A Touch of Notoriety

chapter THREE



‘COMFORTABLE?’

Beth turned to look at Raphael Cordoba as he sat beside the chauffeur in the front of the car driving them from the airport to the home in London she had once shared with her whole family and now shared only with Grace—had shared with Grace, because, once her sister was married to Cesar, Beth knew Grace would never live in that family home with her again.

Which, besides being sad, meant that the house was going to be far too big for Beth to live in on her own. Maybe she could advertise for someone to share it with her—

‘Gabriela?’

Beth ground her teeth together at Raphael’s deliberate use of the name she refused to recognise as being her own. And it had been deliberate, she was sure. ‘Yes, I’m very comfortable, thank you,’ she assured him with cool politeness. The same cool politeness that had existed between the two of them since Beth said her goodbyes to Grace and the Navarro family the previous evening before leaving for the airport with Raphael.

Beth frowned slightly as she remembered they had been tearful goodbyes on the part of Grace and Esther, stoic but warm on Carlos’s, and slightly disapproving on Cesar’s...

Although Beth had learnt there were definite advantages to those chauffeur-driven limousines and private jets she had previously pooh-poohed at! No long wait at the airport before boarding the flight for one thing, the limousine having driven them straight to the plane, and the aircraft taking off only minutes after she and Raphael had stepped aboard. There had also been a bedroom at the back of the plane, which Beth had definitely enjoyed. Not only had it meant she could sleep for much of the flight back, but it had also meant she’d had somewhere to escape to when she’d had enough of Raphael’s brooding silence. There hadn’t been the long wait beside the carousel for the baggage to arrive, either, once they landed in London, as the bags were instead loaded straight into the boot of another chauffeur-driven limousine waiting for them on the tarmac.

The English weather wasn’t too welcoming, though. Heavy rain was falling as they stepped out of the plane, causing Raphael to grimace with displeasure as he held an umbrella over Beth until she had descended the steps and climbed into the back of the limousine. He put down the umbrella and climbed into the passenger seat beside the chauffeur, drawing up a definite line of demarcation: he was the employee, and Beth was the younger sister of his employer.

He needn’t have bothered; Beth was all too aware of the fact that, as far as Raphael was concerned, she was just another part of his job.

And did that bother her?

Of course it didn’t, Beth told herself firmly. Raphael Cordoba might be dark and brooding, and handsome as sin, but he was also rude and arrogant, and totally disapproving of her, and the sooner he returned to Argentina, the better Beth would like it—

Was she protesting just a little too much?

There was no doubting that Raphael was older, more sophisticated, and just plain more dangerous than any of the men Beth had been attracted to in the past. And she didn’t usually find dark and brooding in the least interesting, either. Or rude and arrogant. And yet...

Much as she might want to deny it, Beth knew she had been aware of Raphael since the moment she first met him, and there had been a definite frisson of physical awareness when she and Raphael had been alone together in her bedroom two days ago. The sort of awareness that had sent a shiver down her spine, causing her nipples to tingle, and between her thighs to feel warm.

Sexual attraction.

She was sexually attracted to Raphael, in a way she never had been with any of the men she had actually been out on dates with.

Or maybe it was just that she saw his disapproval of her as a challenge?

Beth studied Raphael’s profile now as he talked softly with the chauffeur, a strong and chiselled profile: high cheekbones, a long and aristocratic nose, sculptured lips, and a strong square jaw that at the moment was in need of a shave. He was once again wearing one of those perfectly tailored three-piece suits—charcoal today, with a white silk shirt and meticulously knotted blue tie that matched the cerulean blue of his eyes, and yet those expensive trappings of sophistication did absolutely nothing to detract from the leashed power of his lean and muscled body, as if he were coiled and ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Which, no doubt, he was...

Beth felt that familiar shiver course down the length of her spine as she watched him beneath lowered lashes, her nipples tightening, the fit of her denims suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight against the swollen folds between her thighs.

Telling her all too clearly that it was Raphael himself she was attracted to, and not the challenge he represented!

‘Where are we going?’ Beth prompted in some alarm as she realised they were driving away from London rather than in the direction of her home.

Raphael turned to look at her calmly. ‘Your own house proved too difficult to make secure in the time I had available, so we are going to Cesar’s estate in Hampshire for a few days until your house has been made ready.’

Beth stared at him. ‘Ready for what?’

Raphael’s gaze became cool. ‘For you to live in, of course.’

‘It is ready for me to live in as far as I’m concerned.’ She gave a slightly dazed frown. ‘What exactly are you doing to the house? And how did you get in? Did Grace give you a key?’ she guessed heavily.

‘Some days ago.’ He nodded curtly. ‘Your sister is as concerned for your future welfare as the rest of your family are,’ he added as Beth looked hurt at Grace’s treachery.

