He finally unbuckled his seatbelt, and I undid mine as well and slid out of the SUV, grateful that it looked like Rafe and I would finally have a chance to be alone together. The only problem was, I had no idea what we would be doing with that time.
Whatever Rafe wants, I told myself as we retrieved my new purchases from the back of Cat’s car. You’ll just have to roll with it.
The house was very dark, but he flicked the switches in the hallway as soon as we were inside. It was hard not to let out a breath of relief once I saw that the place was empty. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting — Simon standing there, waiting for our return so he could blast us with more dark magic? — but it seemed that the spell of protection I’d cast had held up just fine in my absence.
“We might as well take this stuff upstairs,” Rafe said.
“Okay.”
I followed him to the second floor. When we got to the upstairs hallway, he paused, looking uncomfortable. “There’s a spare bedroom I don’t really use. Did you want — ?”
I wouldn’t let him finish the question. “I want to stay with you, Rafe, in your room. If that’s okay,” I added hastily, because I realized almost as soon as I’d interrupted him that maybe he didn’t want me to stay with him. Maybe he needed to be alone for a while to get things sorted out.
But he appeared to visibly relax, and even smiled a little. “I was hoping you’d say that, but I didn’t want to presume anything.”
“We’re together now,” I said, my voice firm. “And that means I shouldn’t be sleeping in your extra bedroom.”
“Good.”
He took me into the master bedroom, which was large and spare, almost monastic in its simplicity. A king-size bed with a plain oak frame, a dresser in matching oak with a Mexican mirror of pierced tin hanging over it. A large picture, almost abstract, of what I guessed were supposed to be the Sangre de Christo mountains.
That was it. The bed had a dark red duvet on it, but everything was rumpled; clearly, he hadn’t bothered to make the bed before he left the house this morning.
The room practically screamed for a woman’s touch. I didn’t voice that opinion aloud, though. Rafe had been through enough today, and the last thing he needed was to hear me making plans for redecorating.
“The closet’s here,” he said, opening a door.
Clearly, the home’s architect had planned for a more extensive wardrobe than the meager single rack that Rafe’s clothes appeared to take up. There was plenty of room for me to hang up my new purchases and still have two more racks to spare.
“Thanks.”
We set the shopping bags on the floor, and I got to work placing my new clothes on hangers and then putting them on the rack. That left the jeans and the underwear and the socks. Rafe took a look at the pile of stuff I still had left to put away and said quickly, “I’ll go clear a drawer in the dresser.”
I almost protested, but I really did need a drawer — or several — to store the items that needed to be folded. Instead, I nodded, then watched him go hastily through several dresser drawers, removing what looked like old T-shirts and mismatched socks. Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about him displacing anything important. Once he was done — and had gone to stash the things he’d removed from the drawers on a high shelf in the closet — I went ahead and put all the underwear in one drawer and the jeans and T-shirts in the other.
“Well, that’s settled,” I said after I’d finished that task. There wasn’t a clock in the room, and I thought it would be rude to pull out my phone and check the time, but I guessed it must be way after six. We might as well think about getting something to eat. “Are you hungry?”
A lift of his shoulders. “I don’t know. Not really.”
This response didn’t surprise me all that much, but I knew he needed to eat. And, after my exertions of that afternoon, casting all those protection spells, I was starving. “You should have something, though. Who delivers around here?”
I was worried my question might have annoyed him. To my relief, he only looked thoughtful. “A bunch of places, since I’m so close to downtown. But I think I could have some pizza. Is that okay?”
A few days earlier, I’d shared a pizza with Simon. The idea of having another one didn’t seem all that appetizing, but I told myself it was silly to deprive myself of one of my favorite foods just because I’d eaten it with a dark warlock. If I let him influence me that much, I was giving him too much power…and he already had way more than his fair share.
“Pizza sounds great,” I said.
“Good. Does just pepperoni work for you? I don’t feel like getting too adventurous today.”
“Pepperoni is my favorite,” I replied, which was only the truth.
Looking relieved, he got out his new phone and called up the website for the pizza place in question. A few swipes over the screen, a pause while he dug his credit card out of his wallet and passed it over the on-screen reader, and then he said, “All right, it’s on its way. We might as well go downstairs.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
He led me into the kitchen, where he got a bottle of Sangiovese out of the wine rack, then plucked two glasses from the cupboard. “I don’t know about you, but I need this.”
Although a glass of wine sounded great right then, I wondered whether Rafe should be drinking, considering everything he’d been through that day. But no, he deserved to have the opportunity to relax. If that meant cracking open a bottle of sangio, so be it.
“Me, too,” I told him. “Do you want me to set the table or anything?”
“I thought we’d eat in the living room. It’s more comfortable in there.”
This suggestion worked for me. It wasn’t as though pizza was the sort of meal that required you to sit at a dining room table. “Sounds great.”
