A Prize Beyond Jewels (6 page)

It was easier. Not only that, Nina knew it was the right thing to do. Except she wanted to accept. This attraction she felt for Rafe made her want to rebel against the limitations her father had imposed on her life.

‘And what are your reasons for asking, Rafe?’ she asked cautiously. ‘Are you asking me out to dinner because you like me, and want to spend time with me? Or are you asking me out to dinner because you’re annoyed with my father, because of his warning earlier, and you just want to annoy him back?’

‘That isn’t very flattering, Nina. To you or to me,’ Rafe drawled huskily.

She shrugged. ‘Not if the latter is true, no.’

Rafe eyed her thoughtfully, not sure if he felt more irritated by Nina’s suspicions regarding his dinner invitation, or by the reality of the life she must have led to make her draw those conclusions in the first place. Either way, he had no intention of backing off. ‘It isn’t,’ he bit out economically. ‘So, is your answer to be yes or no, Nina?’

The indecision in those beautiful moss-green eyes made Rafe want to put further pressure on her, to goad or seduce her, whichever worked, into accepting his dinner invitation. But he held back from doing either of those things. It had to be Nina’s decision; he had meant it when he told her earlier that he considered one dominating man in her life telling her what to do as being more than enough for any woman.

And so he remained silent, inwardly willing Nina to accept his dinner invitation, at the same time as he questioned himself as to when it had become so important to him that she did.

Maybe when her beauty had rendered him breathless when he’d first arrived this evening? Or as he’d watched and listened to her over dinner? Or perhaps when he had made love with her just now? Or maybe even before any of that? Possibly when he had first seen Nina in the gallery yesterday, and then spoken to her in the privacy of his office later that morning?

Whatever the reason—or when it had happened—his dinner invitation certainly had nothing to do with the irritation he felt at Dmitri Palitov’s warning. If anything, being warned off by a woman’s father—not that Rafe could ever remember meeting the father of any of the women he had been involved with in the past!—would normally have been enough to cause Rafe to retreat as far as possible in the opposite direction. Not because he would have been in the least concerned by that threat, but because he really didn’t do complicated where women were concerned, and having a woman’s father warn him off was definitely a complication.

Rafe had a feeling that this unexpected attraction to Nina Palitov was going to complicate the hell out of his life.

Nina drew in a shaking breath, knowing that her answer to Rafe’s invitation should be no—and not because of the reason Rafe had just given. Oh, no doubt her father wouldn’t exactly be pleased if she were to accept Rafe D’Angelo’s dinner invitation, but it was a displeasure her father would have to deal with for once. After the two of them had their talk tomorrow he would know that she wasn’t too thrilled to learn that he had warned Rafe off in the first place.

No, the reason Nina knew she should refuse Rafe’s invitation had nothing to do with her father, and everything to do with her not being sure it was a good idea to allow herself to become any more attracted to Rafe than she already was. If she spent a whole evening alone with him she had no idea if she would be able to resist him at the end of the evening.

She wasn’t a complete innocent, having believed herself in love a couple of times while she was at Stanford, both times with fellow students, one during her second year at university, the other one during her final year.

It hadn’t taken her long, however, to realise she wasn’t really in love with either man, possibly because she had found them both less than exciting physically. So much so that she had wondered what all the fuss was about. Nor had she had any particular interest in repeating the experience once she had returned to New York.

Her response to Rafe just minutes ago, to his kisses and caresses, had been nothing like either of those earlier experiences. She had been breathless with arousal, hadn’t wanted him to stop touching and kissing her, would have been perfectly happy if Rafe had just carried her off to her bedroom before stripping her completely naked and making love with her. She had ached for him to make love with her.

Just looking at him now, with that overlong dark hair tousled about that perfect, chiselled face, his black evening suit perfectly tailored to the broadness of his shoulders and muscled chest, his waist slender, and hips narrow above long legs, was enough to send a shiver of that same aching longing coursing through her own body.

He quirked one dark, mocking brow. ‘Are you usually this indecisive?’

Nina’s cheeks warmed with colour as she heard the rebuke beneath that mockery—implying, no doubt, that indecision was responsible for her father having taken over her life so completely.

‘Perhaps I just don’t think it a good idea to mix business with pleasure?’

