Eve spent some time considering the fact, weaving a fantasy of how they might have spent the evening each trying to deny the need burning within, finding reasons to brush against each other until finally…
“Snrrrrk!”
A loud noise from the bed jerked Eve out of the pleasant doze she’d drifted into. Aly was snoring. Grumbling under her breath, Eve levered herself up on her elbow and glared at her friend. Damn. She’d forgotten Aly snored loud enough to wake the dead!
Knowing there was no point in trying to get any rest with buzz-saw Aly only feet away, Eve grabbed a pillow and left the room. Rafe had said the sofa turned into a bed. Or perhaps she’d just curl up on top of it.
Padding down the hallway, she curled her toes against the cold wooden floor. Moonlight streamed in the window bathing the room in bright light and creating dark shadows. Even though it wasn’t her own home, she felt comfortable moving about in the semi-darkness. Finding her way to the sofa, she sat down and arranged her pillow before tugging the afghan from the back. Wrapping it around herself, she closed her eyes and tried to rest.
“Snrrrrk!” Aly’s snores drifted down the hallway.
Eve sighed and rearranged her position, the sofa squeaking softly beneath her.
“Snrrrrk!”
Eve held her hands over her ears. How could she have forgotten this? Another snore had her cursing Caro. The woman had probably sent Aly here for this specific purpose. Her agent had a sick and twisted sense of humour at times.
“Eve?” Rafe spoke beside her and Eve jumped. She hadn’t even heard him approach with all the noise Aly was making!
She sat up and looked at him. He had a bathrobe wrapped around him, tied at the waist but revealing an interesting glimpse of his chest. “Sorry, Rafe. Is Aly keeping you awake, too?”
He grimaced as another snore echoed through the house. “I wasn’t asleep, but if I had been, she certainly would have woken me up. Does she do that all the time?”
“Only if she’s been drinking.” Eve stared at the empty wine bottle that still sat on the nearby coffee table. It was Aly’s favourite and, except for Eve’s one glass, the other woman had drank all of it. And hadn’t Aly said earlier that Caro had sent it along? Yep, this had definitely been on purpose.
He snorted and sat down on the sofa beside her. The cushions dipped and she slid closer to him. “A poster child for sobriety, that’s what she is.”
Eve giggled. “She’s a happy drunk. Just a noisy sleeper.” A shiver washed over her and she tucked the afghan over her bare feet.
Rafe slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Come here. You’re cold.”
Almost immediately, heat from his body began to warm her and she relaxed against him. “Thanks for letting her stay. And sorry for the noise.”
“One night isn’t a big problem.”
With her face resting against him, she could feel his voice rumbling in his chest. It was a deep and comforting sound. She gave a contented sigh only to break into a fit of giggles when Aly snored again. Rafe joined in with a deep chuckle. A happy feeling of rightness filled her.
“Where did you and Aly meet?” Rafe propped his chin on top of her head.
“At an exercise class. She was prepping to enter a security training course and I was trying to lose weight before a friend’s wedding.”
“Security?”
“Uh-huh. She was planning on being a police officer. Actually, she is one now.”
“And had you always planned on being an artist?”
Eve shrugged. “I guess. I’ve always been good at it. I studied art but had no clear idea of what I was going to do once I graduated. I got lucky and landed a summer job with an advertising firm and learned a bit about the commercial side of it. Then Caro connected me with a publishing company looking for cover artists and also started helping me sell my paintings.”
She talked idly about her job; funny experiences, the discouragement of not selling anything for months, the high when she made her first sale, her up-coming show…
Faint embers still glowed in the fireplace and she stared at them sleepily. At some point, Rafe had rearranged her and she was now half-sitting on his lap. He was idly rubbing her upper arm with one hand, the other resting on her hip. For a while she enjoyed the soothing action before starting to mimic the gesture, running her hand over the lapel of his robe. The terry-cloth was soft beneath her hand and she spent some time enjoying the sensation of playing with it, noting how it changed colour depending on the direction she brushed it. She traced the edge of the material, her finger sliding over the satin piping that edged it. His bare skin was just within reach of her fingers and she recalled how it had felt last night. Smooth skin over hard muscle. Without thinking she placed her hand on his naked chest and immediately he froze.
