A Dangerous Taste Of Passion

Rafe, who had been examining a nautical map showing all the shoals and reefs present in the waters surrounding the island, looked up with a blank expression. ‘Qué?’

‘Laura Mathews,’ Steve prompted, coming further into the room. ‘Grant Mathews’s daughter.’ Steve regarded him enquiringly. ‘But I see you’re busy.’

Rafe met the man’s challenging gaze with a slight smile playing about his lips. ‘She is very persistent.’

‘She is.’ Steve shrugged. ‘What would you like me to tell her?’

Rafe shook his head. He didn’t feel like dealing with a possibly hysterical woman. ‘Tell her I’ve gone sailing,’ he said, throwing his pen down on the desk and getting to his feet.

Steve’s eyebrows rose. ‘But you don’t have a sailing vessel at present, Mr Oliveira. Your boat is still moored in Newport.’

‘She doesn’t know that,’ retorted Rafe, refusing to acknowledge why the prospect of looking at sailing craft suddenly filled him with such a feeling of anticipation. ‘As far as Ms Mathews is concerned, I will be away for the rest of the day.’

* * *

Lily was sitting at her desk, sorting through a pile of invoices to see which needed paying first, when she heard the outer door open. Ray was manning the agency this morning so she didn’t bother to leave her seat.

But, hearing Ray’s gruff voice interacting with one that was all too familiar, she felt a film of perspiration dampen her upper lip. A thread of moisture trickled down between her breasts and she sucked in a nervous breath. She had hoped it might be some time before Rafe Oliveira came into the agency again.

Shifting a little uncomfortably on her chair, she tried not to listen to their low-voiced exchange. She wasn’t interested, she told herself. The reasons for Oliveira being here had nothing to do with her.

Her thighs were sticking to the plastic seat, however, thanks to the cotton shorts she was wearing. She wanted to move, to conceal herself in the restroom but, when she tried getting up, the legs of her chair scraped noisily over the wooden floor.

She almost groaned aloud. Now Oliveira would know she was there, eavesdropping on their conversation. Spying on him! Gritting her teeth, she got up and switched on the radio, tuning in to a Southern States reggae station that successfully drowned out any other sound.

She wondered if Oliveira knew Cartagena Charters was in trouble. Obviously Ray had contacted him. That was why he’d come into the agency a week ago. But the notion that he might decide to invest or even become a partner in the firm was something else. It was looking more and more likely that the man did have some interest in the company.

‘Lily, have you got a minute?’

Before she could continue with that thought, Ray interrupted her. She had no choice now. She had to show herself.

She paused a moment, examining the open neckline of her shirt, checking that the hem wasn’t displaying any revealing wedges of skin. Then, resigning herself in anticipation of Rafe’s dark-eyed appraisal, she came round the screen to the front of the agency.

Rafe sensed her reluctance to speak to him again as soon as he saw her. She had her glorious mane of sun-streaked brown hair skewered in a precarious knot this morning and she was wearing a simple white shirt and coffee-coloured shorts.

Nothing glamorous, but she looked stunning even so. And probably didn’t realise it.

‘Yes?’ she said, deliberately not looking in Rafe’s direction. ‘Did you want something, Ray?’

‘Yeah.’ Myers glanced at his companion before continuing amiably. ‘You’ve met my assistant, Lily, haven’t you, Mr Oliveira?’

Rafe inclined his head as Lily was obliged to acknowledge him. ‘Por supuesto,’ he said smoothly. ‘It’s good to see you again…um… Lily.’ The hesitation over her name was deliberate, she was sure.

His slight yet unmistakable accent scraped across her nerves, like sandpaper over raw skin. His dark eyes were surveying her with their usual intentness, making her aware of her shortcomings, making her aware of herself.

She managed a polite smile and then, turning to her employer again, she arched an enquiring brow. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Hell, no!’ Ray was far too eager to dismiss that idea, in her opinion. ‘I want to show Mr Oliveira the layout of the marina, that’s all. To show him what a successful business we’ve got here. Could you delay your lunch break for another—oh, say an hour?’

‘Of course.’

Rafe thought there was a trace of doubt in her agreement. But an element of relief, too. What was troubling her? Had she been afraid her employer would ask her to show him around?

But no. It was obvious Myers was intent on trying to usher Rafe out of the door before Lily could say another word.

