She had been woken by Daisy’s overloud whispers at least two hours ago, Rafe’s equally audible replies telling Cairo that her niece wasn’t alone, and so she had simply pulled the duvet back over her head and gone back to sleep!
She gave a contented sigh as she gazed out at the tranquillity of the valley. ‘It’s another lovely day.’
‘We’re going home today, Aunty Cairo!’ Daisy could obviously contain her excitement no longer.
Cairo raised questioning brows at Rafe before giving her niece a quizzical smile. ‘We are …?’
Daisy nodded, her eyes glowing and her cheeks flushed. ‘I wanted to come and wake you hours ago so I could tell you, but Uncle Rafe wouldn’t let me disturb you.’
‘What I actually said, Daisy, was that women of your aunt’s advanced age need all the beauty sleep they can get!’ Rafe corrected mockingly.
Cairo had wondered just how she and Rafe were going to face each other again after the incident down by the pool last night—now she knew! Sarcasm was obviously the order of the day….
She gave him a saccharin-sweet smile. ‘And I thought we had agreed last night that, at the advanced age of thirty-seven, it’s you who needs your beauty sleep?’ That Rafe looked very lean and dangerously attractive in a white T-shirt and faded jeans gave lie to that statement!
Daisy turned to look at Rafe, her eyes wide. ‘Are you really thirty-seven, Uncle Rafe?’
Rafe gave a rueful nod of his head in Cairo’s direction as he heard the note of awe in Daisy’s voice. ‘Daisy, honey, when you’re older, you’ll realize that men are like a fine wine—they just get better as they mature.’
‘Or they become as sour as vinegar,’ Cairo put in lightly.
And not exactly honestly, where Rafe was concerned, she acknowledged inwardly. He did have at least one thing in common with a fine wine, as last night testified only too well—the last eight years had just made him more headily potent!
He looked across at her with teasing blue eyes. ‘I think your Aunty Cairo is—confusing her wines,’ he drawled.
That was quite enough of that conversation, Cairo decided firmly. ‘So, we’re leaving later today …?’ she prompted in a pointed attempt to change the subject.
Rafe continued to hold her gaze challengingly for several more seconds before nodding. ‘Jeff telephoned earlier; Margo and baby Simon are going to be discharged tomorrow morning.’
Cairo’s face lit up and she put her coffee mug down on the table so that she could give Daisy a hug. ‘That’s wonderful news!’
Rafe took advantage of Cairo’s momentary distraction to take in her appearance. She looked sleek and tanned this morning in a knee-length cream sundress, her legs bare and silky. She had cream flip-flops on her feet, and her face was bare of make-up, too, apart from a peachy gloss she had applied to her lips.
The lips that still looked slightly bruised from the force of their lovemaking the previous evening….
His stomach muscles clenched. Dammit, he had promised himself he wouldn’t think about last night! At least, not until after he had safely delivered Daisy back to Margo and Jeff, anyway….
Cairo was still smiling as she looked across the table at him. ‘What travel arrangements have you made for Daisy and me?’
‘For all three of us,’ Rafe corrected.
Cairo’s smile faded. ‘But you can’t leave yet—’
‘I can do what I please, Cairo.’ Rafe scowled.
‘But what about the film festival?’
‘What about it?’
Cairo shrugged. ‘I assumed you needed to be there to collect your award.’
‘If I win an award, my assistant director can pick it up,’ Rafe dismissed without concern. ‘It’s more important to get you and Daisy back to England.’
‘I’m quite capable of getting myself and Daisy back to England, thank you very much—’
‘I have a private jet organized to fly us out this afternoon,’ he cut in abruptly in a tone that brooked no argument.
Cairo frowned as she slowly released Daisy. ‘But I came over in my car….’
‘I’ve also made arrangements for your car to be collected and driven back to England.’
Her brows rose at his arrogance. ‘I really would rather drive my own car back, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind in the least,’ Rafe drawled. ‘But you might want to look at these before making a definite decision on that …’ He pushed a pile of newspapers across the table towards her.
Cairo glanced down at the newspapers, her eyes widening as the very first one in the pile, an English publication, had a front-page photograph of herself and Rafe smiling at each other as they sat at the table together in the square in Grasse.
Cairo became very still as she pulled the tabloid newspaper further across the table. Although that hadn’t been necessary in order to be able to read the three inch headline above the photograph: CAIRO AND RAFE FIND LOVE IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE!
Not exactly subtle. But, then, were any of the tabloids?
‘More photographs and story on page three’ was the smaller announcement beneath that damning photograph.
What story? Cairo wondered incredulously. Until she and Rafe returned to the villa last night there hadn’t been a story—
Oh, no …!
No!
Cairo could feel herself paling even as she quickly turned to page three, her breath leaving her in a relieved gasp as she saw that the ‘story’ actually only consisted of half a dozen more photographs of herself and Rafe together yesterday in Grasse.
‘That man didn’t take a single photograph of me, Aunty Cairo,’ Daisy told her indignantly.
‘Didn’t he, love?’ she answered distractedly as she moved on to the next newspaper in the pile.
This one, and the other four, all had photographs of herself and Rafe as they arrived at the party in Cannes together the previous evening.
Not a single one of those reporters had been enterprising enough to follow them back to the villa last night in the hopes of taking intimate photographs of her and Rafe together. Thank goodness!
She and Rafe looked good together, she realized with a fierce frown. With her wearing three inch heels they were of a similar height, Rafe’s dark hair and swarthy skin a perfect foil for her own fairer colouring as they stood close together, Rafe’s hand resting lightly beneath her elbow, a confident smile curving his lips.
Looks can be deceptive, Cairo decided firmly as she pushed the newspapers away to look across the table at the man himself. ‘Your point is …?’
God, she was beautiful when she was being haughty, Rafe acknowledged admiringly. If a little lacking in perception! ‘Surely it’s obvious? You turn up anywhere today expecting to travel home by public transport and you’re going to be mobbed by yet more reporters.’
‘Damn!’ She grimaced. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’
Rafe relaxed back in his chair as he regarded her mockingly. ‘Are you sure that’s appropriate language to use in front of Daisy?’
‘Daddy says damn isn’t swearing, Uncle Rafe,’ Daisy told him brightly. ‘And neither is—’
‘I think your daddy is using a lot of poetic licence, Daisy,’ Rafe teased. ‘Still not want to come on the plane with us this