The Thorn in His Side (4 page)

Libby regarded him warily.

‘In the litigious world of today such painful honesty can be an expensive luxury.’

Libby shivered and, hugging herself, rubbed at the goose bumps that had broken out on her arms. Some women, she was sure, would have found the resulting suggestion of something approaching cruelty in his smile attractive; she was glad she was not one of them.

But, God, he knew how to kiss!

‘Is that some sort of threat?’

Before he could reply the sound of an excitedly barking dog bursting through the bushes the other side of the road made them both turn.

‘Is he real enough for you?’ Libby raised a sarcastic brow and threw him a challenging glare of triumph as she dropped gracefully down to dog level.

‘Eustace, good boy!’

The dog continued to bark from an elusive distance.

Rafael watched her efforts to lure him closer with a critical scowl. ‘At heart a dog is still a wolf, a pack animal who needs to know who is in charge.’

Libby cast him a sideways look of dislike as she continued to make encouraging noises. ‘And that I suppose would be you.’ Admittedly if any man had pack alpha written all over him it was this one.

‘My lifestyle is not conducive to owning pets.’ That was the life he had chosen for himself, the life that suited him. No baggage, nobody to feel responsible for.

He had given responsibility a go and he had failed; the guilt of failing the person he had tried to protect had stayed with him through the years.

He had failed the only person he had ever loved.

It didn’t matter to Rafael that most people would have considered it the mother’s job to keep the son safe and not vice versa. His mother had been one of life’s fragile souls worn down by rejection and hungry for the approval of whatever man was in her life, eager to gain their approval even when pleasing them meant dumping her inconvenient child with whoever would take him.

She had always come back for him eaten up with guilt, calling him the only man in her life, and for a while things were good, but there was always another
man. And then finally she had not come back and Rafael had gone in search of her, arriving too late.

She had died alone in a remote village that did not even have clean water, let alone a doctor, and Rafael had not been able to afford a headstone.

He had been fifteen at the time and it had taken him two years to return with a headstone. The village
now had clean running water and last year he had laid the foundation stone of a clinic.

‘But that doesn’t stop you being an expert,’ Libby drawled. ‘Why aren’t I surprised? For your information Eustace was badly abused. He needs TLC, not bullying and he—’ Just warming to her theme, Libby suddenly stopped as the tension he was vibrating reached her. She tilted her head back to look at his face.

‘Are you all right?’

She was confused as much by her reaction to the shocking desolation she had glimpsed in his heavy-lidded eyes as by the cause of it, and her questioning gaze went to a possible source: his head wound.

‘Your head?’ Not that physical pain would explain the awful anguish she had glimpsed in his eyes.

Rafael looked into her wide eyes, blue as a summer sky and warm with concern, and fought the illogical impulse to lash out, punish her for seeing more than she was meant to.

‘My head is fine,’ he said, taking a step forward while mentally taking several backwards, pushing away the dark memories and focusing instead on the pleasant present and the more than pleasant tantalising glimpse of cleavage revealed as he stared down the neck of her loose necked sweater.

‘So you understand about animals.’

Catching the direction of his bold stare, Libby felt
her breasts tingle. And for a moment there she had been in danger of imagining he had some depth! She gave a disgusted snort and swung away. The fact her body continued to react without her consent increased her self-disgust.

‘Let’s put it this way—I find them infinitely preferable to men,’ she gritted, feeling impelled to add, ‘Some men.’ She pretended not to hear his husky laugh. ‘So if you don’t mind.’ She turned back to him and mimed a zipping motion across her lips.

After a startled moment Rafael grinned and inclined his dark head. ‘Be my guest.’

Libby, aware of her silent critic, continued her attempt to coax Eustace to her until her patience snapped. She rose to her feet, muttering under her breath as she dragged a swathe of hair back from her face before directing a frustrated glare his way.

‘Fine, if you’re so clever …?’ she snapped, irrationally hoping he was equally unsuccessful.

Of course he wasn’t.

He stepped forward, said a couple of authoritative-sounding words in his own language, and the dog—suddenly he could speak Spanish—trotted forward meekly looking sheepish.

