Forbidden To Her Spanish Boss by Susan Stephens
CHAPTER FIVE
HISTRANSFERFROMship to shore was seamless, but he couldn’t relax until he knew his team had arrived at the palace. Until he knew Rose had arrived at the palace. Infuriating woman! Why was she always in his head? No matter how many times he told himself that caring for anyone outside his immediate family might attract fate to take an interest, he appeared unable to stifle his concern for Rose. The evening would be dull without her. Even if she appeared in her interview suit she would light up the room.
He’d gone ahead of his team to meet the Prince in private to discuss some upcoming polo matches, and now he was pacing the ballroom like a youth on his first date.
Where the hell was she?
Glancing at his watch, he spat out a curse. It was only two minutes since the last time he’d looked. He had skipped a reception after his business with the Prince to make sure he was here in time to reassure Rose that this vast space, with its ceiling painted by some protégée of Michelangelo, glorious marble floor, stately pillars and glittering chandeliers, was merely top dressing for what really mattered, which were the charities that would benefit from the after-dinner auction tonight. He was confident the stuffed shirts present would be captivated by Rose’s warmth and charm, and he couldn’t wait for them to meet her. What a surprise they’d have, in the form of a spirited Irishwoman with laughter in her eyes and kindness in her heart.
Kindness was perhaps Rose’s greatest asset, he reflected, that and her voluptuous body, which was outstanding. His thoughts jumped to what she’d wear for such a dazzling occasion. It was impossible to predict anything where Rose was concerned, apart from the fact that she’d be true to herself, and that in itself set her apart.
Spying His Serene Highness making directly for him forced him to concentrate on the here and now. There could be no more glancing up the sweeping marble staircase to see if Rose had arrived, or staring at his watch, willing the hands to move, but he found it hard to concentrate on what the Prince was saying, and could only trust he dipped his head and nodded in all the right places as the Prince went on. ‘I’d like to discuss the details of our polo matches with your head groom present—’
A flurry at the top of the stairs distracted them both. They weren’t alone in inhaling sharply. The palace ballroom had hosted many beautiful women, but none could compare to the woman at the top of the stairs.
Rose had paused in a halo of light, to take in her surroundings and get her bearings, he guessed. The impulse to leave the Prince, mount the stairs and escort her down the sweeping staircase was overwhelming, but this was Rose. This was her moment. No hiding in the shadows tonight, she was obviously determined to put on a good show for him, and if that meant dressing like a queen, and lifting her chin to warm the room with her smile, then that was exactly what she would do.
‘I have to say, you have impeccable taste,’ the Prince observed in a discreet murmur.
‘Rose is an exceptional horsewoman,’ he replied, refusing to besmirch Rose’s reputation with even the slightest hint of impropriety.
As he had expected, Rose didn’t wait for anyone to escort her down the steps. Several contenders tried, and were all charmingly but firmly dismissed. Chin up, eyes smiling, Rose appeared to float down the stairs wearing the highest of heels. How long before she kicked them off? he wondered with amusement.
Leaving the Prince with a gracious bow, he waited at the foot of the stairs. Rose’s exquisite green eyes smiled into his, but the enchantment of her presence was infectious, and the Prince lost no time in joining him to welcome Rose.
‘You’ll sit with us on the top table,’ His Serene Highness insisted with his customary charm.
‘I’d be honoured, Your Serene Highness,’ Rose replied engagingly.
Only the swift blush that pinked her cheeks told him how surprised she was to receive this invitation. When she glanced at Raffa and raised an awestruck brow, he smiled and nodded with genuine pleasure for Rose.
‘You look stunning,’ he whispered when the Prince left them to join his wife. He recognised the peach-coloured dress with its illusion underskirt as one he had particularly favoured. The close fit did more than hint at the perfection of the body underneath, while the colour brought out the highlights of gold and copper in Rose’s ravishingly beautiful hair. She had chosen to wear her hair down tonight and looked amazing.
‘Stunning?’ she queried in the same discreet tone. ‘You mean, I’m not wearing breeches smeared in mud?’
‘I mean,’ he said, ‘you look beautiful tonight.’
‘You’re blinded by the jewels I’m wearing,’ she teased, referring to the spectacular diamond earrings and necklace he’d had couriered to the Pegasus especially for tonight. Everyone was clearly wearing their best pieces, and he hadn’t wanted Rose to feel left out. ‘I wondered what etc meant when I read your text,’ she added with an impish smile, ‘and now I know.’