We went into the living room, taking the bottle of wine and the glasses with us. Once he’d set the bottle down on the coffee table, Rafe waved a negligent hand toward the kiva fireplace in the corner. The gas logs within flared to life immediately, sending some warmth into the room, which had felt a little chilly. I realized that I could have easily done the same thing, whereas not even a week ago, I would have had to physically lay hands on the logs to get them to light. So much power, just lying there, coiled, waiting to be used. After all those years of living as a nunca, or a witch with no real talent, I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with the idea of my magic. It still frightened me, not the least because it was Simon who’d awakened that power. He said it had been there all along, only asleep, but I hated knowing that I might have gone my whole life without tapping into my inborn talents…if it weren’t for him.
I did my best to push those thoughts aside. Whatever Simon had done, it didn’t affect what I felt for Rafe, the nearly overwhelming need that surged over me as we sat next to each other on the couch. He was so very close, so close that his knee brushed against mine when he shifted to reach for his glass of wine.
Maybe he felt it, too…or maybe not. His expression, which was closed off and calm again, didn’t tell me very much. And while there were so many things I wanted to say to him, now that we were together, I didn’t know where to start. It was quite possible he wasn’t even ready to have a serious discussion about our future together. We’d started a little ways down that road earlier in the day, when we’d kissed and he’d told me he still wanted to get married. However, that was before Simon had attacked again, before he’d murdered Genoveva. Now everything was back up in the air.
So, instead of trying to broach a more intimate topic, I thought I should ask something more innocuous. “Rosa and José? Who are they again?” I remembered that Rafe had said Rosa was his aunt, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it up once more.
“Rosa is my father’s oldest sister,” Rafe replied, then took a swallow of wine. “He’s the youngest of four kids — the only son, just like me. José is Rosa’s husband. He also owns the funeral home all we Castillos use.”
“Yes. I guess sisters never outgrow being protective. Also, Rosa lives here in Santa Fe. My other two aunts and their families still live down in Belen, which is where he’s from.”
“Is that far?”
Rafe shook his head. “About a half hour south of Albuquerque. But they hadn’t come up for Marco’s for funeral, so they weren’t here when…well, when it happened.”
And there we’d circled right back to his mother’s death. Luckily, I was saved from having to make a reply by someone ringing the doorbell. Rafe excused himself and went to answer it. I almost followed, just because I had a sudden stab of worry that it wouldn’t be the pizza delivery person out there at all, but Simon. However, I stayed put and told myself not to be so paranoid. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Simon capable of a sneak attack, only that I didn’t think he was monitoring us so closely that he’d be able to intercept a pizza delivery.
My fears were clearly groundless, because Rafe came back a moment later, pizza box in hand. I hurriedly shuffled our glasses and the bottle of wine off to one side so he could set the box down on the coffee table.
“I’ll get some plates.”
As much as I wanted to offer to help, I knew it was probably better for me to stay where I was. Rafe wanted to act as if everything was normal, and if that was what he needed, then I’d do my best to go along. Everyone grieved in their own way, and I didn’t want to interfere with his process.
He returned to the living room, plates in hand, and set them down next to the pizza box. There was already a stack of napkins that had come with the pizza, so he hadn’t bothered to fetch any from the kitchen.
When he lifted the lid, the most amazing aroma wafted out. I knew I was hungry, but I hadn’t appreciated exactly how hungry until the scent of that pizza woke up my needy stomach.
Rafe put two pieces on a plate and handed it to me, then did the same for himself. For a minute, neither of us said anything. We just sat next to each other, eating pizza, pausing from time to time to take a sip of our wine. After Rafe had consumed nearly a whole piece, he said, “I guess I did need to eat something.”
“So did I,” I replied. I hadn’t eaten quite as quickly as he had, but I’d still made a big dent in my slice in a very short amount of time.
“I just — ” he began, then stopped himself. “I guess I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to handle all this.”
Thank the Goddess he was finally opening up, if even just a little bit. I set down my mostly eaten slice of pizza. “I’m here, if you want to talk,” I said. “And if you don’t want to talk, well, I’m here for that, too.”
He wiped his fingers on a napkin, then laid a hand on my leg. Not in a suggestive way, but more as though he needed to reassure himself that I was there, that I was real. Even so, that single touch was enough to practically set me on fire. Heat surged through my body, although I told myself that I needed to keep it together and be there for him, no matter what that might mean.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Before I could begin to reply, he went on, “And don’t try to sit there and tell me you’re not. It’s not just the magic, either — it’s that you’ve been through the wringer yourself, and yet you’re ready to be here to support me, to help me through all this.”
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you love someone?”
In response, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Yes, but I’m still getting used to the idea that you do love me, even though I was such an asshole to you in the beginning.”
