Read The Purest of Diamonds? for Free Online
Authors: Susan Stephens
herself, was it likely Britt and Eva would imagine she’d had hot monkey sex with Raffa Leon?
Absolutely not!
So what did she have to worry about?
She could relax.
Britt and Eva stared first at Raffa, and then at their sister. ‘Well,’ Britt said, smiling as they greeted her. ‘Here you are, Leila.’ She exchanged an arch-browed look with Eva.
‘I’m really sorry we missed the reception upstairs,’ Leila began, slipping easily back into the role of peacemaker, ‘but—’
‘But we got talking,’ Raffa intervened smoothly.
‘I’m sure you did,’ Eva agreed dryly.
‘We were in the lounge,’ Leila chipped in.
‘Of course you were,’ Britt agreed.
Raffa was right. They were never going to believe her. She glanced at him, only for Raffa to give her an amused and conspiratorial look. Let the teasing begin, he’d said. But let’s not overdo it, her eyes begged him as her sisters sat down. This was Eva’s special night, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.
Raffa returned her look with a reassuring expression. She’d never had a co-conspirator before. And it was quite incredible to think she belonged with such a party of swans, Leila mused as everyone started talking at once. Eva looked off-the-scale stunning, with her long, flame-red hair caught back on either side of her beautiful face with glittering diamond combs, her fabulous figure displayed in a floor-length, body-hugging gown of flesh-coloured lace, embellished with tiny crystals. And the heat flying between Eva and Count Roman Quisvada, the man she would marry tomorrow, was off the scale.
Would a man ever look at her that way? Leila wondered as she turned her attention to Britt, whose husband, Sheikh Sharif, was currently shooting intensely personal messages into his wife’s eyes. With her icy Nordic looks, imposing height and slender figure, Britt was the perfect foil for her Arabian prince, and there was such closeness between them, Leila couldn’t help but feel wistful.
There was such an overload of glamour at their table they were the focus of the room. Three amazing-looking men, two fabulous-looking women...and Leila. Her sisters set a standard she couldn’t hope to compete with, but for one night, with Raffa at her side, she was going to give it a shot.
‘Would you like me to help you choose from the menu, Leila?’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close.
Britt and Eva were instantly on alert, but she felt obliged to point out, ‘It’s a fixed menu.’
‘So it is,’ Raffa agreed, not losing eye contact with her for a moment.
It was going to be hard remembering this was just pretence, but a glance at her sisters reassured her they were convinced.
‘Would you like me to read the menu out to you?’ Raffa now suggested.
‘Yes, please,’ she said, sitting back with the air of a woman for whom men peeled grapes.
Britt and Eva had designed the menu between them and Leila soon realised that her sisters had chosen food which was impossible to eat without appearing provocative—a look Leila was keen to avoid tonight, even if her intention was to tease them, as she had to balance the game with not taking things too far with Raffa.
The appetiser was a small baked cheese drizzled with truffle oil on a bed of salad leaves...
‘Don’t you like cheese, Leila?’
As Raffa asked the question Britt and Eva stared at her. She loved cheese and they knew it. Britt had probably designed this first course with Leila’s preferences in mind. But the thought of all that soft, warm cheese glistening on her lips—
‘Shall we swap plates?’ Raffa suggested.
She lifted the plate. He reached for it, and their fingers touched. Heat exploded inside her. Her gasp could probably be heard in the car park.
‘I love a man with a healthy appetite,’ Britt commented, flashing a look at Eva.
‘What’s the matter, baby sister?’ Eva contributed, picking up the virtual ball Britt had just lobbed across the net. ‘Not enough hot food for
Absolutely not!
So what did she have to worry about?
She could relax.
Britt and Eva stared first at Raffa, and then at their sister. ‘Well,’ Britt said, smiling as they greeted her. ‘Here you are, Leila.’ She exchanged an arch-browed look with Eva.
‘I’m really sorry we missed the reception upstairs,’ Leila began, slipping easily back into the role of peacemaker, ‘but—’
‘But we got talking,’ Raffa intervened smoothly.
‘I’m sure you did,’ Eva agreed dryly.
‘We were in the lounge,’ Leila chipped in.
‘Of course you were,’ Britt agreed.
Raffa was right. They were never going to believe her. She glanced at him, only for Raffa to give her an amused and conspiratorial look. Let the teasing begin, he’d said. But let’s not overdo it, her eyes begged him as her sisters sat down. This was Eva’s special night, and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.
Raffa returned her look with a reassuring expression. She’d never had a co-conspirator before. And it was quite incredible to think she belonged with such a party of swans, Leila mused as everyone started talking at once. Eva looked off-the-scale stunning, with her long, flame-red hair caught back on either side of her beautiful face with glittering diamond combs, her fabulous figure displayed in a floor-length, body-hugging gown of flesh-coloured lace, embellished with tiny crystals. And the heat flying between Eva and Count Roman Quisvada, the man she would marry tomorrow, was off the scale.
Would a man ever look at her that way? Leila wondered as she turned her attention to Britt, whose husband, Sheikh Sharif, was currently shooting intensely personal messages into his wife’s eyes. With her icy Nordic looks, imposing height and slender figure, Britt was the perfect foil for her Arabian prince, and there was such closeness between them, Leila couldn’t help but feel wistful.
There was such an overload of glamour at their table they were the focus of the room. Three amazing-looking men, two fabulous-looking women...and Leila. Her sisters set a standard she couldn’t hope to compete with, but for one night, with Raffa at her side, she was going to give it a shot.
‘Would you like me to help you choose from the menu, Leila?’ Raffa murmured, leaning in close.
Britt and Eva were instantly on alert, but she felt obliged to point out, ‘It’s a fixed menu.’
‘So it is,’ Raffa agreed, not losing eye contact with her for a moment.
It was going to be hard remembering this was just pretence, but a glance at her sisters reassured her they were convinced.
‘Would you like me to read the menu out to you?’ Raffa now suggested.
‘Yes, please,’ she said, sitting back with the air of a woman for whom men peeled grapes.
Britt and Eva had designed the menu between them and Leila soon realised that her sisters had chosen food which was impossible to eat without appearing provocative—a look Leila was keen to avoid tonight, even if her intention was to tease them, as she had to balance the game with not taking things too far with Raffa.
The appetiser was a small baked cheese drizzled with truffle oil on a bed of salad leaves...
‘Don’t you like cheese, Leila?’
As Raffa asked the question Britt and Eva stared at her. She loved cheese and they knew it. Britt had probably designed this first course with Leila’s preferences in mind. But the thought of all that soft, warm cheese glistening on her lips—
‘Shall we swap plates?’ Raffa suggested.
She lifted the plate. He reached for it, and their fingers touched. Heat exploded inside her. Her gasp could probably be heard in the car park.
‘I love a man with a healthy appetite,’ Britt commented, flashing a look at Eva.
‘What’s the matter, baby sister?’ Eva contributed, picking up the virtual ball Britt had just lobbed across the net. ‘Not enough hot food for