Page 28 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

“And you succeed.” She winked at him, and her heart soared higher when he climbed into the spa and took a seat opposite her. He reached for her foot, placing it between his legs, and began to rub her tired soles as the water swirled high around them.

She reached for her champagne and in that moment she had the sense that she had actually landed in heaven. Everything was just perfect. Seven months ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible that she could spend a night without pining for Steve. Certainly not that she could desire another man. And yet, here she was, happy. Happy again, without reference to her ex.

Even knowing it was temporary didn’t alter that.

“You’re very good at this,” she murmured, not sure if she meant the foot rub or the seduction.

“You’ve had a tough day,” he said with a shrug.

“So have you.”

His smile was a flicker. “I’m used to them.”

“You think I’m not?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t mean that.”

She arched a brow. “Good. Because that would be a pretty sexist thing to say…”

His laugh was rich. “I over-see twelve multi-billion pound companies. I have many days that are on a par with this. I meant only that in your role, it is probably not as dire as today often. Besides,” he said softly. “I want you completely relaxed before we go to bed.”

Desire slammed into her. His hands on her feet, the water swishing around them, the knowledge that he was naked; it was a potent combination.

She looked at him, and didn’t feel even a hint of shyness. How comfortable she was with Rafe was unusual, and yet she’d felt that for him since the first night they’d met. Almost as though they had known one another before. Yet, she knew very little about him, really, and suddenly, Ivy didn’t want that to be the case. “Did you go to school here?”

He nodded. “Undergraduate at Oxford. My second degree in the States.”

“Hence why you speak pretty flawless English.”

“My grandmother was English; she raised me. I heard as much English as I did Spanish.”

“Why did she raise you?”

“My parents were … busy.” He said it in a way that didn’t invite questions.

She asked, anyway, not wanting him to be the one to erect barriers between them – that was her job. “Yeah? Busy doing what?”

He smiled, but it was a tight smile. “Other stuff.”

“Such as?” She continued, withdrawing her foot and swimming over to him, in the tub that was now almost full. “And do we need to switch this off?”

“No, I’ve set the volume.”

“What?”

“You pre-program it. The taps shut off when the censors tell them to.”

“Holy Heck, that’s one high tech bath. Any chance of electrocution?”

He laughed. “No more than usual.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She lifted a hand to his chest, tracing circles with her fingertips. “You were saying?”

“Was I?”

“Your parents were in the same line of work as you?”

He expelled a breath, but when Ivy spun around, curling up between his legs, pressing her back to his chest, her head into the crook formed by his neck, he felt a connection that defied sense. “My mother inherited the family business. She comes from one of Spain’s wealthiest families. She loved being an heiress and adored being a wife, but she had no interest in running the businesses. My father had no money but a lot of smarts. They were a formidable team.”

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