A Prize Beyond Jewels

But they weren’t in a bed, that lush mouth wasn’t his for the taking, and when it came to Archangel he was the one in charge.

She shrugged dismissively. ‘In that case, I’m afraid the discussion will have to wait until tomorrow.’

Rafe took a step closer to her, only to find that the two men standing behind Nina Palitov took that same step forward, flanking her closely now as they both watched him between narrowed eyes.

‘Call off your watchdogs,’ he advised harshly.

She eyed him frowningly for several long seconds before slowly turning her head to look at the two men. ‘I’m sure Mr D’Angelo poses absolutely no threat to me,’ she assured them wryly before turning back to once again look challengingly at Rafe.

As if she believed his wealth and power also rendered him over-indulged and wimpish, a man who wouldn’t stand a chance against these two muscle-bound men if they were to take exception to something he said or did.

Admittedly, the two of them together might be pushing it a bit, but Rafe had no doubts that in a one-on-one fight his hours at the gym, and his training in several of the martial arts, would ensure he could best either one of these two men, whether they chose to fight dirty or fair—and their threatening poses indicated it would probably be the former.

He forced the tension from his shoulders as he gave a deliberately wolfish smile as his appreciative gaze swept slowly over Nina Palitov.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I posed absolutely no threat to you, Miss Palitov,’ he purred softly, his tone deliberately provocative.

Those beautiful moss-green eyes widened noticeably, a delicate blush creeping into her peaches-and-cream cheeks, and succeeding in making the endearing freckles on the bridge of her nose appear more prominent. At the same time her tongue flicked out nervously to moisten the lushness of those delectably plump lips. Lips that had no need for lip gloss to enhance their fullness or deliciously peach colour.

Those lips thinned now, as if Nina Palitov was well aware that Rafe was playing with her, and she didn’t appreciate it.

‘Would eleven o’clock be convenient to you, Mr D’Angelo?’ she bit out huskily.

‘I’ll make sure that it is,’ he drawled softly.

Nina was very aware that somewhere during the course of this exchange Raphael D’Angelo had taken control of the conversation—and her? His air of lazy confidence and power implied that he preferred always to be in control.

Even when he was in bed with a woman?

Nina felt the colour warm her cheeks for a second time in as many minutes as she realised that Raphael D’Angelo was responsible for bringing those totally inappropriate thoughts into her head.

Why were they so inappropriate?

She was twenty-four years old, with a slender figure, and the way men looked at her told her she wasn’t unattractive. And Raphael D’Angelo was dangerously, overwhelmingly handsome in a swarthily Latin way that she realised made her nerve-endings sizzle. They were both over twenty-one, so why shouldn’t she indulge in a little light flirtation with him?

Because it wasn’t something she was accustomed to doing, came the instant, and sad, reply. Her father was very protective of her, claustrophobically so at times, and it was a little difficult to enjoy a flirtation with an attractive man with two bodyguards always standing at her back. Especially when those same two bodyguards would no doubt report that behaviour back to her father if necessary.

Besides, she might have only just met him for the first time, but it was long enough to know that Raphael D’Angelo really was too dangerous a man for Nina to practise her relatively inexperienced flirtation skills on.

She knew his reputation, of course; even she had heard the New York gossip about this particular D’Angelo brother, enough to know that Raphael D’Angelo’s relationships with women were brief and numerous, and that there was no such thing as a light flirtation where this particular man was concerned.

‘Do that.’ Nina nodded abruptly, her defensive hackles rising.

Those golden eyes narrowed to steely slits. ‘I believe, as it seems we will be required to spend a certain amount of time together over the next few weeks, that you will find me to be much more amenable to your needs if our relationship is one based on mutual respect.’

Nina blinked. ‘It’s been my experience that respect is earned rather than a given.’

His jaw tightened. ‘Meaning?’

Nina kept her expression deliberately blank. ‘I don’t believe there was any hidden meaning to my comment, Mr D’Angelo, merely a statement of fact.’

Rafe doubted that very much.

Damn, but this woman was irritating. Cool, detached—and damned irritating!