Libby gritted her teeth and thought, Traitor, as after another word the dog sat down at his feet, wagging his tail while he gazed adoringly up at the man who condescended to pat his head and murmur a word of praise before bending to gather the lead from the ground.

Libby’s chest swelled with indignation, making her even more uncomfortably conscious of the fabric chafing against her nipples. It was a conspiracy, she brooded darkly, first betrayed by her own body and now the dog.

Libby took the lead silently proffered her and viewed
him through narrowed eyes. ‘If I took you home my family would probably want to adopt you.’ She drew the dog towards her, patting his head.

‘Would that not make me your brother?’ he taunted.

‘I already have a brother, and I’m sure you have your own family.’ And maybe a wife?

The possibility filled her with horror. Had she kissed not just a stranger, but a
married
stranger? Checking out his left hand, she was relieved to see no wedding band.

Rafael shook his head. ‘No, my mother died some years ago. There is no one else of note.’

‘That is so sad!’ Libby exclaimed.

‘S
AD
?’ Rafael raised a brow and watched the glow of sympathy fade from her blue eyes as he added cynically, ‘From what I see of families I am not envious. Down,’ he added in a stern aside as the dog, whimpering, rubbed against his leg.

The dog immediately rolled onto his back submissively.

‘Eustace!’ Exasperated, Libby tugged the dog back towards her. ‘You really are an idiot!’

‘I have been called worse.’

‘Not you …’ Libby saw the mocking glint in his deep-set eyes and, fighting a grin, added gruffly, ‘Well, you are, but on this occasion I was talking to the dog.’

Rafael’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile that faded as a car came round the corner.

Libby, aware that she had lost his attention, turned in the direction of his gaze and saw a bright red classic sports car driven with the top down heading towards them at a sedate pace.

The driver waved when she spotted them and slowed.

Rafael did not wave, but it seemed a safe bet to Libby that the woman who parked the car and leapt gracefully from the vehicle was not a stranger.

Libby watched the woman’s progress, envying the
voluptuous figure, the length of her legs and her ability to make skin-tight jeans look good. From a distance she looked fantastic, depressingly close to she looked even more perfect.

Libby watched the woman’s fashionable twenties bob swinging in a silky bell around her face and envied the sleekness of a style she could never achieve with her own naturally curly hair.

‘Ra—Oh, God,
blood!’
exclaimed the blonde, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘I feel sick.’

So did Libby. What sort of man kissed another woman while his girlfriend was on her way to rescue him?

‘Kindly endeavour not to be sick.’

She had her answer: the sort of man who spoke to his girlfriend like that, Libby thought, wondering why the woman not only took the harsh advice in her stride, but appeared
grateful!

‘Sorry I’m late. I got stuck behind a tractor. Do you think it will scar?’ she wondered, her eyes trained with sick fascination on his injured face. ‘Have you cleaned it? There could be dirt.’

Sensing that his PA was about to go into full OCD mode, Rafael pitched his reply in a tone aimed at defusing the situation before it got out of hand.

When she had a handle on her compulsive behaviour Gretchen was the best PA he had ever had, but when she lost it things could get … interesting. Like the time the cleaning supervisor had rung him at midnight saying he might want to know that his assistant was still there switching the light on and off, unable to leave the room.

In retrospect he could see that the clues that should have alerted him to her condition had been there, he
just hadn’t noticed. This did not make Rafael feel good about himself. He expected those who worked for him to go the extra mile and what he expected he should also be prepared to give. One of the first lessons Rafael had learnt was that loyalty was a two-way street.

He had refused to accept her tearfully offered resignation, pointing out that it made no sense to lose the best PA he had ever had just because she felt the need to spend an hour washing her hands.

Instead he had acquired the name of a clinical psychologist who came highly recommended and insisted that she undertake therapy sessions. It had been a good call—they had proved dramatically successful but, as Gretchen said herself, she was a work in progress.

‘The wound has been cleaned,’ Rafael said, pre-empting the production of the cleaning products he knew would be in her car.

Libby opened her mouth to indignantly refute this and found herself on the receiving end of a killer look. She gave as good as she got glarewise and lapsed into tight-lipped silence.

