But she could hear the note of doubt in her voice and this man, sitting beside her, was responsible for that. Rafe didn’t automatically follow anybody’s rules but he had the kind of charisma that no doubt had women falling at his feet with a single glance. He’d won over a small, troubled boy who had probably never trusted anyone in his short life so far. And even Maggie had fallen for him, judging by the way she’d acted when she’d taken Penelope away to find those dry clothes.

  Instead of opening the old chest, she’d sat on the top and fanned her face with her hand, giving her a glance that had made Penelope feel she was in the company of young Charlene instead of the warm-hearted and practical woman who was in charge of Rainbow House.

  ‘I’m not a bit surprised you went upstairs at Loxbury Hall with him. I’d have been more than a bit tempted myself.’

  ‘Like’ was far too insipid a word to describe how Penelope felt about Rafe but she wasn’t going to try and analyse those strong emotions. They were dangerous. The kind of emotions that led to trouble. Shame. Sometimes, even death...

  Rafe’s voice brought the wild train of her thoughts to a crashing halt.

  ‘Did you follow all the rules today? Do you think I like you less because you didn’t?’

  She didn’t respond. There was a note in his voice that suggested he didn’t like her much anyway.

  ‘Turn in here.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ But Penelope slowed as the iron gates of Loxbury Hall came up on the left.

  Rafe pulled out his phone, punched in a few numbers and the gates began to swing open.

  She jammed on the brakes and they came to a grinding halt.

  It was quite hard to get the words out. ‘When you said you’d cleared it with the owner about going upstairs, you hadn’t actually talked to anyone, had you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Because you are the owner?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Oh, no... Penelope let her head drop onto the steering-wheel on top of her hands. Now she felt like a complete idiot. Someone who’d been played like a violin.

  ‘Um...Penny?’

  She didn’t bother to correct the use of the loathed diminutive. ‘Yeah...?’

  ‘Do you think you could get us off the road properly before someone comes along and rear-ends us? Just to the front steps would be grand.’

  * * *

  The front steps belonged to the property he’d acquired by not following all the rules. He’d got to where he was in life because he’d believed in himself, not because he’d made other people like him.

  Billy could do with a message like that.

  Not that he wanted to go anywhere near Rainbow House again. It was sorted. This was it. Time to say goodbye to Ms Penelope Collins.

  He turned towards her to do exactly that but then he hesitated. Rain beat a steady rhythm on the roof of the truck and it got suddenly heavier. A flash of lightning made Penelope jump and her eyes got even wider at the enormous crack of thunder that came almost instantly.

  ‘The storm’s right on top of us. You can’t drive in this.’ Without thinking, Rafe leaned over and pushed back a stray curl that was stuck to Penelope’s cheek. ‘Come inside till it blows over.’

  She wasn’t looking at him. And she shook her head.

  He should have left it there but he couldn’t. He knew an upset woman when he saw one. Had it been something he’d said? His hand was still close to her face and his fingers slipped under her chin to turn her head towards him. At the same time he was racking his brains to think of what it was that had sent her back into her shell. Revealing that he owned Loxbury Hall? No. That had nothing to do with her. Ah... As soon as Penelope’s gaze met his, he knew exactly what it was.

  ‘I still like you,’ he murmured. ‘Breaking the rules only made me like you more.’

  Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue appeared and then touched her top lip—as though she wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond. The gesture did something very strange to Rafe’s gut. The look in her eyes did something to his heart.

  She looked lost. Afraid, even?

  He had to kiss her. Gently. Reassuringly. To communicate something that seemed very important. And, just in case the kiss hadn’t got the message across, he spoke quietly, his lips still moving against hers.

  ‘You’re beautiful, Penny. Always believe that.’

  A complete stillness fell for a heartbeat. There was nothing but the butterfly-wing softness of that contact lingering between their lips. A feeling of connection like nothing Rafe had ever felt in his life.

  And then there was a blinding flash of light. A crack of thunder so loud it felt like the van was rocking. Penelope’s body jerked and she emitted a stifled shriek.

  That did it. Rafe moved without thinking, out of his seat and running to the driver’s side of the van. He wrenched open the door and helped Penelope out. He held her against his body and tried to shelter her inside his jacket but even in the short time it took to get across the driveway and up the steps to the front door of his house was enough for them both to be soaked all over again.

  Thank goodness for the efficient central heating in this part of the vast old house. But it wasn’t enough. Penelope was shivering.

  ‘I could get a fire started.’ He was feeling frozen himself.

  ‘Th-that would be n-nice...’

  Was the fire already set or would he have to go hunting for kindling and wood?

  ‘It could take a while.’ Which wasn’t good enough. And then inspiration struck. ‘How ’bout a hot bath?’

  ‘Oh...’ She looked for all the world as if he’d captured the moon and was offering it to her in his hands. ‘I haven’t had a bath in...in for ever. I’ve only g-got a shower at my p-place.’

  Rafe felt ten feet tall. With a decisive nod, he walked towards the staircase. ‘You’ll love my bath,’ he said. ‘It’s well big enough for two people.’

  At the foot of the stairs, he had to stop. Why wasn’t she following him? Turning his head, he smiled encouragingly and held out his hand.

