CHAPTER SIX
DANIELLE woke alone, and she stretched, considered burrowing her head into the pillow for another hour, then opted against it.
The sun was shining, the whole day lay ahead, and she intended to devote part of it to updating La Femme’s records, followed by some retail therapy.
It was ages since she’d been able to do any serious shopping, and, given her husband’s social schedule, she needed to replace a pair of stilettos and acquire a new gown.
She slid from the bed, showered, pulled on jeans and a cotton top, tidied the bedroom, then ran lightly downstairs to the kitchen.
Danielle settled for cereal and fruit, followed it with toast, and made fresh coffee.
There was no sign of Rafe, and no note to provide an indication of where he might be. The study? The downstairs gym?
Danielle poured a second coffee, leafed through the Sunday papers, then she collected her laptop and briefcase, set both on the informal dining-room table and began to work.
It was there Rafe found her more than an hour later when he entered the kitchen after a punishing session in the gym.
‘Good morning.’
She lifted her head, and felt her heart leap to a quickened beat at the sight of him in shorts, sweat- patched T-shirt and trainers. ‘Hi.’
He crossed to the refiigerator and extracted a bottle of chilled water, broke the cap, and downed half the *******s in one long swallow before turning towards her.
‘I’ll organise for one of the upstairs rooms to be furnished as a study for you.’
‘That isn’t necessary. I like the flexibility of being able to work anywhere. Keeping the records up to date rarely takes me more than a few hours each week’ At least it had up until now.
Rafe shot her a penetrating glance. ‘It’ll be easier if you have your own office space.’
Case closed. She knew she should be grateful. So why was there a niggling resentment apparent?
He drained the water bottle, dispensed with it, then walked from the kitchen.
An hour later Danielle closed down the laptop, gathered papers into her briefcase, then deposited both upstairs, checked her watch, then caught up her bag and car keys, and went in search of Rafe to let him know she’d be out for the rest of the day.
Except he was nowhere in plain sight, and she wrote him a note, propped it on the kitchen server)’, then headed towards the garage.
Her first destination was Brighton, and she parked, then wandered at will, pausing at a trendy café for a cappuccino before browsing in the shops.
Her cell phone rang as she was about to enter a boutique, and she retreated onto the pavement and took the call.
‘Where are you?’. Rafe’s voice was unmistakable, and she mentally counted to three before answering.
‘Precisely? Brighton, outside a dress shop.’
‘Does the not sure when I’ll be back in your note indicate late afternoon or evening?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Answer the question, Danielle.’
‘I didn’t realise I required your permission to go out of the house.’
‘Querida.’ His voice was a dangerous purr. ‘Don’t test my patience, hmm?’
‘Am I doing that?’ she queried sweetly.
‘Would you be so brave, I wonder, if you were facing me in person?’
‘Count on it.’
His husky chuckle sent shivers scudding the length of her spine. ‘Shall we begin again?’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. ‘Evening. I want to call by the penthouse.’
‘Six, Danielle. We’ll take your mother to dinner.’ He ended the call, and she keyed in the digits to reach Ariane and relayed the invitation.
‘Nonsense, darling. It’ll be cosier if we eat here.’ Danielle wasn’t sure cosy was a good idea. Her dear mama would doubtless indulge her romantic heart with a surreptitious analysis of the state of her daughter’s marriage, despite or because of its circum stance.
‘I’ll make one of my specialities.’
It was so long since Ariane had been able to entertain. Resigned, Danielle queried, ‘Is there anything you’d like me to pick up?’
‘A fresh baguette from the bakery, darling. Oh, and some lettuce.’
‘I’ll come early and help with the preparations.’
‘No, it’ll give me pleasure to have you as my guest.’
Danielle ended the call, replaced the phone in her bag, then dedicated the next few hours to choosing a new gown and shoes.
It was after four when she let herself into the pent house, armed with flowers, a bottle of wine, together with the baguette and lettuce.
A tantalising aroma permeated the kitchen, and she greeted her mother fondly, glimpsed the sparkling gleam evident in Mane’s eyes as she stuffed the con tents of various pots on the cook-top.