“Eve?”
Surprised at her own action, she did nothing. Holding her breath, she stared at the contrast of her pale skin against his darker tones, feeling the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm. The room was silent except for the faint crackle of the fire and the ticking of the mantel clock. Even Aly had quit snoring. It was as if the whole world were waiting for her decision. Did she pull away or move forward?
She wet her lips and slowly exhaled. Then, carefully, tentatively, she spread her fingers out, exploring the flesh before her. So strong. So warm. Mesmerized, she watched her hand as she moved it over his body, pushing the material of his robe out of the way, further exposing him to her view. She encountered his nipple and circled it with her fingertip, feeling how it puckered under her touch.
Rafe’s breathing hitched and, boldly, she leaned forward flicking the tip of her tongue over the hardening nub.
He shifted his hold on her and eased her back until they were looking at each other.
“This isn’t a good idea.” Rafe frowned down at her.
Eve nodded in agreement, but continued stroking his chest. She could feel his shaft hardening. He closed his eyes as her hand drifted downward, playing with the knot of his robe. Yes, this was a bad idea, yet, if it was, then why did she find herself shifting position so she could straddling him?
Her knees on either side of his hips, she gently pulled the labels of his robe apart, completely exposing his chest. She ran her hands over his pecs while trailing soft kisses across his collar bone.
“Eve…” He groaned her name, his hands now encasing her ribs, his thumbs stroking the sides of her breasts through the thin material of her nightgown.
She kissed her way up from his collar bone, licking his neck, while moving her hands downwards to tug at the knot of his robe again. Her knuckles brushed against his stomach and when she bit the cord of his neck, he thrust his hips. There was no denying his arousal. It nudged at her through the layers of material and she felt herself grow wet. If only his robe and her nightgown would vanish.
Slowly, she began to rock against him. His hands finally cupped her breasts, kneading in time with her rhythm. She kissed his jaw, then found his mouth. Their lips parted and touched, brushing and teasing, locking together then separating only to return for more. Electric tingles danced over her mind, reaching out, searching…
“Dammit, Eve! You just lost me that twenty bucks I won earlier!”
The sound of Aly’s voice had Eve jerking back, startled at the unexpected interruption. “What…?” She blinked at her friend, embarrassment, confusion and frustrated anger warring within her.
Aly stood near the doorway, her hair tousled and her eyes bleary. “I bet Caro you wouldn’t get it on with your hunk while I was here. Geez, Eve. You gotta learn to control yourself.” And with that Aly turned and stumbled towards the bathroom.
Eve blinked, absorbing what Aly just said before climbing off Rafe’s lap. What was she doing? She never acted like this! And why the heck were Aly and Caro making bets about her and Rafe? It had to be Caro’s doing. Just wait until she saw her again!
She peered at Rafe out of the corner of her eye. “I’m…er…”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and got to his feet as well. A muscle was ticking in his jaw again. “I suppose we should thank her.”
“Right.” Eve scowled at the bathroom door. “Thanks a lot, Aly.”
Chapter 21
Damien wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt and tossed it aside before grabbing a bottle of water. Sitting down to rest on the worn steps in front of his cabin, he took a long drink and absently rubbed his right leg. A large pile of debris gave evidence to how he’d spent his time. The porch was partially dismantled, the rotted boards removed, and he’d taken measurements for the ones that needed to be replaced. He’d have to call Rafe about heading to the lumberyard for some more posts; from what he recalled, there weren’t enough stockpiled in the back shed.
