The Thorn in His Side (13 page)

Libby, determined to prove herself capable to spite Rafael, just hoped that Rob Monroe would be well soon.

Her reluctant mentor hadn’t even bothered to keep up the pretence of letting Libby trail after her—instead after lunch she planted a stack of papers on her desk and asked for an analysis, her expression suggesting that she did not anticipate getting it.

It had taken Libby most of the afternoon to figure out what she was meant to produce an analysis on, but, determined to prove the woman wrong if it killed her, she ploughed on. By four she had realised it might not kill her but it was going to give her one hell of a headache. The fact she had skipped breakfast and not yet made it to lunch had probably not helped.

Hoping to head off the familiar symptoms, she headed
out into the corridor, intending to get a glass of iced water to help wash down her migraine medication.

It was there, with a hand pressed to her throbbing head, that Libby, her thoughts still on the figures revolving in her head, almost ploughed straight into Jake Wylie, the lawyer that Susie had set her up with in New York the previous month. His surprise when he recognised her was equal to her own.

‘Now this is what I call fate,’ he said after she’d given a brief and strictly expurgated reason for her presence.

Not fate, but it was really good to see a familiar face in an environment where she felt like a fish out of water—there had been moments today when she’d felt so isolated and alone that she’d found
herself anticipating, and not in a totally negative way, turning around and seeing Rafael standing there!

They began to chat. Jake was a very good listener and, unlike Rafael, you could take what he said at face value. There were no sinister undertones to worry about—or sexual attraction—which made him very easy to relax around.

Having worked through her lunch break, Libby, who was in desperate need of a coffee, invited Jake to join her. She was genuinely delighted when he accepted.

She was midway through pouring Jake a coffee when her mobile rang. Libby smiled an apology and lifted it to her ear and heard her brother’s voice.

‘How is—?’

Her brother cut across her. ‘Is it true?’

Her parents had told her they were not going to tell her brother because he had enough on his plate, adding that they were hoping she had come to her senses before then. Clearly they had decided that with
the baby home and Meg fully recovered his plate was clear enough now.

‘Yes, I’m working for Rafael Alejandro, but there are reasons—’

‘I’m not interested in reasons, Libby, the only thing I’m interested in hearing you say is you’re walking out of that building.’

‘I can’t say that.’

‘Have you any idea how upset Mum is? I can’t believe how selfish you’re being.’

Libby felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘Maybe I am.’ It was a question she had asked herself more than once—ever since she had realised that she was no longer doing this just for her family: she was doing it for herself.

She winced as the sound of the phone slamming into the cradle vibrated down the line.

‘Are you all right?’

Libby caught her trembling lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. ‘Family stuff.’ She stopped, pressing a hand to her mouth as her voice was suspended by tears.

She gave a mortified sniff and shook her head in apology.

Jake’s expression became instantly sympathetic. ‘Don’t worry—the things I could tell you about my family.’ And he proceeded to do just that. Libby had no idea if the story of a disastrous Thanksgiving family dinner was real, but it made her laugh.

‘Thank you and sorry about the waterworks.’

The handsome American gave a smile that crinkled his eyes and touched her shoulder. ‘I have four sisters and an ex-wife. I know all about crying. Don’t mind
me, let it out,’ he advised, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze.

The show of sympathy brought a fresh rush of moisture to her eyes. Libby blinked, swallowing past the aching emotional stricture in her throat as she firmed her shoulders.

He meant well, of course, but she had no intention of taking Jake’s advice. If she let go, if for one moment she lowered her defences and let the emotions she had walled up over the past few weeks loose, the resulting torrent would not be pretty.

‘You’re kind.’ She scanned his face, thinking, And good-looking and smart. Why, she wondered, couldn’t I have been attracted to this nice man and not—? Libby shook her head and pushed the thought aside. There were some realities she was not ready to admit even to herself just yet.

Not ever!

Jake watched as she reached for a tissue from the box on the desk; he pushed it closer. ‘A kind lawyer, two words that in my experience rarely precede women ripping my clothes off …?’

Libby shook her head and gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m not really looking for—’ She broke off awkwardly.

