A Touch of Notoriety - By Carole Mortimer Page 0,38

Lawrence’s graveside for almost two hours. No wonder Raphael had suggested it was time for them to leave!

And she didn’t really want to return to Cesar’s Hampshire estate just yet, knowing that Raphael would then feel obliged to telephone the Navarro family and tell them about their visit to Stopley and Elizabeth Lawrence’s grave.

Not that she was in the least hungry, either—in fact, Beth felt slightly sick!—but she was more than willing to pretend to eat an early dinner if it meant a delay in returning to Hampshire and Raphael’s phone call to Cesar. A glass of wine, or two, would be more than welcome, too. ‘Does that mean that Kevin Maddox still hasn’t managed to employ a cook for the estate?’ she attempted to tease.

‘I have no idea,’ Raphael dismissed tightly. ‘I just thought that you might prefer it if we did not return there just yet.’

And, as usual, he had thought correctly. Strange how well Raphael had come to know her in such a short time.

‘An early dinner sounds lovely, thank you,’ she accepted huskily.

‘I’ll stop at the next suitable place I see.’ Raphael nodded grimly, having been well aware of the tumult of thoughts that had been going through Beth’s beautiful head since they left Stopley. Strained as his relationship was with his own father, Raphael had always known exactly who he was and what was expected of him, and couldn’t even begin to relate to the confusion of emotions Beth must be feeling right now. Sadness at the death of the real two-year-old Elizabeth Lawrence, and the added trauma of having to accept what Beth had tried so hard to deny: that she really was the missing Gabriela Navarro, daughter of Esther and Carlos Navarro, and sister of Cesar Navarro.

Although she seemed to put that confusion firmly to the back of her mind as Raphael opened the car door for her a few minutes later outside the olde worlde country inn he had chosen to stop at. ‘Nice.’ She smiled her approval as she straightened beside him.

Raphael was more aware of Beth’s disturbing presence beside him than he was the charm or otherwise of the country inn. Her hair smelt of the tartness of lemons, and although her face was still unnaturally pale it was also ethereally beautiful, and her slender and sensuous curves were shown to advantage in the brown fitted sweater and trousers.

She turned to look up at him when she received no reply to her comment, her breath catching in her throat as she obviously saw that awareness burning in Raphael’s eyes as he found himself unable to look away from her. ‘Would you please kiss me, Raphael?’ she invited huskily as she took a step closer to him.

‘Why?’

‘Honestly?’

‘Yes.’

Her eyes darkened. ‘Because I want—need to know I exist, Raphael. To know that I’m still me!’

It was a plea that Raphael was unable to deny as he felt those soft and warm curves pressing against him, his gaze continuing to hold Beth’s as his head slowly lowered and he captured those full and sensuous lips beneath his own, before his arms moved about her waist and he moulded those soft pliable curves against his much harder ones.

It had been his intention to kiss her gently, to offer her the comfort rather than passion, but those intentions evaporated at the first taste of Beth’s lips, Raphael giving a low groan of his own need as the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into the heat of her mouth as the hardness of his arousal fitted snugly against the heated well between Beth’s thighs—

‘Maybe the two of you should get a room?’ an indulgently teasing voice suggested lightly.

Raphael pulled back sharply to look down at Beth searchingly for several seconds before he turned to face the middle-aged man standing behind them. ‘I apologise.’ He bowed stiffly as he grasped Beth’s arm and moved her slightly aside from where they were blocking the doorway.

‘No problem,’ the older man assured him dismissively. ‘I might have been tempted to do the same with such a pretty young lady.’

He gave them a smiling nod before entering the inn.

‘Well, that was...a little embarrassing,’ Beth dismissed ruefully, her gaze avoiding meeting Raphael’s as she turned and briskly followed the other man inside the intimacy of the inn.

Raphael followed more slowly, his mouth tightening as the older man, now standing at the bar ordering a drink, nodded to him in passing as the waitress took them to a table looking out onto the gardens.

He