‘What exactly are you doing to my house?’ she repeated softly.

‘Putting in an alarm system. Outside security cameras—Grace does not approve of cameras inside the house,’ he explained grimly. ‘But there will be alarms on all of the windows, and—’

‘Never mind.’ Beth waved her hand about weakly in protest at hearing any more of the changes being made to her home without her permission. ‘And the estate in Hampshire—are we talking about the same estate where Grace worked for Cesar, and said she felt like a prisoner the whole time she was there?’

‘We are, yes.’ Raphael gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘But again, if you wish it, the security cameras inside the house can be switched off.’

‘But not the sensors on the windows? Or the security codes to get in and out of the doors? Or the dozen or so security guards on the gates and patrolling the grounds?’

His jaw tightened. ‘No.’

Beth gave a shake of her head. ‘I think you had better turn this car around, after all—’

‘Calm yourself, Gabriela—’

‘I swear if you call me that name one more time...!’

‘Yes?’ Raphael arched a cool brow at her vehemence.

‘My name is Beth.’ She breathed deeply in an effort to remain calm, something that was proving more and more difficult to do around this man. ‘I suggest you use it in the future if you want me to answer you.’

He shrugged. ‘I did not ask a question but made a statement.’

Beth’s gaze narrowed to warning slits. ‘Just as I’m stating that I am not staying in some damned prison fortress in the middle of nowhere!’

Raphael held back a smile; if anything, Beth was even more beautiful when she was angry. That beautiful blond hair almost seemed to crackle with electricity. Her eyes glowed. Her creamy cheeks became flushed. The perfect bow of her lips full and slightly parted. And, if he was not mistaken, her nipples were pert and erect beneath the blue sweater she was wearing...

His gaze remained on those aroused breasts as he answered her.

‘I trust you will excuse me for correcting you—’

‘I don’t trust you at all. And I would rather excuse a cobra about to strike than I would you.’ Beth continued to glare at him in her frustration.

‘Have a care, Beth, or you will turn my head with all this flattery,’ Raphael drawled dryly, eliciting a soft chuckle from the chauffeur beside him.

Beth’s eyes glittered darkly. ‘I have yet to find anything about you I could be in the least flattering about! Now ask the driver—’

‘His name is Edward,’ he supplied dryly. ‘Edward, meet Miss Navarro.’

‘Beth Blake,’ she corrected firmly as she smiled at the chauffeur in the driving mirror.

‘Miss,’ he answered tactfully.

‘Would you mind very much turning the car around, Edward, and Raphael will give you the directions to my own home?’ She looked challengingly at Raphael even as she spoke to the chauffeur.

Maybe Raphael should have taken his own advice two days ago and put Beth Blake over his knee before spanking her curvaceous backside!

‘As I was saying,’ he continued coolly, ignoring Beth’s instruction and indicating that Edward should do so, too, ‘Cesar’s estate is not a fortress or a prison, neither is it in the middle of nowhere. There is a town—’

‘Ten point two kilometres away, I believe Cesar told Grace when she made a similar comment,’ she acknowledged dryly. ‘Which, when you’re used to living in a city as big and bustling as London, is the middle of nowhere. And how am I supposed to get to work every morning? I am not being driven to work in a chauffeur-driven limousine—no offence intended,’ she assured Edward distractedly.

‘None taken, miss,’ he assured her lightly.

‘What is wrong with being driven to work in the comfort of a limousine?’ Raphael enquired lightly.

Beth gave him an exasperated look. ‘I’m a junior assistant in the publicity department.’

‘And?’

‘And the top executives of the company don’t arrive at work in a chauffeur-driven limousine!’

He gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. ‘That is their loss, of course, but—’

‘Raphael, would you try, just for a moment, to put yourself back in the world of us lesser mortals,’ she cut in disgustedly, ‘instead of this ivory tower Cesar has inhabited for so long and which my sister is trying to drag him from kicking and screaming—and which you appear to have inhabited right alongside him—and realise that in the real world we don’t travel in private jets and limousines, but buses and the underground, with maybe the occasional taxi if we’re feeling flush.’

He gave a slow considering nod. ‘Yes, in those circumstances I can see how this mode of travel might prove a little embarrassing. Understanding your point of view does not mean that I agree with it,’ he added wryly as Beth began to smile triumphantly, instantly causing that smile to fade until it was replaced by a frown. ‘Cesar gave specific instructions as to your security—’

‘And if he told you to go and throw yourself off a bridge would you do that, too?’ Beth came back with false sweetness.

Raphael gave a derisive smile. ‘Not unless it involved saving you from drowning, no.’

‘Then surely there’s a little room for manoeuvre on this, too?’

His jaw tightened. ‘Manoeuvre, yes, stupidity, no. And it would be the height of stupidity,’ he continued firmly as Beth would have spoken, ‘for me to allow you to travel about London, or anywhere else, on public transport.’

