Читать книгу Modern Romance January Books 5-8 - Heidi Rice - Страница 17

RAFAEL VITALE WANTED to stay right where he was, for ever. Damned if he wasn’t utterly amazed. Damned if he wasn’t a greedy, selfish man who’d taken what she’d offered and then some. He shouldn’t have. He should’ve stopped the second she’d revealed her startling virginity secret. But he’d had too much of a taste of her.

He’d tried to go slow, to be gentle, but she hadn’t been slow or gentle with him. She’d been powerful—responsive, passionate, as strong as she was soft. When he’d lost his head, she’d come with him. It had been a rougher ride than he’d intended. But stalling his own orgasm to past the point of torture so he could revel in her unrestrained response had led to a passionate release he hadn’t been able to control. So much faster, so much more physical than he’d planned. Yet it had been the best sex of his very experienced life and listening to her struggle to catch her breath now was intensely satisfying.

He lifted his head—seeing her ravished beauty was nothing short of an onslaught on his soul. She regarded him solemnly, all wide eyes, her lips kiss-swollen parted as she panted raggedly. Her creamy skin was reddened in patches from where his stubble had rasped and from where his teeth had nipped. Her hair was free of that braid and mussed, fragments of crushed petals were stuck to her.

She looked thoroughly well used—and glowing from that surge of electricity that a woman only got from climaxing. And Gracie had come more than once while he’d been locked fast inside her. Sensation rippled out from the base of his spine—pure masculine pleasure and pride. And lust. All over again.

Within the dazed glaze of her warm brown eyes a new awareness flickered. As he studied her, it built—blossoming into a bright sparkle. And then she smiled.

‘Can we do that again?’ she said.

It was both shy request and husky order—one he had no ability to ignore. Because what should have been impossible was now undeniable. Desire resurged, sizzling him inside out and stiffening every inch of his body. He pulled out of her swiftly and propelled himself to his feet, then reached for her. Hoisting her into his arms, he strode towards the villa.

‘Rafe?’

‘Shower. Bed,’ he said briskly. ‘Together. Now.’

‘Oh.’ That kittenish smile widened. ‘Okay.’

But by the time he’d carried her to the master bedroom, his inner alarm bells were back online and ringing hard. The intensity he felt with her wasn’t normal. To have taken her in such a risky location? With such speed?

Lust, he rationalised. Just lust.

But she looked so tousled, still dazed, still innocent even as awareness edged into her eyes. He was suddenly concerned for her. He was not boyfriend material.

‘You understand I don’t do relationships, Gracie,’ he said, carrying her into the large bathroom and setting her on her feet in the shower space.

She leaned against the back wall and looked at him with that wide-open warmth. ‘It was that bad with your parents?’ she asked softly.

She’d been disarmingly honest with him.

‘My mother was fifty-odd years younger than my father,’ he said gruffly, turning to flick on the shower. ‘She was the gold-digger who seduced the senile old man for his money and got pregnant to secure the fortune.’

When he turned back, she was still looking at him solemnly. ‘That’s what people said to you?’

That and far worse. Of course, he was echoing the slurs of others. It was the description of those who’d judged her—and by default how they’d judged him too. ‘It doesn’t matter what they said.’

‘I know how people can bully,’ she said. ‘Of course it matters.’

He’d been able to handle the words. It had been the actions of bullies that had been worse. And the worst bully of all had been his half-brother.

‘And it wasn’t true, was it?’ she said softly. ‘That’s why it hurt, because you couldn’t defend them. She wasn’t a gold-digger, he wasn’t senile.’

‘Well, she definitely wasn’t rich.’ He smiled and turned her so he could soap her back. ‘And he was old.’

‘But they cared about each other?’

‘For what good it did them, yes.’

‘She made him happy.’

‘But the reaction of his older children didn’t,’ he countered. ‘And then they made her life hell.’

‘And, by extension, yours?’

He nodded. ‘After he died, they sent me away to a school as far away as they could find.’ He felt her soften beneath his hands—but he didn’t want her pity.

‘It wasn’t all bad,’ he added roughly. ‘I learned how to be independent. How to survive, how to succeed.’

‘But what happened to your mum?’

He released her. She faced him before he could formulate a deflection.

‘She died,’ he said baldly.

