‘And playing poker.’ Yet more insight into the strangeness of Nina’s upbringing, Rafe acknowledged with a frown. Not only had she grown up alone with her father, but her only other companions during those years appeared to have been her bodyguards.
‘Only until I started winning,’ she reminded him.
‘Hmm.’ He frowned. ‘Gerry wanted me to thank you for letting your two men stand guard outside the main restaurant rather than inside it.’
‘No doubt that’s so that they can vet the people coming in.’ Nina winced. ‘I realise they can be a little intrusive.’
‘I told you not to worry about it,’ Rafe dismissed easily.
And she was trying, she really was. ‘What are we celebrating?’ She eyed the champagne curiously.
‘Life?’
Nina smiled as she lifted her glass and chinked it against his before taking an appreciative sip; she loved pink champagne, and Rafe had ordered a bottle from her absolutely favourite vineyard. Coincidentally? Or had he known beforehand?
Rafe smiled as Nina gave him a suspicious glance. ‘Guilty, as charged,’ he drawled in answer to her unspoken question. ‘I telephoned your father earlier today and asked him for the name of your favourite wine.’
Nina’s eyes widened. ‘You did?’
‘Hmm.’ Rafe rested his elbows on the table, his glass clasped loosely between his fingers as he looked at Nina through narrowed lids.
She looked absolutely stunning tonight. She wore a black sequined knee-length sheath of a dress that clung lovingly to the slenderness of her curves, but left her neck and arms bare. Only a pale green shadow on her lids, her lashes long and dark, a peachy blush to her cheeks, her lips coloured with a deeper peach lip gloss. Her hair was secured in a loose knot at her crown, leaving the long creamy column of her throat vulnerably bare.
Ironically, considering her father’s unique and priceless jewellery collection, Nina wore no jewellery this evening. There was nothing to detract from the smooth perfection of her creamy pale peach skin, just a small pair of diamond ear studs.
Rafe had been fully aware that it had been that understated elegance and beauty, in contrast to the other over-jewelled and dramatically made-up women in the restaurant, that had caught the eye of every man in the room when the two of them entered the restaurant together. In response he had placed his arm about Nina’s waist, drawing her tightly against his side as they crossed the room to their table.
Not possessively, exactly. Rafe had never felt possessive over a woman in his life. But he hadn’t wanted any of those men to be under any illusion as to who Nina was with this evening. Or to have any doubts that she would be leaving with that same man at the end of the evening too.
Was that being possessive? Hell if Rafe knew. What he did know was that he hadn’t in the least enjoyed having other men eyeing Nina so appreciatively.
She moistened those full and peach-coloured lips with a nervous sweep of her tongue. ‘You spoke to my father today...?’ she repeated slowly.
Rafe raised dark brows. ‘A courtesy call, to thank him for dinner yesterday evening.’
‘That’s all?’
He shrugged. ‘I told you, I also wanted to know the name and year of your favourite wine.’
Which, Nina accepted, all sounded innocent enough. Except last night her father had warned Rafe to stay away from her, a warning Rafe had taken exception to. And now she was expected to believe that earlier today Rafe had made a thank-you call to her father, and that her father had happily supplied the younger man with the name of her favourite wine for when he took her out to dinner this evening?
She eyed him sceptically. ‘And my father just gave it to you?’
‘Your happiness is very important to him.’ Rafe took another sip of his champagne, those predatory golden eyes quietly watchful over the rim of the glass.
‘Rafe—’
‘Relax, Nina,’ he cut in soothingly. ‘Let’s look at the menus and order our dinner,’ he added as the waiter brought the menus to their table. ‘And then, if you still want to, you can ask me more about my conversation with your father earlier today.’
Oh, Nina would still want to. Just as she couldn’t help wondering if Rafe’s telephone conversation with her father today wasn’t the reason her father had made no objections when Nina had told him of her date with Rafe D’Angelo this evening. It certainly explained her father’s lack of surprise.
‘Spit it out, Nina,’ Rafe drawled once they had made their food selections and the waiter had unobtrusively topped up their champagne glasses before leaving them alone together. ‘I can tell by your worried expression that you’re still questioning my motives for telephoning your father earlier today,’ he supplied as she glanced across at him enquiringly.