He wondered if his reception would be any warmer than it had been yesterday morning; Rafe had definitely been pissed off. A smirk twisted his lips as he thought about how much he’d enjoyed that reaction. Not that he’d purposely planned it. There was just something about Eve that had him opening up, sharing things he hadn’t spoken of in ages. Perhaps it was her subtle resemblance to Beth, or simply the fact that she seemed so sincere. Whatever the case, he’d been shocked when she’s hugged him, and even more surprised when he’d actually hugged her back.
The feeling had been…strange. Comforting, warm… Some of the tension that constantly twisted his guts had actually eased infinitesimally. And his wolf had murmured its approval; how long had it been since that had happened? Of course, nothing could come of it. Eve was Fae and his purpose was set. Speaking of which…
He checked his watch and then pulled out his cell phone; it was time to make contact. The phone rang exactly once before being answered letting him know his call was expected. “Checking in.”
“Anything new?”
He thought briefly about how he’d hugged Eve. “No. Contact has been established. My presence won’t be questioned.”
“Good. Things are coming to a head. The target is confirmed.”
“I’m in position and ready.”
His contact grunted. “Don’t act until I give the word, though.”
The order and the tone of voice both rankled and he responded accordingly. “I’ll move when my gut says it’s time.”
“Negative. You’ll wait for orders.”
“Fuck that. I’m in the field. I’ll do whatever the situation requires.” Damien ended the call, clenching his hand into a fist. Damn, he hated this. Hated the waiting, hated the deception. Go in, do the job and get out. That’s what he’d signed on for. Nothing else.
Frustrated, he stormed over to the lake that flanked the cabin, shucking his jeans and toeing off his shoes before diving in. The icy water was shocking but the pain of the cold cleared his head. Surfacing, he pushed his hair from his face and then set off in a rapid front crawl as if he could somehow outrace the demons he carried inside. It wasn’t possible though. His sins would live with him forever.
How many had died because of him? How many lives cut short? How many grieving families? He shouldn’t care; couldn’t care. A hard heart was the only way. Blood was spilled, some lived, some died. No one lived forever and some deserved less time than others. Their existence only brought pain and sorrow. Their evil had to be eradicated.
“Who kills the executioner?” Beth’s voice whispered his head and his wolf rumbled its agreement. In his mind’s eye, he could see Beth, her brow furrowed as she puzzled over the complexity of what was right and what was wrong.
During their brief time together, how often had they lay in bed, their idle conversations turning deep and serious? He’d always marvelled at the way her mind had worked.
He paused, treading water, wondering how she’d judge him. A knot formed in his belly and he gave his head a shake. Taking a deep breath, he set off again, determined not to think about the answer.
Finally exhausted, he waded to the shore and picked up his pants and shoes. Naked and dripping wet, he strode up to the cabin and dumped his clothing at the foot of what remained of the porch. Spying his discarded t-shirt, he grabbed it to use it as a towel only to pause as he brought it close to his face. It smelled faintly of Eve, reminding him of their hug. She’d felt small and delicate—he could have snapped her in two—but then there’d been that show of spirit. He lifted the material to his nose and inhaled deeply. So like Beth…and yet not.
His wolf stirred again, urging him to return to Rafe’s, to find Eve.
“Shut up.” He barked at the beast but it growled back, pushing against him, trying to take over. The animal had its own agenda but that was just too fucking bad. He was in charge, he called the shots. A wolf’s place was to follow orders. It didn’t matter how either of them felt about Eve…
He firmed his jaw and pulled the shirt on roughly. Hell, he’d wait for their orders but they’d better give him the signal to move soon. Hanging around meant getting attached, and there was no room for that in his life. Eve was a job, nothing more.
Chapter 22
Aly had left early in the morning and Eve had spent some time cleaning up from the impromptu sleepover. Pizza dishes and wine glasses, plates from breakfast and coffee mugs had all been washed. Then still feeling inspired, she’d tackled the towels and bedding as well as her laundry only to come to the conclusion that she needed a few more items from her cabin.
