A Taste of the Forbidden

Ni en pedo!

No way!

Grace Blake worked for him, and Cesar did not have personal relationships with the women he employed. Even ones he found as interesting and unpredictable—and, apparently, arousing—as he did Miss Blake!

Even if the flush to her cheeks, and the arousal of her nipples beneath her fitted white blouse, now seemed to imply she found him equally physically intriguing.

Which placed Cesar in the dilemma that he was also no longer certain it would be wise for him to put forward the suggestion that had occurred to him the night before.

‘Mr Navarro?’ She looked at him warily now.

Cesar straightened abruptly before moving to resume his seat behind the desk, effectively putting the width of that desk between them, at the same time as it hid the swell of his arousal. ‘You appear to have made a somewhat … rocky beginning to your employment with me, Miss Blake—’ He broke off as she gave a self-derisive snort. ‘Exactly.’ He nodded tersely. ‘Perhaps, if you are agreeable, we should attempt to start again?’

What exactly did he mean by that? Grace mused ruefully. Rather than asking her to leave, was he willing to overlook all those embarrassing foot-in-the-mouth things she had said to him, both last night and again this morning, and allow her to continue working for him, after all? If that was the case, then perhaps she had misjudged him and he wasn’t the ruthlessly single-minded—even cold-blooded?—businessman she had believed him to be before the two of them had met?

And even if he was willing to overlook her outspoken familiarity to date, that didn’t mean he was really going to forget those embarrassing things she had said to him—especially that ‘gorgeously handsome’ remark!

Or that Grace was going to be able to forget her completely physical reaction to the unexpected sound of his laughter, either.

She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I’m really not sure that I’m suited to living out in the wilds of Hampshire for any length of time.’

‘This estate is hardly in “the wilds” of anywhere, Miss Blake,’ he drawled. ‘The nearest town is only ten point two kilometres away, and there are twenty other people living within the walls of the estate. Yes, I am aware that the majority of them are my security,’ he added impatiently as Grace would have interrupted. ‘But that does not make them any less other human beings to talk and relate to.’

Why was she not surprised that Cesar Navarro knew exactly how many kilometres it was to town, or the exact number of people there were working on his estate?

Grace gave a grimace. ‘They, and the cameras everywhere, make me feel like a goldfish in a bowl.’

‘The cameras are not everywhere, Miss Blake.’ He frowned his irritation. ‘There are none in the bathrooms, for example—’

‘That would be totally paranoid!’ she came back tartly. ‘Besides being a total invasion of privacy,’ she added.

‘You believe me to be paranoid, Miss Blake?’

There was no missing the steely edge to his tone. ‘I’m not used to having my every move watched—’

‘There are no security cameras in here.’

‘This is also the one room I’m barred from entering!’

‘When I am not in it, yes,’ Cesar conceded, still annoyed at the ‘paranoid’ comment. ‘When the study is empty the motion sensor alarm would go off if you were to enter.’

‘Oh, great!’ She eyed him derisively. ‘What exactly do you have in here that’s so valuable I’m not even allowed to come in and dust?’

Cesar breathed deeply through his nose. ‘This is my sanctuary. Somewhere that I come for complete privacy.’

‘To do what, exactly? Do you dance around the room naked on a full moon or something?’

Cesar’s breath caught in his throat, not even the gleam of laughter he could see in those wide blue-green eyes enough to temper his rising incredulity with this woman. ‘Do you ever stop to think before you speak?’ he prompted softly.

‘Usually.’ She grimaced. ‘For some reason, my filter button seems to be on “off” whenever I talk to you.’

He arched a brow. ‘I make you nervous, perhaps?’

‘That’s an understatement!’

‘Would you care to explain what it is about me that makes you nervous?’

Everything would be the answer to that question, Grace realised with dismay. Cesar Navarro was too big, too immediate, too arrogantly sure of himself, too self-contained, the latter to such a degree she was constantly filled with this overwhelming—and uncharacteristic—impulse to try to shock him out of that self-containment. And lastly, he really was too ‘gorgeously handsome’ for his own good.

She drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t think so, no.’

Cesar’s mouth quirked at the firm finality of her tone. ‘Can it be that you are learning some discretion at last?’

She raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘We can always hope so.’

He nodded. ‘And to answer your previous question— perhaps I just like the feeling of knowing that I could dance around the room naked if I wished to do so?’

‘Really?’ Grace looked taken aback.

Cesar gave a disgusted snort. ‘This conversation really has become too ridiculous!’ He gave an impatient shake of his head as he realised he was now trying to shock her, a dangerous game that could only become even more so.

‘I asked to see you this morning because your comments last night, in regard to the isolation of the cottage where you are currently staying, led me to believe, if you are to remain in my employment, that perhaps you might feel more comfortable occupying one of the bedrooms in the east wing of the house rather than remaining in the cottage?’

Her eyes widened. ‘You’re asking me to move into the main house with you and Raphael?’

Cesar’s mouth tightened at the memory of the relationship Grace Blake had believed he had with the other man. ‘I am suggesting that you might feel less isolated if you were to occupy one of the bedrooms in the east wing of the main house,’ he repeated firmly.

She frowned. ‘That’s a bit of a turnaround from Kevin’s initial comment to me that “no one ever stays in the main house but Mr Navarro and Raphael”, isn’t it?’

‘And was it this remark which helped to convince you that Raphael and I must be … a couple?’

‘That, along with Raphael’s less than friendly attitude towards me yesterday evening,’ she recalled with a frown.

Cesar’s mouth twisted into a humourless smile. ‘It did not occur to you that perhaps Raphael’s presence here in the main house, and his “less than friendly attitude”, might be for another reason other than the one you have so obviously jumped to?’

‘What other reason?’

‘Think, Miss Blake,’ he drawled.

She shrugged. ‘Well … he’s with you constantly. Deals with your personal things. Serves your food. Obviously views strangers with suspicion until proven otherwise.’

‘And what does all of that suggest to you, Miss Blake?’

‘That he’s as paranoid as you are?’

Cesar’s mouth tightened. ‘I may have found some of your outspokenness amusing to date, Miss Blake, but I nevertheless suggest you have a care.’

What did it suggest to her? Grace puzzled ruefully. There was the obvious conclusion she had come to, of course—and which Cesar Navarro had very firmly squashed! So what other—? ‘He’s your personal bodyguard!’ she realised slowly.