Awakening His Innocent Cinderella. Natalie Anderson

dragged him away. Grace turned shocked eyes on Rafe, her pretty skin now stained scarlet.

      ‘She thinks I’m...’

      She couldn’t bring herself to say it. And she was blushing again. Rafe threw his head back and laughed. She was stunned at Julia’s interpretation. That meant she was even more naive and innocent than he’d already suspected. In her skirt and floral shirt she’d looked sweetly gorgeous. In the killer white dress she looked both voluptuous and shy and it made for a mouth-watering combination. But he wanted to ease her embarrassment now. So he opted to tease.

      ‘A paid escort?’ He nodded. ‘I believe so. You were the one who answered the question.’

      ‘It’s this dress.’ She put her hand up to hide that glorious cleavage. ‘I told you it was indecent.’ She paused as a thought struck her and she blinked rapidly. ‘Why would they think you would require the services of a paid escort?’

      The compliment hidden in there was so unguarded it made it all the more touching. Something was seriously wrong with him. He could not be going crazy with lust for some random woman he’d found wandering in his garden...

      ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he answered idly. ‘You weren’t exactly keen on being my date. I had to pressure you to come.’

      And, yes, he’d meant her to catch that lame double entendre that Julia had already picked up on. He’d like nothing more than to make Grace come.

      She flushed even more beautifully. ‘Because I don’t know you. Anyway, you didn’t ask me because you wanted to date me. You wanted to pay me back for ruining your suit.’

      ‘Did I?’

      She stared up at him, her eyes melting. ‘Stop it. You’re an appalling flirt. It’s like you can’t help yourself.’

      Right now it seemed he couldn’t. ‘Who says I’m flirting?’

      Rafe watched Grace roll her eyes with outlandish expressiveness and then she glanced past him. ‘I’m hungry. Isn’t there any food?’

      ‘People are here to be seen, not to scoff.’

      ‘Heaven forbid they be seen munching.’ She looked about some more before a small pout of disappointment drew his attention to her lips. ‘I think I’ll have a drink after all.’

      He signalled a passing waiter and lifted a flute of champagne off the tray for her. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘One won’t hurt me.’

      More people came over—offering congratulations and conversation, soliciting his attention and seeking to satisfy their own curiosity. Grace was oddly quiet as he chatted, offering only a nod as he introduced her to them as his friend. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting how swiftly the champagne was disappearing from her glass. She was sipping to stop herself from speaking, he just knew it. And the sparkle in her eyes was growing brighter by the second. Turning abruptly, he excused them both from the company and walked her towards the open doorway for some fresh air.

      ‘They all want something from you.’ Grace drained the last drop from the crystal flute. ‘Honestly, they were all over you like some hideous disease. Every last one, sucking up.’

      He was the one wanting to suck up. He couldn’t take his eyes from her mouth and he really needed to get a grip. ‘Everybody wants something from me. Attention. Money,’ he said dryly. Everything always came back to money. And he was under no illusion that if he had none, those people wouldn’t come within fifty feet of him.

      ‘I don’t want either of those things,’ she said cheerfully.

      No, it seemed she might not. But maybe he could make her change her mind on the attention front.

      ‘Let’s go look at the lake. It must be fireworks time soon.’ She walked out the wide-flung doors but came to an abrupt halt on the patio. ‘Who’s that guy?’ she whispered loudly, nodding her head in the direction of a tall, grey-haired man icily glaring at Rafe from further along the marble patio.

      Rafe met the man’s stare for a second, then deliberately turned away. ‘No one important.’

      Maurice Butler would never again have any importance in his life.

      ‘Yeah, right.’ She smothered a laugh. ‘If looks could kill, you’d both be dead.’

      ‘He’s a business acquaintance,’ he lied.

      ‘Really?’ She shot him a look. ‘I don’t believe you.’

      ‘Look at the lanterns.’ He pointed in the opposite direction.

      He wanted to be alone with Grace, all his attention on her and her attention only on him.

      ‘But he’s coming over. He looks like he wants to talk to you.’

      ‘Well, I don’t wish to talk to him.’ Rafe firmly took her hand and walked her down to the lakefront.

      ‘It’s beautiful.’

      The lights were reflected in her eyes and flickered across her face. She was so pretty. Sinful whispers swirled in his head, all the things he’d do to her, with her, for her. All the things he probably shouldn’t.

      ‘You’re using me to avoid talking to anyone else,’ she noted as they walked to the water’s edge.

      ‘Yes. It’s working well.’

      ‘Why did you bother coming at all if you didn’t want to talk to them?’

      ‘To be seen.’

      ‘Because?’

      ‘Because I’m here and they can’t ignore that fact.’

      ‘You have history with these people? With that man?’

      He hesitated for a moment, but what did it matter if she knew? ‘That man you just asked about is my nephew. I heard he wanted to buy the villa. Unfortunately for him, I was the successful bidder.’

      ‘Your nephew?’ She turned around to stare again at the man still standing on the patio just outside the wide-open doors. He knew she was processing the vast age difference. Maurice was thirty-two years older than he.

      ‘You wanted to beat him more than you actually wanted the home?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing.

      ‘No, I wanted the villa.’ He turned to look out at the water so he didn’t have to see anyone from the family who’d made his life hell. ‘I always wanted the villa.’

      He didn’t know why he’d admitted that to her—he presented it to everyone as the requisite luxury Italian holiday home string to his property portfolio.

      ‘Why?’ she asked.

      ‘Childhood dream,’ he muttered dryly. Thing was, it was true. He’d wanted it all his life. But it seemed the joke was on him. Walking into that villa this afternoon, he’d only felt emptier than ever.

      ‘But you also enjoyed stealing it from under your nephew’s nose,’ she added shrewdly.

      Rafe smiled bitterly. He had, of course. Blocking Maurice’s interest in the villa had been a bonus point in the transaction.

      ‘You’re clearly not close.’

      ‘Clearly not.’ He straightened, determined to dismiss this conversation.

      The fact that the villa had come with a pretty nymph in the garden was the one highlight of the day. He wasn’t squandering the possibilities by getting bogged down in the past now. ‘I didn’t bring you along to have you pry into my personal life,’ he said lazily, slipping back into Lothario mode. ‘Entertain me another way.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘You’re one arrogant ass, you know that?’

      He did, actually. But he wasn’t used to his dates calling him on it—at least, not quite