She wanted to stare and just keep on staring. His black hair was slightly too long and swept back from a face that was chiselled to the sort of perfection no camera could ever fully capture. Midnight-dark eyes were fringed with lush dark lashes, his nose was aquiline and his mouth wide and crazily sensual. Every single thing about the man emanated the sort of fierce, aggressive sex appeal that made her heart beat a little faster and sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs, dampening her underwear.
It was an immediate reaction that infuriated her because Sofia knew that she should know better.
From the age of thirteen she had known what it felt like to be the unwilling object of attention from the opposite sex. She had fought off unwanted, uninvited advances and then, when she’d been fifteen, one advance in particular from a married friend of her mother’s had made her realise that her looks weren’t a blessing in disguise. They were a curse.
Since then, she had been at pains to guard herself against men, holding out for ‘the one’ but not caring all that much if ‘the one’ never came her way—just knowing that she would never, ever sell herself short or settle for anything less than what she thought she deserved.
And she would certainly never allow looks to define her the way they had her mother.
‘You’d better come in,’ she said, a little more sharply than she’d intended. She stood back and the guy brushed past her. And there it went again…that tingle of sexual awareness that seemed to bypass all her natural defence systems.
She inched back when, having surveyed the impressive hall, he spun round to look at her.
‘Where are they?’
‘Who?’
‘The Walters. Where are they? Shouldn’t they be here to meet and greet?’
Sofia was torn between marvelling at the sheer audacity of the man and bristling at his arrogance.
He was looking at her, his dark eyes veiled and lazily assessing.
‘I don’t think they were planning on deferring their skiing holiday to give the temporary gardener the red-carpet treatment.’
‘Nice house.’
‘Is that all you’ve brought with you by way of luggage?’ She eyed the battered hold-all.
Rafael shrugged. ‘I like to travel light.’
‘Can I get something for you to drink? Eat?’
‘Is that your job here? Housekeeper?’
Rafael knew exactly what the woman did. In fact, he knew a great deal more about her than she ever could have imagined, because he had done some extensive background checks himself. His godfather might have had romantic notions of destiny throwing a daughter his way. Rafael was a little less trusting on that front.
The one thing he hadn’t known was just quite how stunning she would be in the flesh. Long, dark, curling hair was carelessly tied back. Her skin was the colour of pale coffee and as smooth as silk and her eyes were vivid green, densely lashed and almond-shaped.
Not exactly the meek and mild goody-two-shoes his godfather was doubtless hoping for. Wasn’t life full of surprises?
‘I’m the nanny.’ Sofia stuck out her chin at a defiant angle. She was a nanny, and she wasn’t ashamed of that, but in her heart she could have been so much more. However, a chequered background that involved far too much moving around had wreaked havoc with her education.
Hopes for a rewarding career had died a slow death over the years, because doors never opened for someone with a patchy academic record. Yes, she was making up for lost time now, but it wasn’t going to happen overnight, and meanwhile…
‘Does the nanny have a name?’
‘Sofia. Sofia Suarez. You never said—do you want anything to eat or drink? Naturally, I cannot raid the liquor cabinet to offer you anything alcoholic, but tea? Coffee? I could make you a sandwich.’
‘Nothing alcoholic? In that case, I’ll forgo the tea and coffee for some water, and a sandwich would be good.’ He strolled through the kitchen. Big kitchen. Big house. Expensive people leading an expensive lifestyle.
‘Please don’t touch anything,’ she said anxiously from behind him as he began opening drawers. Rafael slowly turned to look at her.
‘If they’ve left you in charge here, they must expect you to open drawers and cupboards.’
‘Of course, but…’ Slow, hot colour crept into her cheeks.
‘But you’re the nanny and, when it comes to pecking order, the nanny ranks higher than the gardener?’
‘You don’t look like a gardener,’ Sofia said, changing the subject and turning her back to him as she expertly began making him a ham and cheese sandwich, which was exactly what she had had for her lunch. She hadn’t yet had dinner but somehow breaking bread with this dark, arrogant man sent a trickle of cold apprehension racing up and down her spine.
Rafael grunted, watching and appreciating the length of her limbs, the willowy suppleness of her body, the innate grace with which she carried herself.
‘You need to check her out,’ his godfather had said urgently. ‘I know I’m harbouring romantic notions of this young lady, but I’m no fool. I don’t know what she’s like, what sort of character she has. My dear boy, it would mean so much to me if you could check her out, but incognito. She must have no idea of the vast fortune that could be hers, as I wouldn’t want that to influence her responses.
‘To be blunt, I wouldn’t want her to edit her personality to appeal. I would hope for someone kind, considerate, smart…and if she’s not, well, a bridge to be crossed but not yet. Check her out—that’s number one. And then…here’s the sweetener to the deal if you take this on, my dear boy…my company. All my shares. You can move in and troubleshoot my stepson back into place. With my own flesh and blood in place, rightfully there, and you by her side at the helm, all my worries would end. You have said yourself that your own empire virtually runs itself. It’s time you found a new challenge.’
Rafael had no need for his godfather’s shares, although the leisure business would certainly be a healthy addition to his own vast portfolio. No, what motivated him went beyond anything tangible. The bottom line was that David had been there for him, mentor and friend, during all those long years when his own parents had jumped ship to do their own thing. His earliest memories of happiness didn’t involve his parents. They involved his godfather. Without him, his life would have lacked all structure, and God only knew where he would have ended up. David was the only human being Rafael actually loved and there was no request he would ever have turned down. The handover of shares, which would enable him to sort out the problem with Freddy, was icing on the cake.
‘Have you…um…?’ Sofia found that she was flustered and distracted by the play of muscle and sinew just visible beneath the old T-shirt and faded jeans as he strolled to sit at the kitchen table, a vast affair fashioned out of glass and chrome and hideously unsuitable for anyone with kids.
‘Have I…um…what?’
‘Been a gardener for long,’ Sofia said with strained politeness as her disobedient eyes fastened onto his lean, beautiful face, only to skitter away in alarm because she never stared at any man. It just wasn’t her thing. Least of all an over-the-top-good-looking one like this because, in her experience, good-looking always signalled trouble.
Just like that, he looked up, their eyes tangled and for a few seconds she found that she couldn’t breathe.
‘It’s a burgeoning career,’ Rafael said vaguely. ‘And, on the subject of people not looking the part, you look nothing like a nanny.’
Sofia stiffened, wondered whether this was going to be the start of the flirting game. He was going to be stationed in the annex by the pool. Coming as he did by word of mouth, she doubted that he