by Nika Rhone
It was him.
He muddled her thinking. Destroyed her control. Made her want to explore where she’d only just reminded herself that morning she dared not go. Sex with this man wouldn’t be simple or casual. It would be dark, and wild, and involve far too much emotion for what she was willing to give to a relationship right now. If she was smart, she’d accept the gift he’d given her of time and distance, and, come tomorrow, they’d be able to go back to the way it had been before. Friendly neighbors and acquaintances. Nothing more.
Except…she really didn’t want to be smart.
And she really, really wanted there to be something more.
Stopping at the door, Rafe turned and skimmed the backs of his fingers down her cheek in a gentle caress, his gaze still hot but his voice neutral when he said, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he stepped back and opened the door. “Make sure you lock up and set your alarm.”
“Okay.”
The struggle in him was almost palpable as he hovered in the doorway. Rafe skimmed his thumb down her cheek again and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m going to take my time driving you wet and wild when I finally get you naked under me,” he whispered.
“Definitely okay,” she whispered back, grinning when he groaned and wrenched himself away. He stalked out of the apartment to stop and wait in the hallway, hands fisted at his sides, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
Just like the previous day on the elevator, Lillian waited until the door was almost closed before blowing him a kiss. She was rewarded by a muffled spat of Spanish that she guessed was a few curses aimed her way.
Biting her lip, she sagged against the door remembering the sensual spark that had jolted her body when Rafe used his teeth to do the exact same thing. Her body heated at the memory, and if he weren’t out there waiting to hear the beep of the alarm being set, she would have groaned out loud.
Smart? Oh, no. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to end up being smart about her attraction to the five-alarm hotness that was Rafael Delgado. No woman on the planet had that much willpower. Which meant she had to be careful instead, and focus on not losing sight of her ultimate goal. As long as she didn’t let herself get too invested in whatever came of their physical relationship, she should be fine.
Probably.
After she set the alarm and dragged the stepstool over to check through the peephole that Rafe was gone, Lillian collected the wine bottle and glasses and brought them to the kitchen. She still felt awful about deceiving her mother. Not awful enough to tell the truth, though.
It was all so stupid. Everyone was making way too much of the whole thing with her car. Was it a little unnerving that someone had slashed her tires? Of course, it was. She wasn’t stupid. But she also wasn’t helpless, and she refused to upheave her entire life because of someone else’s anger management issues.
Knowing the choices in her fridge for dinner were slim, she looked anyway and was pleasantly surprised to find two wrapped chicken Caesar salads. Her mother must have brought them, planning to use the time it took for them to have dinner to plead her case about Lillian moving back home.
Not gonna happen. Ever.
Her mother knew why. Both her parents did. But what neither of them seemed to grasp was that removing the person who created the issue in the first place didn’t make it disappear. Sean had stripped away every ounce of comfort and safety her family home used to represent. Spending one night there would be an uncomfortable feat. Any longer would be more like a vacation in hell. Covered in fire ants. And honey.
Having her mother stay at her apartment would have been less painful, but no less uncomfortable. In the year she’d lived on her own, Lillian had gotten used to her space. She had her own little schedules and daily rituals. Having someone, anyone, even the mother she loved and adored, stay with her would disrupt her entire life. And that would affect her ability to create, and that was unacceptable.
Taking one of the salads and grabbing a fork from the drawer, Lillian went down the hallway to the bedroom at the end. It was lucky Rafe had pulled her into the first of the two bedrooms and not this one. Rafe. Thank God he’d gone along with her crazy scheme. She hadn’t had time to think it through. Her mother’s announcement took her by surprise, and Lillian had latched onto the first person who sprang to mind.
It was because she’d just been with him, she assured herself as she settled onto the stool. And that he lived right downstairs, and was the only person she could produce on the spot. It had nothing to do with the way she’d fantasized over his denim-clad butt. Or the random dreams that sometimes left her achy and wanting.
Spearing a piece of delicately seasoned chicken, she decided it didn’t matter. She’d told the lie, Rafe had backed her up, and her mother bought it.
Because of that kiss, a little voice reminded her.
Hoo-boy, that kiss.
She’d been kissed, she’d made out, and she’d had sex. That kiss was like all three wrapped up neatly into those two very talented lips. Rafe had gotten her hotter faster than any man in her life.
Ever.
Lillian shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about her shagalicious neighbor and get down to work. With a critical eye, she studied the canvas on the easel in front of her. The colors were a delicate mix of pastels, the central figure a seated woman wearing a flowing blue dress, her head turned away as she leaned into the cello she held. It was almost done, but it didn’t call to her tonight the way her paintings usually did when they were so close to completion. Instead, another urge rode her, and she knew her muse well enough to follow where it would lead, rather than the other way around.
Replacing the canvas with a fresh one, already primed and ready for paint, she turned on the radio and set up her paints as she finished the last of her salad. By the time she was done with both, she still didn’t know what she was going to be painting, but as she always did, she trusted in her instincts and began.
