Hot Nights with a Spaniard: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure / Spanish Aristocrat, Forced Bride / Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge. India GreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
She blinked. ‘Sorry?’
His mouth thinned. ‘You haven’t made a film in over ten months.’
‘So?’
‘So, as I pointed out yesterday, the world of acting is a fickle one.’ He shrugged. ‘Too long out of the limelight, and the industry, as well as the public, tends to forget you exist.’
‘Your point being?’
He frowned. ‘My point being, you need to get back to work!’
Cairo gave a humourless laugh. ‘As I told you yesterday, I really don’t see what business it is of yours—’
‘You can’t hide away for the rest of your life, Cairo,’ he pointed out.
Her eyes widened. ‘I’m not hiding—’
‘What else would you call it?’ he attacked her impatiently. ‘You’re staying in a villa miles from anywhere, and you wear sunglasses and a baseball cap to disguise your appearance when you do go out. I’d call that hiding, wouldn’t you, Cairo?’
‘No,’ she bit out. ‘What I would call it is taking a well-earned holiday after years of constantly working my—’ She stopped and drew in a controlling breath. ‘I can’t remember the last time I was able to just relax and lie in the sun.’
‘You’ll freckle, remember?’ he taunted.
‘I’ll risk it!’ she snapped. ‘And I really don’t see what any of this has to do with my not wanting to come to a party in Cannes with you this evening.’
‘There will be directors there. Producers, too. The people who will give you your next job, Cairo,’ Rafe explained patiently as she made no response.
‘I don’t need anyone to give me my next job, Rafe,’ she assured him.
He studied her carefully. ‘You already know what you’re going to work on next, don’t you?’
Cairo gave a mocking inclination of her head. ‘Yes, Rafe, I already know what I’m going to work on next.’
‘Which is?’
‘None of your business!’
‘Are the two of you arguing?’ Daisy asked from the kitchen doorway, her expression curious rather than concerned.
‘Of course not, poppet,’ Cairo hastened to reassure her. ‘Uncle Rafe and I were just—having a discussion about something unimportant.’ She shot Rafe a warning glance.
‘Oh.’ Daisy nodded. ‘Because Mummy and Daddy always kiss and make up when they have an argument.’
Cairo snorted at the thought of her and Rafe ever being able to ‘kiss and make up’. There was simply too much history between them for them ever to be able to do that!
A sentiment Rafe obviously agreed with as he answered the little girl. ‘As Aunty Cairo said, Daisy, we weren’t arguing,’ he said dryly. ‘So, who’s hungry?’ he added enticingly, Daisy’s shout of agreement completely overshadowing the fact that Cairo said nothing.
She was too irritated with Rafe to speak, that was why!
She had spent years being persuaded, cajoled and pushed by Lionel into taking one film role after another, usually for his production company, of course, and she wasn’t about to be railroaded by anyone else—least of all the arrogant Rafe Montero—into doing anything, or going anywhere, she didn’t want to go.
She certainly wasn’t going to allow Rafe to goad her into going to Cannes with him this evening!
But he seemed no more interested in pursuing the subject as they found a place to park in Grasse before walking through to the shops and restaurants. In fact—thankfully!—Rafe seemed decidedly distracted again, leaving Cairo to enjoy the aromas and atmosphere of the town whose main industry was its wonderful perfumes.
Rafe hadn’t been being paranoid earlier about the blue car and its driver …
He was pretty sure of it now, the little blue car having come out of a side road as Rafe drove down from the villa and out onto the main road. It had then stayed a two-car distance behind them on the drive to Grasse, and followed them into the same car park once they got into the town. Although the driver, definitely the same man as before, noticing Rafe’s narrow-eyed interest across the car park as he got out of the blue car, had quickly locked the doors before disappearing in the opposite direction to the one Rafe, Cairo and Daisy took.
Admittedly Rafe hadn’t seen the man since, but a sixth sense, a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, told him that the man was still around somewhere.
Was he just an avid movie fan who had maybe recognized Rafe when he arrived at the supermarket?
Or—worse!—a reporter?
Several people had given Rafe a second glance as the three of them strolled through the busy streets of Grasse, as if they thought they recognized him, only to look at Cairo and Daisy and decide they must be mistaken; Rafe Montero wasn’t married, let alone father to a six-year-old girl.
But the man in the blue car seemed more dogged than that, and he had obviously been waiting at the bottom of the access road in the hopes of being able to follow the next time Rafe left the villa.
Or Cairo did….
Rafe gave her a frowning glance. She was still wearing the baseball cap and dark sunglasses, but otherwise seemed relaxed, and was obviously enjoying herself as she and Daisy looked at scented candles as a present to take home to Margo.
Something Rafe doubted she would continue to be if the man following them should turn out to be a reporter hot on her trail!
‘Is everything all right, Rafe?’ Cairo queried once the three of them were seated at a shaded table in the square where they had decided to have lunch.
He raised dark brows. ‘Why shouldn’t it be?’
Cairo frowned. ‘You seem—preoccupied, that’s all.’
‘I get that way when I’m hungry,’ he dismissed, before pointedly turning his attention to reading the menu.
Cairo continued to look at him for several more seconds before looking down at her own menu; after all, she had no reason for complaint as long as Rafe continued to help keep Daisy entertained.
Besides, he was probably as worried about Margo as Cairo was.
She had spoken briefly to Jeff on the telephone this morning, her brother-in-law promising to call her later today once he had any news about Margo and the baby. Cairo’s mobile was turned on in her shoulder-bag for just that reason.
It was very pleasant sitting here in the sunshine, Cairo decided as she relaxed back in her chair once they had given their order to the waiter and Daisy and Rafe were busy discussing the merits of the beaches in the area, something they were both familiar with if the friendly argument that ensued was anything to go by.
Cairo watched the two of them from behind dark sunglasses, appreciating how good Rafe was with Daisy, talking to her as an adult rather than a child as he considered the merits of her suggestions, Daisy obviously equally enthralled with him.
Again Cairo asked herself why he had never married and had children of his own …
Rafe was thirty-seven now, at the very top of his profession, a successful director, as well as one of the most sought after—and sexy—actors in the world: the most sexy according to that American poll last year!
There had been plenty of women in Rafe’s life over the years, too, photographs of him with those beautiful women often appearing in the glossily expensive magazine that she occasionally read while waiting in her trailer to be called on set.
Yet he had never married, had remained one of the most elusively eligible bachelors in the world … whom Cairo knew