‘For you,’ she said with affection, gifting the wine and flowers, then she snagged a tea towel and fixed it at her waist. ‘Now, what can I do?’
They worked happily together for the next hour, confident all was well, the serving dishes ready and the table set.
‘Time to freshen up, I think,’ Ariane declared. The intercom buzzed, and Ariane released the external security door to allow Rafe into the building. Minutes later the chime bell sounded and Danielle added water glasses to the table setting while her mother let him into the apartment.
She heard their voices, his deep with its slight American accent, and sensed the pleasure in Ariane’s greeting.
Danielle moved into the lounge, proffered a smile, and schooled her features as he crossed to her side, cupped her face and slanted his mouth over hers.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Kissing my wife.’
She wanted to slap him, and he knew, damn him! There was a humorous gleam evident in that dark gaze as he captured her mouth in a slow, sweet pos session. A gesture that unnerved her, and brought pink colour to her cheeks.
It was a deliberate gesture, and one that would merely feed her mother’s imagination. Which was precisely his intention.
‘I thought we’d eat in,’ Ariane declared. ‘You’ll be my first guests.’ She sent her daughter a sparkling glance, then doffed to Rafe. ‘What can I get you to drink? I have a nice chardonnay.’
The meal was a success, for her mother’s culinary skills were notable, her delight in exercising them evident.
Cosy encapsulated the few hours they shared, and the developing rapport between Rafe and her mother was something Danielle viewed with caution.
There was a part of her that wanted to warn Ariane against a man who could manipulate circumstance at will. To advise Rafe’s expressed affection was nothing more than an act, for it was laughable to contemplate otherwise.
His voiced interest in various framed photographs positioned on various items of furniture in the lounge sent Ariane delving into a drawer for more than one family album, and Danielle deliberately absented her self on the pretext of making coffee.
She took her time,: setting china onto a tray, adding cheese and crackers to a plate, until the coffee had filtered and there was no further reason for her to delay a return to the lounge.
The fond hope the albums would be put to one side weren’t fulfilled, and she suffered through Ariane’s affectionate recount of foreign resort holidays and various special-occasion photographs taken at different stages during her life.
It was too much information, acutely personal, and left her feeling vulnerable.
‘We must do this again,’ Ariane enthused as Rafe indicated they should leave.
‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘As our guest. Danielle will let you have the details.’
Danielle was silent as they rode the elevator down to the basement car park, and Rafe walked to her car, waited while she fired the engine, then followed in his own vehicle.
They entered the driveway within seconds of each other, and cut the ignition almost simultaneously.
Danielle gathered up the brightly emblazoned carry-bags containing her purchases, then she entered the foyer and made for the staircase.
‘Your mother is a charming woman.’
‘Yes, she is.’
Rafe followed her into the bedroom and began loosening his tie. ‘I’ll ensure some of our invitations include Ariane as a fellow guest.’
She deposited the carry-bags and stepped out of her shoes. ‘1 know she’ll appreciate that.’ She slipped off her watch, removed the slender gold chain at her neck, and crossed to the en suite.
A leisurely shower, then bed. Tomorrow was another day, and there were a few items of stock due to arrive.
Danielle shed her clothes, turned on the water, then stepped into the shower stall. She picked up the soap and visualised the boutique window... She’d change the central mannequin’s attire; maybe the black lace teddy— The glass door slid open and Rafe stepped in.
There was more than adequate room for two, but she resented him invading her personal space. Which was totally illogical, given the intimacy they shared.
‘Must you?’
‘You object?’
‘Yes!’
He took the soap from her hand. ‘Get used to it.’
‘Look—’
‘I’m looking, querida,’ he drawled with amusement as he caught hold of her shoulders and turned her away from him. ‘There was one photo in the album displaying a cute little birthmark.’ His fingers trailed down her slender back to the curve of her buttock. ‘Just about here. Ah, yes, there it is. How could I have missed it?’
Danielle wrenched out of his grasp, only to have him catch hold of her and turn her to face him.