Neither did Rafe, but he didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter this time, not when it came to Nina Palitov. She was who she was, and he was determined to spend an evening alone with her. Bodyguards or no bodyguards! ‘Yes or no, Nina?’ he challenged between gritted teeth.

‘Oh, okay—yes, I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow evening!’ She glared up at him impatiently.

Rafe held back his smile of triumph, merely nodding his satisfaction instead. ‘I’ll make the arrangements and call for you here tomorrow, at seven-thirty?’

She winced, and a frown appeared between those moss-green eyes. ‘I’ll need to know beforehand exactly where we’re going.’

‘Small rebellion over— Hey, it’s okay, Nina,’ he assured her gently as she instantly began to chew worriedly on her bottom lip. Lips that were still temptingly plumped from the kisses they had just shared. ‘It really isn’t a problem.’

‘No?’ Her eyes looked huge in the pallor of her face.

‘No.’ Rafe had already decided not to make life any more difficult for her than her father’s stranglehold of security already made it for her. It was enough for Rafe, for now, that she had agreed to go out to dinner with him tomorrow evening. ‘I’ll let you know at the gallery tomorrow where we’re going—I take it that Andy and Rich, or someone very like them, is going to check the place out before we arrive?’

‘You make it sound so cloak and dagger.’ She frowned.

Rafe shrugged. ‘It lacks a certain spontaneity,’ he acknowledged ruefully. ‘But don’t worry about it. We’ll make it workable.’

‘Thank you,’ she breathed.

He looked at her curiously. ‘For what?’

‘For not—well, for not being difficult. A lot of men would be.’

‘I’d hope I’m not like a lot of men, Nina—or even a random one,’ Rafe added teasingly, in an effort to lighten the subject for her.

‘Stop worrying.’ He reached up to smooth the frown from between her brows before bending his head and lightly brushing his lips across hers before straightening. ‘I’ll see you at the gallery tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

‘Smile, Nina, it might never happen,’ he cajoled, as she still looked less than happy.

It was already happening as far as Nina was concerned; she was far too attracted to Rafe D’Angelo. Attracted enough that she had allowed him to make love to her.

Attracted enough that she was rebelling against some of the constraints imposed on her life by her father—something that had never happened before.

Attracted enough that she would have to keep reminding herself that no woman had ever succeeded in capturing and holding the long-term interest of the elusive Raphael D’Angelo. That there had only ever been a series of tall, leggy, blonde and sophisticated women, who apparently drifted in and out of his life—and his bed!—with sickening regularity.

And Nina knew herself to be only two of those things—tall and leggy!

Which didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy this for exactly what it was: a flirtation on Rafe’s part that might or might not eventually lead to them going to bed together.

She smiled as she straightened determinedly. ‘I’m really fine, Rafe. And yes, I’ll be at the gallery tomorrow.’

‘Good.’ He nodded his satisfaction with her answer. ‘And now I think it’s time I was going. There may be no bodyguards following you around tonight but I’m pretty sure the extensive security cameras in this building have already shown your father that I came into your apartment with you earlier but haven’t left yet!’ he added lightly as the two of them walked the short distance down the hallway to the door to her apartment.

Nina was pretty sure they had too.

Which wasn’t to say she liked it, only that this level of security had been in her life for so long she had mainly ceased to even notice it. Maybe it was time she did.

And maybe meeting Rafe, and this attraction she felt towards him, were exactly the wake-up call she had needed to do something about changing it.

* * *

Rafe considered telephoning Michael once he got back to his own apartment twenty minutes later, and then dismissed the idea. His brother would be arriving in New York on Friday evening anyway, in time for the invitation-only gala opening of the Palitov jewellery collection on Saturday evening. The brothers attended any new exhibition presented in one of their three galleries. Gabriel wouldn’t make it this time, but Michael would certainly be there.

And, amongst other things, Rafe was going to take the opportunity of Michael’s presence to discuss a new business venture he had in mind for the Archangel galleries. Not too many people were aware of it, but Rafe was the new ideas man for the Archangel galleries, and always had been. And the reason people weren’t aware of it was because Rafe was really quite modest. He didn’t mind that the media had him tagged as the playboy.

Only maybe it was now time for that to change.

Rafe brought his thoughts up with a start, having no idea why he’d had them in the first place. Or why now.

It couldn’t possibly be because of his attraction to Nina. Could it?

