise; the two of them might have had their differences in the past, Rafe uncaring of her feelings for him, but she had never found him to be a vindictive man.

  Believing what he did, to have deliberately brought her to this party in Cannes knowing Lionel was going to be here, too, would definitely have been vindictive on Rafe’s part!

  Until now it had been a surprisingly pleasant evening. Cairo had met up and chatted with several old acquaintances as she sipped the freely flowing champagne, and Daisy was absolutely enthralled with the whole thing as she pointed out people she recognized from films and television.

  There had been the usual barrage of photographers outside, of course, an experience Cairo had also found less of an ordeal than she had expected. Rafe had kept a firm hold of her arm and smilingly fended off most of the more personal questions while at the same time keeping an eye out for the man who had followed them earlier today. He wasn’t there, Rafe had informed her as they went into the huge white marquee on Cannes beach where the party was being held.

  No doubt the man believed he had enough of an exclusive for one day!

  Which he probably did….

  Cairo had decided to put him firmly from her mind—along with that earlier, erotic, conversation with Rafe!—once she realized she was actually enjoying herself, having reacquainted herself with several friends that she hadn’t seen since her move to London.

  Until she chanced to glance across at the entrance of the marquee and see Lionel making a belated appearance!

  ‘Maybe he wasn’t invited.’ She sighed, knowing that Lionel was quite capable of inviting himself if he had learnt that Cairo was here, seeing as she had so far evaded all of his previous efforts to see or speak to her.

  ‘Do you want to leave?’ Rafe asked.

  Did she?

  Admittedly, seeing Lionel again like this so unexpectedly had been a shock, but if she left now, it would look as if she was running away from an awkward situation. Worse, she would feel as if she was running away!

  ‘No, I don’t want to leave,’ she answered Rafe firmly. ‘Let’s just continue to circulate, hmm?’ she suggested tautly as she slid her hand into the crook of his arm.

  ‘Fine with me.’ Rafe nodded as he looked down at her with approval.

  Despite her claim that she had nothing suitable to wear, Cairo looked stunningly beautiful this evening, the simple black sheath of a dress she wore giving her a classically elegant appearance when compared to all the glittering gowns being worn by the other women present. Her red hair was loose and silky about her shoulders, her eyes dark and luminous in her lightly tanned face, her lips glossed a challenging red.

  Warpaint she might need before this evening was over, Rafe acknowledged heavily as he saw Lionel Bond making his way determinedly towards them.

  Her ex-husband came to a halt in front of Cairo, his smile smooth and self-assured. ‘I had no idea you were going to be here this evening, Cairo,’ he greeted lightly. ‘I seem to recall your telling me you hated this sort of thing?’ he added quizzically.

  Cairo returned that smile even as her grip tightened on Rafe’s arm and her nails dug into the sleeve of his dinner jacket. ‘I’ve made tonight an exception,’ she replied coolly.

  Rafe’s gaze narrowed as he saw the way Bond was looking at Cairo with such warmth. Not entirely surprisingly, he found his own feelings towards her ex were far from friendly.

  He could see why she’d been attracted to the man, of course. For not only was Lionel Bond incredibly rich and powerful, he was also six feet tall, still athletically fit in his late forties, with a boyishly handsome face and blond hair tinged a distinguishing grey at the temples.

  Yes, Rafe could see the reason Cairo had once been attracted to this man. That she might still be attracted to him, in spite of their recent divorce …?

  Cairo was sure that her knees were shaking so much they were actually knocking together! It hadn’t even occurred to her that Lionel might be here this evening. She definitely wouldn’t have come if it had.

  And yet …

  This first meeting since their divorce, a meeting she had steadfastly avoided in spite of Lionel’s repeated efforts for it to be otherwise, had to have happened at some time, so why not get it over and done with?

  The guilt she had carried with her for so long where Lionel was concerned, unable to love him and yet unable to leave him, either, because of that guilt, along with the fear that she might be the reason for his gambling addiction, no longer seem
ed like quite such a heavy weight as she looked at him now. Lionel looked surprisingly fit and well, and was obviously surviving quite well without her.

  Perhaps he really had finally been able to stop the addiction that had for so long threatened to ruin him….

  ‘I wonder why you’ve made tonight an exception?’ Lionel turned to look at Rafe, his pale grey gaze wide with speculation.

  Cairo turned to include Rafe in their conversation. ‘You know Rafe of course …?’

  ‘Of course.’ Lionel nodded briefly in the younger man’s direction, neither one making any attempt to shake hands.

  Cairo couldn’t help but appreciate the differences she could see in the two men as they stood so close together, Rafe so dark and compellingly attractive, Lionel a golden blond and all that was suave and handsomely self-assured.

  But the expression of dislike on both men’s faces was identical as hard blue eyes clashed with steely grey!

  ‘I must say that I would have expected you to be a little more—original, shall we say—in your choice of lover, Cairo,’ Lionel challenged as he looked at Rafe. ‘I had rather hoped I’d taught you to be a little more discerning in your tastes over the years.’

  Cairo’s breath caught in her throat at the deliberate insult, and she could feel Rafe’s tension in his arm beneath her hand as he also recognized the directness of Lionel’s attack.

  Lionel had never been happy about her previous involvement with Rafe eight years ago, had considered Rafe one of the ‘wild’ set that had dominated Hollywood at the time. But Rafe had matured into a formidable and dangerous opponent in the intervening years, and he looked every bit as suave as Lionel this evening in the tailored black evening suit, snowy white shirt and red bow tie.

  She gave her ex-husband a confident smile. ‘There has never been anything wrong with my taste.’

  ‘Really?’ The intensity of Lionel’s gaze seemed to look for some inclusion of himself in that statement.

  ‘Yes—really,’ Cairo echoed softly. ‘Now if you’ll excuse us—’

  ‘You’re looking rather beautiful this evening, Cairo,’ Lionel told her warmly.