Water cascaded against his back, and without thought she batted a hand against his shoulder, then clenched a fist and aimed it at his chest. ‘Don’t!’
His eyes stilled, the humour vanishing as if it was never there. ‘You’re treading dangerous ground.’
She raised stormy eyes to his. ‘How would you feel if I began to examine you for any imperfections?’
‘Aroused.’
‘Of course,’ she acceded with wicked cynicism. ‘I, What else?’
‘You want to make an issue of this?’
‘Yes, dammit.’
‘Why, when you have no hope of winning?’
‘That doesn’t stop me from trying!’ What was the matter with her? To argue with him was madness. To do so when she was naked.insanity.
‘What do you hope to achieve?’
She wrenched out of his grasp. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to be used for sex tonight.’
Rafe pulled her back towards him and captured her head, tilting it so she had little option but to meet his gaze. ‘And if I do mind?’
‘You can go to hell.’
He was tempted to take her there. To show her the difference between taking and pleasuring. For a millisecond he almost did. Then he lowered his head and possessed her mouth, ravaging it in a manner that owed more to punishment than the desire to please.
He wanted her unbidden response, and he worked towards it, tormenting until he sensed her capitulation. Then he eased back, nipping the fullness of her lower lip with the edge of his teeth, teasing and pro yoking as she began to reciprocate, until the ardour was all hers and her hands lifted to link at the back of his neck.
He watched her eyes dilate as she absorbed him, felt rather than heard her faint whimper at the suddenness of his invasion, sensed her body tense momentarily, then relax as he kissed her. Gently, with a sensitivity that made the breath catch in her throat.
Then he began to move, and she moved with him, caught up in the mesmeric passion of his possession. Helpless against a primitive hunger that changed her into a shameless wanton.
Danielle had no perception of time, and it seemed an age before she rested her head into the curve of his shoulder, totally spent.
Afterwards he moved beneath the water and cleansed her with a gentleness that almost made her want to weep, and she stood as he blotted the moisture from her skin before towelling himself dry.
On the edge of sleep she became vaguely aware that he caught hold of her hand and brought it to his lips.
The following few days were busy. Danielle effected a stunning window display that drew several compliments.
Business was brisk, although Wednesday proved to be a day where everything that could go wrong, did.
The courier failed to arrive as promised on the morning run, and the client sailed into the boutique prior to lunch expecting to collect her special order, only to become irate on discovering it wasn’t there.
Apologies did little to appease, despite an assurance the order would certainly be included in the afternoon run.
It wasn’t, and incurred a diatribe accusing La Femme of ineptitude, carelessness, together with promoting client dissatisfaction and a threat to take business elsewhere.
Danielle made a call to the supplier, and was in formed they’d received a cancellation on that specific order, hence the reason why it hadn’t been included.
A quick check with Ariane confirmed what Danielle already knew. Neither of them had initiated the cancellation. Leanne was excluded on the grounds she only worked on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday. The order had been faxed through on Monday, and today was Wednesday.
‘Any ideas?’
Danielle gave her mother a thoughtful look. ‘I could be wrong.’
‘Sabotage?’
‘I hate to think it might be a possibility.’ Her teeth worried her lower lip, and her eyes hardened. ‘From now on we confirm each order by electronic mail with a specially devised code known only to you, me, and the supplier.’
She picked up the phone and organised the arrangement.
Nevertheless, it perturbed her. The relocated La Femme was proving to be highly successful. The boutique provided a wide range of imported stock and the level of patronage was good.
If it was sabotage, then who?
Cristina? Did her vindictiveness extend this far?
Danielle didn’t like the way the mental maths added up. If Cristina was responsible she’d have to get ir refutable proof before she could take any action. Supposition and suspicion weren’t sufficient evidence.
It preoccupied her during the drive home, adding an edginess to her demeanour. What she needed was some rigorous physical activity in order to expend excess nervous energy.
A workout in the downstairs gym, followed by several laps of the pool appealed, and she wasted little time exchanging her working clothes for a bikini, then she pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and sped lightly downstairs.