  ‘You’re quite safe. I wasn’t actually suggesting that I’m intending to share your bath. I just meant that it would be big enough.’

  When she took his hand, hers felt like a small block of ice. Weird that it made him feel so warm inside.

  As if he was the one who was being given the moon?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HAVING RAFE IN a bathtub with her was crazy.

  It also seemed to be the most natural thing in the world.

  How had it happened? Penelope had been sitting there, on the closed lid of the toilet, with a big, fluffy towel around her like a shawl while Rafe supervised the filling of the enormous tub. The tap was one of those old-fashioned, wide, single types and the water rushed out with astonishing speed, filling the room with steam. Steam that became very fragrant when Rafe upended a jar of bath salts into the flow. Then he found a bottle of bubble bath and tipped that in as well.

  ‘You may as well use them up,’ he said. ‘I’m not likely to.’

  So the steam smelled gorgeous and the room was warm but Penelope could see that Rafe was shivering.

  ‘You need that bath as much as I do. More... You’ve been in wet clothes for hours.’

  ‘I’ll go and have a shower in another bathroom.’ But Rafe had turned his head on his way out and met her gaze and it felt like time had suddenly gone into slow motion. ‘Unless...?’

  And so here they were. Sitting at either end of this wonderful old, claw-footed bathtub, with Rafe slightly lopsided to avoid the tap and Penelope’s legs between his. The bubbles covered her chest enough to be perfectly decent and she kept her knees slightly bent so that her toes didn’t touch anything they shouldn’t.

  For the longest time they simply sat there in silence, soaking up the delicious warmth.

  ‘I’ve never done this before,’ she finally confessed. ‘As soon as I got old enough, I wouldn’t even let my nanny stay in the bathroom with me.’

  ‘You had a nanny?’

  Penelope swept some bubbles together with her hands and shaped them into a hill. ‘Only because my grandmother didn’t want to be a mother again. She’d done it once, she said, and that was enough.’

  ‘I hope it was a nice nanny.’

  ‘She was okay. Rita—our housekeeper—was better. She’s the one who taught me to cook and bake, and by the time I was about eight I was spending so much time in the kitchen Mother decided that the nanny was superfluous so they fired her.’

  ‘A housekeeper and a nanny. Your folks must be pretty well off.’

  ‘We only had one main bathroom and my grandparents’ room had an en suite that had a shower.’ Penelope didn’t want to talk about her family any more. Another scoop of bubbles made the hill higher. It wobbled but still provided a kind of wall and it meant she didn’t have to look at Rafe directly. ‘How many bathrooms have you got?’

  ‘Haven’t really counted.’ He sounded vaguely discomforted by the query. ‘A few, I guess.’

  Penelope laughed. ‘I’d say so.’ Her laughter seemed to diffuse the awkwardness. ‘What made you want to live here?’

  Rafe tipped his head back to rest on the curved rim of the bath. ‘I came here once when I was a kid. To a Christmas party. I thought it was the kind of house that only people with a perfect life could ever live in.’

  ‘Were your parents friends of the owners?’

  It was Rafe’s turn to laugh. ‘Are you kidding? I was one of a busload of what they called “disadvantaged” kids. The ones that went to foster homes because they wanted the extra money but then they’d get found out and the kid would get “rescued” so that somewhere better could be found. Somewhere they wouldn’t get so abused.’

  Shocked, Penelope slid a little further into the water. Her mind was back under that tree, as Clarissa and Blake’s vows had been pledged. Seeing that sadness in Rafe’s eyes as he’d told her she was one of the lucky ones.

  ‘You know what it’s like to have a family. Parents. You know what it’s like to live in that safe place...’

  Had he thought that a mansion was that kind of safe place when he’d been a little boy? That it would automatically give him a family and mean he was loved?

  Penelope wanted to cry. She wanted to reach back through time and take that little boy into her arms and give him the kind of hug that Maggie would give. She wanted to scoop him up and take him to Rainbow House—the way they’d taken Billy today.

  That explained the hero-worship, didn’t it? Had Billy sensed the connection? Somehow realised he was looking at a role model that he could never have guessed could understand what his life was like?

  Maybe her thoughts were hanging in a bubble over her head.

  ‘There weren’t any places like Rainbow House back in my day,’ Rafe said quietly. ‘I wish there had been.’ Something like a chuckle escaped. ‘Maybe then I wouldn’t have broken so many rules.’

  Penelope’s smile felt wobbly. ‘Something went right along the way. Look at where you are now. Who you are...’

  Her foot moved a little and touched Rafe’s leg. His hands must have been under the water, hidden by the layer of foam, because his fingers cupped her calf.

  ‘I’m wondering who you are,’ he said softly. ‘Every time I think I have it figured out, you go and do something else that surprises the heck out of me.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like breaking the rules. Not shopping Billy in to the cops. Going upstairs with me when you thought it wasn’t allowed.’

  Oh...help. His fingers were moving on her calf. A gentle massage that was sending tendrils of sensation higher up her leg. More were being generated deep in her belly and they were meeting in the middle in a knot that was both painful and delicious.