She was also beautiful, in an exotically unusual way; a man could drown in those deep moss-green eyes, become lost in caressing the smooth softness of her skin, and as for those lush and kissable lips? Rafe had no idea what her breasts were like, of course, hidden as they were beneath that bulky black sweatshirt, but her hips and thighs were slender, her legs so long they seemed to go on for ever. As for that abundance of long and curling silkily soft hair, Rafe couldn’t ever remember seeing hair of quite that fiery colour before, natural golden and russet highlights visible amongst the red as her sunlit hair surrounded her face like a halo.

Yes, Nina Palitov was all of those things: irritating, beautiful, and desirable—and completely out of any man’s reach, if the two heavies standing guard behind her were any indication. And they so obviously were; both men were still eyeing him suspiciously.

She was also, most tellingly of all, the daughter of Dmitri Palitov, the powerful billionaire who took the term reclusive to a whole new level!

She nodded now. ‘Obviously I would like the gallery’s security to be part of our conversation.’

Rafe looked at her through narrowed lids. ‘Archangel’s security is my concern, Miss Palitov, not yours.’

She gave a shrug. ‘I suggest you read clause seven of the contract your brother Michael signed with my father, Mr D’Angelo. I believe you will find that particular clause states that I have the final say in all security provided for the gallery during the showing of my father’s unique jewellery collection.’

What on earth?

Michael had mentioned that Palitov intended to supply his own security for the collection, but at no time had he even suggested that included all of the gallery’s security.

Having arrived in New York only the day before, Rafe hadn’t yet had time to look in any detail at the contract Archangel had signed with Dmitri Palitov. He had trusted Michael to have dealt with it with his usual ruthless efficiency.

But if what Nina Palitov claimed was true, and Rafe had no reason to believe that it wasn’t, then he needed to have a little chat with his big brother.

Admittedly the exhibition of the Palitov jewellery was a coup for Archangel, it would be a coup for any gallery, when the much-coveted collection had never been shown in public before, but that didn’t mean they had to allow the Palitov family to just walk in here and take over the whole damned place.

Nina had to hold back a smile as she easily read the frustration in Raphael D’Angelo’s expression, inwardly knowing she felt a certain sense of satisfaction in having managed to pierce the confidence of this arrogant man. Raphael D’Angelo was so obviously a man used to issuing orders and having them obeyed without question, and she could see his discomfort now in having been so totally wrong-footed.

And no doubt he would have something to say to his older brother, when next the two men spoke, regarding the concessions Michael D’Angelo had been required to make in order to be able to exhibit her father’s jewellery collection.

Nina perfectly understood her father’s caution; he had collected the unique and priceless jewellery over many years, and as such it was completely irreplaceable.

‘Do you intend trying to change the terms of that contract? If so, perhaps we should call a halt to bringing in any more display cases until after you’ve spoken with my father?’

‘I don’t believe I mentioned changing the terms of the contract, Miss Palitov,’ Raphael D’Angelo bit out harshly.

‘Nina,’ she invited softly.

‘Rafe,’ he countered, golden eyes glittering angrily.

Rafe.

Yes, the shortened version, the rakish version, of this man’s name suited him far more than the more formal Raphael.

‘Nor do I react well to threats, Nina,’ he drawled softly.

‘I believe you will find I made a statement rather than a threat, Rafe,’ she replied just as ultra-politely. ‘As I also believe you will find that the contract between my father and your brother is completely binding on both sides.’

Nina had been present on the day Michael D’Angelo had met with her father at his Manhattan apartment, both men also having their lawyers present in order to check the details of the contract before it was signed by both of them. Her father never left anything to chance, and the safety of his beloved jewellery collection came second only to his protection of Nina.

‘If you have any reservations or doubts, then I suggest it might be preferable if you take them up with your brother before speaking to my father,’ she added challengingly.

She had no idea what it was about Raphael, or rather Rafe, D’Angelo that made her bristle so defensively. So uncharacteristically. That arrogant confidence perhaps? Or maybe it was the fact that he was just too dangerously handsome for his own—and any woman’s—good? Whatever the reason, Nina found herself wanting to challenge him in a way she never had any other man.