‘I’m pleased you chose to wear them,’ he admitted as he escorted her to the Prince’s table. ‘I was by no means certain that you would.’
‘I couldn’t leave them rusting away in that old jewel case. I’ll never get the chance to wear things like this again,’ she added, touching her fingertips reverently to the intricate diamond necklace. ‘So, I thought, why not?’
‘Why not, indeed?’ he agreed, enjoying the novelty of a woman who would never take such extravagant jewels for granted. ‘Enjoy them while you can.’
‘There is another possibility,’ she suggested.
Her words made him tense. Was Rose about to disappoint him like all the rest by being so overcome by the obvious value of the jewels, she’d see no further than his bank balance? ‘What’s that?’ he queried mildly.
‘I agree to become your mistress,’ she said, perfectly straight-faced. ‘Then, I can wear jewels like this all the time.’
Disappointment slapped him in the face, to the point where he almost missed what she said next.
‘Even when I’m mucking out,’ she added with a grin. ‘In fact, I’d like to order a tiara to complete the set. As Head Groom, I should have some sort of badge of authority, don’t you think...?’
There was a moment of stunned silence and then he laughed as such a strong sense of relief flooded through him. He’d certainly met his match in Rose. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea—’
‘Hold on!’ She held up her hand. ‘I’ve thought of an even better one.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You donate the jewels to the charity auction tonight.’
‘Donate the jewels?’ he exclaimed with surprise. ‘I had intended for you to keep them—to wear on occasions like this.’
Rose gasped, hand to chest. ‘What a responsibility! Where would I keep them—in the hay store? Look, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but there are some fabulous fakes out there at a fraction of the cost, if you think it’s important for me to wear jewels. Personally, I just can’t see why they’re necessary. Either people are interested in what I have to say about your ponies, or they’re not. And, just think about it,’ she confided, bringing her fragrant head close to his, ‘the proceeds from the sale of these gems could be put to far better use.’
He shrugged. ‘You make a good argument. Auction them, by all means. I’m only sorry I didn’t think of it myself.’
‘That’s what a head groom’s for,’ she teased.
‘Do you take anything seriously?’ he asked as Rose’s eyes fired with an engaging triumph that had nothing to do with her going one better than him, and everything to do with Rose’s generous nature finding an outlet tonight in the charity auction.
‘Oh, yes,’ she told him with a level stare. ‘I take my job very seriously indeed.’
‘Which is exactly why I brought you here.’
‘Then I’d better get to work,’ she said, breaking the spell.
Their lips had been close, stares locked, as the fate of the jewels was decided.
Feelings he’d ruthlessly subdued for years continued to bombard him as he stepped back. ‘The Prince is already seated. We should join him.’
‘Is that you hinting I’ve said enough?’ Rose asked with a twinkle.
‘More than enough,’ he confirmed mock-sternly as he took the greatest pleasure in escorting Rose to the Prince’s table. Lavishing extravagant gifts on a woman had always been his way of easing his guilt at feeling nothing for them, but Rose needed no such gifts or grand gestures. She thought with her heart when it came to riches, and had touched him deeply with her suggestion to auction the jewels.
‘You look happy,’ she remarked as they approached the Prince’s table.
‘I am,’ he admitted. Rose made him look outwards, instead of brooding on the past. How could he not feel happy about that?
Dinner, as expected, was excellent, and it was further enhanced by Rose, who once again played her part to perfection, charming everyone. When the plates were cleared the auction began. There were some big-ticket items, attracting huge sums of money, but when Rose was introduced, and stood to offer her stunning jewels for the charity, there was a collective gasp. The Prince, who had already been informed of the donation, had invited Raffa to take the rostrum, to handle what was confidently expected to be a record-breaking sale.
The first bid was a million, and it went on from there. At one point, Raffa jokingly reminded his audience that Rose was not part of the deal. She smiled sweetly at him, to a chorus of groans, but it was the look that passed between them that briefly stilled the crowd. The magic of a supposed liaison between them had the added bonus of driving bids even higher.
‘Congratulations!’ The Prince stood to applaud them both as Rose’s jewels were sold for an astonishing amount. ‘You make a great double act,’ he remarked. ‘Thank you both for your most generous donation.’
