He pressed his lips to hers as if they had all the time in the world, ignoring the fact that someone across the road at the fire station was probably watching them and would tease him about this later. It was too perfect a day to rush a kiss like this. Phoebe must have used her favorite perfume that morning, because she smelled of summer—of citrus and coconut, and something headier she’d once told him was vetiver when he’d nuzzled her neck and announced she smelled so good he could eat her up—and had promptly done so.
Thinking about going down on her made his head spin, and he exhaled with a tiny growl he hadn’t meant, making Phoebe inhale. She lifted her hands to rest on his chest, and for a moment he thought she was going to push him away. But then her fingers clutched at his shirt, and they fanned out, moving over his shoulders and up his neck, into his hair. He shivered as her nails scraped his scalp, and felt her lips curve a little under his. She’d always loved the power she had over him, the way his body seemed to belong to her. Clearly, that hadn’t changed.
She softened against him, like a chocolate button left out in the sun, rising on tiptoes and leaning into the kiss. Rafe sighed, wrapping his arms around her. When her lips parted, he didn’t waste the opportunity to dip his tongue into her mouth, joy filling him as she returned the thrust shyly, her fingers tightening in his hair.
They exchanged a long, heartfelt, sensual kiss, and when they finally moved back, Rafe felt as if it was Christmas Day and his birthday and Valentine’s Day all rolled into one.
“Yowza.” Phoebe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes wide and a small smile on her lips. “You kiss like a god.”
“It helps to have great inspiration.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. His heart continued to race, and he felt a sweep of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be all right. “Come on, let’s get you home. I think you could do with a rest.”
He drove her home, and by the time they walked indoors her pale face with the dark shadows under her eyes made him take her straight to the bedroom. He pushed her onto the bed, took off her shoes, and put on the overhead fan. By the time he left the room, her eyes were closed, and she was breathing evenly.
He made himself a cup of coffee and a large sandwich, and took it out onto the deck to eat. Usually he’d have brought his iPad to read, but today he sat in the quiet, thinking about Phoebe.
The fact that Noelle had asked him to keep the truth about her father’s death from Phoebe made him feel as if he had spiders under his skin, itching to get out. And, of course, he hadn’t yet mentioned the argument they’d had the night before her accident. She deserved to know these things, and it went against the grain to keep them from her.
But maybe Noelle was right. It was very early days, and Phoebe had only just begun to heal. Who knew what the truth would do to her?
He slid down in the chair, leaned his head on the back of the seat, and looked up at the blue sky. He wasn’t being one-hundred-percent honest with himself. The fact was that he liked Phoebe the way she was at the moment. Although he admired the way she’d thrown herself into her training, and he was proud of her for raising money for charity, he liked that she was more laid back and less intense now. Was that terrible? This was the woman he’d fallen in love with, and the one he’d tried to reach when they’d had that last, awful argument. The guilt and the grief she’d suffered since her father’s death had changed her. It had eaten into her, tarnished the shining silver spirit he’d fallen for, and to have her back the way she was, light-hearted and carefree, made his heart sing.
But he would tell her. He couldn’t not. He would stick to his plan, and tell her everything a few days before the wedding, once she’d had more time to heal. Hopefully by then, she’d be so in love with him again that it wouldn’t matter.
She slept for a couple of hours, and when she woke, her cheeks had a little more color. He made her some lunch, and they sat outside again while she ate it. Afterward, she said she wanted to go for a walk, so he drove them the short distance down to the river, and they walked slowly across the footbridge to Kemp House and the Stone Store, holding hands.
While they watched the geese and ducks on the riverbank, and the teenagers pushing each other off the rocks into the shallow river, Phoebe asked him questions, about places they’d been together, things they’d done, people they knew. Rafe answered them all, painting a picture of their life, hoping he was doing it justice, because they had been happy.
She was quiet afterward, and he squeezed her fingers as they began to walk back, giving her a smile. “You okay?”
“Mmm. Just processing everything.”
“Anything seem familiar?”
She shook her head.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m sure it’ll come back eventually.”
“I don’t know.” She looked away, down the river to where the fishing boats were heading out toward the bay. “I keep thinking about what I should do if it doesn’t. Do I make decisions based on trusting old Phoebe? Or do I make them based on who I am now?”
