A Prize Beyond Jewels. Кэрол Мортимер

Nina cared. Her father’s years of protection might have made her totally inadequate when it came to dealing with men as experienced as Rafe D’Angelo, but she wasn’t about to let herself be the cause of any man’s amusement, least of all the arrogant and mocking Rafe D’Angelo.

      She stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll inform my father that you’ve accepted his dinner invitation for tomorrow evening,’ she bit out abruptly.

      Rafe raised his gaze reluctantly from enjoying the pertness of Nina Palitov’s breasts, part of that enjoyment having been knowing, by the sudden tautness and swelling of her nipples, that she was far from immune to his appreciative gaze.

      But one look at Nina’s face, seeing the pained accusation in those moss-green eyes, the creamy pallor of her cheeks, and the defensive angle of her little pointed chin, and he felt like a complete heel for having behaved so badly. He was angry with his own unexpected physical response to this woman, with Michael for putting him in this position in the first place, even a little with Dmitri Palitov for the same reason, but that didn’t give him the right to take that anger out on Nina.

      Rafe stood up to move round to the side of his desk, the two of them now standing only inches apart. ‘Will you be joining us for dinner tomorrow evening?’ he prompted softly.

      She looked up at him warily. ‘I believe my father will expect me to be there to act as his hostess, yes.’

      His brows rose. ‘You don’t live with your father?’

      ‘Not quite.’ Nina smiled slightly as she thought of her apartment. It was located in the same building that housed her father’s penthouse apartment, a building that he also owned, and over which he had complete control of all security. Not the complete independence Nina would wish for, but it was better than she had inwardly expected after returning from Stanford.

      Rafe D’Angelo eyed her quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’

      She gave a shake of her head; her father didn’t discuss their living arrangements with anyone, and consequently some of that need for secrecy had rubbed off on her. ‘It means I will be at my father’s apartment for dinner tomorrow evening.’

      ‘But you aren’t about to tell me where you live?’ Rafe D’Angelo guessed ruefully.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Not even if I were to offer to call for you and drive you to your father’s apartment?’

      ‘No,’ she refused huskily. ‘And I know my father intends to send one of his cars to collect you. He wanted me to confirm that your apartment is still on Fifth Avenue?’

      Rafe felt a stirring of unease; Dmitri Palitov seemed to know far too much about him for comfort—far more than Rafe knew about the other man or his beautiful daughter.

      ‘It is,’ he confirmed slowly. ‘Thank him for me, but I would prefer to drive myself.’ Having his own transport meant that Rafe could leave when he’d had enough. He also bridled at the thought of being organised by the arrogant Dmitri Palitov!

      Nina Palitov frowned at his refusal. ‘I know my father would prefer to have one of his cars collect you.’

      ‘And I would prefer to drive myself,’ Rafe repeated unrelentingly.

      ‘I very much doubt you know where he lives.’

      ‘I doubt many people do,’ he came back knowingly.

      ‘No.’

      He nodded briskly. ‘Perhaps you would like to leave the address with my secretary some time tomorrow? After you’ve spoken to your father again, of course.’

      She chewed on her bottom lip, instantly drawing Rafe’s attention to those pouting, slightly reddened lips, and in turn to those captivating moss-green eyes. He realised his mistake as he felt as if he were drowning in those smoky-green depths.

      Just as he was aware the rest of him was being pulled, as if by a magnet, towards her, as his head slowly lowered—

      ‘I should go and check security now,’ Nina rasped abruptly even as she stepped back and away from him. ‘I’ll pass your message on to my father.’

      ‘Fine.’ Rafe straightened abruptly, inwardly cursing the obviously increasing attraction he felt towards Nina Palitov, and sincerely hoping his date this evening with Jennifer would put that attraction out of his mind—and appease his aching body! ‘Do you want me to come down with you to view security in the basement?’

      Nina gave a rueful smile at the obvious lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘I believe that I can find my own way, thank you.’

      Rafe eyed her irritably. ‘I was being polite.’

      ‘I noticed,’ she drawled.

      Rafe nodded abruptly before striding across to open the office door for her, a little disconcerted at instantly finding himself the focus of two pairs of wraparound sunglasses, the two bodyguards—Rich and Andy?— standing directly outside the door. ‘I assure you, Miss Palitov has come to no harm while in my office,’ he drawled mockingly.

      There wasn’t so much as an answering smile in either of those two grimly set faces, neither man sparing Rafe a second glance as Nina stepped out into the hallway. ‘Good day to you, Mr D’Angelo,’ she murmured before walking off towards the lift, the two men falling into step behind her.

      Which in no way hindered Rafe of the view of Nina Palitov’s heart-shaped backside in those tight-fitting denims. A view his once-again throbbing body enjoyed to the full.

      He was in trouble—serious trouble!—Rafe acknowledged with a low groan, if just looking at the perfect curve of Nina’s bottom in a pair of tight-fitting denims could succeed in making his shaft swell and ache!