Rose handled the praise with her customary modesty, and soon had the Prince laughing at some quip she’d made. Later, when His Serene Highness had left the table, she reached across to hand Raffa something. ‘What’s this?’ he asked. Instinct drove him to close his fist around Rose’s pale, cool fingers.
‘If you let go of me,’ she whispered discreetly, ‘you’ll find out.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘You’ll have one cufflink, instead of a pair. You dropped it at the wedding, when we were in the stable.’
Shock and a bittersweet sense of relief shot through him with the force of an arrow. ‘And you’ve waited until now to give it to me?’
‘Thank you is enough,’ she scolded him lightly.
‘Thank you,’ he gritted out ungraciously.
Making his excuses to their table companions, he pushed back his chair and stood, indicating that Rose should do the same. For once, she complied, almost certainly because his face was so thunderous and she feared a scene.
‘What have I done wrong?’ she demanded as he ushered her at speed in the direction of the French windows leading on to the palace gardens. He stopped short on the veranda at the top of the steps. Losing the cufflink had devastated him, but his carelessness wasn’t Rose’s fault and he shouldn’t take his self-recrimination out on her.
‘You kept it safe for me all this time,’ he confirmed gruffly.
‘Of course I did.’ Rose looked at him with concern. ‘I didn’t realise it meant so much to you, or I’d have made sure to get it back to you right away.’
‘You kept it as a talisman instead.’
‘Yes...it did feel like one,’ she admitted with a puzzled frown. ‘You think that too?’
‘The cufflinks are special. I’ve always believed they carry a special magic. I’ve been kicking myself for being so careless ever since one disappeared.’ Holding the jewel tightly in his fist for a moment, before stowing it safely in an inside pocket, he explained, ‘They were the last gift from my mother.’
‘Oh, Raffa...’
Rose was right. There were no words. After a silence, she led the way down the steps. His uncertain mood must have left her wondering if he’d follow, but as always Rose was both undaunted and sensitive to what was needed most, which was distance between them and everyone else at the Prince’s ball.
She carried on through the subtly lit gardens, without attempting to speak, or comfort him. She didn’t need to. An understanding had sprung between them, based on their shared grief.
How Rose wished she could reach inside Raffa and drag out all his pain. She felt so frustrated as they walked along. A determined woman didn’t like to admit defeat, nor find it easy to accept there was a problem she couldn’t solve, but so much of Raffa remained hidden. The only way forward, Rose decided, was to look at the small part of his grief he had shared with her as the first step on a long journey. Would she be a part of the rest of that journey? There was no way to tell. They’d be returning to the ranch soon, where life would return to normal. Rose would be fully occupied in the stable, while Raffa resumed his busy life. Their sole connection would be work, with chances to be close as human beings nigh on impossible. Determined to change that for a time, she dipped down to slip off her shoes. ‘We’re both due a night free from guilt and the past. A night to run free,’ she declared, and with that, she was off.
Picking up her skirts, she ran across coarse European grass that pricked her feet, but it was damp and refreshing, and with each step she took, the sense of freedom increased. An ornate fountain dominated the centre of the lawn. It held the promise of cooling spray, as well as shade and privacy behind its elaborate stonework. The scent of flowers was intoxicating, and so was the thought of the man stalking her. She ran faster and faster into a situation of her own creation, knowing she could be risking everything on an impulse.
She skirted behind the fountain and held her breath. Closing her eyes as she rested back against the cold stone, she knew what she ought to do, when Raffa found her, and that was thank him for a wonderful evening and politely say goodnight, but if she didn’t want to take things to the next level, what was she doing here? And if Raffa didn’t want the very same thing, why was he coming after her?
Every moment seemed to stretch into an hour, and she almost jumped out of her skin when he finally rounded the fountain. Even in the dark, she felt his black stare on her face. It scorched its way through her body, heating every erotic zone she possessed, but, instead of yanking her into his arms as she’d halfway hoped, Raffa kept his distance, and stared out to sea. Had she misjudged this chemistry between them? Perhaps he didn’t feel the same way she did. Maybe she was in danger of making a fool of herself. Upfront as always, she went ahead to find out. ‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.
‘That isn’t sensible, Rose.’
‘I don’t care,’ she replied stubbornly.