Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure. Carole Mortimer

you been listening to a word I’ve said?’

      ‘Oh, I listened, Cairo,’ he snarled. ‘I just have great difficulty believing your claim of innocence!’

      Cairo swallowed hard. ‘You take delight in insulting me, don’t you, Rafe?’

      No, dammit, Rafe didn’t take any delight in talking about the other men Lionel Bond had claimed Cairo had been involved with during their marriage. As far as he was concerned, if the glitter to her marriage had worn off, if Cairo had been unhappy with Bond—and it now appeared that she had been—then she should have just got out, not taken a string of lovers to compensate for that unhappiness.

      Rafe’s mouth thinned. ‘Our being here isn’t about you or me, Cairo,’ he growled. ‘This is about a six-year-old little girl that we need to keep distracted so that Jeff can feel free to concentrate on Margo and the baby.’

      He was right. Cairo knew he was right. Rafe had just shaken her by talking of the things Lionel had said in anger when she’d told him she was leaving him, accusations he had later privately apologized for. Too late, of course, for the press had already gleefully printed the lies and were not inclined to print a retraction.

      It was also disconcerting to realize that Rafe’s affection for her niece was such that he was even willing to stay on here with Cairo when he would obviously rather not. Cairo had never thought of Rafe as being in the least paternal, and yet his obvious feelings for Daisy clearly disproved that….

      Again posing the question as to why Rafe had never married and had children of his own. Today had at least shown Cairo that he would make a wonderful father.

      It was his role as a faithful husband that would be in question!

      ‘You’re right,’ she admitted. ‘I’m willing to—to try and put our differences aside, if you are.’