Page 102 of In Love and Revenge

His lips crash on to mine and he kisses me like it’s not been a week but a century since he was last permitted to touch me. My body ignores the voice in my head screaming at me to get as far away from him as possible. Instead, I moan into the kiss, sliding my tongue into his mouth and grabbing at his shirt. He pulls me closer and his rock-hard dick presses into me.

‘This is madness,’ I pant, breaking away. ‘Why are you doing this?’

He shoves his hands on to his hips like he needs to physically restrain himself from pulling me back to him. ‘Because I have no damn choice.’

‘What? Why?’

He frowns as if what he’s about to say both irritates and confuses him in equal measure. ‘Because it’syou, Aurora. It’s only ever been you, no matter how much I’ve tried to convince myself otherwise. I thought it was because I blamed your father. That this ...’ His nostrils flare and his voice drops to something low and dangerous. ‘... thisobsessionwould be gone once I knew the truth. Only, it’s not an obsession any more, it’s something that’s become goddamn essential to my survival. And it hasn’t gone. It multiplied by a billion the moment I knew.’

‘Knew what? What are you talking about?’

‘That he’s innocent. That your father’s innocent.’

‘Y-you b-believe me?’ I choke, clinging to his words, desperate for someone, anyone, to know what I have all along. That he didn’t do it. That my father’s a good man.

Rafael’s eyes soften as he steps closer to me.

I can’t help it, I let out an ugly, strangled sound. ‘Are you just saying that so I’ll come with you? Is this some cruel joke?’

‘Aurora,’ Rafael says, cupping my face inside both palms. ‘I would never joke with you. Not about this.’

‘You really believe me.’ I sniff, searching his eyes for hesitation, but there’s none. He looks back at me with the same confident assurance he has in his eyes when I’ve seen him negotiate multimillion-pound deals at work.

‘I believe your father,’ he says.

‘I don’t understand.’

He inhales slowly, sliding his lips to my forehead before pressing the gentlest of kisses there.

‘Let me finish packing, Beauty.’

Chapter 27

Rafael

Aurora’s unusually quiet as I give her a tour of my house. I’m so used to her snarky backchat that her silence is making a niggle of dread squirm in my gut.

I’m used to people being speechless when they see the extent of my property. Six en suite bedrooms, all with walk-in wardrobes, home office with its own giant meeting room, private cinema, pool house with gym and boxing ring.

The place on The Bishops Avenue set me back a cool fifty-three million when I bought it. Worth every penny, the agent assured me. And she was right. The lack of neighbours only served as a bigger draw. It’s not that there aren’t other houses, but half the time the owners aren’t here. It’s a ghost street, partially made up of billionaires’ second homes, visited only by the staff on their payroll who maintain everything between visits. But something tells me this isn’t that.

What if she won’t agree to stay and insists I let her leave?

‘Your home is beautiful,’ she says finally as I lead her back into the kitchen.

‘Use the gym and pool whenever you like. It’s maintained daily, so you may meet Jeff coming into the pool house to check on it,’ I say.

‘Jeff?’ Aurora echoes, her face pale as her eyes ping-pong around my giant open-plan kitchen and dining room that overlooks the garden where the pool house sits.

If she didn’t look like a scared little bunny in headlights then I might feel jealous at the sound of another man’s name leaving her pouty lips.

‘Help yourself to food, drinks. Anything you like. I want you to feel at home.’ I walk over to her, studying the deep line that’s settled between her brows. ‘Aurora?’ I say, gently lifting her chin so she meets my eyes.

She swallows. ‘Yes?’

Her blond locks are trying to escape her ponytail. Her pink lips have been parted in surprise ever since I packed that suitcase and carried it out to my car. And her eyes. Bloody hell, her beautiful clear blue eyes are gazing at me with such uncertainty.

‘I have six bedrooms, but I’d very much like you to unpack your things in mine.’