The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс
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was this all about? Who’s that man?”
Tearing her stunned gaze away from Rafael’s receding back, she looked dazedly at her father, her mind racing.
She didn’t want to validate his suspicion about Rafael’s identity. If her father realized she was suddenly on such personal terms with the man whose favor he was so fervently hoping to court, he’d subject her to endless interrogation, or ask to be introduced properly—or both. This didn’t only mean lost time, but more important a premature crop of those complications she’d predicted. And she didn’t want the real world to intervene now, didn’t want them to stop being the man and woman who’d found this pure passion for each other, and become the tycoon and the daughter of a hopeful business partner.
But...how could Rafael just leave like that? If he chose not to shake her father’s hand because he didn’t want any contact with business people tonight, she could understand. It was a bit excessive, stung a little, but she would never bring any issues with her father between them. But the way he’d looked at her, then walked away, even after she’d explained her father’s identity...
Stop. Her mind must be playing tricks on her after all the upheavals of the past hours. She must be beyond exhausted now, operating on pure adrenaline...and other hormones. And those weren’t conducive to rational observations.
Someone must have caught his eye, someone important he couldn’t postpone greeting. Then he’d be back.
“What’s going on with you tonight? Talk to me, querida.”
Blinking, she realized she’d been staring at her father vacantly as her mind churned.
Forcing herself out of her fugue, she gave him a hug, his beloved presence grounding her as it always did. “I’m really so sorry I caused you such worry.” Heat rushed to her face with memories of why she had. “I came as soon as I could to reassure you I’m fine. But I have to go now.”
“You called that man Rafael. Is he who I think he is?”
Her hungry gaze sought out Rafael, found him standing at the entrance of the ballroom. So he wasn’t coming back. He was waiting for her to join him. To begin their first night together.
She turned to her father, urgency coursing in her blood. “Please, Daddy—don’t ask me anything now, okay?” She kissed his lean cheek. “I’ll tell you everything later.”
Looking almost pained with curiosity and anxiety, he stared down at her. “As long as you are fine?”
At his worried question, she nodded as her gaze dragged back to Rafael—and her breath caught.
A woman was approaching Rafael—statuesque, flaming red tresses cascading down to her buttocks, dangerous curves in a strapless black dress. She looked as if she was in a trance. Ellie knew that she must have looked exactly the same as she’d gravitated toward him hours earlier.
Making a conscious effort to breathe again, Ellie absently answered her father’s further demands for assurance, no longer anxious to leave him. She’d better stay put until Rafael sent his admirer on her way.
The woman reached him. Rafael brooded down at her as she talked then he raised his eyes and looked straight at her.
After her heart zoomed at the touch of his gaze, it slowed down to a wary rhythm at the emptiness she saw there. Hoping to reestablish the connection meeting his partner and her father had interrupted, she forced a smile only he would understand on her lips.
It faltered when he continued to cast that blank gaze at her. It froze along with her blood as the beautiful redhead put her arm around him and they turned and walked out of the ballroom.
Tremors invading her every muscle, her mind tripped over rationalizations. He must be trying to get rid of that woman without making a scene. When he did, he’d come back. Or not. He expected she’d follow him out. That must have been what he’d been telling her with that vacant stare.
She turned to her father. “See you tomorrow, okay?”
Before he could say anything, she rushed away.
Once outside the ballroom, she felt as if a thundercloud had descended. Then she saw the source of the darkness.
Richard Graves was leaning a formidable shoulder against the gold-paneled wall, watching people like a bored predator deciding which one he’d pick off first, nursing what looked like a straight whiskey. At the sight of her, he lazily unfolded to his full height, making her feel as if the world had shrunk.
Collecting herself, she nodded. “Mr. Graves.”
“Looking for Rafael?”
Acutely uncomfortable under his laser gaze, but feeling trapped since she didn’t know where to look, she said, “I’ll wait until he comes back.”
“You’ll wait till morning, then. That’s the soonest I see him being done with that redheaded ballistic missile.”
Her heart boomed painfully. It wasn’t what he’d said, she told herself. It was Graves himself. She didn’t get intimidated easily, but this man—she bet he scared monsters. And for some reason, he’d decided he didn’t think much of her.
Not that she cared. She only cared about Rafael’s opinion.
“You’re mistaken, Mr. Graves. Rafael is...” She couldn’t go on. Her throat closed under his pitiless stare and the growing uncertainty and confusion. What was Rafael doing?
“Rafael is with—or rather in—that redhead now.” He had the look of someone taking intense pleasure from pouring acid in an infected wound. “Seems he promised you an intensive exercise in his bed, but had a change of plans. Not to mention a huge upgrade in exercise-mat quality. Me, alas, I don’t have anything better to do for the night. I might be persuaded to accommodate you in his stead.”
She bit her lip to stop it from trembling at his barrage. “Why are you being so...vicious?”
He shrugged. “I’m actually being kind. I’m saving you further embarrassment—if you feel such a thing—and am offering you an alternative, so your night’s...efforts aren’t a total waste.”
Dazed, unable to believe someone would talk to her so offensively, she choked, “I don’t know why you disliked me on sight...”
“Instant judgments. And executions. Just two of my many shining qualities.”
Corrosive heat surged behind her eyes as she searched his caustic stare. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“That Rafael took that redhead to his quarters and is probably having sex with her as we speak? Yes.”
She tore her gaze away, heart flailing as for one last time she silently begged Rafael to come back, prove this cruel man wrong.
But Rafael wouldn’t come back.
And every idealistic rationalization was knocked down, replaced with the sordid truth.
Rafael had probably come out to the ball with her because he wanted to see if there was someone who’d appeal to him more before he wasted the night on her. And he had found a more beautiful woman, no doubt one who wouldn’t dream of asking him to defer his pleasure. And he’d just forgotten about her. He hadn’t even deemed her worth another word or glance, as if those hours of magic hadn’t happened.
But it hadn’t been magic. Not between them. The magic had been all his. A sorcerer casting his dark spells on a willing victim, entertaining himself while he pulled the strings of hundreds of others by remote control.
Graves knocked back the rest of his whiskey before leveling harsh eyes on her. “You’re better off. Rafael is way out of your league.”
She stared at this man of granite who hacked at her with such pitilessness. But what hurt most was that he was right. About everything.
He rolled