“Yes, you were,” I agreed, smiling a little so he could see I wasn’t entirely serious. “But you got over it. And I know exactly why you were being an asshole. It wasn’t as though you didn’t have a pretty good reason.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “Maybe that’s part of what I’m trying to deal with now. I spent so much time butting heads with my mother that I never stopped to think about what it would be like after you were here, what our lives might be. I never even stopped to consider that maybe I’d end up falling in love with you, that you’d be everything I ever wanted…and more.”
Warmth filled me at those words. Yes, I knew that Rafe loved me, but I certainly wasn’t tired of hearing it yet.
Before I could say anything, he continued. “I guess the really hard thing is that after all the time we spent fighting with each other, all the years I spent resenting my mother, resenting the situation she’d put me in, now she’s gone…and I won’t ever have the chance to tell her that she was right.”
No hesitation this time. I turned toward him, just as he moved toward me. His mouth touched mine, and suddenly we were kissing each other, tongues meeting, my entire body aching for him, aching for more.
He pushed me down into the cushions, his weight on me. I loved the feel of him, the way our bodies touched. True, Simon had done nearly the same thing this morning, but this was different…so very, very different.
I wanted Rafe. Wanted all of him, wanted to seal our love in the best way I knew how.
It seemed he felt the same way, because his hands moved under my sweater, slipping up to unhook my bra. In the next moment, his fingers had closed on my bare breasts, gliding skillfully over my nipples. I gasped, for even that light touch was enough to make me throb with need for him, the ache between my legs growing stronger and stronger.
The next moment, both of us were struggling with the zipper on the other’s jeans. In no time, those bulky, confining garments were tossed to the floor, followed by my sweater and his shirt.
Were we really going to do this like a couple of horny teenagers, right there on the couch?
Apparently, the answer to that question was yes, because I knew neither one of us wanted to waste even the few minutes it would take to get upstairs. Better to ease down the dark briefs he wore, better for him to slide off my panties and add them to the pile somewhere beyond the coffee table.
I could feel him pressing against my leg, hard, big. Maybe his size should have frightened me a little, just because this would be my first time, but right then I didn’t care. I slipped my hand over his shaft, stroking him, as his fingers slid into me, deft and skilled, finding the exact right spot to caress me so I gasped aloud at the sensation, then shut my eyes and moaned.
He was breathing heavily as well, shifting so he was positioned between my legs. I could feel his tip touch me, and I let out another moan, wanting him, wanting it all.
For a moment, though, he hesitated. “Are you sure?” he whispered. “We can wait — ”
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to wait. I want you. I want this. Do it, Rafe. Please.”
A shuddering breath, and then it wasn’t just the tip of his cock touching me, but all of him, sliding inside. A twinge of pain followed immediately afterward. I’d been expecting that, though, knew it wouldn’t last. And it didn’t. Almost at once he began to move in and out, slowly, deliberately, going deeper as I opened to him.
It was the most amazing sensation I’d ever experienced. Not just the sensation of Rafe filling me, but the way I now felt closer to him than ever before. We weren’t two people anymore, but an amazing whole, breathing together, moving together…loving together.
A warm glow began to build in my core. I knew what that meant, knew my body was building toward the inevitable climax. Rafe’s fingers locked with mine, holding on to me, strengthening our bond.
Yes, that’s what it was. We were bonding, physically, spiritually, emotionally. I was Rafe, and he was I. Our bodies seemed to know exactly what to do, and the universe spun around me as the climax hit at last, shivering through every limb, my legs l
ocked around his waist as he came as well, his moans blending with mine so it was hard to know where one began and the other ended.
Perfection. Utter, soul-searing perfection.
As I breathed in and began to return to myself, I remembered to mentally recite the charm of the McAllister witches, the one that would prevent a pregnancy from occurring. Blessed Brigid, now is not the time. Bestow your blessings elsewhere.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have children with Rafe — I hoped one day we’d have a whole house full of them — but now, as the charm itself said, was not the time. We had to get this situation with Simon resolved before we could even begin to start making those sorts of life-changing decisions.
Rafe shifted, easing his way out of me. I let out a small breath, not quite a gasp. It felt so strange to have been one being, and now to be separate again. He must have been experiencing more or less the same sensation, because he bent down and kissed me on the forehead, then on the mouth, softly, with a sort of wonder in his warm brown eyes.
“I love you, Miranda.”
I smiled up at him. “I love you, too, Rafe.”
5
A New Day
Rafe
She was a miracle. That was truly the only way he could think of Miranda, this girl — this woman — who had once seemed as though she would be the one to end life as he knew it, but who instead had turned out to be the only person who could lead him forward into forging a new existence.
There hadn’t been any awkwardness afterward, even though they’d had sex right there on the couch rather than going upstairs to the master bedroom. Once they’d disentangled themselves, they’d gotten dressed, kissed one another, returned to their neglected pizza. Neither one of them had talked about what had happened earlier that day, even though very soon decisions would need to be made about how to proceed with handling Simon Escobar. For the moment, it had been enough to simply be Rafe and Miranda, two people who’d made one another whole.
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