Page 52 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

He nodded then began to move once more, past his car, towards the house. It wasn’t grand, from the outside. If anything, Ivy might have described it as rustic. And utterly charming. There were three steps that led to a large archway, made of bricks. Bougainvillea scrambled over it and as Ivy walked through, she was distracted, so a long branch of the plant ran across her arm, forming an inch-long scratch.

She rubbed at it distractedly, too focussed on the house to care, but Rafe saw. He stopped walking, taking her hand in his, and studying the mark. “There’s ointment inside.”

“I’m fine,” she smiled at him, and the smile seemed to fill her chest. “It’s just a scratch.”

He nodded, and again, she had the strangest sense that he was about to say something, to tell her something important, but then he began to walk, pushing towards the house. Instead of a key, there was a number pad on the front. He pressed several digits and a low beeping noise was emitted, then a click, and Rafe pushed the door inwards, standing just inside so he could hold it open for Ivy.

Once she crossed the threshold, she saw there was nothing rustic about the interior. While original features of the house had been preserved, state-of-the-art design had been layered over, leaving high-ceilings, huge glass windows that showed the view in every direction, a skylight over the kitchen, large white tiles and beautiful, architectural furniture.

As with everything with Rafe, it was perfect.

“Everything looks so Spanish!” She cooed, her delight obvious.

He laughed. “Spanish?”

“Yes! Just like I’ve imagined.”

“You’ve never been?”

“To Spain?” She pulled a face. “No. I’ve never been anywhere, really.”

“Why not?”

Her eyes ran across his face. She didn’t want to talk about Steve. Not here, not now. But his question required an explanation. “Steve didn’t like to fly,” she said with a shrug. “So we were limited…”

Rafe’s expression was grim, and eager to avoid his condemnation – for she saw how silly she’d been to let Steve’s phobias limit her own desires, she spoke quickly, rushing to a change of subject.

“I can see why you prefer living here. Not that your London place is in any slouch in the nice-department but this is… something else.”

He nodded, apparently happy to let the conversation move on. “I’m glad you approve.”

She did approve, but what did that matter? This was Rafe’s real life. A life to which she didn’t, and wouldn’t ever, belong. It was a life full of sunshine and Spanish heat, grapes and wine, sea and glamour. Why did she care? Why did it bother her to have peeled back the covers on this life, to have seen the way he lived, and to know she was excluded from it?

She didn’t want anything else from Rafe. That hadn’t changed. Though she couldn’t deny things between them had been shifting for weeks, that they’d become close in ways she hadn’t anticipated, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t walk away from him at the end of this, her head held high.

Because she wasn’t the same woman she’d been a year ago. Seven months ago. She wasn’t the same woman whose heart was fragile and foolish, open to anyone to break.

“Hungry?”

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she was or not. She followed him into the kitchen, surprised to see that the fridge was fully stocked. As though reading her mind, he explained, “My staff take care of it.”

“But they wouldn’t have known we were coming here?”

“My pilot lets them know.”

She nodded, taking a seat at the bench. “This is… you really do live in a whole other world to me, you know.”

He pulled a selection of deli meats from the fridge, some cheese and olives, caperberries and bread, then lifted a large wooden board from beneath the bench.

“I’m pretty sure there is only one world, and we are both on it.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching across for an olive, as he laid the selection o

f food onto the platter. It was salty and oily and plump – the perfect olive. She closed her eyes as the flavours filled her mouth, and when she opened them, he was staring right at her, desire unmistakable in his face.

Ivy blinked away, the heat between them making her inexplicably self-conscious. “Only one world,” she agreed, the words thick with heat. “But they look very different.”

His frown was infinitesimal. “In what way?”

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