It was a spacious room, containing a bench-press, electronic treadmill, exercise, punching bag and weights. There was a locked wall cabinet containing a variety of martial arts weaponry. ..at least one of which could be considered illegal. Unless he held a license.
‘Admiring my collection?’
He had the tread of a cat, and she turned slowly to face him. He was dressed in sweat pants and T-shirt, and had a towel draped round his neck.
‘You’re a martial arts exponent?’
Rafe crossed towards her with a fluid grace not found in most men. ‘Does that surprise you?’
Very little about him surprised her. ‘No.’ There was a quality to him she hadn’t quite been able to pinpoint.. .the spiritual attunement of mind and body,
the supreme discipline of each, and the acquired skill of using both as an art form.
He rested his gaze on her attire. ‘You want to work out?’
‘Punch something,’ she amended succinctly.
He detected the edge to her voice and wondered at it. ‘Care to tell me why?’
‘Not particularly.’
• He battened down his amusement. ‘Want a pair of boxing gloves?’
Danielle cast him a dark glance. ‘I’m serious.’
‘That bad, hmm?’ was tempted to take the fine edge of her anger, turn it into passion, and enjoy the process.
Instead, he crossed to a set of built-in cupboards along one wall, extracted the gloves and returned to her side. ‘Give me your hands.’
He taped them, then moved to the punching bag and held it still. ‘Ever used one of these before?’
‘No,’she denied, following him. ‘But it’ll do.’
‘In place of who?’
She was silent for a few seconds. ‘I’m not sure yet.’ Rafe offered a few basic instructions. ‘Go for it.’ She did. Until he stopped her after a series of blows, and when he tore off the tape she crossed to the treadmill, set the controls at a medium speed and kept up the pace until she felt she’d had enough.
Rafe was within her peripheral vision, and she could only admire his fluid grace of movement as he completed a series of martial arts exercises. Control and discipline in practice form; lethal in combat.
Her energy spent, she left the gym and moved to the indoor pool.
It took only seconds to strip down to her bikini, and she took a running dive into the crystal-clear water.
Danielle lost count of the number of laps she stroked before a dark head surfaced close to her own, and Rafe matched his pace to her own.
It was a while before she called a halt and trod water at the far end of the pool.
‘Had enough?’
‘Yes.’
‘Feel better?’
‘Some.’
‘Then let’s get out of here, shower, and go eat.’ She levered herself onto the tiled edge, then got to her feet and reached for a towel. ‘I’ll cook.’
‘We could dine out.’
‘I do a great steak salad.’ She caught hold of her hair and squeezed out the excess moisture. ‘Elena has the makings in the refrigerator. Served with Turkish bread and hummus, it’ll be divine. Trust me.’
It was. Eaten at the table positioned on the terrace, and accompanied by a superb cabernet sauvignon wine.
It was a peaceful scene, overlooking the landscaped lawns with their neat garden borders, the various flowering bushes and shrubbery.
Danielle had a sudden glimpse of what it would be like with children.., there would a swing seat, a slide, and a variety of outdoor toys. A dog to love and provide fun and laughter, and indoors a cat to curl up on a few favoured chairs. And the nursery, with its cot, bed, bookshelves and toys. A rocking-horse, and a rocking-chair so she could sit with a child snuggled in her arms.
A child. The reason for this marriage. Could she already be pregnant? It was a possibility, but, given her own calculations—most likely not.
how long would it take? A silent bubble of wry laughter rose and died in her throat. Given Rafe’s dedication to propagating progeny.. .not very long at all.
‘Ariane reports business continues to show a markedly increased turnover.’
Danielle took a sip of wine, then held the stemmed goblet in her hands. ‘Yes.’
‘You have reservations?’
He was quick Too quick, she perceived as she caught his discerning look. Had Ariane relayed the mystery of the cancelled order and the resultant ire from their dissatisfied client? Should she?
There was a part of her that wanted to deal with it on her own. Surely it couldn’t prove too difficult, even if Cristina had covered her tracks?
