The Forbidden Touch of Sanguardo (13 page)

Even as he thought it he realised the shower had stopped and the bathroom door was opening. She emerged, her hair pinned up on her head and a cotton bathrobe wrapped around her. Even in such unromantic garb she took his breath away!

He went up to her, his expression warm, and kissed her cheek, cupping her elbows with his hands.

‘Thank you,’ he said, his eyes as warm as his voice.

She looked at him questioningly.

He released her. ‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘for getting through this evening as beautifully as you did. Thank you for behaving with grace and dignity—and kindness.’ He looked at her. ‘Kindness to Lucien. You saw instantly how unnerved he was, and you stepped in to help him through it.’

‘I was glad to,’ she said.

He nodded. Then took a breath. ‘And thank you, too, Celeste, for something even more.’ He paused, looked her in the eye. ‘Thank you for coping with Madeline Walters.’ He took another breath. ‘Although I knew she wasn’t going to be pleased with what I’ve done for Lucien—I’ll fill you in on the whole sorry saga later—I hope you will believe that I didn’t quite anticipate her showstopper.’

Celeste looked troubled. ‘I’m so sorry I enabled her to get in like that—’

‘Don’t be. If it hadn’t been you it would have been someone else. Madeline is unstoppable when she sets her mind to something.’

Celeste’s gaze faltered.

And if that something is you, Rafael, is she unstoppable then?

But she did not say it. Could not.

Rafael was shrugging off his tuxedo jacket, followed by his dress shirt. Celeste sat down in front of the vanity unit and busied herself letting down her hair and starting to brush it out. Her thoughts were troubled, uneasy.

Wrapping himself in a black silk knee-length bathrobe, Rafael came up to her.

‘Let me,’ he said fondly, and took the brush from her. With slow, sensuous strokes he started to brush the long length of her hair.

Her eyes met his in the mirror of the vanity unit. His glowed with a familiar fire.

‘You’re worried about Madeline, aren’t you?’ he said. His voice was careful.

Celeste swallowed. ‘Should I be?’ It was hard to ask, but she had to.

He stopped brushing. ‘No,’ he said. He resumed his brushing, then a moment later spoke again. His voice was steady—decisive. ‘Madeline is the past, Celeste. Yes, we were once an item, but we broke up some time ago, and that, I promise you, is that. Her only emotion when I ended it was anger.’

He paused, then went on. It was vital he make Celeste realise that Madeline was nothing to him now—nothing!

‘I see her from time to time in public,’ he went on. ‘We are civil to each other. But that is all. I know she’s had several liaisons since, and probably has one running now. I could not care less about that. I wish her neither ill nor well. I am completely indifferent to her.’

Celeste picked up her comb, then set it down again in a random gesture.

‘Do you think she feels the same indifference?’ she made herself ask. She tried to keep her voice neutral, as though she were asking a question about something entirely impersonal.

Rafael shrugged. ‘I don’t care, Celeste. I don’t care what Madeline feels or wants or doesn’t want. And right now...’ He set down the brush and reached for her hand, drawing her to her feet. ‘Right now the only thing I care about is taking you to bed.’

His voice was husky, his eyes washing over her, and the intimacy, the familiarity, sent a wave of warmth through her.

He kissed her. A kiss as tenderly arousing as it was sweetly sensuous. Meltingly, Celeste gave herself to it, gave herself to him, to everything he was—everything wonderful and wondrous and precious to her. Rafael!
Her
Rafael.

Her last conscious thought before bliss swept her away in his arms was,
Poor Madeline...poor, poor Madeline, to have lost him!

* * *

Celeste was sitting in a pool of sunlight at the desk in Rafael’s study. She was making notes and sketching, with Lucien’s sapphire-blue evening bag in front of her. Excitement filled her. This morning—the morning after the Lucien Fevre party—Rafael had talked with her. Asked her to contribute her ideas, based on her long experience in the fashion world, to the advertising and marketing campaign that was being prepared for Lucien’s relaunch.

She’d been delighted—thrilled. Now she was jotting down everything she could think of, and making little sketches, to bounce off Rafael when he got back later. Dimly she was aware of the apartment door opening. Rafael must have been able to get away early.

‘I’m in your study!’ she called out. ‘Stealing your printer paper to draw on!’