Rafe had more than ‘reservations’ where Nina Palitov was concerned. Where his attraction to her was concerned.

But he certainly didn’t doubt her claim regarding the contract and the security of her father’s collection. He knew from the steadiness of that unflinching moss-green gaze that Nina Palitov was telling him nothing but the truth about the contract Michael—ergo, Archangel—had signed with her father. Something else Michael hadn’t warned him about, and which Rafe intended taking up with his big brother at his earliest convenience.

He nodded abruptly. ‘Very well, I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you to view the gallery’s full security tomorrow.’

‘Today would be more convenient.’

Rafe looked down at her through narrowed lids, easily seeing the challenge in those unblinking green eyes. ‘Very well, later today,’ he ground out tautly.

‘Good.’ She gave another terse nod. ‘I’ll see you in your office on the third floor at eleven o’clock.’ She turned away dismissively, gathering up the wild abundance of her hair and pushing it back under her baseball cap as she walked over to rejoin her workmen.

The two bodyguards shot Rafe a warning glance before following hot on Nina Palitov’s heels.

A totally unnecessary warning, as far as Rafe was concerned.

He had absolutely no interest in deepening his acquaintance with one Miss Nina Palitov. She was beautiful, yes, and those lips definitely begged to be explored in deeper, more sensuous detail, but the presence of the bodyguards said that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, and her dismissive attitude towards Rafe wasn’t in the least encouraging either.

No, Miss Nina Palitov was not a woman Rafe had any intention of pursuing on a personal basis.

CHAPTER TWO

A DECISION RAFE had serious reason to question when his assistant, Bridget, showed Nina Palitov into his office two hours later!

Rafe had been extremely busy over those two hours, having no intention of being caught wrong-footed again where this young woman was concerned.

His telephone conversation with Michael hadn’t been particularly helpful, his brother showing no interest in the fact that Nina Palitov was aged in her twenties rather than middle-aged, as Rafe had assumed she would be. Michael had simply repeated that it was Rafe’s duty to keep Miss Palitov sweet.

The Internet had proved a little more helpful regarding Nina Palitov, revealing that she had been born to Dmitri and Anna Palitov when her mother was thirty and her father in his mid-fifties, which now made Nina twenty-four. It also stated that Anna had died five years after Nina was born, but gave no cause for her premature death.

It also listed the schools Nina had attended, after which she had gone on to Stanford University, attaining a degree in art and design, before taking up a position in her father’s extensive business empire.

None of which changed the impact the flesh and blood Nina Palitov had on Rafe when she walked into his office at eleven o’clock.

Somewhere during the course of her morning’s work she had removed the bulky black sweatshirt, revealing a close-fitting white T-shirt beneath. The tightness of the material across her breasts also revealed that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath that T-shirt. Her breasts were small and pert, and tipped with darker nipples—the same peach colour as her lips?—as they pressed noticeably against that clinging white material, her abdomen silkily slender as the T-shirt finished just short of her low-rise denims.

She had dispensed with the baseball cap again, that over-abundance of fiery red hair a wild cascade onto the narrowness of her shoulders and down the slender length of her spine. A wild and fiery cascade that now made Rafe’s fingers itch to touch it.

And the rising, hardening of Rafe’s shaft told him his body had decided, completely in contradiction of his earlier decision to stay away from this young woman, that it also liked what it saw.

‘Mr D’Angelo?’ Nina prompted as he made no effort to get up and greet her but instead remained seated behind the black marble desk placed in front of the windows across the spacious room.

He had removed his jacket and put it on a hanger some time during the morning, his shoulder-length hair an ebony sheen against the white of his silk shirt. As she had suspected earlier, the broadness of his shoulders, muscled width of his chest, and the tautness of his abdomen owed absolutely nothing to the perfect tailoring of his designer label suit.

