by Nika Rhone
“Well, why ever not?”
“Because…” Lillian floundered. She wasn’t a liar by nature. Hated them, actually. Maybe she needed to throw in the towel and come clean. Suck it up and let her mother move in for a few days. How bad could it be?
“Lillian?” Her mother’s voice jarred her out of her pinwheeling thoughts of confession.
“Um…”
“Let me talk to him.”
“What?”
“Let me talk to him,” her mother repeated. When Lillian didn’t answer right away, she said, “Is there a problem with me speaking with him?”
There it was. The perfect opportunity to come clean. Lillian opened her mouth…
And couldn’t do it.
Panic cramped her stomach as she looked over at Rafe, who was watching her with an intense look on his face. “Um, no, but…” She mouthed she wants to talk to you, and to her surprise he reached out for the phone. Unsure if it was the right thing or not, she gave it to him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Beaumont.” Rafe’s gaze stayed locked with Lillian’s as he listened. “Okay, right. Patricia,” he said, with a soft chuckle, “and no, you didn’t wake us. We were just having breakfast.”
Lillian groaned to herself at the not-so-subtle subtext.
“Yes, I’ve learned she’s not much of a morning person. Yes, I know.” Rafe listened some more, nodding as he did. Lillian strained to hear what her mother was saying, but it was impossible. Rafe’s expression gave nothing away, and neither did his occasional “uh huhs” and “rights.”
“No, you’re right,” he said, finally, giving Lillian a smile. “I agree. No, it’s not a problem at all. Right. Okay, then, we’ll see you tonight. Goodbye.”
Staring in disbelief as Rafe thumbed the phone off and replaced it in the cradle, Lillian said in a strangled voice, “You agreed to come to the party.”
“Yes.” Calm as you please, he picked up his coffee and took a sip. Like he hadn’t just thrown them both into the lion pit.
“Why would you do that?” Didn’t he understand the huge problem he’d created?
“Because it was the only way your mother would continue to believe we’re a couple. She was already having her doubts.”
“No, she wasn’t.” Not after seeing that kiss.
Rafe gave her a “come on” look. “Why else would she have called this early in the morning? And on the landline, rather than your cell? You said it yourself. You’re not a morning person.”
“Because…” Because he was right. She was checking up on them. Lillian’s eyes widened as another realization hit her. “You knew she’d call.”
“I thought she might.”
“That’s the reason you came over.” Like a Greek bearing gifts. The rat.
“One of them, but not the only one.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.” He leaned in closer until their noses almost touched. “You never asked me what the bribe was for.”
“Um, what?” Being this close to him was playing merry havoc with her hormones.
“Ask me what the bribe is for.”
“Um…what’s the bribe for?”
Rafe leaned in even closer, his mouth skimming her cheek on its way to her ear, where he whispered, “To make sure you didn’t say no when I told you I really am moving in.”
Chapter Eight
He probably could have handled that better.
Rafe accepted that fact a few hours later as he negotiated his truck through the afternoon traffic on US-36 on their way back from Denver. Asking would have been a much better choice than telling Lillian he planned to move in with her for the duration. But he was of the school of belief it was better to seek forgiveness than permission.
Of course, that school didn’t have a class on dealing with an irate pixie who was not at all fond of being told what to do.
Lucky for him, he’d already been in the apartment, which made it harder for her to get rid of him until she heard him out. Not that she’d done a lot of listening. First had been incredulous laughter, followed by some angry foot stomping when she realized he wasn’t kidding. She’d concluded with a long monologue peppered with more than a few interesting adjectives that he’d tuned out of about halfway through. The gist of it had been he was out of his mind if he thought she would allow him to bully his way into her home.
Having two sisters of equally dramatic bent, Rafe let her go until she wound herself down. The worst part was, she hadn’t been wrong about a lot of what she said. He was planning to make her agree to his plan. Somehow. He just had to find the right approach.
The fact it was for her own safety didn’t seem to make one bit of difference to her, which frustrated the hell out of him. Not that he thought she was in any immediate danger. The vandal was probably someone acting out in an isolated fit of anger. A disgruntled artist Lillian wouldn’t give a show to. Or maybe an ex-lover who hadn’t wanted to become ex.
That last possibility bothered him a lot more than it should have.
Grave danger or not, though, he’d made a promise. He hadn’t come out and told Patricia Beaumont he was spending his nights with her daughter, but he’d implied it. And he’d told her nothing but the absolute truth when he said he’d do whatever it took to keep Lillian safe. So, he wasn’t backing down on this no matter how loud or long Lillian argued about it.
It was just taking a little longer than he’d expected for her to give in.
The matter had been tabled—if you could call it that—when Lillian walked out of the living room in the middle of Rafe talking. She came out of her bedroom twenty minutes later dressed in tight jeans, high-heeled boots, and a top that resembled a corset more than it did a blouse. Slinging the monstrosity she called a purse over one delicate shoulder as she headed for the front door, she’d announced she was going out to pick up her brother’s birthday present.
