Betrayed(15)

She took her legs from his shoulders and he sat up. She said, “This is a terrible mistake, Rafael.”

“Sometimes an artistic force can release tremendous empathy in a person.” Rafael’s voice became thick with emotion. “I sense that force inside you. Don’t you?”

“A force inside me? Is that what you were feeling for?” Kat clutched her silk pants; avoided his eyes, carefully covered the moist petals of skin that had been brought to life by his magic. The force generated in her had nothing to do with art. The intoxicating urge had been managed fine until now. She had to regain control somehow.

She desperately dragged in a lungful of air. “I don’t believe I have the force. I don’t even know if this project is worth carrying forward. I think we should stop.”

She pulled her trousers back on.

“Then you’re a lost soul. You’re a fool, Katrina Bligh, a damn fool.”

Air stuck in her throat. The passion spilling from him threatened to overwhelm them. She wanted to reach out, to reassure him, to tell him that she still needed him. She could never allow it to happen though. Her voice was shaky. “A lost soul, because I have no flair for satisfying your sexual urge? Is that what you mean?”

He stood and strode to the door. “No. I mean lost if you don’t make full use of your artistic force. The talent you have with your body has never been in question.”





Chapter 5



Eduardo García put down the papers, a report on Finery & Frocks. His investigators had been busy. He smiled to himself, and leaned back, hands behind head. So Rafael had been telling the truth after all. The company was a good buy, in difficulty, but not because of the lines, their problems were self-inflicted.

James Julian Bligh a prat in urgent need of money because he gambled beyond his means, and drank himself to excess. The girl was the impetus behind the company, her designs apparently quite something.

Rafael had connections with the girl, so the project might be worth putting money into. He would call the bankers to see how much swilled around. A change of direction might not be such a bad thing after all.

He could see the headlines now, ‘Eminent Hotelier Slips Into Frocks’. No doubt it would cause a stir in the cutthroat world of fashion.

The most interesting part, though, was not her designs, but the new fabric she worked on. His people assured him it was still hush-hush, not yet perfect, but getting close. Apparently she worked in secret, but had not learned that throwing stuff into waste-bins was not the way to maintain secrecy.

His investigators had secured a rejected sample, and even he appreciated the uniqueness. He held the fabric up; brilliant, utterly distinctive, flawed at the moment, but once refined…

How many people knew? Did Rafael? Somehow he doubted it. Rafael wouldn’t be able to stop crowing if he did, and he hadn’t said a word.

He would leave instructions to have the bins cleaned each day, in case others found out too.

***

“You know nothing,” Kat yelled.

Rafael didn’t bother to reply because he was in the wrong. He walked away, so as not to make matters worse. She slammed the door behind. Jeez! He pulled his collar up and ran through heavy rain to his car.

He’d gone and spoiled things yet again. He’d stupidly tried to seduce her a week ago. Since then, they’d done nothing but fall out, mostly over nothing. She’d called him a malignant influence. He wasn’t, but he’d misread her body language, which meant he’d fouled up big time. Now she picked fault with everything.

Rafael gunned the engine and the Lamborghini leaped forward, shooting out of the gravel drive so stones flirted everywhere, his anger directed straight at himself for behaving like a silly teenager.

This time, she’d been affronted because he’d been crass enough to make comments on one of her new creations, when not finished. He realised he shouldn’t interfere, but he had an insane need to be with her. The new outfit had been an excuse.

Everything between them was spoiled.

He swung the powerful car onto the road and accelerated. The spring storm was bad. Rain hammered at the windshield and he flicked the wipers to maximum.

Had things been different it might have put an amusing twist on things, him watching her, watching him. It wasn’t amusing though. Something had long-since caused a shift in her behaviour and he didn’t know what. Everything about her had been odd, even the interview. Yet, nothing had been as odd as the way she’d left all those years ago. What the hell was going on?

The accountants still probed the books, but so far they looked legit, even their quirky way of doing things. Yet she appeared cagey, as if afraid of giving something away, or of them finding something? Did she really hate him so much she couldn’t stand being near him, and if so, why?

What did she cover?

Once they’d been mind-blowing together, yet now he couldn’t connect with her. Why was she so standoffish? He’d like to get inside her mind. Was she devious? Rafael frowned, hoped they weren’t setting up a fraud. Surely they weren’t.

Damn!

The stuff she turned out appeared good, some designs very sophisticated. The test runs had been first-class, turned out better than either of them hoped. It had taken a while for her to fathom out how to adapt her ideas to computer-aided-design and modern manufacturing techniques, and he’d started to get edgy, but she’d damn-well sorted it.

Rafael drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with agitation. He had to admit, her antagonism fuelled his urge to have her. He wanted to taste the fruit for old time’s sake. What had caused her to dump him all those years ago? What had he done?

With creations, she had the Midas touch, and Papá had already told him he’d made his mind up to go ahead with the takeover. Rafael considered Kat’s design range too unique to be handled in the usual way. He would set up a new production team, recruit the best seamstresses, and ensure quality control of the highest standard, before doubling the selling price of Italian Concept. They would only allow limited runs, because nothing ensured success like exclusivity.

That’s what Kat was, exclusive. He stared at the wet twisting road, not seeing, driving automatically.

How many nights had he lain awake after she’d left him all those years ago? He’d fantasised of her return; dreamed of endless hours in bed together. He’d pictured her naked body; slim, pale as alabaster, full of fire. In his imaginings he’d touched her, and stroked her cool skin. He’d waited and waited but there had been no return.

Now he didn’t have to wait. She was here, but he would never again know pleasure.

Rain gushed against the car windshield. Rafael swung through swathes of water into the parking lot outside the Castellvi Restaurant. He locked the car, pulled up his collar, dodged huge puddles in the parking lot, and ran into the village.

When they went ahead with the annexation, would he be able to arrange for her to be on his staff? They could be together day after day that way and eventually she might decide he was worth another try.

Hell, what was he thinking?

Kat was getting inside his skin. Nothing quenched his insane desire for her. He gritted his teeth. She drove him silly. He was too biased for this job, but Papá wouldn’t listen. The takeover was Rafael’s initiation rite, so he had to clear the air between him and Katrina. He’d do it the moment he got back.

He drew money from the cash dispenser, bought a newspaper and dashed to the nearest ironmongers for a couple of items he needed.

When he returned, Kat was still angry. Why did women make things complicated? Her obsessions were bottled and ready to burst. His heart dropped, but he made an effort to be cheerful, and said, “How’re things going? Okay?”

“Considering you’re an expert on my designs and what I do, I’d have thought you’d already know,” she said rigidly.

Rafael took off his wet jacket. “You know it isn’t like that,” he said over his shoulder. “I only said what I thought.”

“Well don’t. Women think differently than men.”

“Katrina…” Rafael hesitated. “You have a king-sized chip on your shoulder. For no reason at all, you’re full of rage.”

She ignored him.

He said, “Don’t let rage destroy you.”

“Will you leave me alone and let me get on?”

“If you’re not careful, it will you know. Be intense, sure, but harness it, channel it into your work. We made it plain from the beginning that we expected you to work within the spirit of the agreement. If you can’t, we shall have to rethink our position.”

“Just because I don’t agree with you, you have to put the pressure on.”

He sighed. “If it’s me you have a problem with, we’ll have to find a way around.”

Kat was head down over her sketches. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I’m lost again?”