He began to move, having to stride quickly to catch her. Just before she reached the door he pushed his hand out, catching her wrist, spinning her around. “Wait.”
She stared up at him and though it was impossible to make out her face in the dim light of the room he felt emotions emanating from her.
Cristo.
Had he hurt her?
“Lauren?”
She angled her face away, looking towards the door, but at least she was standing her ground rather than physically running from him.
“Where are you going?”
“To my room.”
“Why?”
Her throat shifted as she swallowed. “Why not?”
Great question. What had he expected? “Why don’t you stay for a while? Keep me company.”
She angled her face to his and even in this light it was impossible to miss the defiant glimmer in her eyes. “No, Rafaello. No.”
He waited, his breath locked inside of him, worry spreading like a vine. Had he hurt her? Was she angry?
“That was great but it was just sex. Remember? I’m not interested in keeping you company or hearing your deepest secrets or swapping life stories. I’m not interested in you. What just happened was a physical release, that’s it.”
He wondered at the emotions she was invoking – anger, disappointment, disbelief, disgust. He stared at her and then shook his head with frustration. He wasn’t after a pledge of love or anything, but her swift rejection coiled through him like a snake.
“Yeah, it was just sex. You’re preaching to the choir, Lauren. But it was great sex and I don’t see why you need to run away from that.”
She stared at him, shocked.
“Stay. Talk a while. Make love with me again. What’s the harm in that?”
Her eyes widened and she pulled her hand away, shaking her head. “No, Raf. That was – a one off. It wasn’t the start of anything; it was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It should never have happened. Please accept that.” She took another step. “Good night.”
Chapter Five
“RAF’S NOT JOINING US?” Alessia happened to ask right as Lauren wheeled Yaya into the salon two days later. Her eyes were drawn traitorously to the piano before she could control the impulse.
“Nah, he’s with Giselle,” Luca said with a grin.
“Giselle?”
“You know, that French model he was seeing last summer?”
Lauren’s fingers stumbled a little as she pressed the brakes on the chair. She needed a second to compose herself. Between the piano and the discovery that Raf was dating some French supermodel she felt like her insides were being pummelled. As she’d felt every moment since they’d had sex.
She refused to think of what they’d done in any other, more flowery terms. It hadn’t been ‘making love’ or ‘coming together’. It had been sex. Wild, animalistic, passionate, fantastic sex. It had meant nothing – it had been the opposite to what she and Thom had shared.
True, Thom had never driven her wild in the same way Raf had managed to do, so easily sending her over the edge, making reality warp and bend into fantasy. But with Thom it had been love-making, as it should have been. It had meant something. It had meant everything.
So what if Rafaello was dating someone else? Did she care? Not one bit, she told herself as she steeled herself to appear completely unfazed by this discovery. She came to stand at Yaya’s side, helping her from the chair.
The family would be leaving the next day – and normality would return. While Lauren was, generally, an advocate for family togetherness at times like this, she was secretly glad for Yaya’s sake that the pace of life would slow down. It was too much for her to have lunches every day. Lauren could see how tired Yaya was becoming and was looking forward to implementing a much quieter pace for the next week or so.
She settled Yaya at the table and as had become her habit, made a quick escape. The day after she’d slept with Raf it had been a form of torture. He’d watched her with smouldering eyes and an intensity that had made it almost impossible to put one foot in front of the other. She found she couldn’t stay