Heidi Rice

Modern Romance January Books 5-8


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being honest hurts people more,’ she said with soft passion. ‘Because in the end the truth does always come out.’

      He shook his head. ‘You’re so wrong. People lie and get away with it every day. Not just murderers. Cheats. Thieves. Everyday white lies as well.’

      ‘But it eats them up inside,’ she said softly. ‘Sure, you may never know that someone has lied to you, but the liar knows. And the liar suffers for it. Even if they think they don’t, they do. They’re weakened. Each lie breaks them down piece by piece.’

      His gaze intensified on her. ‘Told a lot of lies in your lifetime?’

      She held his gaze and her smile twisted. ‘More than you’d ever believe.’

      And she’d been weakened by every one.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘YOU’VE LIED YOUR head off your whole life?’ Rafe didn’t believe her. But he was drawn in by the shadows flickering in her eyes. ‘Why so many lies?’

      ‘For protection, as you suggested. But it still does damage and I refuse to lie any more.’ She squared her shoulders and smiled. But it wasn’t the bubbly smile he’d seen earlier when she’d been amongst the roses and he wondered if she was actually serious.

      ‘I’m like you,’ she said. ‘Upfront about what I want out of my life. What I will accept, and what I won’t.’

      ‘What makes you think I’m upfront about what I want from my life?’ How did she think she knew anything about him?

      ‘You’re decisive and take action to get what you want. The fact that I’m sitting in your car right now is a perfect example of your determination.’

      Good point. He was used to getting his way, though honestly he’d not been certain she’d agree to attend the party with him. Even now he wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped away once they arrived at the palazzo. He’d have to keep her occupied.

      ‘But if this is the “new you”, then you’re getting what you want as well,’ he teased.

      He’d been absurdly satisfied when she’d said yes, but it had been his first victory of a less than stellar day and he’d take it.

      ‘Once I’d had the time to process your...invitation, I realised it could be an interesting experience.’ She nodded primly, but the effect was ruined when an effervescent smile lit up her face. ‘Not one I’m likely to repeat.’

      True, though why the fact should give him a twinge, he didn’t know. He’d been feeling off all day. He’d deliberately not visited the Villa Rosetta until the refurbishment was complete, but while he could appreciate its beauty and value, there’d not been the pleasure of getting what he’d wanted for so long.

      Fool. What had he expected? The decades-old promise that the villa represented had never been fulfilled and never could be. His father, Roland, was long since dead. And that finality left an unusual melancholy just beneath his skin.

      So not Rafe. He never wasted time looking backwards, he pushed forward, making headway against the resistance he was accustomed to. He pushed harder than anyone because he’d always had to. Illegitimate, unwanted heir that he was. Securing the villa should have been a pinnacle moment but it was larger than he’d realised. Its vastness screamed out for more people to be living in it. For the family he’d never had.

      Fool. He wasn’t eight years old and full of fairy-tale dreams for a loving family now.

      The woman wandering about the grounds had been a welcome distraction. He’d watched from the villa, initially outraged at her blithe trespassing. But he’d grown increasingly intrigued as she’d strolled through the roses with that smile lighting up her face.

      ‘The fireworks are supposed to be spectacular,’ she said as she waited for him to start the car. ‘You’re promising me all the fireworks, right?’

      He glanced at her profile—had she really meant that as innocently as it had sounded? She turned to look at him fully, her expression limpid. The longer he looked at her, the deeper the colour ran in her cheeks. He was fascinated by the hint of vulnerability in her reaction.

      ‘What?’ she suddenly snapped. ‘Do I have something on my nose?’

      He shook his head slowly. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

      ‘What? No!’ That colour in her cheeks ran crimson now. ‘Hurry up and drive. I want to see the fireworks. I’ve been looking forward to them all day.’

      Warmth flowed through his veins. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you were flirting with me.’

      Her mouth opened, then closed, then her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re shocking, you know that?’ She stared straight ahead as if to ignore him. But then suddenly turned to snap at him again. ‘Does everyone flirt with you?’

      ‘Mostly.’ Still grinning, he finally started the engine, enjoying the crazy whim that had led him to take a total stranger to the most exclusive party on the European continent.

      Her eyes had hit him the second he’d been able to see again after wiping all that water from his own. Large and framed with long lashes, they were caramel-coloured and captivated him completely. When he added her flawless, lightly tanned skin, providing a perfect backdrop for those wide eyes and lovely curving lips, it made for pretty. Her long hair was tied back in a bun but had hints of blonde and brown in the loose tendrils that curled about her sweetheart-shaped face...

      Yes, it all added up to his new definition of gorgeous. She was on the shorter side, with curves in the places he appreciated most. That worn denim skirt had stopped just at her knees and shown smooth-looking legs, while her blouse had been floral. He’d liked the way the buttons had strained to contain her breasts. He’d imagined popping them open one by one. But in the end it had been the melted caramel colour of her eyes—all sweet warmth—that he’d kept returning to. There was a lightness in them that he found unusual, enchanting, sweet.

      Rafe did not do sweet. Rafe did sophisticated. It was safer to play with women who knew the rules of the one-night-only game. But fresh, half-wet, funny Grace intrigued him. Temptation had been irresistible and reckless.

      So now here she was alongside him, wearing a killer dress that emphasised every one of those bountiful curves. He wanted to kiss down that deep scooped neckline and feel her lean closer for more. His muscles tensed.

      Well, he had been celibate for six weeks—virtually a marathon for him and the longest stretch in his adult life. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on the winding road. Grace was not a one-night-stand prospect. She wasn’t the type. When she’d said this was the most adventurous night of her life so far, she’d meant it.

      A small army of models was arriving at the villa tomorrow. There’d be more than one to frolic with afterwards if he still wanted to. Frankly, though, the speculation didn’t excite him.

      He glanced at Grace again and wished he had that hose once more. If that dress were wet, it’d turn translucent and he’d know for certain that she wore nothing beneath it. He suspected so, he could almost see the outline of her nipples. He shifted in his seat and touched his foot harder on the accelerator, irritated with his sudden descent into basic thinking. Was he suddenly some hormonal teen? The sooner they got to the party, the sooner he could get a grip on himself.

      Palazzo Chiara was lit up like a fairy-tale castle. He pulled up by the waiting valet and scooted around to help Grace out before she tripped on the stones or something equally unfortunate. But his half-sarcastic gallantry was rewarded when he saw the look on her face as she gazed at the palazzo.

      ‘You like it?’ He couldn’t help smiling at her reaction.

      ‘It’s