The American gave a philosophical shrug. ‘I thought so but no harm in trying, and watch out—you know what they say?’

Libby shook her head.

‘You always find it when you’re not looking.’ He gave a frown and added, ‘Or was that it finds you?

‘How do you feel about dinner anyway? I’m in town for the rest of the week. I promise not to produce any
more homespun wisdom and you could tell me what the legendary Rafael Alejandro is like in real life.’

‘Rafael Alejandro!’

Libby inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. She had developed an almost Pavlovian response to that name. Hear or think it—which she did more frequently than she liked to admit—and she experienced a dramatic hormone rush followed by an equally strong period of self-loathing.

It was a name that pressed more buttons than Libby could count!

She barely registered Jake’s startled expression when a bitter laugh was wrenched from her lips.

‘I can tell you that now. He’s an arrogant, self-opinionated, conceited, unscrupulous, devious—’ Breathing hard, she brought her short tirade to an abrupt halt.

Yes, Libby, that
really
came across as a disinterested analysis.

Jake let out a silent whistle. ‘Wow. I take it I’m not talking to a fan.’

L
IBBY,
appalled and embarrassed by her outburst, struggled for composure. ‘He is not a man who inspires mild feelings,’ she admitted with a little laugh.

‘Am I interrupting?’

Libby loosed a gasp and turned her head jerkily, her complexion going through several dramatically rapid shade changes before she faced the man framed in the doorway, her eyes wide and horror-filled in a face that was porcelain pale.

Rafael Alejandro, his face a stony mask, levered his lean length from the doorframe, channelling dark, mean and brooding from every perfect, arrogant pore as he tipped his dark head, displayed a perfect set of white teeth and divided his nasty sardonic smile between her and Jake.

Her outburst replaying in her head—he had obviously heard every word—Libby bit her lip to restrain the groan that rose in her throat, utterly helpless to control the rush of liquid heat that surged through her body.

She watched as he levered his shoulder off the doorframe and straightened up to his full impressive height before sauntering into the room with the feline grace of a jungle cat.

‘I was just—’

‘Yes, I heard.’

Libby swallowed, her cheeks flaming, and lowered her gaze, struggling to regain a semblance of control. She had meant every word she had said in her no-holds-barred summary of his character; her only inaccuracy lay in omission.

You could not describe Rafael Alejandro without mentioning the trivial detail that he was arguably—no argument in Libby’s mind—the most incredible-looking man on the planet. But no description of his well-built body, chiselled features and sexy mouth could articulate the force field of arrogant, raw sexuality he projected.

It was something a person had to feel to appreciate. Libby was feeling it now, feeling it from her
scalp to her toes.

She wondered if she was having a heart attack.

‘I am intruding?’ His questioning glance slid past Libby and to the man beside her.

Libby missed the social cue. ‘No … yes … that is …’ Libby stopped. Forced onto the offensive by sheer embarrassment, she snapped crankily, ‘What are you doing here?’

Rafael raised a brow and Libby bit her lip, feeling a total idiot.

‘That is, this is a surprise. Nobody told me you were coming.’

‘I had no idea I was meant to inform you.’

Jake, who had been silent, stepped in to fill the awkward silence. ‘Jake Wylie …’

For an awful moment Libby thought that Rafael was not going to take the hand extended to him.

The contact was brief. After subjecting him to a stare that made the ice cap look warm and cosily benevolent
by contrast Rafael ignored the other man totally and turned his attention to Libby.

‘Right, well, I must be going. It was very nice to meet you and it was lovely to catch up, Libby …’ Jake threw her an apologetic look.

There was a silence after the door closed behind Jake, broken eventually by Rafael.

‘You have been putting your time to good use, I see. I am all for thinking outside the box, but I think you might have the wrong idea about what skills are required when running a light manufacturing company.’ His lips curled into an expressive sneer of disdain.

The smiling insult drew a gasp from Libby. ‘That was totally uncalled for!’

‘In this building I do not receive lessons on manners, I deliver them!’ The stinging rebuke brought a fresh rush of anger to her cheeks.

