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The second was that her meagre bed on the floor had vanished. And this time there were no scattered bedclothes or assaulted pillow.
‘I thought you were asleep.’
He made a negative movement with his head, abrading his whiskers against the knuckles that were propping up his jaw as he contemplated her deep dismay.
‘Did you really think I was going to make it that easy for you?’ he said, with menacingly softness.
Easy?
Jennifer had no illusions on that score. But she had hoped to put off another devastating confrontation until she had had time to repair the weaknesses in her buckled defences, particularly in view of this wretched new complication. She just hoped to God that Rafe wasn’t involved in the editorial side of Velvet Books!
She ignored his taunting reply and flung open the glory box. It was empty. With a furious glance at Rafe’s innocent expression her gaze hunted around the room for the missing blankets.
‘This is just childish!’ she burst out.
‘I agree, so stop behaving like a sulky schoolgirl. Come to bed and we’ll talk about it like mature adults. You know what they say—a husband and wife should never let the sun go down on their anger...’
She let the lid of the box fall with a sharp crack that echoed her snapping nerves.
‘We are not married and I’m not getting into bed with you!’
‘Claiming the moral high ground? That’s pretty shaky territory for a compulsive liar...’
‘You can talk about morality?’ she scorned fiercely. ‘You’ve had more women than you’ve had hot dinners!’
His mouth took on a cynical slant. ‘I presume you got that spicy tidbit from my father. Well, maybe that’s what I wanted him to think, when rebelling against his hypocritical version of morality was my chief aim in life, but in fact I’ve always been extremely selective where women are concerned—certainly more sexually discriminating than he ever was. Sebastian was congenitally incapable of being faithful to one women, yet he persisted in making vows of fidelity, while I, on the other hand, never made any promises and never once betrayed a lover.’
‘I’m not in the least interested in your sex life,’ Jennifer bit out.
‘Yes, you are. Or you wouldn’t constantly stroke me with those hot little looks from under your lashes.’
She immediately flashed her eyes wide. ‘I do not!’
‘Did you think I hadn’t noticed? I spent a good few years in front of the camera, learning how to attract that particular look from women—I know exactly what it signals. There was never any hint of sexual awareness in the air between you and my father, but you and I... we were a different story, weren’t we?’ His voice deepened as his eyes swept her from head to foot, mocking her scruffy armour. ‘Even if we chose not to acknowledge it, that delicious sting of mutual curiosity was always there, wasn’t it? You might even say that the atmosphere between us was pregnant with possibilities...although at the time I didn’t realise how literally true that would turn out to be!’
Jennifer yanked the belt on her robe cuttingly tight, trying to separate herself from the wicked sensations shimmering through her lower body as Rafe rolled onto his back, exposing more of his torso, folding his arms provocatively behind his head as he said boldly, ‘You know, at one stage it did occur to me that I could seduce you away from Sebastian, but then I figured, Why should I do the three witches’ dirty work for them...?’
He meant Lydia, Sharon and Felicity, the bitchy triumvirate who, unlike Rafe’s mother, had remained firmly within Sebastian’s orbit, playing on his spasmodic guilt and pandering to his obsession that they should all be one, big happy family. Sebastian’s regrettable habit of throwing money at problems to make them go away had only served to multiply the problems of his ex-wives and their children.
‘Besides, the old man was dying—all his riches couldn’t protect him from that—so why shouldn’t he spend them going out with a bang, so to speak, rather than a whimper?’ Rafe continued, with an insultingly careless tilt of one gilded shoulder. ‘So I resisted the temptation to respond to your subtle invitation—’
‘There was no invitation!’ she hissed, stooping to peer under the bed. ‘Where have you put my damned blankets?’
‘I threw them off the balcony.’
She popped up again, her face furiously flushed.
‘You didn’t!’ she gasped, clutching her lapels, imagining what her mother and Dot must have thought when bedclothes had suddenly come raining down in front of their eyes.
‘For a consummate liar you’re incredibly gullible yourself,’ he jeered. ‘No, I didn’t—but even if you find them it’s not going to get you anywhere. I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Apart from anything else it won’t do the baby any good...’
‘What the hell do you care?’ she snarled unwisely, recoiling from any hint of potential interest in her pregnancy.
His eyes narrowed as he sensed her fear. ‘Why don’t you come over here and find out??
? he invited, with silken insolence. ‘You might be surprised to find what we care about in common...’
Her heart jittered. Oh, no, she wasn’t falling for that one. She wasn’t going to get within striking distance of that lithe golden body. As long as he didn’t touch her she could maintain her defiant front.