‘No,’ she ventured. The success of the boutique was vitally important. To Ariane, to herself. It was a matter of pride, and integrity.
‘But?’
‘Why do you imagine there is one?’ She hadn’t meant to sound so cynical, but Cristina and her trouble-making potential rankled.
Rafe leaned back in his chair and examined her features. Something was bothering her, and he meant to find out what it was.
‘We’re attending a photographic exhibition on Friday evening at the Simpson Gallery.’
‘Updating the coming week’s social calendar?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, jay.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
‘Perhaps it’s simply an aversion to being on display.’
‘Given time, our union will become old news.’ He was right, but it didn’t help much. Especially with the spectre of Cristina constantly looming in the background.
‘Sunday we’ve been invited to join friends for a few hours in the afternoon. Volleyball on the beach, followed by a barbecue.’
‘What if I have plans of my own?’
‘We compromise.’
She’d ensure they did, just for the hell of it. ‘How about taking in a movie at the cinema?’
‘We’ll be on the Gold Coast next week.’
‘Excuse me.. .we?’
‘I have business there,’ Rafe relayed with marked patience.
‘I can’t leave the boutique.’
‘Yes, you can. Leanne will work Thursday and Friday.’
She wanted to hit him, badly. ‘1 would have preferred you discuss it with me first.’
The sun was going down, fading the sky and dimming the landscape beneath it. Soon everything would be shrouded in varying shades of grey and pewter.
Remote sensors activated electric garden lights, illuminating the grounds in a soft glow.
Without a further word she rose to her feet and began gathering up china and cutlery, then carried them through to the kitchen. Within minutes she’d restored order, and she ran lightly upstairs to retrieve her keys and purse.
The need to escape, if only for an hour, was par amount.
‘Going out?’
Danielle turned and saw Rafe framed in the bed room doorway. ‘Yes.’
‘I’ll get my jacket.’
Resentment flared, and lent her eyes a fiery sparkle. ‘I’m going alone.’
His stance didn’t alter. ‘I go with you.’ His voice was pure silk. ‘Or you don’t go at all’
Anger intensified as she threw him a furious look. ‘I don’t want to be around you right now.’
‘Tough.’
‘Dammit! You can’t—’
‘Yes, I can.’
‘Why are you making this such a major deal?’ she demanded, sorely tried, watching warily as he moved into the room.
‘Because no woman of mine goes out into the night alone.’
‘I am not your woman.’
A faint smile curved the edge of his mouth. ‘Yes,’ he acceded in an indolent drawl. ‘You are.’
‘Not in any sense.’ She was so angry she could spit, and irked no end that he found it amusing.
He caught up a jacket, hooked it over one shoulder, then he slanted her a quizzical glance. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I’ve changed my mind.’
‘We could always have an early night.’
His implication was clear, and she clenched her hands in anger. ‘Sex.’ She threw him a fulminating look. ‘Is that all you think about?’
‘With you, it isn’t a hardship.’
She• acted on impulse and aimed a stinging slap... except it was intercepted before the palm of her hand could reach his cheek.
In seeming slow motion he tossed his jacket onto a chair, then he pulled her close and fastened his mouth on hers in a punishing kiss that reached right down to her soul as it invaded, plundered and conquered.
Danielle fought him at first, beating her fists against his ribs, his back, anywhere she could reach. Except it did no good at all, as he simply hauled her up against him.
His arousal was a potent force, and she struggled against him until her brain registered what her body had already accepted.
The need to respond was uppermost, and the knowledge caused a silent groan of despair as she attempted to wrench herself from his grasp.
She managed it, only because he released her, and she stepped back a pace as she fought to control her rapid breathing.
‘Do we go, or stay?’
He sounded so cool, it merely heightened her anger, and she raised stormy eyes to his. ‘I’m going out. Alone.’
‘We’ve already done that. You don’t want to do it again.’
‘You’re not my jailor!’ She moved past him, and quickly descended the stairs. Her car stood in the garage, and she used the remote modern to lift the automatic doors, then slid into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine.