‘And you are not late.’

Gretchen shook her head and glanced fretfully at her watch. ‘I said ten minutes and it’s—’

Rafael cut her off. ‘You are here now.’

‘Yes, I am.’ She flashed her boss a smile and took a deep breath. ‘Thanks. I’ve arranged a tow truck and rung ahead to delay the meeting with the Russians and—’ She stopped and let out a yelp as the Labrador laid a friendly muddy paw on her leg.

Rafael clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Down!’ The disapproving look that went with the command was aimed at Libby, not the dog. ‘Can you not control that animal?’

‘Not according to you,’ Libby flashed.

A few feet away the tall gorgeous blonde continued to pat frantically at her jeans, making what seemed to Libby like an awful lot of fuss over a tiny amount of mud. The woman had barely glanced her way, let alone introduced herself. They were suited in more ways than one, both beautiful and both incredibly rude, then it hit her—she didn’t even know his name!

‘It is nothing, Gretchen, relax.’

The blonde looked at the hand on her shoulder and gave a gulping gasp, then with one last fretful dab at the invisible speck of dirt lifted her head. ‘I really don’t like the country.’

‘Wait for me in the car.’

And she did.

His ability to inspire unquestioning obedience was obviously not restricted to the canine community, it worked on beautiful six-foot blondes as well.

‘Does everyone jump when you snap your fingers?’ Libby screwed up her nose and gave a pained grimace. ‘I said that out loud, didn’t I?’

Rafael nodded, his lips twitching. ‘The answer to your question is no.’ The redhead did not jump except in the opposite direction—perhaps that was the attraction …? On the other hand it might be the incredible body and the lush lips.

Libby did not need to pretend surprise. ‘You amaze me.’

‘I have that effect.’

Libby’s stomach took a sharp unscheduled dip as the explicit glow in his expressive eyes sent a rush of shameful heat through her body. Molten hot, it settled disturbingly between her thighs.

Libby flushed, her anger at least in part aimed at the weakness that made her respond to him this way.

‘I’m not interested. Maybe you should try and
amaze
your girlfriend.’

His brows lifted as he encountered the hostility shining in her eyes. ‘Gretchen is my PA, not my girlfriend, and I do not mix business with pleasure.’ He stopped, an arrested look filtering into his eyes as he realised he had just broken the habit of a lifetime and explained himself.

Libby gave an airy shrug to establish she had no interest in his relationship with the blonde whatsoever. The knowing gleam in his heavy-lidded eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely convincing.

‘You shouldn’t keep your …’ she jerked her head towards the red car ‘…
PA
waiting.’

He directed a frowning glance towards the car; she was right. ‘True.’

‘Don’t let me keep you.’ The words were barely out of her mouth before she gave a contradictory urgent cry of, ‘Wait!’

‘You are missing me already. I’m touched.’

Libby directed an ‘if I see you again in this lifetime it will be too soon’ look at him and pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket. ‘Do you have a pen?’

Rafael pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and watched as she began to scribble on the paper.

‘Here,’ Libby said, pushing it at him.

‘What is this—your telephone number?’

‘My name and address,’ she retorted, refusing to react to the mockery in his voice. She glanced towards the damaged vehicle. ‘Send me the bill for the damage.’

Rafael glanced down at the words on the paper. ‘That could be quite a bill.’

‘I pay my debts,’ she told him proudly. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, frowning as he did a visible double take.

‘Marchant? Would that connect you to Marchant Plastics?’

‘My grandfather began the firm and my dad runs it now. Have I said something amusing?’ she asked spikily. ‘What are you doing?’ she added as he screwed up the paper between his long fingers. ‘I mean it—I want to pay for the damage.’

‘I won’t hold you to it, but don’t worry, I have an excellent memory.’

Puzzling over the cryptic parting shot, Libby stood watching as he walked away and got into the car with the beautiful blonde, not once looking back.

Of course he didn’t look back! He had probably already dismissed her from his memory, or maybe he was sharing an amusing anecdote about the incident with his blonde PA—sure, that was
really
likely.