The Purest of Diamonds? Read Free

definite physical response.
    ‘Come,’ he said, forging a passage for her through the crowd. ‘Let’s get you sorted out so you can enjoy the party.’
    Leila bit her lip to hide her smile. The thought of Raffa Leon ‘sorting her out’ was rather appealing. Thank goodness she had more sense.
    There was one good thing about all this. Everyone was so busy staring at Raffa as they walked through the lobby that no one noticed Leila, or the mud on her clothes.
    Shame on you, Leila Skavanga! Wasn’t this supposed to be your breakout year?
    Pegged as the dreamer of the family—the youngest, the quietest, the peacemaker—if she was ever going to break out of that safe, cosy mould, she had to change, and she had to change now. But not all those changes had to happen tonight. In fact, it would be safer if they didn’t. When she had made that promise to herself that she would change, and that she could change, she hadn’t factored the devil at her side into the equation. Don Rafael Leon, the Duke of Cantalabria, to give Raffa his full title, was not the sort of man to practise anything on. She had set her heart on finding the modern-day equivalent of a pipe and slippers man—someone undemanding and kind. Someone safe. And Raffa Leon was not safe.
    So what about his chivalry towards her?
    Innate politeness, she decided. Even great whites had the decency to circle you before they struck.
    She exclaimed as Raffa grabbed her hands to draw her in front of him beneath the searching light of one of the hotel’s glittering chandeliers.
    ‘ Dios, Leila! This is worse than I thought!’
    Standing back, he stared long and hard at her ruined clothes, while she was only capable of registering the unaccustomed heat flooding through her.
    ‘Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?’ Raffa demanded.
    ‘No, not at all...’ She just wanted to stand there for a moment longer, enjoying the heat and strength in his hands. How cold and limp hers must seem by comparison, she thought, tightening her grip. She quickly released her grip, realising she had given Raffa entirely the wrong message.
    ‘Well, I’m not going to let you out of my sight tonight,’ he said with a hint of humour in his eyes as if he knew how awkward she felt having touched him. ‘We can’t risk any more accidents.’
    ‘Agreed,’ she murmured, still staring at him like a loon.
    ‘The restroom, Leila?’
    ‘Of course.’ Mentally, she shook herself. ‘And, really, I’m fine—I can handle it.’
    ‘Can you?’
    ‘Without you,’ she confirmed pleasantly.
    So ignore my wishes, she thought as Raffa drew her by the hand across the lobby, where the crowd parted for him like the Red Sea.
    ‘I’m sure you’ve got places to be, people to meet, Raffa.’
    ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Right here with you, making sure the rest of your evening goes better than the start has. And you’re not keeping me, Leila. Any excuse to avoid a night of small talk with people I don’t know, don’t want to know and will never see again.’ At this point he gave a delicious Latin shrug that drew her gaze to the width of his shoulders. ‘Getting away from the crowd is great for me, Leila.’
    She’d felt exactly the same when she’d left the house, but only because she was so shy in a crowd of people she didn’t know, which surely couldn’t be Raffa’s problem.
    ‘I’ve been thinking back to Britt’s wedding,’ Raffa admitted as they waited their turn in the queue for the cloakroom. ‘I remember you playing tag with those tiny flower girls. You did a great job of keeping them entertained.’
    ‘I enjoyed it too,’ she admitted. ‘I’m afraid sophistication is not my middle name.’
    ‘Some might call it charming, Leila.’
    Her secret was out. She loved children. In fact, she loved children and animals more than most adults outside her family, because they were straightforward and she wasn’t good at playing mind games.
    ‘Our turn,’ Raffa prompted with his hand in