Now she was bustling about her old bedroom, shoving clean clothes into a bag and grabbing a few essentials from the bathroom. Rafe was waiting in the living room, having insisted on driving her. She’d protested that there’d been no sign of the wolf in days, but he hadn’t budged.
“Either I go with you, or you don’t go at all.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his computer chair, his expression bland yet unyielding.
She’d huffed at the ultimatum, having thought she’d casually tap on his door and mention she’d be gone for part of the afternoon. In her heart, she knew it was common sense but a part of her balked at his high-handed manner. For a psychologist she’d have thought he’d be less bossy and more open to listening; she’d even told him as much.
“The clientele I work with demand a firm hand,” he’d replied.
“I’m not one of your clients.”
“No, but you’re just as stubborn and hell bent on your own destruction as some of them are.”
She’d begun to protest but he’d cut her off.
“If you want to go to your cabin, I’ll take you right now. If not, I have work to do and, if need be, I’ll tie you to my bed to keep you from doing something foolish.”
The idea of being tied to his bed had caused her heart to race and her temperature to rise. Almost…almost…she’d been tempted to defy him just to see if he’d really do it, but one look at his face told her he probably would. The thought was both exciting and a bit scary at the same time. Instead, she swallowed hard and conceded, her voice coming out more as a squeak than the confident tone she’d wished for.
“Fine, if you’re going to be that way about it, I’ll go grab my purse.” She’d spun on her heel and forced herself to walk away rather than run.
His soft laughter had followed her down the hallway letting her know that somehow he knew she’d found his suggestion arousing.
Now Eve stood in the small bedroom of her cabin giving it a final glance to see if she’d forgotten anything. Spotting the charger for her cell phone she grabbed it and headed to the living room. Intent on gathering a few more art supplies, she came up short when she saw what Rafe was up to.
He was near her drafting table staring at her drawings again, and she groaned inwardly. The sketches of him were still prominently posted on the corkboard. Perhaps, she’d just not mention them; they were nothing to be ashamed of. It was art, after all!
“I’m almost ready.” She infused her voice with a carefree tone and began to gather some watercolour paper. A grunt was the only reply she got. The drive had been conducted mostly in silence, too; Rafe lo
st in thought. Apparently, not much had changed.
She nudged him out of the way and he moved half a step. That was when she noticed that he had a book in his hand. It was a romance novel she’d been reading and she’d bookmarked a rather steamy scene. He was glancing between the book and her drawings an amused quirk on his usually stern face.
“What are you doing?”
“I find your choice of reading material very enlightening.”
“It’s just a romance.” She resisted the urge to snatch it from his hands, and instead focussed on staying calm so her cheeks didn’t flush again. Dammit, what was it about Rafe that had her blushing all the time?
“‘He took her in his arms and pressed her close, his hand cupped her heaving bosom…’” Rafe glanced at her. “Is that what you picture me doing?” He nodded towards her drawings of him.
“No! Of course not! Well, I mean, not for this particular book. It already has a cover.” She was babbling she knew it. Stretching out her arm, she tried to take the novel away.
He easily held it out of reach. “But what about the covers you are designing?”
It was apparent he wasn’t going to let the matter drop. Eve assumed her professional tone. “I find it helpful to have an individual—a certain body type—in mind when drawing. I need to imagine them in the situation, think of how their bodies would be positioned, their frame of mind, the expressions on their face.”
“Ah!” He nodded and she gave a sigh of relief thinking the subject was closed. She shoved a few sketch pads in her bag and then reached for some drawing pencils. It necessitated her squeezing between Rafe and the desk, but this time he didn’t respond to her nudging to move. Her bottom brushed against his body, and she gave a quick inhale as her mind registered the fact that he was definitely at half-mast. She tried to move away but he put his arm around her waist and held her in place, even pulling her back a bit so she had the full effect of his erection pressing between her butt cheeks.
“Rafe?”
Betrayed: Days of the Rogue Page 18