Rafe hadn’t bothered to argue. Like the good little bodyguard he was planning to be for the next few days, he fell into step behind her and followed her down to the garage, where she led the way to her car. Or, rather, the empty slot where her car was supposed to be. By the slump to her otherwise rigid shoulders, it was clear she’d forgotten the police hadn’t returned the little toy she drove. She turned and walked back toward Rafe’s truck.
That little sign of defeat just about killed him.
The only thing Rafe had going for him was that Lillian seemed incapable of staying quiet for long. About halfway through their forty-five-minute drive down to Denver, she’d broken the tense silence by asking if he knew when her car would be returned. She looked so depressed when he said no, he almost felt bad for calling Pete while Lillian was getting dressed and asking him to delay the car’s release as long as possible.
Almost.
But not enough to give her back the means to evade him at will. Keeping her safe meant keeping her close, not zipping around town from party to party.
By the time they arrived at the Pepsi Center, they’d reached what amounted to détente. But Rafe knew the war was far from over. What he was still a little confused about, though, was why they were fighting about this in the first place. He hadn’t imagined the interest in Lillian’s eyes. Or in the rest of her, for that matter. They were going to end up in bed at some point in the near—very near—future. Those tight little nipples that pressed up against him this morning, and the way she’d all but melted in his arms, had ended any questions he’d had about that.
Rafe swallowed a groan. Dios, she’d been like the sweetest candy he’d ever tasted. If the phone hadn’t interrupted, he doubted he would have stopped until he’d sampled every last delectable inch of her. And maybe gone back for seconds. Not thoughts he should have while driving, when there wasn’t any polite way to adjust himself and relieve the sudden pressure in his jeans.
Kissing Lillian last night had been a tactical error on his part. He’d known all along that if he ever touched her, his resolve would crumble like an overbaked t
aco shell. It was why he’d worked so hard to keep the barrier of distance between them all these months. And yet he’d been stupid enough to think he could handle kissing her, just once, without paying the price.
What had he been thinking?
Oh, right. That they needed to convince her mother they were a couple. And tonight, they would have to sell that lie to her entire family. Wouldn’t that be a fucking fun evening. He was either going to lose his ever-loving mind trying to hide the way his body reacted whenever he got close to Lillian, or her brothers were going to put him out of his misery and kill him.
If their father didn’t beat them to it.
Détente lasted until they got back to Lillian’s apartment. She had no choice but to let him in, since he was carrying the heavy package they’d gone all the way down to Denver to collect. He wasn’t much of a hockey fan, but Rafe had been duly impressed with the framed and mounted jersey signed by the entire 2001 Colorado Avalanche Stanley Cup winning team. Theo, Lillian had gloated, was going to shit kittens.
Rafe didn’t know about that, but he figured it was still a damn nice gift for a man who could buy himself just about anything he wanted. Including the entire hockey team and their arena.
“Thank you for carrying that up, and for driving me to get it,” Lillian said as he leaned the box against the sofa. She stayed right beside the door, making no move to close it. “I’m sure you had much better things to do with your afternoon.”
As hints went, it was a pretty poor one. Rafe smiled and dropped into one of the chairs. “No problem at all. I’m entirely at your disposal.”
Lillian scowled at him a long moment before swinging the door shut on a sigh. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?” She sat in the other chair with a dramatic flop.
“Why are you?”
“Because I don’t need protecting! I keep telling everyone they’re overreacting. People’s cars get vandalized all the time. It doesn’t make it personal.”
It might have sounded like she was trying to make him believe that, but Rafe could tell it was herself she was working so hard to convince. The slashed tires had rattled her more than she was admitting, and still she resisted the help everyone offered. He needed to know why. But first he needed to clear something else up.
“You do know that me staying here is in no way contingent on you sleeping with me, right?” If it hadn’t been such a serious subject, he might have been amused by the way Lillian’s mouth fell open. But it was serious. He needed to make sure she understood what he’d meant, and not what he’d finally realized she might have thought he’d meant.
“When I told you I was moving in, I should have made it clear that it was into the spare bedroom, not yours. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was taking our sleeping together for granted, or like I was expecting anything in exchange for my offer to protect you.”
“What? Why would you…I never thought—” Lillian jumped to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. “Rafael Delgado, what a horrible thing to say. I never once, for a single second, thought you were trying to get into my bed.” She bit her lip when he quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well, okay, yes, you were. But that’s an entirely different matter. This”—she waved her hand between them—“has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with you being an overprotective Neanderthal, just like my brothers.”
Rafe stood. “Actually, this”—he mimicked her gesture—“is about the lie you told to your mother and asked me to go along with.”
“For one night!”
“Oh? And what about that phone call this morning?” He advanced on her a step, which she matched in retreat.
“That was a…a fluke. A one-time thing. She won’t be checking up on us again.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you, querida?” Another step. Another retreat.
“I, uh…of course I do.”
Rafe grinned. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Jamming her fists onto her hips again, Lillian glared at him. “I am not.” Realizing what she’d said, she made a sound of pure frustration. “God, you’re so annoying!”
“Because I’m right?”
“No, because you’re a man.”
