A Touch of Notoriety. Carole Mortimer

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?’