Damn it, he needed to concentrate on learning more about the enigmatic Dmitri Palitov, not his daughter.

Nina had said her father was in a wheelchair because he had been involved in an accident, which probably explained why he had become so reclusive. No doubt it was just as easy for Dmitri Palitov to run his business empire from his apartment on the fiftieth floor of a building he owned as it was to have an actual office in another part of the city.

But an accident didn’t explain why Dmitri Palitov was so obsessive about security.

His daughter’s security in particular.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘I
HAVEN
’
T
EATEN
here before,’ Nina told Rafe as she glanced appreciatively at their surroundings. They had been seated at a secluded table near the window of a fashionable—and wildly exclusive—New York restaurant.

Situated on the top floor of one of New York’s most prestigious skyscrapers, with three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views over the city, it was one of the in places for the rich and famous to enjoy themselves in relative privacy. Nina had spotted several easily recognisable TV personalities, as well as actresses and actors, as they were shown to their table. She even recognised a couple of politicians.

As she had said she would, Nina had spent the day at the gallery—most of the time vacillating between going out to dinner with Rafe this evening, as planned, or telling him she couldn’t make it after all.

The latter hadn’t been because she had received a particularly negative response from her father in regard to the date she had planned with Rafe for this evening; her father’s mouth might have tightened with disapproval, but he seemed to know, from the stubbornness of Nina expression, not to comment further.

No, Nina’s earlier trepidation, in regard to having dinner with Rafe, had been for a completely different reason. And that reason was Rafe D’Angelo himself.

Rafe was unlike any other man she had ever met. Confident and forceful, but not obnoxiously so, with a wicked sense of humour that was also teasing. He was intelligent without being pompous, and his bad-boy good looks were undiminished by the trappings of civilisation. The elegant black evening suit and snowy silk shirt and bow tie he was wearing this evening did little to temper that impression.

He also showed absolutely none of the awe for her father that so many other men did. Nina had been out to dinner with only three other men since her return to New York three years ago. Without exception all of those men had almost fallen over themselves in an effort to impress her father, with Nina’s own preferences or dislikes coming a very poor second.

Rafe, on the other hand, was respectful to her father but at the same time not in the least overwhelmed by the Palitov power or wealth. No, Rafe was most definitely his own man: charming, worldly, wealthy, and confident of himself and his own abilities.

A dangerous combination to a woman who had always known the full force of the effect on other people of the wealth and power of the Palitov name.

‘I heard this place was booked up weeks in advance,’ she added conversationally, once the waiter had poured them each a glass of the pink champagne that had been delivered to their table the moment they sat down, the bottle now resting in a nest of ice in the bucket beside the table.

Rafe shrugged. ‘The owner is a friend of mine.’

Nina gave a teasing smile. ‘Was he a friend before you started eating here so often, or did that come later?’ It wasn’t the same restaurant Rafe had been photographed in with Jennifer Nichols, but Nina was pretty sure she had seen several other photographs on the Internet of him leaving this particular restaurant with other beautiful women.

Rafe shrugged. ‘I knew Gerry before he opened this restaurant. Talking of which—he enjoyed having your two men come by earlier,’ he added ruefully.

Nina eyed him uncertainly. ‘I’m not sure if that’s sarcasm or not?’

‘Not,’ Rafe drawled ruefully. ‘Apparently they did a thorough sweep of the place, and then, because they weren’t officially on duty for another couple of hours, and the restaurant was still closed, the three of them sat down together and played poker for an hour or so till opening time. Gerry loves playing poker. Especially when he wins,’ he added dryly.

Nina chuckled. ‘That sounds like Lawrence and Paul; they taught me to play poker when I was ten, and I started beating them when I was twelve.’

Rafe knew his eyes had widened, but otherwise he managed to keep his expression passive. ‘You play poker with your bodyguards?’

‘Not so much since I started winning.’ She laughed.

‘Remind me never to play strip poker with you,’ he drawled dryly. ‘Shouldn’t you have still been playing with—oh, I don’t know—dolls, or something equally girlish at that age?’

‘Sexist!’ Nina came back dryly. ‘I never played with dolls, and certainly not aged twelve,’ she added with a grimace. ‘I was more interested in boys then than anything so childishly girlish.’