‘And actually I think that under the circumstances I was admirably restrained. You are meant to be shadowing Rob. Instead I find you making out with someone on your desk. I’m assuming you have worked your way through the football team.’

‘I was not on my desk … or making out,’ she added hastily. ‘And Mr Monroe … Rob … he is sick.’ She shook her head and added,
‘Football team?’

‘Why was I not told?’

‘How should I know?’

A nerve ticked along Rafael’s jaw. ‘Who is responsible for giving you this junk?’ He picked up the file on top of the pile and waved it towards her.

Libby deflected the question. ‘Why—are you going to bully her too?’ She might not like the woman, but she
would not put her worst enemy in Rafael Alejandro’s firing line.

He stared at her face, betraying little beyond blank incredulity.
‘Bully?’

She lifted her chin another defiant inch and met the blaze of his golden stare head-on. ‘You heard me.’

She saw something dark and dangerous flare in Rafael’s mesmeric eyes and swallowed, moistening her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

‘Please go on, you fascinate me.’ At one level Libby did know that this was probably the worst advice in the world to take. But she was way past taking the sensible option. Besides, this situation was past fixing by grovelling. It was obvious she’d already totally blown whatever chance she had of saving her father from financial ruin, so why hold back?

What was the worst he could do?

Libby’s thoughts veered away from the question.

‘You know what my definition of a bully is?’

Rafael’s dark brows twitched into an interrogative dark line above his hawkish nose as he folded his
arms across his chest, his eyes trained on her heaving bosom, and he murmured, ‘I feel sure you are going to tell me.’

Libby’s chin lifted. ‘A bully is someone who browbeats, humiliates and harasses someone else who is in no position to respond.’

With each successive indictment the skin pulled tighter across the fabulous bones of his face. Libby couldn’t drag her eyes from the frenetic nerve pumping away like a time bomb in his lean cheek.

‘They only pick on people who can’t or won’t fight back!’

Rafael ground his teeth. ‘Nothing,’ he gritted, ‘would
have pleased me more than if your
friend
had taken a swing at me.’

‘My friend is a gentleman, but I might punch you myself! In fact I should. I’d love to know what you said to make half the damned building think that I’m only here because we’re …’ The hint of angry colour in her cheeks deepened to a mortified scarlet as Libby shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Rafael put the file down and began to flick through the rest of the paperwork on her desk. A few files down he began to frown. ‘What doesn’t matter?’ Having reached the bottom of the stack, he turned his gaze on Libby and arched a questioning brow.

Libby sighed and began to wish she’d never introduced the subject.

‘They think we’re sleeping together.’

The sardonic humour in his eyes vanished as a heavy frown settled on his sternly beautiful features. ‘Who has said this to you?’

‘Nobody has said anything, but I can see that’s what they’re thinking.’

Rafael picked up an empty paper cup from the desk, crushed it between his fingers before lobbing it casually into the waste-paper bin several feet away. ‘You are paranoid.’

Libby clenched her teeth; his accented drawl really got under her skin. ‘I am not paranoid!’

‘And fearful of gossip.’

Libby’s chin went up. ‘I’m not afraid of gossip.’

‘Just afraid your lover will think you’re sleeping with another man.’

Libby responded to the goad without thinking. ‘Jake is not my lover.’

A slow smile spread across his lean face. ‘Good, it is not my habit to share my women.’

Breathing through the shameful stab of lust low in her belly, Libby struggled to look amused

‘Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?’ It
should,
so why didn’t it? ‘I know it’s your life’s mission to put the cool in Neanderthal but really …
my woman?’
On the receiving end of another powerful kick of lust, she added crankily, ‘And even if I was it would hardly make me feel special, would it, to be one amongst so many? What … what are you smiling at?’ she demanded, viewing the sudden change in his expression with suspicion.

‘I too have been very frustrated,’ he admitted bluntly.

The colour rushed to her face as Libby shook her head in denial—if only it were so easy to deny the illicit thrill that had edged the tingling sensation inside past uncomfortable and deeply into painful territory. ‘You’re deluded. Do you
honestly
think that every woman you have met casually sits at her desk lusting after you?’ Maybe not everyone but Libby was willing to bet there were quite a few.