The office door, ajar, opened fully.

‘So,’ said a voice behind her, ‘when you said “just a guest” to me last night, what you really meant was, “just” Rafael’s current squeeze!’

Celeste whipped round. Madeline Walters, looking stunning in a formidably well-cut navy blue business suit, which radiated ‘power player’ with every centimetre of fabric, was standing in the doorway.

Celeste’s expression changed. ‘How did you get in?’ she asked blankly.

Madeline looked scornfully at her. ‘I’ve kept sets of keys for
all
Rafael’s properties, though I’ve never made use of any of them till now,’ she said. She shifted position. ‘So, let’s have a proper look at you.’

Dark, dramatically made-up eyes flicked up and down over Celeste, who stood there, recovering her composure. Whatever the hell was going on, she was going to stand her ground.

A slightly satisfied smile played on Madeline’s vivid red lips.

‘How gratifying,’ she said, ‘that Rafael consoles himself with women who are the antithesis of me! Even if it
does
mean he has to sleep with a stick insect!’

Celeste could hear the purr in her contralto voice and said nothing. Madeline wandered around the office, glancing around, and then down at the sketches Celeste had been making. She turned back to her. Eyebrows raised.

‘My, my—multiple talents! Not just arm candy—or just good in bed, as I assume you must be, because Rafe...’ the purr was back again ‘...is
so
very demanding in that respect!’ She glanced again at the sketches. ‘Are you going to run with my idea of white dresses to show off all the different colours of the bags?’

‘It’s a good idea,’ agreed Celeste, because it was, and not giving credit where credit was due would be petty.

‘Oh, I’m full of good ideas!’ snapped Madeline.

She wants to get a rise out of me,
thought Celeste.
She’s come to check me out—scout out the opposition.

Well, maybe it was time to provide some opposition...

‘Not always,’ she said, keeping her voice neutral.

Madeline’s eyebrows arched interrogatively. ‘Do you mean running off with Lucien Fevre’s company but not him? Ancient history.’

Celeste shook her head. ‘No,’ she said pleasantly. ‘The idea you’ve got that Rafael is available to you again.’

For an instant she knew her comment had hit home. Then Madeline laughed. Rich and full and throaty.

‘Rafael is ancient history, too,’ she said dismissively. She quirked an eyebrow. ‘I thought models like you were always
au fait
with all the celebrity news? Haven’t you seen that I’m busy with a senator who’s tipped to be the running mate of the next presidential candidate? Mind you...’

Once again Madeline’s voice changed, taking on that purring note, but edged with something underneath—something that sent a chill down Celeste’s veins just like the one she’d felt when she’d realised last night just who the auburn-haired woman was.

‘Between you and me, the venerable senator is a little too...venerable. He might make me the Second Lady in the USA one day, but he is, to put it frankly, too...
restrained...
for my tastes.’

She tilted her head, eyeing Celeste.

‘So maybe, yes, it would be fun to have one last session with Rafael—something hot to remember while I’m enduring the missionary position for the millionth time! Not like Rafael,’ she said, never taking her eyes off Celeste. ‘As you must know by now, Rafael is so very,
very...
enthusiastic when it comes to bedtime!’

Her deep-set eyes flashed as she saw Celeste’s reaction to her blatant jibe.

‘My God, you’ve coloured up!’

In an instant, her expression had changed. That flash came again in her eyes, but now it was loaded with a venom that made Celeste’s already frozen face freeze more.

‘Well, well, well...’ said Madeline, biting out each word. ‘
Now
I know what your appeal is! It’s not just that he wanted a skinny whey-faced blonde who doesn’t remind him of me. He wanted a nun, too!
Blushing
because I said the wicked word “bedtime”!’

She moved towards her and suddenly, Celeste felt Madeline’s hand snake around her neck and stroke down the length of her loose hair.

‘Such beautiful hair you’ve got,’ she said, ‘like silk...’

Her voice was a caress. Her touch soft.

Yet Celeste felt her skin crawl.

She stepped back. An instinctive movement of recoil.

‘Whatever the purpose of your visit, Ms Walters,’ she said, forcing herself to a composure she was far from feeling, ‘you had better leave now.’

‘My thoughts entirely.’

The deep, cold voice from the doorway made both heads turn. Rafael stepped into his study.

‘Get out, Madeline,’ he said.