‘And playing poker.’ Yet more insight into the strangeness of Nina’s upbringing, Rafe acknowledged with a frown. Not only had she grown up alone with her father, but her only other companions during those years appeared to have been her bodyguards.

‘Only until I started winning,’ she reminded him.

‘Hmm.’ He frowned. ‘Gerry wanted me to thank you for letting your two men stand guard outside the main restaurant rather than inside it.’

‘No doubt that’s so that they can vet the people coming in.’ Nina winced. ‘I realise they can be a little intrusive.’

‘I told you not to worry about it,’ Rafe dismissed easily.

And she was trying, she really was. ‘What are we celebrating?’ She eyed the champagne curiously.

‘Life?’

Nina smiled as she lifted her glass and chinked it against his before taking an appreciative sip; she loved pink champagne, and Rafe had ordered a bottle from her absolutely favourite vineyard. Coincidentally? Or had he known beforehand?

Rafe smiled as Nina gave him a suspicious glance. ‘Guilty, as charged,’ he drawled in answer to her unspoken question. ‘I telephoned your father earlier today and asked him for the name of your favourite wine.’

Nina’s eyes widened. ‘You did?’

‘Hmm.’ Rafe rested his elbows on the table, his glass clasped loosely between his fingers as he looked at Nina through narrowed lids.

She looked absolutely stunning tonight. She wore a black sequined knee-length sheath of a dress that clung lovingly to the slenderness of her curves, but left her neck and arms bare. Only a pale green shadow on her lids, her lashes long and dark, a peachy blush to her cheeks, her lips coloured with a deeper peach lip gloss. Her hair was secured in a loose knot at her crown, leaving the long creamy column of her throat vulnerably bare.

Ironically, considering her father’s unique and priceless jewellery collection, Nina wore no jewellery this evening. There was nothing to detract from the smooth perfection of her creamy pale peach skin, just a small pair of diamond ear studs.

Rafe had been fully aware that it had been that understated elegance and beauty, in contrast to the other over-jewelled and dramatically made-up women in the restaurant, that had caught the eye of every man in the room when the two of them entered the restaurant together. In response he had placed his arm about Nina’s waist, drawing her tightly against his side as they crossed the room to their table.

Not possessively, exactly. Rafe had never felt possessive over a woman in his life. But he hadn’t wanted any of those men to be under any illusion as to who Nina was with this evening. Or to have any doubts that she would be leaving with that same man at the end of the evening too.

Was that being possessive? Hell if Rafe knew. What he did know was that he hadn’t in the least enjoyed having other men eyeing Nina so appreciatively.

She moistened those full and peach-coloured lips with a nervous sweep of her tongue. ‘You spoke to my father today...?’ she repeated slowly.

Rafe raised dark brows. ‘A courtesy call, to thank him for dinner yesterday evening.’

‘That’s all?’

He shrugged. ‘I told you, I also wanted to know the name and year of your favourite wine.’

Which, Nina accepted, all sounded innocent enough. Except last night her father had warned Rafe to stay away from her, a warning Rafe had taken exception to. And now she was expected to believe that earlier today Rafe had made a thank-you call to her father, and that her father had happily supplied the younger man with the name of her favourite wine for when he took her out to dinner this evening?

She eyed him sceptically. ‘And my father just gave it to you?’

‘Your happiness is very important to him.’ Rafe took another sip of his champagne, those predatory golden eyes quietly watchful over the rim of the glass.

‘Rafe—’

‘Relax, Nina,’ he cut in soothingly. ‘Let’s look at the menus and order our dinner,’ he added as the waiter brought the menus to their table. ‘And then, if you still want to, you can ask me more about my conversation with your father earlier today.’

Oh, Nina would still want to. Just as she couldn’t help wondering if Rafe’s telephone conversation with her father today wasn’t the reason her father had made no objections when Nina had told him of her date with Rafe D’Angelo this evening. It certainly explained her father’s lack of surprise.

‘Spit it out, Nina,’ Rafe drawled once they had made their food selections and the waiter had unobtrusively topped up their champagne glasses before leaving them alone together. ‘I can tell by your worried expression that you’re still questioning my motives for telephoning your father earlier today,’ he supplied as she glanced across at him enquiringly.

Nina looked at him beneath lowered lashes. ‘Am I such an open book?’

