her ears back to her side. She didn’t want to hear what he’d had to say. The silence told him how much she resented his interference.
No matter. He didn’t need to say more. It might be harsh, but it was true.
They walked around a bend, and the trees thinned. Ahead the well-lit stables came into view.
At last Caitlyn spoke. “Is this some sort of crafty attempt to persuade me to desert the Saxons? Some divide-and-rule to get the revenge you crave?”
“Caitlyn—”
“It won’t work. Heath has been a good friend. I’ll always be grateful to him—he’s done so much for me, he even gave me my dream job.”
“So in exchange you presented him your heart.” Jealousy uncurled within Rafaelo. “What else did you give him? You were young, impressionable, he was older, more experienced…did you feel obliged to give him your virginity in exchange for his tutoring?”
She stopped in her tracks.
“Rafaelo!”
The scandalised shock in her voice was too real to be feigned. A silver moonbeam slanted across her face as she looked up at him. “You make it sound so commercial…like a cold, bloodless transaction. It wasn’t like that!”
“So he did take your virginity.”
She gave a sharp sigh of frustration. “He was my tutor—not my boyfriend. And why suspect Heath? There were a gazillion other guys who were only too keen to initiate first-year students to the joys of sex.”
“That’s all?” Relief swelled through Rafaelo like a tidal wave, he ignored the fact that Caitlyn had found some other student to love. All that concerned him was Heath Saxon, the man who was in his face every way he turned, the man who was his half brother. “You never slept with him?”
“We became friends. That’s all! Heath’s never known how I feel about him, so I’d appreciate it if you keep it to yourself.”
“You’ve never touched him like you touched my arm earlier?”
“No!”
“Never felt that bolt of awareness surge between you?”
“Never.” Despite the cover of darkness, she averted her face. “You shouldn’t be asking me these questions—my love life has got nothing to do with you.”
He stopped dead. Grasping her chin, he demanded, “Look at me.”
To his immense frustration the dappled moonlight was too dim to reveal her thoughts.
“How can you say it’s none of my business? Didn’t you feel the charge between us when you touched me earlier? Can’t you feel this…thing between us?”
“No.” She shook her head in fierce denial and her fine silky hair whipped against his arm. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Don’t lie,” he said quietly, furious that she could deny this…this…force that seared him.
“Let me go.”
Silence.
“Please…” Caitlyn shut her eyes. It was hopeless. Rafaelo wouldn’t listen. Her only hope lay in the fact that someone might hear her scream. It was late…dark…the Saxons were all up at the homestead.
“Caitlyn?”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t utter a word.
“Caitlyn, look at me, querida.”
Her eyes snapped open. Rafaelo stood in front of her, still big, still strong. He’d stepped away. He’d released her chin. Now he was frowning down at her. And he didn’t look pleased.
“Caitlyn?”
He sounded worried.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Do you want me to call someone? Megan? Or Kay?”
He wanted to call someone? Why?
“Come, let me take you home, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
She didn’t move.
“I’ll call the homestead—get Kay or Megan to help you.” There was a note of sharp concern in his voice. He already had his cell phone in his hand, the other hand cupped her elbow. No fear flared. She felt only numbness.
She let him lead her to the foot of the black wrought-iron stairwell that led up against the exterior wall to her loft apartment. Heard him hit the buttons on his phone.
“I’m okay,” she said. He wasn’t going to hurt her.
He glanced at her and stuck the phone in his shirt pocket and hastily pressed her shoulders down, until she sank on the stairs. “You’re as white as a ghost. Put your head between your knees.”
She obeyed, heard him settle beside her. The panic had begun to recede.
“Do you need something?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
His gaze was searching. “Has this happened before?”
Oh, yes. But she had no intention of talking about it.
She rose unsteadily to her feet. “I’d better go upstairs and make myself something to drink. Warm milk will help.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Can I take you to the doctor?”
“I don’t need a doctor.” She simply needed to be alone. To have a warm bath and get into bed. Then she’d sleep. She turned away and started to climb the stairs.
“I’ll see you in.”
Instantly the tension was back. “No…I’ll be fine. Really.” She drew a deep breath when he started to argue and hurriedly inserted the key in the door.
A last backward glance showed her that the black eyes were sombre as he stood tall and proud and allowed her to close the door in his face.
“So what do you want me to do?”
Caitlyn’s impatient retort to Jim made her realise that she was being unreasonable. She took a deep breath, thought about the problem that Jim had come to her with and suggested a solution. Then she went and made herself a cup of tea and took it out into the courtyard to the south of the winery.
The morning had passed in a rush. For once the winery wasn’t holding its usual fascination, the blend of art and science not captivating her as it normally did.
It was all Rafaelo’s fault.
Embarrassment rolling like nausea in her stomach had woken her several times during the night. She took a sip of tea. He must think she was a nut. No, he thought she suffered from some medical incapacity.
Most likely insanity.
Setting down the mug on the bench beside her, she groaned in humiliation and buried her head in her hands. How was she ever going to face him again?
He’d wanted to kiss her last night.
But he hadn’t. Because fear had closed in on her, taking over her, until she’d run to her sanctuary, victim to the terror that crawled through her. Silly, scared little kitten.
Kitten. The joking, childish nickname was suddenly a symptom of all that was wrong.
Was it any wonder that Heath had never viewed her as a woman? Rafaelo had been brutally honest last night, telling her that she was wasting her time on Heath.
Deep down she knew he was right. She needed a life. Yes, she needed a wake-up call. Not because she was sleeping—but because she was frozen. A solid block of ice that only looked like a woman. If she hadn’t felt a tinge of bitterness at the waste, she might have found it funny.
But did