Free Rafael's Suitable Bride by Cathy Williams Page B

know that I was a pretty impressive player in my time.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜Work happened.’
    â€˜Well, it’s never too late to loosen those chains,’ Cristina said gently.
    â€˜Chains?’
    â€˜The ones that are keeping you tied to your desk.’
    They had reached their destination. Was it her imaginationor were they beginning, against all odds, to bond? She could scarcely believe it. He was utterly out of her league, at least in terms of physical attraction and social savoir faire . She, like him, came from a privileged background, but there the similarity ended. And yet she could feel something tentative between them. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time, and it made her head spin, as if she was twelve again and on one of those terrifying rollercoaster rides she had gone on with her friends.
    Having no experience on which to fall back, Cristina contented herself with some pleasurable fantasies in which Rafael played the starring role.
    When he emerged, dressed, they had already had two children and a couple of dogs.
    She flushed guiltily, relieved that he couldn’t read her mind.
    They went to a Thai restaurant, and it was only when they were nearly through a bottle of wine that Rafael asked her casually how it was that she had never had a boyfriend.
    â€˜Of course I’ve had boyfriends!’ Cristina told him hotly. ‘I just never met anyone I wanted to settle down with.’
    â€˜And that would be because…?’
    â€˜I must be fussy,’ she responded airily, pleasantly heady after the wine.
    â€˜Oh, yes?’ Rafael leaned forward. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. She wasn’t flirting with him, but there was something undeniably sexy about her—they way her lips were parted, the way her heavy breasts bounced when she gesticulated, which she did a lot. He reached out, forked one of the prawns on her plate and placed it to her mouth.
    Cristina went a brighter shade of pink and nibbled the proffered delicacy. Such a small gesture, but it sent her pulses racing and made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.
    â€˜You’re blushing,’ he said, flirting outrageously but keeping his expression perfectly serious. ‘Why? Do I make you nervous?’
    â€˜A little, I suppose,’ she confessed. ‘Can I ask you something?’
    â€˜Anything you like.’ Rafael sat back, sipped his wine and watched her carefully over the rim of his glass.
    â€˜Are you flirting with me?’
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    â€˜Are you flirting with me?’
    Rafael, taken aback by the directness of the question, was stumped for words. ‘What if I were?’ He finally answered her question with one of his own.
    â€˜I would ask you why.’
    This was not a conversation Rafael had ever conducted with a woman before, but then he had to concede that this woman was not exactly like any woman he had ever dated before. Next she would be asking him if this, in fact, was a date, and if so could he please give her his definition of a date!
    â€˜Well?’ It took some courage, but Cristina was determined to find out where exactly she stood. There would be nothing more mortifying than to conduct herself in a manner that suggested she wanted more from him than he was prepared to give. He was a man of the world. The last thing he needed was to lend a helping hand only to find the subject of his noble attentions was becoming a nuisance.
    â€˜If it’s flirting when I tell you that you look sexy, then I’m flirting.’ The roundabout approach was, he was finding, strangely enjoyable. Something of a turn-on, in fact.
    â€˜Sexy? Me?’
    Rafael leant towards her, his face still serious. ‘I’m a connoisseur of women and you have a very delectable body, Cristina.’
    â€˜I’m…I’m not sure that I approve of…of having my body looked at…in that way…’ she stuttered,