‘You know—’ she grimaced ‘—the sooner you accept that you don’t have the right to “allow” me to do anything, then the sooner we’re going to be able to come to some sort of arrangement that suits the both of us.’

Raphael gave a confident smile. ‘Our present arrangement already suits me perfectly.’

Beth had never felt quite so much as if the unstoppable force had met the immovable object. Or felt so frustrated in regard to her own free will. ‘Are you always this stubborn?’

‘Is there not a saying “it takes one to know one”?’

She nodded. ‘Which doesn’t exactly answer my original question, now, does it?’

Raphael appeared to give that question several moments’ thought. ‘When it comes to security matters, yes, I am always this stubborn,’ he finally answered dismissively.

Beth was well aware of her own stubbornness, which didn’t mean, as the unstoppable force, that she didn’t know when to admit she had been defeated by that immovable object, which in this case happened to be Raphael. ‘Fine, I’ll go to the estate in Hampshire for a couple of days.’ She sighed wearily. ‘But I’ll need to go back to my house to pick up my work clothes first. After which I will allow myself to be driven to work tomorrow in this limousine. But, whatever ideas you might have to the contrary, I absolutely draw the line on you coming into my workplace with me. Deal?’ She looked at him challengingly.

‘I am not Cesar—’

‘Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of that! Deal?’ she prompted again determinedly.

Raphael eyed her steadily for several seconds before nodding tersely. ‘Deal.’ He turned away to give the driver Beth’s home address.

Even so, it felt like a hollow victory to Beth, and one that left her wondering if she had really won anything, or if Raphael hadn’t already made contingency plans if she were to make such a request...

* * *

‘Grace tells me there’s a gym in the east wing of the house?’

Raphael now turned from talking softly to Rodney, the head of Cesar’s security in England, having made the introductions when they arrived at the estate in Hampshire a few minutes ago after finding the other man waiting for them in the entrance hall of Cesar’s manor house.

Beth had been very quiet since they had driven away from her home earlier, after she had gone upstairs to collect the clothes she had said she needed and left Raphael to talk to the men busy working inside and outside the house. Unusually so, for her.

As he studied her now beneath the light given off by the overhead chandelier Raphael could see that her face was also pale, and her eyes appeared like dark bruises in that pallor. ‘Above the guest bedrooms to the right at the top of the staircase, yes...’ he confirmed softly.

‘Does it have a punch bag in it?’

He raised dark brows. ‘With my face painted on it?’

‘Preferably, yes. Or Cesar’s would do,’ she accepted dryly.

Raphael had no idea why it was that this woman made him want to laugh half of the time and strangle her the other half. On this occasion laughter won out, and he chuckled wryly as he turned to dismiss Rodney before answering Beth. ‘Not that I am aware of, no, but perhaps a photograph of one of us pinned onto it would do for now?’

‘I’m sure it would,’ she accepted with a frown.

Raphael frowned as he saw that Beth’s eyes, despite her attempts at humour, seemed to be overbright, and not with anger but with tears. ‘Are you about to cry?’

Beth almost laughed at the horror she detected in Raphael’s tone; like all big strong men, he probably had no idea how to deal with a woman’s tears. She almost laughed. Except, she really didn’t have anything to laugh about. Cry, yes. Laugh, no. She had believed her situation unbearable while in Argentina, but now they were back in England this nightmare she appeared to be stuck in just kept getting worse.

‘Did you even notice the mess those men are making of my home?’ She gave a pained wince just at the memory of the army of workmen both inside and outside what had once been her family home, but was now being turned into as much of a secure fortress as this manor house set within its equally secure walls and high gates.

Raphael looked regretful. ‘If you had waited a couple of days before going there, as I suggested, it would all have been put back as it was.’

She gave a shake of her head. ‘Somehow I doubt that.’

‘Beth—’

‘Raphael.’ She stared up at him steadily.

His mouth thinned. ‘I promise you, Beth, your home will be just as you left it by the time we return later in the week.’

‘Apart from the fact I can no longer get in my own front door without a security code. Or open the windows without the alarm going off. Or—’

‘You are starting to sound like Grace now!’

‘Possibly because I now feel exactly the same way that Grace does about Cesar’s high level of security!’ She was breathing hard in her agitation. ‘You should be careful, Raphael. If Grace has her way Cesar won’t be using that level of security in future, and then you could be out of a job!’

‘If so I will simply find another.’ He shrugged. ‘And I meant that your home will be just as it was in appearance once the work there has been finished. The men working there are experts at what they do.’

‘I’m sure they are,’ she acknowledged flatly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I really think I need to go upstairs and find the gym—before I decide not to wait and just punch you on the jaw right now for want of a better target!’

He raised dark brows. ‘I thought I was the target?’

