The Purest of Diamonds?. Susan Stephens
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Raffa agreed, ‘not through anything I do, anyway, though there’s nothing to prevent us having a bit of fun. I just hope with all the Skavanga Diamonds glittering at once you don’t dazzle me into a stupor.’
‘No chance of that,’ Leila said, laughing at Raffa’s expression as she sat down.
Warmth flooded her as Raffa sat down in the next chair, close but not too close, almost touching but not touching, in a way that made her thighs tingle.
‘You can rely on me to back you up with enough smouldering looks and dirty dancing to shock your sisters out of their killer shoes.’
‘Wonderful.’ Did she mean to say that? Yes, she did. ‘That should make my home life a whole lot easier,’ she commented dryly.
‘Any time I can be of service...’
And this was a really bad time to be holding Raffa’s stare. His eyes were dancing with laughter, which told her nothing about his thoughts, but if this connection between them was only for tonight, it was the most fun she’d had in a long time. And now Britt and Eva had arrived in the ballroom on the arms of their handsome partners, bringing an end to their conversation as every head in the ballroom swivelled round.
‘Don’t look so worried, Leila,’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close. ‘I promise not to do anything that might upset them.’
Once she stared at Raffa it was hard to look away. ‘Something tells me Eva and Britt aren’t going to believe we’ve been sitting, chatting in the lounge all this time.’
And the truth was even more complicated than that, Leila realised. Both of them had touched on subjects she guessed neither of them would dream of discussing with a stranger, and the connection she’d sensed between them at first had grown stronger because of it.
‘You’ll just have to put up with your sisters’ suspicions,’ Raffa said pragmatically, leaning back as he prepared to stand to greet their dinner companions.
‘Just so long as we don’t take this too far,’ Leila agreed, already wondering what she’d got herself into as Raffa turned to bestow a lingering look on her face.
‘You and I know what went on.’
Precisely nothing, she thought as the most handsome man in the room went on to list their harmless pastimes. ‘You drank juice. We talked. We relaxed. But there’s no way on earth your sisters are going to believe that, so unless you’d rather pretend we haven’t been together every second since you arrived at the hotel—’
‘You make our innocent time together sound so bad.’
‘What fun would it be otherwise?’ he murmured.
She hummed as Raffa’s black gaze bored deep into hers.
‘Let the teasing begin,’ he said.
Had it already? she wondered as Raffa leaned in close. And was she the main target? If Britt and Eva had been suspicious before, seeing the two of them like this, so close they were practically kissing, would turn her sisters into tireless seekers after the truth. But she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was following the advice in her mother’s letter and being bold.
And even when Raffa smiled his slow, sexy smile, she asked herself, was it likely Britt and Eva would imagine she’d had hot monkey sex with Raffa Leon?
Absolutely not!
So what did she have to worry about?
She could relax.
Britt and Eva stared first at Raffa, and then at their sister. ‘Well,’ Britt said, smiling as they greeted her. ‘Here you are, Leila.’ She exchanged an arch-browed look with Eva.
‘I’m really sorry we missed the reception upstairs,’ Leila began, slipping easily back into the role of peacemaker, ‘but—’
‘But we got talking,’ Raffa intervened smoothly.
‘I’m sure you did,’ Eva agreed dryly.
‘We were in the lounge,’ Leila chipped in.
‘Of course you were,’ Britt agreed.
Raffa was right. They were never going to believe her. She glanced at him, only for Raffa to give her an amused and conspiratorial look. Let the teasing begin, he’d said. But let’s not overdo it, her eyes begged him as her sisters sat down. This was Eva’s special night, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.
Raffa returned her look with a reassuring expression. She’d never had a co-conspirator before. And it was quite incredible to think she belonged with such a party of swans, Leila mused as everyone started talking at once. Eva looked off-the-scale stunning, with her long, flame-red hair caught back on either side of her beautiful face with glittering diamond combs, her fabulous figure displayed in a floor-length, body-hugging gown of flesh-coloured lace, embellished with tiny crystals. And the heat flying between Eva and Count Roman Quisvada, the man she would marry tomorrow, was off the scale.
Would a man ever look at her that way? Leila wondered as she turned her attention to Britt, whose husband, Sheikh Sharif, was currently shooting intensely personal messages into his wife’s eyes. With her icy Nordic looks, imposing height and slender figure, Britt was the perfect foil for her Arabian prince, and there was such closeness between them, Leila couldn’t help but feel wistful.
There was such an overload of glamour at their table they were the focus of the room. Three amazing-looking men, two fabulous-looking women...and Leila. Her sisters set a standard she couldn’t hope to compete with, but for one night, with Raffa at her side, she was going to give it a shot.
‘Would you like me to help you choose from the menu, Leila?’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close.
Britt and Eva were instantly on alert, but she felt obliged to point out, ‘It’s a fixed menu.’
‘So it is,’ Raffa agreed, not losing eye contact with her for a moment.
It was going to be hard remembering this was just pretence, but a glance at her sisters reassured her they were convinced.
‘Would you like me to read the menu out to you?’ Raffa now suggested.
‘Yes, please,’ she said, sitting back with the air of a woman for whom men peeled grapes.
Britt and Eva had designed the menu between them and Leila soon realised that her sisters had chosen food which was impossible to eat without appearing provocative—a look Leila was keen to avoid tonight, even if her intention was to tease them, as she had to balance the game with not taking things too far with Raffa.
The appetiser was a small baked cheese drizzled with truffle oil on a bed of salad leaves...
‘Don’t you like cheese, Leila?’
As Raffa asked the question Britt and Eva stared at her. She loved cheese and they knew it. Britt had probably designed this first course with Leila’s preferences in mind. But the thought of all that soft, warm cheese glistening on her lips—
‘Shall we swap plates?’ Raffa suggested.
She lifted the plate. He reached for it, and their fingers touched. Heat exploded inside her. Her gasp could probably be heard in the car park.
‘I love a man with a healthy appetite,’ Britt commented, flashing a look at Eva.
‘What’s the matter, baby sister?’ Eva contributed, picking up the virtual ball Britt had just lobbed across the net. ‘Not enough hot food for you around this table?’
‘I’ve got an enormous appetite,’ Raffa confessed with every appearance of innocence. ‘If any of you don’t want your food, please pass it my way.’
The other men registered small smiles at this, while Britt and Eva exchanged a knowing look.
Okay. She got it. Leila was Little Red Riding Hood paired with the big bad wolf for the night. She gave her