At that moment the passenger door opened and Rafe slipped into the front seat.
Rafe doubted she had any particular destination in mind, and he didn’t offer a word as she cleared the gates, then headed towards the city.
Southbank suited her mood, for there were several cafés and coffee bars from which to choose, plus the pleasure of sitting outdoors and watching the world go by.
Maybe if she ignored Rafe she could pretend he wasn’t there?
Fat chance, she concluded minutes later as she chose one café, selected an outdoor table, took a seat, and ordered a latte.
‘A short black,’ Rafe indicated, then sank back in the chair and subjected the woman opposite to an en compassing appraisal.
‘Are we going to sit in silence, or attempt to communicate?’
Danielle met his gaze with equanimity. ‘Pick a subject.’
‘Whatever it is that’s bothering you.’
‘You bother me,’ she retaliated. ‘You make plans without consulting me, and expect me to conform.’
‘For you to conform is part of the deal.’
‘Of course.’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Let’s not forget the deal.’
His expression didn’t change, although his voice was a silky drawl. ‘Careful, querida.’
The waiter delivered their coffee, and Danielle stirred in sugar, then took an appreciative sip.
‘I don’t want to leave Ariane with the total responsibility of La Fernme.’
Her mother was more than capable, and in normal circumstances she’d have no hesitation in absenting herself for a few days. Except she had an instinctive feeling that Cristina was intent on causing mischief. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced the leggy blonde was behind today’s contretemps.
The concern was what else Cristina had planned.
‘Two days isn’t a lifetime.’
The fact he was right didn’t help at all. ‘You’re not going to give in, are you?’
He added sugar and stirred the dark brew. ‘No.’
Danielle looked at him, and saw the unrelenting resolve evident. A man no sensible person would choose as an enemy.
Without a further word she finished her coffee, then rose to her feet, extracted a note from her purse and had Rafe close his hand over hers.
‘You take independence too far.’ He summoned a waitress, handed her a note from his wallet, then followed Danielle out onto the boardwalk.
Attired in black trousers, a casual cotton shirt unbuttoned at the neck, he looked the antithesis of the high-powered corporate executive. Yet there was something about him that attracted a second glance.
The evening air was fresh, and there was a breeze teasing the length of her hair. A few stray tendrils brushed her cheek, and she tucked them behind an ear.
A wolf-whistle pierced the air, but she didn’t even glance towards the admirer, unaware she was the tar get of his appreciation. Nor did she see the chilling look Rafe threw in the man’s direction.
Soon they turned and retraced their steps, and Danielle heard the laughter as they passed various tables, the chatter as couples enjoyed a late meal.
They reached the car and she handed Rafe the keys before slipping into the passenger seat.
The drive home didn’t take long, and inside she made for the stairs, uncaring whether he followed or not.
Minutes later she shed her clothes, slid into bed and snapped off the lamp. Sleep didn’t come easily, and she lay awake in the darkness for what seemed an age before Rafe quietly entered the room.
She heard the faint rustle of clothes being removed, and had a vivid image of him discarding each garment, that broad-shouldered frame, taut midriff, the flex of muscle and sinew, the satin-smooth olive skin.
Heat flooded her body, and the familiar ache deep within longed for his touch. Dear heaven, why did her body act independently from the dictates of her brain?
She didn’t want him. Liar. There was a need to lose herself in the physical act, to experience again and again the primitive, magical sensuality he was able to arouse.
And just for a little while she wanted to be irons ported to that special place where it was possible to pretend what they shared was more than.. .just sex. Albeit very good sex.
For a moment the knowledge shocked her. How could she even think her emotions could be involved? What was she.. .crazy?
She hated Rafe Valdez for the scheme he’d devised.
Except hate didn’t form any part of what she felt as he reached for her. Dislike and apathy weren’t even contenders as her body sang at his touch.
He had the skill, the knowledge to drive a woman wild, and as she went up in flames she didn’t spare a thought for anything except the man, the moment, and the glorious, exhilarating ride.
28-11-07, 05:16 PM
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