How was he standing here, completely naked, talking to this woman about something he never discussed with anyone? He loathed thinking about it and he certainly never shared it. Certainly not with a one-night stand. Which was all this was. But she’d been honest with him and somehow that stuff had just spilled out and the weird thing was he didn’t regret it. But he couldn’t tell her more—not about his mother.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, well.’ He reached past her to turn off the shower. ‘It wasn’t like you had it that much better.’ He still couldn’t get over the childhood she’d had. ‘How can you still believe that a relationship could ever last?’

‘How can you choose to live a life that’s so hopeless?’

‘Hopeless?’ He laughed and draped a towel around her shoulders. ‘Because I don’t want marriage and two kids?’

‘It should be at least four kids,’ she told him with a cheeky smile.

‘Four?’ He shuddered and pulled her into the bedroom. ‘And that’s how people get trapped. They hurt each other because they settle, they stay together too long.’

‘That’s not why they hurt each other,’ she argued. ‘People grow and change and sometimes they don’t grow together. Sometimes they’re scared. Sometimes they’re mean. Sometimes they’re mean because they’re scared.’ She shrugged and inadvertently almost lost the towel. ‘I sure don’t have all the answers, but loss is a part of life,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t mean we give up trying for anything meaningful.’

‘No, we don’t give up trying for anything enjoyable. You plan for the end at the beginning.’ He walked forward, backing her up to his bed.

‘Your short time frames.’

‘I’ve found it’s more fun that way—short and sweet. Then there’s no confusion.’ He gave her a nudge so she fell onto his bed.

Like this, one night. Because never again would he have what was his stolen from him. Never again would he be vulnerable and at the mercy of other people’s whims. He called the shots. He remained in control. And he’d remain in control now.

To his delight, she didn’t just sit on the bed, she lay right back.

‘Do you have a contract and everything before you sleep with a woman?’ She all but batted her lashes at him.

He laughed, enjoying her teasing and her honesty. ‘I don’t need to. A conversation is usually sufficient.’

‘Is it?’ she asked. ‘And there are no disappointed, hurt lovers in your past?’

He looked at her, his amusement easing. ‘It’s not my fault if a woman changes her expectations halfway through. I’m always upfront about what I’m offering.’

‘And what you want never changes?’

He shook his head and knelt on the bed. ‘I’m very certain about what I want from life.’

‘How wonderful for you.’ She cupped his jaw. ‘I think you’re missing out.’

‘Says the inexperienced romantic in the room.’ He leaned down and kissed her. ‘Don’t think you can change me, Gracie. That’s how some of those women in my past might have been hurt.’

‘You’re immutable. Got it.’ She tilted her chin at him. ‘But don’t you think you can change me either. I don’t need toughening up.’ She pressed her fingertip to his chest. ‘I’m more resilient than you.’

‘How do you figure that?’

‘At least I’m not afraid to take a chance on someone. I’m not afraid to put my heart out there.’

He leaned forward, letting her nail press harder into his skin. ‘And here’s where you discover my secret, Gracie. I don’t have a heart.’ He refused to feel anything there.

‘Of course you do,’ she scoffed, gently splaying her soft hand right across his ribs, feeling for herself. ‘If you didn’t have a heart, you wouldn’t be alive. You can’t hide from being human, you can’t always stay safe.’

‘I know how to stay safe.’ He distracted her with a nip to her neck.

‘By keeping yourself busy buying new things? More properties to rattle about in?’

‘By keeping myself busy with all the things I enjoy. Including this.’

‘Well, maybe you should stop talking and get busy again. If you’re granting me only a short amount of your amazing company, let’s not waste another second.’ She whipped the towel off him.

He glowered at her as she laughed up at him. ‘You’re a brat.’

She only laughed again. ‘Oh, no, you’re the brat. But fortunately for you, you’re good at this sex thing. And I want more of it. Now, please.’

It was the ‘please’ that got him—a little breathless, a hint of shyness beneath that unloaded, simple request. She got what this was and what it wasn’t.

He couldn’t get close enough, fast enough, couldn’t extract enough of those sighs from her. He’d torment her with unbearable pleasure. He was energised to make it even better, wanting to prove to her just how damn good this could be. He’d forget about his own pleasure entirely. Yet it happened anyway—he was the hottest he’d ever been for a woman. And somehow he lost control of the situation all over again. In the friction between them, he burned too hot, too quick, just as she did all over again.

All his intentions blurred as his brain scattered. There was only movement, only feeling, only blistering need. Until he felt her trembling and heard her scream as she shuddered in his arms. He clutched her closer and roared in primal satisfaction, his body utterly spent, before the world around him went black.

