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sat forward with her back straight, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. ‘Rafe, I have a confession to make.’

      Unfortunately, he merely looked amused, which wasn’t at all helpful. ‘I thought something must be troubling you.’

      ‘Did it show tonight? I’m sorry. Do you think your guests noticed?’

      ‘No, Charlie, relax.’ He gave a smiling, somewhat indulgent shake of his head. ‘It’s just that I’ve learned to read the signs. There’s a certain way you hold your mouth when you’re distracted or worried, but as far as anyone else is concerned you were perfect tonight. You look very lovely, by the way.’

      ‘Yes, you told me.’ She refused to take his flattery seriously. ‘It’s the dress, of course.’

      This brought another slow, knowing smile tilting the corners of his sexy mouth. ‘Of course. We’ll blame the dress. Now, what’s your problem?’

      Charlie’s problem was the same problem that had dogged her all her life. ‘Money.’

      ‘Money?’ Rafe looked understandably puzzled. ‘So what’s the problem exactly? You have too little or too much money?’

      She couldn’t imagine ever being worried about having too much money. ‘Too little, of course. I’m sorry, I—’

      A crease furrowed between Rafe’s dark brows. ‘Dare I ask about the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars I gave you? I know it’s not really any of my business, but you haven’t spent that already, have you?’

      ‘Well, yes—I have—actually.’ Charlie almost added an apology as she made this confession, but stopped herself just in time. She would only make matters worse if she behaved as if she were guilty. ‘I’m only telling you this, because I went shopping today, and I tried to buy the clothes out of my own savings. But I didn’t have quite enough, not for the shoes and boots, as well as the coat and the dresses.’

      ‘But you weren’t expected to pay for the clothes out of your own purse. Surely Monique explained?’

      ‘I think she may have tried to. She said something about a St Romain account, but I wanted to pay for them, Rafe. You’ve already given me so much money.’

      ‘Which you’ve managed to spend in forty-eight hours. That’s no mean feat, Charlie.’

      She had no answer for this. At least Rafe didn’t ask her what she’d spent the money on. She still felt too tense about Isla to try to talk about that situation.

      No doubt he assumed she’d bought a yacht or an apartment, or even that she’d used his money to pay off old debts.

      A deafening silence followed her admission. In the midst of the awkwardness, she heard a ping from her phone, which she’d left on her bedside table.

      ‘Do you mind if I get that?’ she asked.

      ‘By all means.’ Rafe gave a stiff nod of his head and he spoke with excessive, almost chilling politeness.

      Charlie knew she’d disappointed him and she might have felt guilty if she hadn’t been so very anxious about her family. They must be in Boston by now. Her stomach was churning as she dashed to the phone.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      RAFE KNEW IT was foolish to feel disappointed in Charlie simply because she’d dispensed with his money so easily. She was perfectly entitled to do what she liked with the cheque he’d given her.

      She was fulfilling her obligations—she’d accompanied him to Montaigne and was acting as a stand-in for her sister, and that was all he’d asked of her. How she spent the money was none of his business.

      Besides, he was using Charlie to his own ends, so he was in no position to make moral judgements about the girl.

      To Rafe’s annoyance, these rationalisations didn’t help. He was disappointed. Unreasonably, illogically, stupidly disappointed.

      Unfortunately, in the same short couple of days that it had taken Charlie to spend his payment, he’d allowed her—an unknown girl from the bottom of the planet—to steal under his defences.

      Thinking back over the past forty-eight hours, Rafe couldn’t believe that he’d allowed Charlie to cast a spell over him. But, surely, that must be what had happened. Somehow, despite the lectures he’d given himself, he’d allowed himself to become intrigued by the possibility that he’d discovered a rare creature—a lovely, sexy girl with genuine heart, who wasn’t a grasping opportunist.

      Foolishly, he’d decided that Charlie was different from her sister Olivia and from the other frustratingly shrewd and calculating young women in his social circles.

      Rafe had been beguiled by Charlie’s air of apparent naivety, and, even though he’d known that she wouldn’t remain in his life beyond a few short weeks, he’d wanted to thoroughly enjoy the novelty of her company while he could.

      She’d been a refreshing experience.

      Or so he’d thought.

      He consoled himself that he wasn’t the only one who’d been hoodwinked. Even his good friend, Sheikh Faysal, had been taken by Charlie and had made remarks about her sincerity.

      What had Faysal said? ‘If you play your cards correctly, I’d say your Charlie could be quite an asset.’

      Ha! They’d both been conned.

      * * *

      Charlie was nervous as she picked up the phone. As she’d hoped, it was a message from her father.

      Arrived safely. Dr Yu has assessed Isla and it’s all systems go. Surgery scheduled for nine a.m. tomorrow EDT. Thank you, darling!! Love you loads, Dad & Skye xx

      It was such a relief to hear from him. Almost immediately, Charlie could feel her shoulders relax and her breathing ease. Isla was in the best possible place, under the care of the brilliant doctors in Boston.

      But her relief brought a welling of tears and she had to close her eyes to stop them from spilling. She drew in a deep breath, and then another.

      She wasn’t ready to share this news with Rafe. It was too private, too desperately scary to talk about. And it wasn’t over yet. Poor little Isla still faced surgery and that was probably the most dangerous time of all.

      Opening her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of Rafe’s cautious, frowning expression. She supposed he’d been watching her, but as she returned to the sofa he paid studious attention to his own phone, which he slipped back into his pocket as she sat down.

      For a tense moment, neither of them spoke. And then they both spoke together.

      ‘That was a message from my father,’ Charlie said.

      ‘I was just checking the weather forecast,’ said Rafe.

      They stopped, eyed each other awkwardly.

      ‘All’s well with my family,’ offered Charlie.

      ‘There’s more snow predicted,’ said Rafe.

      Charlie managed a tiny smile. ‘At least I have a warm coat now.’

      ‘Yes.’

      She swallowed, wondering what on earth they could talk about when the mood was so strained. Rafe’s smiles had vanished. There was no chance of regaining the warmth of last evening’s conversation.

      She touched the sapphires, lying cool and solid against her throat. ‘Do these need to be returned to a vault, or something?’

      Rafe nodded. ‘I’ll see to it.’

      He sat, watching her with a hard-to-read, brooding gaze as she removed the necklace and the earrings and placed them back in their velvet-covered box. This

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