Lost in the thrall of her art, Lillian didn’t register the passing of time until her fingers cramped. She worked through the pain for a short span, but finally bowed to the knowledge that if she pushed much longer, it would affect the quality of her work. Cleaning up by rote, she refused to look at the partially finished piece until she’d put everything back in its place. Then, she took a deep breath and turned to see it for the first time as a whole, rather than the individual parts that had emerged as her brush labored over the images her mind was creating.
The breath left her again in a hard rush.
This was so different from her other work that for a second she felt as though it wasn’t even her own. All her paintings were soft, pastel, alive and vibrant but at the same time subdued and quiet. It wasn’t a style she’d chosen. It was just how her paintings always seemed to come out. But this one…this was bold. Strong.
Sensual.
She studied the long sweep of spine, tight with muscles, the curve of taut, naked buttocks, the powerful legs. It was far from finished, but where it usually took several sessions to block in the basics of the form she was laying down, this time it was almost whole the first time out. If she could, she’d keep going, still feeling the creative twitch in her hands, but she knew better than to overdo.
Taking one last look at the painting before she switched off the light, Lillian’s breath caught when she realized who she’d just spent the evening painting. Even though his face was turned away, there was enough of a hint in the jaw and the cheekbone that it was impossible to deny her nude bore more than a passing resemblance to the sexy white knight from downstairs. It was there in his profile, in his dark hair, in his soft mocha skin tone. All of that was Rafe. Everything else was entirely imagination, of course, since she’d never even seen him without a shirt on.
But, she decided as she flicked the light switch and closed the door, she was going to make it a point to find out just how
close her imagination had come to the real thing.
****
“I brought coffee.”
Lillian blinked groggily up at the man who stood outside her door, and waited for her brain to process the words. It was slow going. While her neurons fired up, she took in the deliciously edible picture he made. Faded, ripped jeans and sneakers, a Boulder PD baseball jersey that was snug enough to show off his lean, muscled chest, and a morning scruff that said he hadn’t acquainted himself with his razor yet today.
Yum.
“You know, you’re the second cop in two days to wake me up by pounding on my door at the crack of dawn.” She tore her gaze from his deliciousness to zero in on the cardboard tray he carried in one hand. “At least you’re smart enough to bring me caffeine as a bribe.” She didn’t waste any time removing one of the large to-go cups and taking a swallow. “Nectar of the gods,” she murmured, taking another, smaller sip while she ignored the smile she could see Rafe trying to hide.
“The coffee is a peace offering.” He lifted the white paper bag in his other hand. “The pastries are the bribe.”
Lillian’s mouth watered at the familiar logo from the bakery down the block. She opened the door wider. “Okay, you’ve redeemed yourself for the unreasonable hour.”
“You know, it is after seven.” He passed her and headed toward the kitchen.
Lillian closed the door and groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of them.”
“One of who?”
“A morning person.” She didn’t think she could take another one of those in her life. Both Thea and Amelia were. So was her mother, and most of her family, with the sole exception of Peter, who had been known to hibernate for twenty-four hours straight if given the opportunity. As always, Lillian was the odd one out. She preferred late-night hours. It was just the way her body clock ran.
“By nature, no. But by necessity for work, yes.” Rafe looked around. “Plates?”
Lillian grabbed hex-shaped plates glazed in deep indigo from the cupboard and brought them to the island where Rafe withdrew two fist-sized danishes from the bag that made Lillian’s mouth water almost as much as the man himself did.
Focusing her attention on only one thing that was bad for her at a time, she took a huge bite of the danish and closed her eyes as the flavors exploded over her tongue. It might not be the breakfast of champions, but it was a lot tastier than the bowl of nutritious yet bland cereal she would have poured for herself if Rafe hadn’t shown up bearing gifts.
Which now that her brain had been jolted awake by the double whammy of caffeine and sugar, Lillian wondered why, exactly, he had.
“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Lillian said, after she swallowed, “but I have to wonder why you felt the need to bring a bribe. Or a peace offering, for that matter.”
“The peace offering was because I wasn’t sure if I needed to apologize this morning or not.”
“Apologize? For what? If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me, for dragging you up here last night like I did.” Something she still couldn’t quite believe she’d done. She wouldn’t have thought twice about dragging Thea or Des into one of her little schemes, but they were close friends. Rafe wasn’t. He was barely more than a casual acquaintance, really.
More than that, after that kiss, her naughty inner imp reminded her.
That kiss. She’d had a long, restless night’s sleep, thanks to that kiss. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d felt the softness of his lips against hers, the hardness of the rest of him, and the heat that had her close to imploding with frustrated desire.
“You’d better not be trying to apologize for kissing me,” she said, suddenly certain that was why he’d come. Why were men so stupid sometimes? “That was right up there in the category of one of the best kisses ever, and I don’t want you ruining it by getting all stupid and remorseful and saying it never should have happened, or I was drunk and you took advantage. You kissed me. You can’t take it back.” She tilted her chin up and crossed her arms, daring him to apologize now.
Rafe was silent for a few seconds, studying her face. His lip twitched, but he got them back under control, which was a good thing, because if he laughed, she would have to hurt him.
“One of the best kisses ever, huh?”