Rafe woke slowly, blinking a few times as he registered the pleasant discomfort of his muscles—yet already desire was priming them again, loosening and tightening simultaneously, prepping for a session of slow wake-up sex. He sensed the hour was early—perfect for one last taste before she left. Except it would be unwise. It would be simpler, safer for her to leave without another round, given her inexperience. Yeah, the sooner she left, the better.

His body thought otherwise. With a low, lazy groan he rolled to face her, only to discover she wasn’t beside him. He reached over to feel the cool sheet. As he was about to call out, she walked into the room, completely dressed. He stared uncomprehendingly. She’d showered and he hadn’t woken?

‘Why are you up?’ Disappointment washed over him.

‘I’m late for work.’ She bit her lip but her smile was still radiant. ‘I should have left half an hour ago but I’m hoping Francesca won’t mind because I came up with the most amazing idea for a new filling overnight.’

He stared at her. She’d been thinking overnight? When had she had the time to think?

‘So I’ve got to dash but I’m glad you woke up. I didn’t want to hunt for paper to leave you a note.’

She’d been going to leave without saying goodbye? She didn’t want to stay in bed with him? She wasn’t bothered that the night was over?

‘That was really, really good. Honestly,’ she added in her nonstop way. ‘Thank you so much. It was a once-in-a-lifetime amazing experience.’

Her compliment didn’t give him the satisfied feeling she doubtless meant it to. Instead, he felt like some stud who’d just got full marks for best in show.

‘You’re leaving right now?’ he growled as she stayed out of kissing reach.

‘Yes. There’s so much to do at work. I can’t let Francesca down.’

Of course she couldn’t. ‘And you’re okay? No regrets?’

‘Oh, no, it was amazing.’ She fanned her face and smiled that shy yet sassy smile. ‘But one night only.’ She turned away, nodding furiously as if convincing herself. ‘That was your stipulation and I accept that. There’s no point in wishing otherwise anyway, that wouldn’t be helpful to me.’

She looked beautiful and fresh and horrendously prepared to go to work. How could she think about anything other than wanting to get back into bed with him right this second?

‘Why wouldn’t it be helpful to you?’ he asked, surliness curling inside.

Her smile deepened. ‘It just wouldn’t.’

Here she was happily enforcing his rule, but while he’d got what he’d said he wanted, the fact that someone else had called it meant he now wanted the exact opposite. And here he was thinking he was so grown-up and over all the denials of his childhood. Back then the second someone had told him he couldn’t have something, he’d wanted it, and he’d done whatever it took to get it. But this time was worse than any other. He grabbed her wrist before she could step completely out of reach.

‘I’m not able to be as adult as you about this,’ he said huskily. ‘How’s that for some honesty?’

A wary look entered her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that while I don’t want this to be anything more, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to leave my bed just yet.’

Her smile blossomed, jerking every one of his muscles to stiffer attention. Killing him. But he could feel her pulse skipping faster every second she studied him.

‘Thank you for that compliment.’ Her voice was a little husky. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it too, but I really can’t be late,’ she said. ‘There’s too much to do.’

There was too much to do—everything with her all over again. He caught her quick glance down his body and he leaned closer. But then she flicked her hand, twisting free of his grip.

‘I must go.’ She shook her head. ‘There are many, so many...other things I have to do. I had this idea and I think it will work...’

He realised, belatedly, that she was breathlessly babbling her way out of his room. Nervous, embarrassed...emotional.

His lovers always said yes to him, always jumped when he asked them to. But not Gracie. She was getting away the only way she knew how, and even though five minutes ago he’d been ready to rush through any awkward goodbye and hustle her out of the house, he now found her awkwardness endearing. And at the realisation she was actually leaving, he felt oddly bereft.

‘Sorry.’ She rushed her words. ‘Really do have to run.’

But the parting smile she flashed at him wasn’t sorry, it was shy and grateful and he wanted to kiss her. Instead, all he did was blink at the empty doorway.

The silence echoed long after he’d heard the front door close behind her.

He wanted to hear her teasing laugh and turn it into a quivering sigh again. He wanted to see her sweet eyes smoulder with that new awareness. He growled in self-mockery and tossed the sheet from his lazy, lust-aching bones. One night was all he did.

He had the villa. He’d had an immensely satisfying night with a beautiful woman. He had his space.

Now he’d get back to work.