He said it with an air of complete indifference, as if she were nothing more than a passing nuisance. Celeste saw her deep-set eyes flash with anger at such dismissal. Then a different expression filled them. She moved towards Rafael, who was standing motionless in the doorway, every line of his body showing tension.

‘Why, Rafe, darling, you’re looking dreadfully stressed out!’ Madeline advanced purringly. ‘Why don’t you let me give you a massage? You know,’ she said huskily, ‘just how...
relaxed...
I could always make you with a massage.’

She was baiting him. It was obvious to Celeste. And just as obvious was Rafael’s stone-faced lack of reaction. Madeline must have seen it, too, for she tilted her head of fiery auburn hair and found a new line of attack.

‘No? Then maybe your lovely blushing nun here would welcome it? She looks very tense to me.’ Her eyes moved across to Celeste, who stood as expressionless as if she were walking down a catwalk, then back to Rafael, equally blank-faced. ‘So, what do you say, hmm?’ she asked tauntingly. ‘You could always just sit back and watch if you’re too puritan to join us...’ She laughed mockingly.

Rafael only stepped back out of the doorway, holding the door open for her pointedly. Madeline’s eyes flashed fire again.

‘No wonder you’re stuck with Little Miss Pure here!’ she bit out. ‘Tell me, do you just sit chastely side by side, holding hands, and sigh at each other?’ Her face twisted. ‘God, Rafe, what a bore you are. To think I wasted time on you!’

‘Out, Madeline’ was all the response she got, in a tone that did not hide its note of impatience.

Celeste saw her snap, her temper flaring openly. Before she could stop her, the other woman had snatched up the blue evening bag from Rafael’s desk and was pushing past her to the door.

‘I’ll take a souvenir with me, I think!’ she exclaimed, and then, as she gained the large hallway, she halted and turned back. ‘In fact...’ She turned, and her eyes were gleaming with an expression of satisfaction. ‘I’ll even do you a favour—
and
your precious Lucien Fevre! I’ll take this bag with me tomorrow night to the state reception at the White House! That should be good enough publicity for you! I might even get the senator to buy me some more of them! I could make the damn things fashionable all across Washington, if you like! Is
that
sufficient atonement?’

Celeste’s eyes flew to Rafael. His stone-faced expression was gone.

‘Senator?’ His eyes pinioned Madeline.

She gave that laugh again, the satisfaction in her eyes blatant. ‘You
are
out of touch, aren’t you, Rafe? Too busy mooning over your pet nun! Yes,’ she said, preeningly, ‘Senator Roxburgh and I are most definitely an item now. And, since he’s
so
likely to get picked as running mate in the next presidential election, you could, if you ask me nicely, soon be on the Capitol Hill guest list. I’ll be the Second Lady in the land.’

She turned to go again, having shot her bow and saved her pride, Celeste could see. But Rafael’s voice stayed her.

‘Are you serious, Madeline?’ His voice was different.

She whirled round, animation in her face. She was delighted.

‘Oh, yes,’ she purred. ‘And the senator is so very,
very
devoted to me! Widowed, you know... It’s so sad. And you know how expensive political campaigning is over here in the States—I’m
so
keen to help him on that front! Once we’re married, of course!’

Rafael’s hand brushed aside her preening.

‘Then you’re quite mad,’ he said.

There was a bluntness in his voice that made Celeste stare at him. His attention was focussed only and entirely on Madeline.

‘You will never,’ he said to her, ‘get away with it.’ He took a step forward. There was an edge audible in his voice as he spoke. ‘Madeline, drop him now. While you can.’

She was looking at him. Her face was different now, Celeste could see.

‘You don’t
really
think,’ Madeline said slowly, ‘that anything
you
put out about me will look like
anything
other than thwarted jealousy and open malice? You’ll make a laughing stock of yourself!’

Rafael’s eyes speared her. ‘And you, Madeline, will get yourself crucified by the American press!’ His expression changed. ‘For God’s sake, get real! Do you
really
think you won’t get found out? If Roxburgh gets selected, the press will go through everything about you—absolutely and totally everything! And once you’re on TV and campaigning, memories will be jogged, I promise you! Someone, somewhere, will recognise you, make the connection—and then they will cash in with the biggest political sex scandal they’ve ever found!’