Rafe felt his blood warm as he continued to stalk her, one step at a time, until her back hit the edge of the kitchen island. Before his prey could slip away, he placed both hands on the cool granite, caging her between them as he leaned his body close to hers. Close, but not touching. That decision needed to be hers alone.
“And you’re a woman.” He dipped his face toward her neck and inhaled the spicy scent that was uniquely hers. “God, I want you.” He was rewarded by a hitch in her breath and the rapid dilation of her pupils.
“This might not be a good idea,” she whispered.
“It’s definitely not a good idea.” Rafe touched his lips oh-so softly to the corner of her mouth. “But I can’t seem to remember why anymore.” And he couldn’t. Months, years of resistance had been erased with one kiss, and try as he might, there wasn’t any reason compelling enough to make him step back from her now. Not when he finally had her right where he’d fantasized about so many times.
Right or wrong, he was going to take whatever she was willing to offer, and deal with the consequences later.
“So, what do you want to do?” He pressed another feather-light kiss to the other corner of her mouth.
Teasing.
Enticing.
Asking.
Lillian looked up at him, her dark-chocolate eyes sheened with arousal, and moistened her lips. “What do I want?”
“Tell me.”
Lillian met his gaze almost defiantly and said, “I want you to make me scream.”
****
The look of pure, primal lust that stamped itself onto Rafe’s expression sent a rush of moisture between Lillian’s thighs and eased the discomfort saying those provocative words had caused. Shy she wasn’t, but asking—no, telling—a man you wanted him to make you scream in pleasure wasn’t part of her usual repertoire. It didn’t matter he’d promised to do that very thing just a few, short hours ago. The fact she was giving him permission to do it was a big deal.
The fact she wanted him to do it was even bigger.
Pushing away the dark memories that threatened to intrude and ruin the moment, Lillian licked her lips again and was rewarded when Rafe’s nostrils flared. Good. She didn’t want him thinking too hard about anything either. She wanted them both to enjoy this, because she couldn’t be certain it would ever happen again.
“So, Rafe.” She slipped her arms around his neck, fingers sifting through the short hair at his nape. “Think you’re up for it?” Leaving no room for doubt about her intent, she pressed herself against him, and holy hell, was he ever up! A thrill of anticipation tingled through her body.
Rafe growled—actually growled—as he caught her up against him and lifted her as though she weighed nothing to sit on the edge of the island. His fingers tugged at the laces on the side of the corset-inspired top her friend Des had designed for his spring line, growling again when the laces fought back. Lillian seconded the sentiment. She was about to suggest he just cut the stupid things when the rigid constriction loosened. Not wasting a moment, Rafe freed her breasts, his tongue finding one tightly ruched nipple and giving it an enthusiastic hello.
The warmth of his mouth contrasted the way the cool air tightened the small bud even harder when he shifted his attention to the other neglected nipple, where he feasted like a man starved. Which was ridiculous, because a man like Rafael Delgado had to be dripping in hot, willing women every day of the week.
But for today, at least, he was hers, and she wasn’t about to miss a minute of her chance to see if her imagination had done him justice. With a light tug on his hair, she got him to abandon his prize and shift his attention to her mouth. At first the kiss was hard and punishing, almost bruising, but then he reined himself in as he gentled the connection to a series of light, teasing kisses and lick
s.
Oh, hell no.
This time the tug on his hair wasn’t as gentle. When his uncertain gaze met hers, she said very clearly, “Don’t hold back from me. I won’t break.” She gave him a wicked grin and nipped his chin. Hard. “Promise.”
She didn’t understand the words he muttered in reply, but she did understand the way his mouth attacked hers, his tongue driving inside and conquering every bit of her with ruthless efficiency. Lillian groaned into the kiss, her fingers clutching his shoulders as her body hummed into overdrive. She didn’t know why this flipped her switch the way it did, but she’d learned not to worry about it. Everyone had their kinks. Having her partner go all alpha male just happened to get her motor running.
Having Rafe be that alpha male damn near made her purr.
Gasping out a hard breath, Rafe pressed his mouth to Lillian’s neck before leaning his forehead on her shoulder. “Christ, woman, I always knew you’d be the death of me.” Before she could reply, he slid his hands under her ass and lifted, surprising a gasp out of her. “Put your legs around me.”
Any other time, the harsh order would have put her hackles up and had her looking to do the exact opposite. But right here, right now, she couldn’t move fast enough to do as he said. As Rafe took her mouth again, Lillian was only vaguely aware of him moving, too caught up in the sensual web he was weaving to think about where he was taking her until he deposited her on the bed. Lillian looked up at him from her boneless sprawl, breathing hard.
So was he. “I hope to fuck you have rubbers, because I don’t think I could make it down to my place and back without hurting something.”
Her gaze dropped to where he was pressing his hand against—she swallowed—the impressive erection straining his jeans. “Um, in the nightstand,” she said, remembering only as he yanked the drawer open what else she kept in that particular drawer.
A dark grin creased Rafe’s face. “Well, well, well.” He reached into the drawer and came out with a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs dangling from one finger. “Having cops and robbers fantasies, querida?”