She breathed in deeply. ‘No, at the moment that’s Cesar.’ She breathed out just as deeply. ‘And I need to work off some of this excess energy before I really do hit something. Or someone!’ she added grimly.

‘It is almost time for dinner...’

‘So it is.’ She smiled slightly. ‘And it’s just dawned on me that Cesar’s cook is currently in Argentina with him making arrangements for their wedding next month. And if you’re expecting me to cook dinner for you instead then you’re going to be out of luck. Grace is the cook in our family,’ she added with satisfaction as Raphael looked decidedly crestfallen by her announcement.

‘You can’t cook?’

‘Of course I can cook, I just don’t intend to do so,’ Beth corrected, starting to relax and once again enjoy herself. ‘How about you, Raphael? Can you cook?’

‘Steak and baked potato when I have to...’

‘Then this would appear to be one of the occasions when you have to.’ Beth nodded her satisfaction. ‘At least, until Kevin Maddox can organise Grace’s replacement.’ She had yet to meet Cesar’s English PA, but Grace had seemed to like him the previous month when he interviewed her for the job as Cesar’s cook/housekeeper.

‘And you will deign to make the salad?’

Her eyes glowed with humour. ‘Oh, I think I might agree to do that, yes.’

He gave a terse inclination of his head. ‘Then we will make dinner together later.’

Beth wasn’t sure that ‘togetherness’ with this particular man was something she wanted. Or was in the least wise, when she seemed to be becoming more and more physically aware of Raphael the more time they spent together...

She nodded. ‘In the meantime, I’ll go upstairs and choose my own bedroom from the rooms in the east wing, shall I?’ She turned and took the first step up the huge curved staircase before pausing to look back at Raphael over her shoulder. ‘If you would just arrange for my luggage to be delivered up to my room so that I can change before I go in search of the gym...’

Raphael’s jaw looked tense. ‘You were wrong two days ago, Beth.’

She raised her brows. ‘Wrong about what?’

‘You appear to be learning all too quickly how to behave as that “pampered poodle” you spoke of so disparagingly!’ He eyed her scathingly.

Beth’s breath caught in her throat, knowing that Raphael had meant to wound with his remark. And that he had succeeded. She didn’t want any part of being Gabriela Navarro. Not the name. Or to be thought of as that spoilt and pampered little-rich-girl Raphael had just referred to so scathingly.

Beth had sincerely hoped that once she returned to England she would be able to get some perspective back into her life—albeit with Raphael lurking somewhere in the background—but instead she hadn’t even been allowed to return to her own home, let alone the normality of her life.

She drew in a shaky breath before speaking. ‘That was very unkind of you.’

His mouth twisted. ‘I was not aware that you required kindness from me?’

‘Everyone prefers kindness to cruelty, Raphael.’

He breathed deeply. ‘Perhaps I am not feeling particularly kind.’

Beth frowned. ‘Because I asked for my bags to be brought upstairs?’

No, Raphael’s present mood had very little to do with Beth’s perfectly valid request, and more to do with the fact that he had just become aware of the fact that the two of them would be staying in this house alone for the next few days. Something that hadn’t occurred to him until just now.

Beth’s slightly bewildered expression at his unexpected aggression certainly wasn’t helping him to remain professionally aloof from this situation. Possibly because ‘professional’ was the last thing he felt whenever he was in this woman’s company. And, if Raphael was to do his job of protecting her properly, he needed to remain completely detached as well as professional.

He looked at her coolly. ‘I will arrange for your bags to be brought upstairs.’

Beth looked at him searchingly for several long seconds before nodding slowly, her eyes looking even darker in the pallor of her face. ‘Thank you.’

He raised dark brows. ‘No comment as to the fact that should have been my original answer?’

‘No.’

Raphael allowed himself a small smile. ‘Are you feeling quite well?’

A pained looked crossed Beth’s expressive face. ‘Not really. Will you excuse me?’ She turned sharply before running quickly up the stairs.

Raphael remained in the hallway, hands clenched at his sides as he continued to watch her as she reached the top of those stairs, before turning to the right and disappearing down the hallway in the direction of the guest bedrooms in the east wing. As if the devil himself were following at her heels...

Should Raphael follow her, and apologise—once again!—for appearing insensitive to her obvious distress, both at thoughts of being Gabriela Navarro and the sudden changes that were being asked—no, demanded!—of her because of it? Or would his apology only succeed in making this situation worse?

Raphael wasn’t sure their present situation—alone together and at constant loggerheads—could get any worse!

And yet he had made a promise to Cesar before leaving Buenos Aires, and to Esther and Carlos, who were both so obviously distraught at the thought of their daughter leaving them again so soon after they had found her.

A promise that he would protect Beth at all costs.

Raphael just hadn’t realised, when he had made that promise, that he might be asked to protect Beth from himself.