Nina deliberately looked away from all that blatant maleness to take in the rest of the spaciously elegant office. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up two of the walls of the corner office, cream silk wallpaper adorned the other two, along with several filled bookcases and a bar, with a comfortable seating area in front of the second wall of windows.

All totally in keeping with the luxurious elegance associated with the world-famous Archangel galleries and auction houses. That reputation and the expensive opulence of this gallery were no doubt the reason her father had chosen Archangel as the venue to exhibit his collection.

Even so, Nina knew that her father would not appreciate the lack of manners Raphael D’Angelo was currently exhibiting towards his only daughter.

‘Is this an inconvenient time for you, after all?’ she questioned coolly as she turned back to look across the marble desk at him.

‘Not at all,’ he drawled as he finally stood up to turn away and take his jacket from the hanger and shrug it back on over his wide shoulders before facing her fully, dark brows raised over mocking gold eyes. ‘Did you decide to dispense with the bodyguards?’

Nina steadily returned that mocking gaze. ‘They’re standing just on the other side of that door.’ She nodded towards the closed door behind her.

Raphael D’Angelo grinned as he leant back against the front of his black marble desk, arms folded across the width of that muscled chest, every inch of him crying out hot, dangerous male, beware.

‘Out of consideration for the fact that I pose absolutely no threat to you?’

Out of consideration for the fact that Nina had told Rich and Andy that that was where they were going to wait for her. They hadn’t particularly liked it, but Nina had been adamant. Alone in Raphael D’Angelo’s office, very aware of his predatory maleness, and that wicked glint once again visible in those golden eyes, she wasn’t so sure of her decision.

Rafe D’Angelo was a dangerously attractive man who even Nina knew had the reputation of being something of a rake when it came to women. An outgoing love-’em-and-leave-’em type of man, in fact, and as such he was completely out of Nina’s own limited experience with men.

Which, she knew, was the main reason for her brusqueness towards him earlier this morning; she simply had no previous experience of dealing with men as powerfully attractive as Raphael D’Angelo. With any men at all, other than her father and bodyguards, if the truth be told.

Her father had become something of a recluse after her mother died, at the same time as he had become obsessively protective of Nina. That protection, from men like Rich and Andy, meant Nina had only been out on a few dates these past few years. Always with men her father had first approved of, and who had passed the stringent security checks made on them before Nina could so much as accept an invitation from them to even go out for a pizza.

Rafe D’Angelo, charming on the outside but with a steely and determined inner core, didn’t seem like a man who would give a damn about whether he passed security checks or not, if he should decide he was interested in a woman.

Not that Nina thought that he ever would be interested in her; she very much doubted she was beautiful or sophisticated enough to arouse the interest of a man as physically attractive and sought after as she knew Rafe D’Angelo to be. A man who could have any woman he wanted, and usually did.

But Nina knew instinctively, even from her brief acquaintance with him, that Rafe D’Angelo wouldn’t give a damn about whether or not he had her father’s or anyone else’s approval, or be bothered by the fact that Rich and Andy were standing on the other side of his office door, if he should feel the inclination to kiss her—

What on earth was wrong with her?

Anyone would think that she wanted Rafe D’Angelo to find her attractive. To kiss her, even.

Which was ridiculous. She was only at the Archangel gallery in order to oversee the installation and security of her father’s jewellery collection, nothing more. The fact that she was so totally aware of everything about Rafe D’Angelo—the silkiness of his overlong dark hair, that predatory glint in those golden eyes, the hard contours of that sculptured and ruggedly handsome face, the muscled strength of his body—was irrelevant, when she had no intention of allowing her attraction to him to go any further. When her father’s protection of her wouldn’t allow that attraction to go any further.

‘I’ve made arrangements for you to go down to the basement and view our security at twelve o’clock,’ Rafe D’Angelo informed her briskly now, the expression in those golden eyes guarded. ‘I trust that time is convenient for you?’

‘Perfectly, thank you.’ Nina nodded coolly. ‘You’re also aware, once the collection is in place, that there will be two men from my father’s own security detail in the east gallery guarding the collection at all times?’

‘So I believe.’ He nodded tersely.