For his part, Rafe was less inclined to accommodate him. He would have much preferred to talk to Lily. She must know what was really going on with the agency. But she’d evidently not been eager to see him again and he could guess why.

That whole incident about her swimming after dark was obviously still niggling her. Yet all he had been concerned about was her safety.

But did she believe that?

Did he?

‘Okay.’ Ray grinned at Lily and she concluded he was optimistic about this development. ‘After you, Mr Oliveira. If we hustle, we may have time for a beer at Mac’s Bar.’

Rafe said nothing. He had no intention of making this a social occasion. But if it pleased Myers to pretend otherwise, then so be it. The guy would find out soon enough.

‘Adios, Lily,’ he said, resisting Myers’s attempt to hurry him. ‘Hasta luego!’ See you later!

Lily only nodded, but Rafe could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She had cat’s eyes, he thought, green and wary. Was part of the struggle she was having an effort not to let Myers down? He suspected she knew more about the business than she was saying.

When the door closed behind them, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been half afraid that Ray might ask her to accompany them. And how could she remain silent if he started boasting about the agency’s success again?

* * *

They were back in less than half an hour.

Lily, who had been expecting them to be at least an hour, felt a surge of curiosity as Rafe Oliveira followed Ray into the agency. Why had they come back? Why hadn’t they done as Ray had suggested and continued their conversation in Mac’s Bar?

Did Oliveira want to look at the agency’s financial statements? It seemed likely. Ray was a fool if he thought he could pull the proverbial wool over the other man’s eyes.

But, ‘Hey,’ Ray greeted her cheerfully enough, though she could tell from his expression that things hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned. ‘You can get off now,’ he added as Lily got to her feet, and she realised he wanted to discuss his business without a critical audience.

‘Okay.’

Lily’s eyes flickered over Rafe Oliveira before she scooted into the back to get her bag. Then, with a half-smile that she managed to offer to both of them, she pulled open the door and escaped into the hot humid air of midday.

She usually bought a sandwich and a cappuccino at the nearest coffee shop before finding a quiet spot in Palmetto Park to eat her lunch. With its tree-shaded paths and tropical gardens, the park was a favourite place for picnics.

It adjoined the harbour, and in centuries past had been the holding area for slaves bought by local wealthy landowners. Lily had always thought it was fitting that it had now been turned into an amenity everyone—rich or poor—could enjoy.

She’d walked a little away from the agency and was preparing to cross the street when a hand gripped her arm just above her elbow.

Her initial reaction wasn’t one of alarm. She’d lived on Orchid Cay all her life and there were few people among the locals she wasn’t familiar with. Yet almost immediately the strength and coolness of those hard fingers had her turning to see who had accosted her, and she wasn’t entirely surprised to see Rafe Oliveira’s dark face.

‘Hi,’ he said, releasing her almost at once. ‘Can we talk?’

Lily was tempted to say No and walk on, but that would have been rude. Besides, she was fairly sure Ray wouldn’t like her to offend the man.

‘It’s my lunch hour,’ she said unnecessarily. He had obviously heard what Ray had said earlier. ‘If this is to do with the business, I think you ought to speak to Mr Myers.’

Rafe expelled an exasperated breath. ‘This has nothing to do with Ray Myers,’ he declared shortly. ‘I know it is your lunch hour. I heard what was said. That was what I was about to ask you. Will you come and have lunch with me? There are lots of small eating establishments around here.’

Lily assumed a sudden interest in the strap of her bag. But that didn’t stop her pulse from racing like a jackhammer. Why was he doing this? Why in God’s name would he want to have lunch with her?

‘Why me?’ she asked at last, voicing her doubts. ‘Why not Ray?’

Good question! Rafe regarded her with considering eyes, wondering if he really knew the answer.

‘Perhaps I prefer to have lunch with a beautiful young woman,’ he said drily. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Well, I’m sure Mr Myers expected you to show more interest in the company,’ Lily declared stoically. ‘You hardly had time to assess the viability of the business before you left.’

Now Rafe’s dark brows arched expressively. ‘And that is your concern, sí? You are perhaps a partner in the company?’

Lily felt her face go red. ‘I work with Ray, that’s all.’ She paused. ‘But you must have had some reason for coming into the agency again.’

Rafe shrugged. ‘And if I did?’