‘Hardly!’ Rafe chuckled softly. This woman had been a mystery to him from the first, and the more he came to know her, it seemed the more of a mystery she became.

His forays on the Internet had told him that Nina and her father had lived alone together since she was five years old, and that she had spent her earlier years being educated at home. Her childhood seemed to have been spent exclusively with her wheelchair-bound father, and the muscled men that made up her security detail—making it doubly amazing that she had managed to escape and attend university at all.

Rafe was even more convinced, since meeting Dmitri Palitov, that the other man must have been having heart palpitations over that one. At the same time Rafe couldn’t help but admire Nina for having had the strength to break out of that protective cocoon.

And yet, having broken free for three years, Nina had then stepped back into that repressive ring of security when she’d returned to New York. Admittedly she now had her own apartment in the building her father owned, but it was still very much under her father’s protection. And the design work she did was always within her father’s corporation.

Rafe’s efforts last night to find out more about Dmitri Palitov had hit wall after wall after Nina was five and her mother had died. Nor could Rafe find any record of Anna Palitov’s death, or the reason for it. As there had been only the briefest mention made of the accident just weeks later that had resulted in Dmitri Palitov being in a wheelchair. A car accident that had apparently killed two of the three men travelling in the other car.

Mystery, after mystery, after mystery.

And Nina, slightly shy, vibrantly beautiful, sexy as hell, as well as intelligent, and incredibly talented in her designs, was front and centre of that mystery.

‘I didn’t telephone your father, or tell him of our dinner date, with any idea of challenging his warning last night, Nina,’ Rafe assured her softly now.

‘No?’ She winced.

‘No,’ he replied evenly, having known it would, but hoped it wouldn’t, be her conclusion regarding his actions. ‘I would hope I’m neither that petty nor that vindictive.’

A delicate blush coloured her cheeks at the reproof in Rafe’s tone.

‘Then why did you tell him?’

‘So that you didn’t have to.’ Rafe reached over and placed one of his hands on the top of hers as it rested on the tabletop. ‘Nina, I’m fully aware of how close you and your father are, and the last thing I want is to be the cause of any tension between the two of you. What I do want is for the two of us to get to know each other better, and I have no intention of doing that by leaving you to be the one who has to do the explaining to your father.’

Nina felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Rafe was already too much for one woman to handle: too wickedly handsome, too charming, too amusing, definitely too sexually attractive for his own good. Or, as she had realised last night, her own good.

And she had been totally physically aware of Rafe this evening from the moment she had opened her apartment door and looked at him standing out in the hallway. His hair had still been damp from the shower he must have taken, he had obviously shaved too, but his beard was so dark there was still a sexy shadow along his jawline. And as for the warmth in those golden eyes as his gaze roved slowly over her...

Adding understanding and compassion to Rafe’s already long list of attractions was just being unfair to any woman.

And yet Nina had no doubts that whatever Rafe had said to her father during their telephone call earlier today, it had helped pave the way for her own conversation with her father this evening.

‘Dmitri and I may not be altogether sure that we like each other yet,’ Rafe continued dryly, ‘but I think we respect each other. Which is a start.’

Yes, Nina could appreciate that her father was old-fashioned enough to have appreciated the fact that Rafe had been the one to tell him of their dinner date this evening, even if he hadn’t particularly liked or approved of it. Her father admired strength, respected that strength, and Rafe had it in abundance.

She gave a rueful grimace. ‘I’m sorry I was so suspicious of your motives just now.’

‘Let’s not spend the whole evening apologising to each other, Nina,’ Rafe cut across that apology, giving her hand one last squeeze before sitting back as the waiter placed the first course in front of them.

‘So tell me what you do at Archangel,’ Nina prompted once the waiter had departed.

‘What do I do?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I know that you and your two brothers manage the galleries, but I’m sure that doesn’t take up all of your time,’ she prompted interestedly.

Which was how Rafe came to find himself telling Nina more about the work he did, and about coming up with new ideas for Archangel. He told her some anecdotes from his childhood, growing up in a family of three boys.

‘Your poor mother!’ Nina laughed softly after Rafe had related one of those stories of his childhood, involving himself and Gabriel placing a frog in their grandmother’s bed when she came to stay during the summer when he was eleven. ‘Michael wasn’t involved too?’ she prompted curiously as she took a sip of the coffee that had been served to signal the end of their meal.