She sniffed, refusing to let her embarrassment show. “It was up there. Could still use some work, though.”
“Duly noted,” he replied, with a nod. His lip twitched again.
“If you laugh at me, I swear…”
All hint of amusement faded from his expression. “I have no intention of laughing at you. Just like I have no intention of apologizing for kissing you.”
Lillian blinked. “You don’t?”
“No. Did you have a little too much to drink last night? Maybe. But you weren’t drunk, and you were in total control of your faculties. And if anyone could be accused of taking advantage of anyone else, let me remind you that you kissed me the second time.” He sounded a little too pleased about that.
Lillian cleared her throat. She’d sort of forgotten that small detail in all the lusty aftermath. “Well, I’m not apologizing either.”
Rafe grinned. “Good to know.”
“So?”
“So…what I wanted to apologize for was for what I said right before I left. I might have been a little out of line. And if I was, I’m sorry.”
Sorry he was out of line, not sorry that he’d said it. Interesting distinction.
Deciding she needed to knock Rafe a bit off balance the way he had her with that reminder she’d been the one to practically jump him the second time, Lillian cocked her head and made a confused face. “What you said before you left?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I remember.” Total lie. She remembered each word like it was seared into her brain. “Maybe you could refresh my memory. What was it you said, exactly?”
She gloated in satisfaction as his calm, amused demeanor slipped into deer-in-headlights territory. But then just as fast, a gleam that should have worried her entered those green-gold jaguar eyes of his. That would have worried her, if she didn’t on some level want the result she was about to get.
Rafe wiped his fingers on his napkin with slow, methodical movements, his gaze locked on hers. “I believe it was something along the lines of a promise. That I was going to drive you wet and wild. Slowly, and without mercy, until you were screaming from the sheer pleasure of it.” He cocked his head in imitation of hers. “Sounding familiar now?”
The pulse in her neck started to throb in the same rapid rhythm as the one between her legs. “Maybe a little,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper. She cleared her throat. “Although I don’t seem to recall the part about the screaming.”
“An oversight on my part.” He leaned in closer. “Trust me. There will be screaming.”
“The good kind, I hope.” Kiss me, dammit!
He leaned closer still. “Only the very best kind, te lo prometo.”
I promise.
“Well, then, I guess there’s no apology needed.” Lillian bridged the last gap and feathered her lips across his. “Is there?”
“Dios mio.” Rafe groaned against her mouth, taking it in a hard, hungry kiss before he broke away with another harsh curse. “You taste so good.”
Lillian ran her tongue over her lips. “Maybe it’s the danish,” she teased, enjoying the way his gaze zeroed in on her mouth.
“Maybe we’ll have to test that theory.” Rafe brought his hands up to cup her face. “What time do you have to be at work?”
The feel of his hands on her skin made her shiver despite the heat threatening to melt her from the inside out. “I don’t. I have the day off.”
“Better and better.” His fingers skimmed her cheeks once, twice, turning the shivers into shudders of anticipation. “Why don’t we—” He broke off with a growl when the phone rang from a few feet away on the kitchen counter.
Lillian seconded the
sentiment. But there were very few people who had the number to the landline her father insisted she have installed. Ignoring it was out of the question. Movements stiff with regret and thwarted passion, she pulled back enough so she could see the caller ID screen. She missed the feel of Rafe’s fingers the second his hands slid away.
“Let it ring,” Rafe urged, his displaced hands now caressing her legs.
The skimpy cotton shorts she wore were no protection from the tantalizing press of his warm hands. “I have to answer,” she groaned. “It’s my mother.”
His hands stilled. Then, with a low, rumbling laugh dark with frustration, Rafe let them slide away. “Tell her that her timing sucks.”
“Seriously,” Lillian muttered as she got up to grab the handset. “Mom, hi. Is everything okay?”
“Of course, it is, dear.” Her mother sounded disgustingly chipper. Stupid morning people. “I just called to say good morning, and, well, I wanted to say I was sorry for any…awkwardness that might have resulted from my, well, rather unfortunate interruption.”
Which one? Lillian dared a glance over at Rafe, who was making fast work of the rest of his pastry. Lord, what she would give to be that danish. With great difficulty, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. “It’s fine, Mom. No problem at all.”
“Oh good, I’m so glad.”
Lillian narrowed her eyes. Her mother sounded a little too glad. “Why?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want Rafe to feel awkward around the family because of it, that’s all.”
A bad feeling was starting. “Mom…”
“You will be bringing him with you to your brother’s party tonight, won’t you?”
Crap. Her brother’s birthday. The reason she’d taken the day off. Lillian squeezed her eyes shut, all plans of spending a lazy day exploring the possibilities of a naked Rafe in her bed vanishing. The lie she’d fashioned was beginning to feel more like a noose.
“Lillian?” Her mother’s voice broke the silence. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Yes, Mom, everything’s fine. It’s just…” She scrambled for an excuse that wouldn’t sound like one. “I don’t think he can make it.” As soon as she said it, Lillian felt Rafe’s attention focus on her, but she refused to meet his gaze.