Her brows rose at his tone. ‘You don’t approve?’

‘It isn’t a question of whether or not I approve,’ Rafe rasped. ‘But I find it a tad insulting that your father should feel it necessary, if you really want to know,’ he added with obvious impatience.

She shrugged. ‘I doubt my father suspects that you, or any of your employees, intend to steal the collection.’

‘How reassuring!’

Nina thought they had gone as far as they could on that particular subject; there was no way her father would back off on security for his precious jewellery collection, whether Rafe D’Angelo felt insulted or otherwise. ‘So, what was it you wished to discuss with me, Mr D’Angelo?’ she prompted lightly.

‘I thought we had agreed it would be Rafe and Nina?’ he reminded dryly. ‘Mr D’Angelo makes me sound like my stern older brother.’ He grimaced.

Nina raised auburn brows. ‘That would be the Michael D’Angelo who visited my father some weeks ago?’

‘You were able to recognise him from my description, hmm?’ Rafe drawled ruefully.

Nina shrugged narrow shoulders. ‘I found him to be polite, if a little...austere.’

That golden gaze narrowed. ‘You’ve actually met my brother Michael?’

Her eyes widened at the sharpness of his tone. ‘I was present when he and my father signed the contracts for the exhibition, yes.’ She nodded.

What the hell?

Rafe had spoken to Michael just an hour ago, a conversation in which his brother hadn’t acknowledged having actually met Nina Palitov. Admittedly Rafe hadn’t actually asked him if he had, but Michael certainly hadn’t mentioned having met her, either. Not earlier, or when the two of them had spoken on the subject at Gabe’s wedding; a conversation in which Michael also hadn’t bothered to contradict Rafe when he had made the assumption that Nina Palitov was middle-aged.

‘I saw the beautiful photographs, in the Sunday newspapers, of your younger brother’s—Gabriel, is it?—wedding on Saturday. The three of you are very alike.’

Rafe had been studying the tips of his highly polished black shoes, but he now looked up at Nina Palitov, his eyes narrowing as he saw how the sun, shining in through the window behind him once again picked out those gold highlights in that glorious red hair, her eyes a soft moss-green against her creamy soft skin, and as for her lips...

Rafe cursed softly under his breath as he straightened before moving to sit back behind his desk, his already semi-hard erection having given an acknowledging throb in response to his looking appreciatively at Nina Palitov’s lushly parted lips.

A totally unacceptable reaction as far as Rafe’s intellect was concerned—he had always liked a lack of complication in those tall leggy blondes he was usually attracted to. They spent a few weeks of enjoying each other, mainly in bed, and with no expectations on either side. Nina Palitov, who she was, who her father was, made an attraction to her as complicated as hell.

Unfortunately his once again rapidly hardening manhood still seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the subject.

Rafe chose to ignore that physical reaction as he now looked across the width of his desk at Nina Palitov between narrowed lids. ‘Yes, we are,’ he bit out dismissively. ‘And it was a lovely wedding. As lovely weddings go,’ he added with a dismissive lack of interest.

Nina smiled at Rafe D’Angelo’s obvious aversion to both weddings and marriage. ‘I’m sure it isn’t catching, like the measles or chickenpox!’

He gave a hard smile. ‘I’m immune if it is!’

‘Lucky you,’ Nina came back lightly. ‘Is that all you wished to discuss with me?’

Rafe D’Angelo blinked thick dark lashes, as if he had briefly forgotten that he was the one who had asked for this meeting, that emotion quickly masked as he gave a shrug. ‘Not quite. Why don’t you sit down for a few minutes?’ he invited lightly, indicating the chair across from him, waiting until Nina was seated before continuing. ‘Your father’s security aside, I thought we should decide exactly what your role is going to be at Archangel for the period of the exhibition.’

Nina shrugged slender shoulders. ‘As I’ve already stated, you will find that was already decided in the contract signed several weeks ago by my father, and your brother.’

‘I’ve had a chance to read the contract in more detail now.’ He nodded. ‘And I really can’t believe that you want to spend all of your time here for the next two weeks.’

‘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.