Modern Romance Books September Books 5-8. Annie West

and would be eating dinner with Rafael when she was back at the house a bit later.

      ‘Tell me what you thought of the History Room,’ David was saying excitedly, fussing and bustling and pouring her another cup of tea.

      ‘I loved it.’ Sofia smiled. ‘I think it’s very inspirational to have photos of all the hotels and all the work that went into them framed for your employees to see.’

      ‘Rafael’s idea, don’t you know.’

      ‘Was it?’ She leaned forward with interest. Every word uttered about Rafael was of interest to her. She had gleaned so many titbits over time—had gone through old photo albums, taking her time, with Rafael sitting next to her, amused by her fascination, telling David that lengthy chats about youthful nonsense wasn’t of interest to man nor beast. She had almost no photos of herself.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ David was saying. ‘Years ago. He was busy trying to get his own house in order after his parents were killed but still had time to think about me when I was redesigning the headquarters when I bought over the building next door. Sort of chap he is, but I expect you’ve reached that conclusion yourself.’

      ‘Conclusion?’

      ‘I’ve seen you two together, my dear.’ He sat and gazed longingly at the plate of morsels and sighed with resignation when she wagged a finger at him, warning him off eating more than the two he had already had.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘The way you are together. The way you interact.’ He looked at her with satisfaction. He waved one hand, brushing off some distant point in the past he no longer considered relevant. ‘I know that as marriages went this was perhaps not the sort you had ever envisaged for yourself, my dear girl, but I sense that what started out as an arrangement may well have taken wings.’

      Sofia was enjoying this, a guilty sort of enjoyment, because every word was music to her ears. If David had noticed a change in the relationship she and Rafael shared, then surely there was something there?

      ‘What do you mean?’ she prompted, and David shot her a sly, all-knowing look from under his bushy eyebrows.

      ‘Never seen him like this before,’ he confessed. ‘Not with any of those women he’s dated in the past. Sure, you’re married, but we both know that that was not a real marriage, and yet now...you’re both somehow different around one another.’

      Sofia could agree with that verdict. The truth was that there was a physical familiarity between them that neither of them ever bothered to conceal. Intimate, passing touches that were very different from the obvious displays of affection they had made sure to demonstrate for the public at the very beginning.

      ‘You know,’ David said thoughtfully, ‘I can’t even remember Rafael being like this with his first wife.’

      From a long way away, Sofia was aware that her temperature was dropping, that she was getting as cold as a block of ice. She could almost feel her vital organs slowing down as she wrestled to make sense of what had just been said.

      David was bustling again, the way he did, lifting the lid of the teapot, looking at the dainty bell on the table as though debating whether to summon ‘the old dragon’, as he fondly referred to his live-in nurse.

      ‘Yes...first wife...’

      ‘Gemma. Must have told you about her?’

      Sofia’s head was spinning. Suddenly hearing about a wife she’d known nothing about was something she didn’t want to come from her father’s lips. It felt as though she had stumbled on a stash of secret love letters, buried deep, stored where they were destined never to be found.

      ‘Gemma...’

      As a real wife, this was something she would already have known about, but a real wife she wasn’t—even though she had been lulled into thinking that somehow she had turned into one.

      She had to go. Had to think and clear her head. She leapt to her feet and for a few seconds stared in silence at a startled David, while she tried to think of a suitable excuse for flying out like a bat out of hell.

      ‘I’ve—I’ve suddenly remembered,’ she stammered lamely. ‘I have an appointment...with...with the dentist!’

      ‘You have?’

      ‘The cakes have reminded me! A filling needs seeing to before it becomes...er...’

       What was the next step after a filling anyway? Wasn’t a filling the last thing that happened after a toothache?

      ‘Painful.’ David looked concerned, which immediately made her feel guilty.

      ‘I’m really sorry, Dad.’

      They both stared at one another at that slip of the tongue.

      ‘David.’

      ‘You can call me Dad,’ he returned gruffly. ‘And shoo! Call me when you’re next coming over.’

      She didn’t go directly back to Rafael’s house. He wouldn’t have been back at any rate. Instead, head in a daze, she trekked through London, soaking up an atmosphere she had very quickly taken for granted. Everyone was in a hurry. The pavements were packed: shoppers...people hurrying out of offices because it had gone six...tourists drifting without a care in the world, getting in the way...

      She’d changed over the months. It wasn’t just the clothes, the trappings of great wealth. It was her. Something deep inside her had changed. She had become confident in a way she’d never been and it wasn’t just because she could afford stuff. It was because Rafael had made her so. He had allowed her to be herself and had encouraged her to shed the defensiveness that had once been part and parcel of her personality.

      He had made her feel secure.

      What a joke.

      He knew her inside out and she had kidded herself into thinking that she knew him as well, even if he couldn’t see it, even if his stubborn pride prevented him from accepting it.

      She didn’t know him at all and that felt like a crushing blow. She wandered in and out of shops before heading back to his place a little after eight.

      He was already there when she quietly let herself in. He’d obviously been waiting for her to show up because he was in the hall before she had time to sling her jacket over the banister.

      ‘I’ve been calling,’ was the first thing he said, moving towards her.

      ‘Have you?’ Sofia dodged past him and headed straight into the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t looked at my phone at all.’ She heard a tell-tale hitch in her voice and cautioned herself against giving in to self-pity. So she was here, stripped bare of all her illusions, and she only had herself to blame. He’d never promised her more than he could deliver and if she’d hoped for more then that was her fault.

      Love had been a handicap, making her question less, demand less and accept more.

      ‘David said that you had some kind of emergency appointment with the dentist?’

      ‘I haven’t been to the dentist, Rafael.’ She spun round on her heels and looked at him, arms folded, eyes cool.

      Rafael stared back, hesitant.

      What was going on here? Astute as he was at reading situations, he was finding it difficult to get a grip. As a general rule, he had no time for any sort of hysterical behaviour. He didn’t like confrontations or arguments, preferring to walk away from histrionics, and this was shaping up to be all of the above mentioned. Judging from her expression, at least.

      ‘Then where were you?’

      ‘Out. Walking around.’

       ‘Out? Walking around?’

      ‘Thinking.’

      Rafael remained silent, a dark flush delineating