  ‘Is not dancing in public one of your rules, too?’

  ‘What?’ The exclamation was startled.

  ‘I saw you that day. Dancing in the maze. I was up on the balcony.’

  Penelope gasped as something clicked into place. ‘How did you know what song I was listening to?’

  ‘You left your iPod on the table in the hall. It wasn’t rocket science to check what was played most recently.’

  ‘You were spying on me.’ Penelope pulled her leg away from his touch. She gripped the side of the bath, stood up and climbed out.

  Rafe must have climbed out just as fast because he was right there as she wrapped herself in a towel and turned around. Water streamed off his naked body, taking tiny clumps of bubbles with it. He caught her arms.

  ‘Not spying,’ he said fiercely. ‘I was...intrigued.’

  The nearness of him was overwhelming. Nearness and nakedness. She could feel the heat coming off his skin. Smell something masculine that cut through the perfume of the bath salts and bubble bath. His hair hung in damp tendrils and his jaw was shadowed by stubble. And the look in his eyes was...

  ‘I still am,’ he murmured. ‘You intrigue me, Penelope Collins. No...when you get beneath the layers, I think it would be fairer to say you amaze me.’

  Penelope forgot how to breathe.

  She amazed him? On a scale of approving of somebody that was too high to be recognisable. Penelope had never amazed anybody in her life. The highest accolade had been her grandad being proud of her. A nod and even a smile from her grandmother.

  Rafe had the world at his feet. He ran a huge, successful company. He’d just bought a house that very few people could ever dream of owning. What did he see in her that could possibly amaze him? It was true, though. She could see the truth of it in the way he was looking at her.

  Was it possible for bones to actually melt for a heartbeat or two? She was still managing to stand but her fingers were losing their grip on the edges of the towel she had clutched in a bunch between her breasts.

  Rafe was still dripping wet. His fingers felt damp enough to leave a cool trail as he reached out and traced the outline of her face but coolness turned into enough heat to feel like her skin was being scorched. Across her temple and cheekbone, down the side of her nose and then over her lips, and still they hadn’t looked away from each other’s eyes. She could feel the dip to trace the bow of her top lip and then his finger seemed to catch on the cushion of her lower lip.

  She saw desire ignite in Rafe’s eyes and his face came closer. She could feel his breath on her skin. Could feel his mouth hovering over hers—no more than a hair’s breadth from touching—but it couldn’t be called kissing.

  This was something much deeper than kissing. Something that felt spiritual rather than physical. The waiting was agony but it was also the most wonderful thing Penelope had ever felt. The closeness. The knowing what was coming. The feeling of...safety? How amazing was that, that she could feel safe when she was so close to something that she knew could explode with all the ferocity and beauty of one of Rafe’s fireworks.

  The towel slipped from her fingers as his lips finally made contact. This wasn’t just one kiss. It was a thousand kisses. Tiny brushes. Fierce bursts of pressure.

  He caught her shoulders as her knees threatened to give up the struggle of keeping her upright. He lifted her. Carried her to where they needed to be.

  In his bed.

  * * *

  Rafe didn’t turn the bedside light off after he’d ripped the duvet back and placed Penelope in his bed. He wanted to see the look in her eyes as he made love to her. To see if he could catch an expression as extraordinary as the way she’d looked when he’d told her that she amazed him.

  And he wanted this to be slow. To last as long as he could make it last because—incredibly—it felt like last time, only better. Still as new and exciting as if it had been the first time ever but familiar, too.

  Safe...

  She smelled like heaven. She tasted like heaven and it had nothing to do with all the stuff he’d tipped into that bath.

  It was sex but not as he’d ever known it. This was a conversation that went past anything physical. It felt like simply a need to be together.

  And even when the passion was spent, it didn’t have to end, did it? He could hold her for a while longer. As long as she was willing to stay?

  ‘Oh, Penny...’ Rafe drew her more closely to his body, loving the way her head tucked in against his shoulder. ‘Sorry.’ His words were a murmur that got buried in her hair. ‘Penelope. I forgot how much you hate that.’

  ‘I don’t hate it when you say it.’ The husky note in her voice was full of the lingering contentment of supreme satiety.

  ‘It’s more you.’ Rafe could feel his lips curl into a smile and it felt odd—as if he’d never smiled quite like that before. ‘It’s how I’m going to think of you from now on.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘It’s like “Penelope” has extra layers of letters that hide the real stuff. And it sounds kind of...I don’t know...stilted? All professional and polished, anyway. Like you were when you came into my office that day. And how you looked in that silver dress at the wedding.’ His breath came out in a soft snort. ‘Who knew I’d end up seeing you wearing your PJs? And trackpants and a jersey with big fluffy spots on it?’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’

  He could feel the way her body tensed. He pressed his lips against her hair and willed her to relax. And it seemed to work. She sounded amused when she spoke again.

  ‘I was so embarrassed when you caught me in my pyjamas. I only do that when I think no one’s going to see me.’

  ‘When you’re being Penny instead of Penelope.’

  He felt her breasts press against his arms as she sighed. ‘My best friend at school called me Penny for a while but I made her stop.’

  ‘Why?’