Lily decided to go for broke. ‘Well, is it true? Have you decided to take a financial interest in Cartagena Charters?’

‘Have lunch with me and you may find out,’ said Rafe adroitly, watching the play of emotions that crossed her face.

Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. And then, as another thought occurred to her, ‘I bet this wasn’t Ray’s idea.’

‘I can understand why you would think that,’ he murmured softly. ‘You must know he is more interested in hiding the company’s failures than in presenting a balanced picture of its assets.’ He shrugged. ‘But you can tell him he will have to start telling the truth if he expects any further interest from me.’

‘Ray just exaggerates a little.’ Her tongue sought the roof of her mouth. ‘It hasn’t been an easy time for him.’

‘It has not been an easy time for anyone.’ Rafe stifled a curse, glancing about them in some exasperation. ‘And do you honestly expect me to continue this conversation here?’ He nodded across the street. ‘There is a man over there who has been watching me ever since I left the agency. What do you think he is doing, hmm? Propping up the sidewalk? Checking out the talent? I think not.’

Lily couldn’t help herself. Ignoring his groan of frustration, she turned to look. And, sure enough, there was a man standing across the street. But whether he was watching them was arguable. Besides, he had a camera hanging from his neck, just like any other tourist.

‘You think I’m paranoid, sí?’ Rafe taunted her. ‘You do not think that, after all this time, I might not recognise a paparazzo when I see one?’ He shook his head. ‘So, will you have lunch with me? If not, I—and my escort—will leave you alone.’

Lily’s lips parted as once again she gave the man, who did indeed appear to be watching them, another quick appraisal. It occurred to her that it might be herself that he was watching and her skin prickled as it had done that evening on the beach.

‘Who is he?’

‘I have no idea.’ Rafe shrugged. ‘He may be working for one of the tabloid newspapers, or perhaps he is DEA, or CIA. I do not care to find out.’

Lily stared at him. ‘But why would either the DEA or the CIA be interested in us?’

Rafe pulled a face. ‘Evidently you do not read the newspapers. Dios, my name was splashed across the headlines for weeks.’

Lily was stunned. She knew the DEA was the United States Drug Enforcement Agency. ‘Are you saying you were involved with drugs?’

‘Mierda! No!’ Rafe didn’t mince his words. ‘But I have no intention of defending myself here. What is your decision?’

Lily hesitated. What she knew she should do was thank him politely for his invitation and walk away.

Yet she couldn’t deny she was tempted.

She found herself saying, ‘All right. I will have lunch with you.’

If only to find out why he’d gone to see her father, she reassured herself staunchly. Not because just looking at him caused a funny feeling in her stomach.

‘Bien.’

Without any further hesitation, Rafe took her arm and steered her along the street.

However, Lily pulled away as soon as she was able and said tersely, ‘But I’d prefer not to eat in a restaurant. I usually have a sandwich in Palmetto Park.’

‘And you are suggesting I should do the same?’ he queried incredulously, and Lily caught her breath.

In khaki cargo pants and a black tee shirt, he looked lean and dark—and dangerous, she thought, her skin prickling again. Was she really thinking of getting involved with this man?

‘That’s up to you,’ she said now, half hoping he would refuse.

But he didn’t. ‘Very well,’ he agreed with a swift glance over his shoulder. ‘You had better tell me where we find this—picnic—lunch.’

Lily started to respond and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man he had spoken of earlier. He was standing, half hidden by the bole of a palm tree, just a dozen yards away.

‘We…we’re still being observed,’ she said abruptly, realising she hadn’t quite believed him before. ‘That man—the one you mentioned. He’s over there.’

Rafe knew a momentary twinge of impatience. It crossed his mind that he shouldn’t involve her in his affairs. She was too young, for one thing. And did he seriously want another female’s feelings on his conscience?

‘I did warn you,’ he said now, giving the man a passing glance. ‘So perhaps lunch is off, sí? We should just agree to go our own separate ways.’

Lily hesitated. ‘Um…not necessarily,’ she heard herself say with some amazement. Why, when she’d been having such doubts about her involvement with him, wasn’t she seizing this chance to get away?

But then, Oliveira had said he might tell her what was going on with Ray, she defended herself fiercely. Taking a breath, she added, ‘That is, if you’re still willing to join me in the park.’

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