Bride in a Gilded Cage Read Online Free PDF Page B

hormones, he went to intercept her.
    Isobel tried not to be intimidated by the plush luxury of the iconic Paris hotel. It was a long time since she’d been somewhere so opulent, and she found it a little overpowering now. If she’d felt like a bag lady earlier, now she felt as if she might be mistaken for a cleaner.
    She went towards the reception desk, with the intention of getting them to inform Rafael that she was here. She was not expecting the great man to be waiting himself. But just then something tall and dark caught her eye. She turned to see Rafael, in a coal-black suit and white shirt, striding across the marble lobby towards her. Isobel quailed inwardly. He looked angry, a glower transforming his features as he came closer and closer. She felt a hot rush of sensation when she remembered the tango they’d danced earlier and how closely he’d held her.
    He came to a stop just inches away, and Isobel was more nervous than she cared to admit, reacting testily to his obvious irritation. ‘There’s no need to look like you’re about to take my head off. I’m only too happy to turn around and go home.’
    For a second she saw Rafael battle with something, and then the glower was gone, replaced by a smile so gorgeousand charming that she was sorry she’d said anything. He put a disturbingly warm hand on her elbow.
    ‘Come through to the bar. We’ll have an aperitif before dinner.’
    Isobel had no choice but to follow him. His hand was like a steel brand on her elbow, and heat radiated up her arm. No other man had ever had such a viscerally intense physical reaction on her body. To her relief when they walked into the bar he let her go, so they could sit down at a table. The décor was a sophisticated mix of modern and antique, the lighting was low and the tones of conversation around them reverentially hushed. Soft piano music played in the background.
    She’d dreaded this moment of seeing Rafael again for three years, and yet now that it was here it didn’t feel as if it was dread making her belly tighten…
    A bowing waiter materialised, as if from thin air, and Rafael looked at Isobel. She felt flustered and hot. ‘I’ll…just have a sparkling water, please.’
    Rafael just looked at her, before glancing at the waiter and saying, ‘A shot of whisky. No ice. Thank you.’
    The waiter walked away and Rafael settled back into his chair, long legs stretched out under the table. Isobel’s usual sense of co-ordination and grace had deserted her somewhere back in the lobby. She felt as tightly wound as a spring and sat straight, legs tucked under her chair, as far away from his as she could get.
    The corner of his mouth tipped up in a small smile and her chest literally ached for a second.
    ‘I have to admit it, Isobel, you’ve surprised me and proved me wrong.’
    She schooled her body and mind’s traitorous responsesand replied tightly, ‘I wasn’t aware that I was doing anything with you in mind.’
    His smile grew. ‘You threw down the gauntlet when you left Buenos Aires.’
    ‘I also told you that I never wanted to see you again.’
    He smiled. ‘Well, you knew that wasn’t going to happen.’
    Isobel felt the colour leaching from her face like a physical reaction, draining all the way down to her feet. No escape.
    He continued. ‘I’ve kept tabs on you, and believe me, if I’d thought it necessary I would have come for you a lot sooner.’ He shrugged minutely and almost smirked. ‘But it would appear that your closest association has been with your gay dance partner, so I wasn’t too worried.’
    Heat flooded Isobel’s cheeks at his ‘I would have come for you a lot sooner.’ ‘You had me followed?’
    Rafael shrugged again, and grimaced delicately. ‘I wouldn’t say followed, per se, I merely had access to your movements. After all, you are essentially my fiancée.’
    Fury raced through Isobel, and she seized the opportunity to feel righteous, with something concrete to be angry