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Authors: Susan Stephens
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haven’t.’ Leila looked at Elena with renewed interest. The young girl was very pretty.
And why was she behaving like a jealous lover? It was time to put this pointless longing for Raffa Leon out of her head for good.
But how could she ever cut him out of her life now?
Elena interrupted Leila’s thoughts with some more information about the castle. ‘It’s not forbidding at all. Don Leon has done so much of the work himself and he invites his staff each year for a party so we can see how the work is progressing. He’s such a generous man.’
So much for the press dubbing him ruthless. Turmoil at the thought that this was the man Leila had always dreamed of fathering the child she had always longed for, combined with the guilt she felt at not having been able to locate Raffa before she arrived to let him know she had just discovered she was pregnant, was making her edgy and frustrated.
‘I believe Don Leon’s design studios are over here on the island?’ she babbled, as if she didn’t know they were, in a hopeless attempt to take her mind off the man and the consequences of their one night of passion.
‘We’ll fly over them soon. Is that where you’ll be working?’ Elena asked pleasantly.
Thankfully, Elena couldn’t know about the turmoil in Leila’s mind. ‘Most probably.’
She couldn’t even be sure of that. She had sent repeated mails to Raffa’s headquarters in an attempt to contact him, and had finally introduced herself to his team via HR, but when she explained her ideas for an exhibition in Skavanga, she was told Don Leon would decide her agenda. But where was he? No one would tell her, and her tireless investigations had drawn a blank.
‘And there he is,’ Elena exclaimed, shocking Leila back into the present.
As the jet touched down and screamed along the runway Leila had the briefest glimpse of an unmistakeable figure. Lounging back against a Jeep, Raffa Leon, exactly as she remembered him: powerful, hard, self-avowed bachelor by preference, a man who had no intention of having children to disturb his smooth-running life.
If only he’d sent a driver so she could have had some time to compose herself. She longed to see him again, but dreaded this first meeting. She dreaded what she might see in Raffa’s eyes. Nothing would be terrible. Intuition would be worse. She had to tell him her news before he could find out for himself.
And what would Raffa see in her eyes? Guilt? He would want to know why she hadn’t told him the moment she knew she was pregnant. Why she hadn’t emblazoned it in the sky. ‘I had to speak to you in person’ would sound lame in the face of the shock he was going to get.
Pausing at the top of the aircraft steps, she braced herself for their first encounter. ‘How often are these flights?’ she asked the young flight attendant as Raffa closed the distance between them in a few long strides.
‘We fly whenever Don Leon sends for the plane,’ Elena explained. ‘There is no other way off the island. No ferries could possibly dock in the north. As you’ve seen, the coastline is too rugged. And the south is all helicopters and private yachts—most of which belong to Don Leon, or to his company.’
So she was stuck on Raffa’s island, with no way off, other than with his permission. Why hadn’t she thought ahead about this, and arranged to meet him on neutral ground?
‘Leila...’
Too late now.
The familiar voice washed over her, the rich, deep tones disarming her and making her forget everything except seeing Raffa again, though she registered now that his manner was carefully judged and disappointingly neutral.
‘Raffa...’
Coming down the steps, she extended her hand to greet him, matching his businesslike manner with a cool air of her own. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘And you, Leila.’
He ignored her hand and removed his sunglasses.
That penetrating stare... Those incredible eyes could search her soul. Could he see the
And why was she behaving like a jealous lover? It was time to put this pointless longing for Raffa Leon out of her head for good.
But how could she ever cut him out of her life now?
Elena interrupted Leila’s thoughts with some more information about the castle. ‘It’s not forbidding at all. Don Leon has done so much of the work himself and he invites his staff each year for a party so we can see how the work is progressing. He’s such a generous man.’
So much for the press dubbing him ruthless. Turmoil at the thought that this was the man Leila had always dreamed of fathering the child she had always longed for, combined with the guilt she felt at not having been able to locate Raffa before she arrived to let him know she had just discovered she was pregnant, was making her edgy and frustrated.
‘I believe Don Leon’s design studios are over here on the island?’ she babbled, as if she didn’t know they were, in a hopeless attempt to take her mind off the man and the consequences of their one night of passion.
‘We’ll fly over them soon. Is that where you’ll be working?’ Elena asked pleasantly.
Thankfully, Elena couldn’t know about the turmoil in Leila’s mind. ‘Most probably.’
She couldn’t even be sure of that. She had sent repeated mails to Raffa’s headquarters in an attempt to contact him, and had finally introduced herself to his team via HR, but when she explained her ideas for an exhibition in Skavanga, she was told Don Leon would decide her agenda. But where was he? No one would tell her, and her tireless investigations had drawn a blank.
‘And there he is,’ Elena exclaimed, shocking Leila back into the present.
As the jet touched down and screamed along the runway Leila had the briefest glimpse of an unmistakeable figure. Lounging back against a Jeep, Raffa Leon, exactly as she remembered him: powerful, hard, self-avowed bachelor by preference, a man who had no intention of having children to disturb his smooth-running life.
If only he’d sent a driver so she could have had some time to compose herself. She longed to see him again, but dreaded this first meeting. She dreaded what she might see in Raffa’s eyes. Nothing would be terrible. Intuition would be worse. She had to tell him her news before he could find out for himself.
And what would Raffa see in her eyes? Guilt? He would want to know why she hadn’t told him the moment she knew she was pregnant. Why she hadn’t emblazoned it in the sky. ‘I had to speak to you in person’ would sound lame in the face of the shock he was going to get.
Pausing at the top of the aircraft steps, she braced herself for their first encounter. ‘How often are these flights?’ she asked the young flight attendant as Raffa closed the distance between them in a few long strides.
‘We fly whenever Don Leon sends for the plane,’ Elena explained. ‘There is no other way off the island. No ferries could possibly dock in the north. As you’ve seen, the coastline is too rugged. And the south is all helicopters and private yachts—most of which belong to Don Leon, or to his company.’
So she was stuck on Raffa’s island, with no way off, other than with his permission. Why hadn’t she thought ahead about this, and arranged to meet him on neutral ground?
‘Leila...’
Too late now.
The familiar voice washed over her, the rich, deep tones disarming her and making her forget everything except seeing Raffa again, though she registered now that his manner was carefully judged and disappointingly neutral.
‘Raffa...’
Coming down the steps, she extended her hand to greet him, matching his businesslike manner with a cool air of her own. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
‘And you, Leila.’
He ignored her hand and removed his sunglasses.
That penetrating stare... Those incredible eyes could search her soul. Could he see the
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