A Prize Beyond Jewels

‘You can’t?’ Nina mused.

‘No, I can’t,’ he repeated hardly. ‘There’s nothing more to do here now that the display cases have been delivered and put in place. I congratulate you on your work, by the way,’ he seemed to add grudgingly. ‘The display cases are exquisite.’

‘Thank you,’ she accepted shyly.

Nina had worked on making the display cases for almost four months now, since her father had first proposed the idea of exhibiting his jewellery collection in one of the New York galleries, taking several weeks and consultations with her father to decide on a combination of smooth pewter and bevelled glass, so as not to detract from the beauty of the jewels themselves. Each display case had its own intricate lock and security code, a code known only to Nina and her father. ‘They will look even more impressive once the jewellery is inside them.’

‘I’m sure.’ Rafe D’Angelo nodded abruptly. ‘The exhibition doesn’t open until Saturday; surely it isn’t going to take you more than a day or so to organise the display?’

‘It’s a very large collection.’

‘Even so...’

Nina eyed him teasingly. ‘If I didn’t know better, Rafe, I would think that you were trying to get rid of me for at least three of those four days?’

And she would be right in thinking that, Rafe acknowledged with rising impatience. Damn it, he had the whole of Archangel to run, not just the Palitov Exhibition, and he didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to cater to the whims and demands of the Palitov family. ‘Not at all,’ he dismissed smoothly.

‘I spoke to my father on the telephone earlier, and he wishes me to extend his compliments to you, and invite you to his home for dinner this evening, if that’s convenient?’ the youngest member of the Palitov family invited formally.

The frown deepened on Rafe’s brow at the invitation, knowing that Dmitri Palitov was as socially elusive as he was reclusive, but he now appeared to be inviting Rafe to go to his home for dinner this evening. Understandably so, perhaps, considering Rafe was now the D’Angelo brother in charge of the New York gallery the other man was entrusting his beloved jewellery collection to.

Rafe accepted all of that, he would just prefer not to become any more involved with the Palitov family than he already was, with Nina Palitov in particular. He especially didn’t want the watchful Dmitri Palitov to witness Rafe’s noticeably physical reaction to the man’s daughter.

‘Rafe?’

He scowled, his mouth firming. ‘I have a previous engagement this evening, I’m afraid.’ Thank heavens!

‘I see.’ Nina Palitov looked more than a little surprised at his refusal.

And no doubt that surprise was due to the fact that not too many people, if they were privileged enough to receive an invitation of any kind from the powerful Dmitri Palitov, would ever think of refusing it. As Rafe knew on a professional level he shouldn’t refuse this dinner invitation either, but rather reorganise his date with the actress Jennifer Nichols for another evening instead. No doubt that was what Michael would expect him to do, but, as Rafe was feeling far from pleased with Michael at the moment, he really didn’t give a damn what his big brother did or didn’t think!

Nina knew that her father, for all that he had made the dinner invitation a request, would still be far from pleased that Rafe D’Angelo had refused that invitation.

At the same time as she, personally, couldn’t help but admire Rafe for doing so. She loved her father dearly, but that didn’t prevent her from being fully aware of the fact that his power made him far too accustomed to having his own way, to exerting his will on others, and expecting them to ask ‘how high’ when he said jump. Rafe D’Angelo obviously wasn’t one of those people.

She nodded. ‘My father suggested, if that should be the case, that you choose another evening convenient to yourself?’

‘Let’s see.’ He made a point of opening and checking the large diary on his desk. ‘Tomorrow evening seems to be free at the moment?’

‘If that should change you can let me know tomorrow.’ Nina nodded, still amused rather than concerned by Rafe’s determination not to be dictated to by her father.

He raised dark brows. ‘You still plan on coming in to the gallery every day?’

‘My father expects it.’

Rafe D’Angelo relaxed back against his high-backed black leather chair as he looked at her through narrowed lids. ‘And do you always do what your father expects?’

Nina stiffened at the taunting tone in his voice. ‘It causes him less distress if I do, so yes,’ she confirmed abruptly.

‘Distress?’ He quirked one dark and mocking brow.

‘Yes.’ Nina had no intention of elaborating on that explanation.

Her father’s reasons for being so protective of her were none of Rafe D’Angelo’s business. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. It was what it was, and Nina accepted it as such. If she occasionally chafed against her father’s need for that protection, then that was her own affair, and not Rafe D’Angelo’s.

His golden, predatory gaze now raked over her with a deliberate, and mercilessly male, assessment, causing Nina’s nipples to swell and firm as that gaze finally settled on the pertness of her breasts as they pressed snugly against her T-shirt. Nina drew her breath in softly as the cotton material acted as a mild abrasive against her bared flesh, deepening that arousal, at the same time as she felt a hot gush of dampness between her thighs.

Her body didn’t seem to care that Rafe D’Angelo had deliberately set out to cause this response in her, that he was no doubt amusing himself at her expense as the ache in her nipples became an unbearable torture, and between her thighs swelled, became even more moist, as if in readiness for the stroke, the entry, of this man’s touch.

