‘I do not want to!’
‘She does want to,’ Chloe said with authority to Rafe. ‘It will do her good. She needs to get out more.’
‘I swear to God I’m going to—’
‘So it’s a date,’ Rafe said. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven. I thought we could go to that new restaurant in the next village everyone is talking about.’
‘I’m not go—’
‘What should she wear?’ Chloe said before Poppy could finish spluttering her protest.
‘Surprise me.’ He gave them both a smile and walked back out the door.
‘You’re fired,’ Poppy said, flashing Chloe another deadly glare.
‘You don’t mean that,’ Chloe said. ‘Anyway, what could be more perfect than going to Oliver’s restaurant with the seriously rich, staggeringly handsome Rafe Caffarelli as your date? How cool a payback is that? I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that two-timing pig sees you walking in on Rafe’s arm. It’s a perfect way to show him you’re over him.’
‘I didn’t have to get over him in the first place,’ Poppy said, folding her arms across her chest.
‘Sure you didn’t.’ Chloe gave her another knowing look. ‘You cried your heart out for a week. And you ate a whole cheesecake.’
‘Half a cheesecake.’ Poppy scowled at her. ‘And I only cried because I really wanted to have someone in my life...someone to belong to. Ever since Gran died, I feel like I don’t belong to anyone any more.’
Chloe gave her a big squishy hug. ‘You belong to this village, Poppy. Everyone loves you. We’re your family now.’
* * *
Poppy chewed at her lip as she walked back to the kitchen. Maybe Chloe was right—it would be a good way to demonstrate to Oliver she had moved on.
But Rafe Caffarelli?
He was crafty and clever. Everything he did was with a specific purpose in mind. She knew he wanted her house, but what if it wasn’t just the house he had set his mind to possess?
Especially after that explosive kiss...
She refused to think about that kiss. She had tried to block it from her mind. Every time she thought of it she cringed at how willing she had been, almost desperate, practically hanging off him like a limpet, before he’d put her from him.
She couldn’t make him out. He had bought her shop, yet he hadn’t raised the rent and had told her he wasn’t going to. Could she trust him not to suddenly change his mind? Was he trying to charm her by stealth?
He could hardly be in doubt of her attraction to him now. She tried her best to hide it but he was so damnably attractive! His casually tousled hair and the dark stubble on his jaw would have looked dishevelled or scruffy on someone else. On him it looked sexy and it made her fingers twitch to reach up and thread through those dark, silky strands or to stroke that chiselled plane of his jaw.
And his mouth... She gulped as she thought of the contours of his lips, how they were so finely sculptured and yet so utterly masculine; how he had tasted; so warm and yet so fresh. Would he kiss her again? Was that why he was taking her out to dinner? Would she have the strength of will to resist him?
Of course.
She’d been caught off-guard before. He had taken advantage of her momentary lapse of concentration. She would be better prepared this time. He could dazzle her with whatever strength of charm he liked.
She was back in control.
* * *
Rafe pulled up at the dower house just at seven. There was a cacophony of mad barking from inside the house as he raised his hand to the knocker. He heard Poppy shushing the dogs with limited success and then she opened the door.
‘You look...’ He was momentarily lost for words. ‘Amazing.’
She was wearing a slim black cocktail dress that was simple but elegant, highlighting her trim figure without in any way exploiting it. The subtle sexiness was heart-stopping. Rafe swore his heart actually did miss a beat. She had her hair up in one of those artful twists that looked both casual and elegant at the same time. She had a simple string of pearls around her graceful neck and matching earrings, that he suspected weren’t terribly expensive, but with her creamy skin as a backdrop they looked as if they had just come out of a bank vault. Her make-up was light and yet it highlighted every one of her girl-next-door features: the high cheekbones, the cinnamon-brown eyes and the perfect bow of her mouth, which had a fine layer of shimmery gloss on it.
He still couldn’t get his mind to stop revisiting that kiss. It was on permanent replay in his head. He couldn’t remember a time when a kiss had affected him so much. He had kissed dozens, probably hundreds of women. But something about Poppy Silverton’s sweet mouth melting into his had sent an arrow of longing deep inside him that had nagged at him like a toothache ever since.