Betrayed(25)

He nodded guardedly. “Within limits, but she overstepped the mark. Let’s say I have a problem with her.”

“You’re going to simply thrust her to one side?” Kat squeezed her eyes shut. He was handing her all the power she’d ever dreamed of. But did she really want it this way? She said carefully. “And how do you think it makes me feel?”

“It’s a wonderful opportunity.”

“For whom?”

“For Las Modas Ibéricas, for you, for us all.”

“Suppose I don’t want to kick someone while they’re down… and what about her team? I’ve never worked with them. They don’t know my quirks; I don’t know theirs. They’ll hate me for taking her place.”

“I know you’ll want to bring some of your people in. I expect it. You can run both shows. Delegate your other tasks and concentrate on design. A hundred production shops can make garments. Only you can design as you do. You represent the future.”

“And the rest of your team? What about them, suppose they don’t like working with me? How do I fit with what Isabelle was doing? What if my ideas clash with hers?”

“Don’t even think about Isabelle. You’ll be in charge; most of it will be down to you. A lot of variables need to considered, but it’s got to work, and damn soon as far as I’m concerned.

“And if I say no?”

He considered her for a moment then said, “I really need you to say yes.” He slung the cognac back in one gulp, poured another then plastered a smile across his face. “So?”

Kat curled her toes into the deep pile of the rug and considered the implications. She looked at his handsome features in the flickering glow for a while then replaced her shoes. “I think I shall go to bed now,” she said softly. “I enjoyed the meal, it was scrumptious. Thank you.”

“And that’s all.”

“What else are you expecting?”

“What about an answer.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s a little soon for that don’t you?”

“If your skills are put to real use, it’ll be so much better. You really could go to the top, you know.”

“Very flattering… and Isabelle Zapatero? How will you flatter her? How will you flatter me when you decide I’m no longer useful? That’s what you do best isn’t it. Move people; manipulate people; ruin people. Don’t you ever stop to think of the consequences of your actions? Lives are shattered when you snap your fingers.”

“It isn’t how you think.”

“No? Then how is it?”

He arched his fingers to his lips. “Isabelle,” he said carefully, “Was caught taking our designs to a competitor. We trusted her.”

Kat stared at him. “Wow!”

“We continually worked on new ideas, yet were always one step behind in the marketplace. She was too greedy. We paid her well but she wanted more. She almost put us out of business.”

“God! I didn’t …”

“And I really am sincere about your talent.” Rafael grinned suddenly. “It would be criminal to curb it. The more your name is on labels, the faster you’ll climb. The faster you climb, the faster we climb.”

“My name? Isn’t that flashy?”

“It’s good business.”

“But why push me forward?”

“New name, new start. Let the public see that we really mean business. We’re going to make you part of the new order.” He drew her to him.

She said, “So what will you expect from me?”

He put his arms around her. “I think we should forget business for a while.”

He felt strong and safe. In the background the refrigerator hummed in the kitchen, and the old, long case clock in the hall ticked hypnotically. It suddenly seemed slightly incongruous; the sound of the new intruding on the old like that, somehow it didn’t really gel… like Rafael and her.

She might be part of the new order but Rafael would always be part of this older order, no matter what he thought.





Chapter 8



The takeover was complete, her father happy, which meant she was happy too.

Kat drowsily smiled at the agreeable sensation of Rafael’s arm on her body as he slept. She had to admit she cared for him, yet if someone asked her to explain why, she couldn’t. It probably amounted to a collection of trivia, which by themselves would seem nothing, but when put together became him, his soul. A faint smile touched her lips. A grand theory if ever she had one.

She understood him and he understood her. Billy Mellor couldn’t have been more wrong.

She looked at the paintings on the wall, considered them one by one; studied folds of immaculate silk curtains, eventually turned to look at him. She inhaled his inviting man-smell to commit him to memory, touched the stubble on his jaw, didn’t want to wake him yet wanted to touch.

Looking and touching turned her on too much though. She didn’t want to be turned on by herself, and she closed her eyes to quench the sensation. He stirred. Satin bedclothes moved over her skin as he turned, an arm around her now, a single eye open, focusing, a crumpled smile.

“Hi!” he said sleepily. “You look good.”

He stretched, barely roused from sleep. His gruff, morning-voice trickled warmly to her belly; another thing she liked about him, his sexy voice. She wanted to tell him what he did to her, but not yet. She snuggled into his contour.

He said, “You feel good too!”

His lips brushed hers. She didn’t move. He was too gentle, not yet awake. She wanted him to be possessive, wanted his mouth on her body, his tongue on her, his hands caressing and exploring. She wanted his weight flattening her until she became breathless.

He yawned. “Do you always feel so good in a morning?”

Kat kissed the tip of his nose. “Do you always talk so much?”

She put her hands on his buttocks, and he shuddered. Kat allowed a private smile, still amazed at the power she had.

He became aroused and the fact made her aroused.

He said, gruff. “Kiss me.”

She did, and made it obvious what she wanted.

He became fully awake and rolled on top of her. She thrust her legs apart and he at once entered her. He filled her, a conduit of heat spreading deep into her core and up into her cranium.

Kat closed her eyes to designs, drawing, and complex blueprints, instead, saw sex.

She thought in that instant she perceived life clearly, and understood its mysteries. She wrapped her legs around him, drew him as deep into her, as she could. They were fierce together, as if time would end before they finished; hungry for sex, quick and thrust. No time for niceties, greedy for sex.

Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms. Rafael stoked her hair. He said, “I’m selfish, I don’t want to let go of you. You’re special and I’m going to do everything to make you want to stay.”

“How do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll find a way.” He shrugged. “I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re different. You’re vital, living. You give as you get. I gave you my soul and felt you gave me yours.”

She smiled.

He said, “Was I right?”

She pulled herself up and knelt across him. She kissed him on his mouth, his eyes and throat, moved down, kissed his belly. He became aroused again and wanted to take over, but she held him down, made him lie still. She put her hand down, opened her wet vagina with her fingers and with her other hand put his penis inside her. She started to slowly move against him, determined to attain the greatest sensation she could. This one was for her.

Afterward they showered together, but too exhausted to face the day, they went back to sleep.

Kat immersed herself in work. Days became weeks. From some inner well, she extracted touches she had not thought possible; perhaps because of Rafael, perhaps herself, whatever, she was pleased and he proud.

She became utterly absorbed in the project and her confidence expanded. The new lines were revamped, ideas changed. Time and again, they went over the way the inaugural presentation should be made. Francine had been drafted in to arrange and manage the show for them, but they wanted every detail to be correct.

Kat flew back to England for a short time, making sure that Finery & Frocks ran smoothly. The private showing in Valencia loomed, and Rafael wanted to use it as a springboard to show the fashion world what they could do. Buyers from some exclusive stores had been invited, and media, of course. Several eminent fashion accessory houses had been persuaded to add their unique adornments; shoes from Julian Prego, and handbags from Guise. Karen Carver, the new wonder-girl from Essex, had some delightful belts and jewellery to offer.

Kat still had loads of work left to do. Both the revised Las Modas Ibéricas lines and Italian Concept had to be immaculate. Rafael’s papá desperately wanted Las Modas Ibéricas to be recognized as a force in the fashion world once more, but Rafael wanted to introduce the lines slowly.