But Nina cared. Her father’s years of protection might have made her totally inadequate when it came to dealing with men as experienced as Rafe D’Angelo, but she wasn’t about to let herself be the cause of any man’s amusement, least of all the arrogant and mocking Rafe D’Angelo.

She stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll inform my father that you’ve accepted his dinner invitation for tomorrow evening,’ she bit out abruptly.

Rafe raised his gaze reluctantly from enjoying the pertness of Nina Palitov’s breasts, part of that enjoyment having been knowing, by the sudden tautness and swelling of her nipples, that she was far from immune to his appreciative gaze.

But one look at Nina’s face, seeing the pained accusation in those moss-green eyes, the creamy pallor of her cheeks, and the defensive angle of her little pointed chin, and he felt like a complete heel for having behaved so badly. He was angry with his own unexpected physical response to this woman, with Michael for putting him in this position in the first place, even a little with Dmitri Palitov for the same reason, but that didn’t give him the right to take that anger out on Nina.

Rafe stood up to move round to the side of his desk, the two of them now standing only inches apart. ‘Will you be joining us for dinner tomorrow evening?’ he prompted softly.

She looked up at him warily. ‘I believe my father will expect me to be there to act as his hostess, yes.’

His brows rose. ‘You don’t live with your father?’

‘Not quite.’ Nina smiled slightly as she thought of her apartment. It was located in the same building that housed her father’s penthouse apartment, a building that he also owned, and over which he had complete control of all security. Not the complete independence Nina would wish for, but it was better than she had inwardly expected after returning from Stanford.

Rafe D’Angelo eyed her quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’

She gave a shake of her head; her father didn’t discuss their living arrangements with anyone, and consequently some of that need for secrecy had rubbed off on her. ‘It means I will be at my father’s apartment for dinner tomorrow evening.’

‘But you aren’t about to tell me where you live?’ Rafe D’Angelo guessed ruefully.

‘No.’

‘Not even if I were to offer to call for you and drive you to your father’s apartment?’

‘No,’ she refused huskily. ‘And I know my father intends to send one of his cars to collect you. He wanted me to confirm that your apartment is still on Fifth Avenue?’

Rafe felt a stirring of unease; Dmitri Palitov seemed to know far too much about him for comfort—far more than Rafe knew about the other man or his beautiful daughter.

‘It is,’ he confirmed slowly. ‘Thank him for me, but I would prefer to drive myself.’ Having his own transport meant that Rafe could leave when he’d had enough. He also bridled at the thought of being organised by the arrogant Dmitri Palitov!

Nina Palitov frowned at his refusal. ‘I know my father would prefer to have one of his cars collect you.’

‘And I would prefer to drive myself,’ Rafe repeated unrelentingly.

‘I very much doubt you know where he lives.’

‘I doubt many people do,’ he came back knowingly.

‘No.’

He nodded briskly. ‘Perhaps you would like to leave the address with my secretary some time tomorrow? After you’ve spoken to your father again, of course.’

She chewed on her bottom lip, instantly drawing Rafe’s attention to those pouting, slightly reddened lips, and in turn to those captivating moss-green eyes. He realised his mistake as he felt as if he were drowning in those smoky-green depths.

Just as he was aware the rest of him was being pulled, as if by a magnet, towards her, as his head slowly lowered—

‘I should go and check security now,’ Nina rasped abruptly even as she stepped back and away from him. ‘I’ll pass your message on to my father.’

‘Fine.’ Rafe straightened abruptly, inwardly cursing the obviously increasing attraction he felt towards Nina Palitov, and sincerely hoping his date this evening with Jennifer would put that attraction out of his mind—and appease his aching body! ‘Do you want me to come down with you to view security in the basement?’

Nina gave a rueful smile at the obvious lack of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘I believe that I can find my own way, thank you.’

Rafe eyed her irritably. ‘I was being polite.’

‘I noticed,’ she drawled.

Rafe nodded abruptly before striding across to open the office door for her, a little disconcerted at instantly finding himself the focus of two pairs of wraparound sunglasses, the two bodyguards—Rich and Andy?— standing directly outside the door. ‘I assure you, Miss Palitov has come to no harm while in my office,’ he drawled mockingly.

There wasn’t so much as an answering smile in either of those two grimly set faces, neither man sparing Rafe a second glance as Nina stepped out into the hallway. ‘Good day to you, Mr D’Angelo,’ she murmured before walking off towards the lift, the two men falling into step behind her.

Which in no way hindered Rafe of the view of Nina Palitov’s heart-shaped backside in those tight-fitting denims. A view his once-again throbbing body enjoyed to the full.

He was in trouble—serious trouble!—Rafe acknowledged with a low groan, if just looking at the perfect curve of Nina’s bottom in a pair of tight-fitting denims could succeed in making his shaft swell and ache!

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.