Rafe said nothing for a moment, not sure how to answer. He knew what he wanted to say, but it wasn’t fair to say that. “I would suggest you wait a while. You don’t need to make any decisions yet. Hopefully things will become clear for you by the time you have to decide something.”
She didn’t reply, and he wasn’t sure if she was thinking about marrying him or whether the idea of moving away and starting her new job was bothering her.
“I hate it,” she said eventually, pausing on the middle of the footbridge, and leaning on the railing. “I feel as if I’m trying to sew a garment but the pattern’s torn, and I’m having to make it up as I go. I don’t have all the information, and it’s freaking me out. I just have to take everyone and everything at face value. It’s horrible.”
“You can trust me,” he said, although as the words left his mouth his stomach roiled uneasily. He hated Noelle at that moment for making him lie to his fiancé.
“Can I?” She turned her large green eyes up to him.
“I’d never knowingly hurt you,” he said. “You’re the love of my life.”
She bit her lip and looked down. Then she turned and carried on walking.
He caught up with her and held out his hand, and she slid hers into it.
“Okay,” she said in a jovial tone, obviously deciding to turn the conversation more lighthearted, “so how many girls had you dated before me?”
“Three-hundred-and-twenty-one.”
“Christ, Rafe!”
“I’m joking. Jeez.”
“I should hope so. So, how many?”
“That’s kind of private.”
“I thought we didn’t have any secrets? You haven’t told me before?”
“Might have.”
She bumped shoulders with him. “More or less than fifty?”
He gave her an amused look. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted by that. A lot less than fifty.”
“It’s a compliment. You’re gorgeous.” She gave him a curious look. “You must have had tons of girls after you.”
“I had a few girlfriends at school. At eighteen I went out with a girl called Nina and we dated about a year. After her, another couple of short-term girlfriends, then there was Tessa. We went out for five years.”
Phoebe’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a long time.”
“I guess we both thought we were the one at the time.”
“What went wrong?”
“I met you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was living with Tessa when I met you. Not in our house—in a place in Paihia. Looking back, we’d already grown apart. We had our own lives, our own friends. Even if I hadn’t met you, I don’t think it would have been long before we broke up. You just sped up the process.”
“What happened?”
“Elliot introduced us in the bar. He knew I was with Tes
sa, but he saw the way I looked at you. We sat and talked for an hour. I didn’t ask you out right then, because I was with Tessa, but when I went home I couldn’t stop thinking about you. For two days, I couldn’t sleep. I laid awake those nights on the couch trying to decide what to do. I thought what if I break up with Tessa and ask you out, and you say no? But I knew it wasn’t fair on Tessa to do it the other way around. If I was interested in someone else, our relationship was over. So I broke up with her, and, that afternoon, I rang you and asked you out.”
“I said yes?”
“You told me you were dating someone else. I said that you weren’t, you were dating me.” He smirked at the memory.
“You’re so arrogant,” she said.
“It worked, though. We went to the cinema that night. The rest is history.”
She smiled, but her eyes were cautious. “It’s a good story. But that’s the weird thing—I didn’t know it up until now. How do I know you’re not hiding anything else from me?”
“I wasn’t hiding it, Phoebe. I just hadn’t gotten around to telling you.”
“Okay, so what else haven’t you gotten around to telling me?”
“Probably a billion other things. It’s not easy for me either,” he said somewhat irritably.
Her expression softened. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He pressed the button on his keyring and unlocked the car. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go home and I’ll make us some dinner. What do you fancy?”
“A curry,” she said immediately as she got in. “Something mild but tasty.”
“Okay.” He got in the driver’s side and started the engine.
“With meat,” she added, clipping in her belt.
He glanced over at her. “You sure?”
“Definitely.”
He didn’t say anything, and she frowned at him. “Are you going all judgmental on me?”
“Of course not.” He steered the car onto their road. “But I am worried that if and when you get your memory back, you’ll blame me for letting you eat meat. Just like you’re not sure whether to trust your old self or the new you, I’m not sure either. The old Phoebe would scold me for giving her meat, because I know her feelings on eating it.”
“It’s my decision,” she said. “I’m not going to blame you for anything, Rafe, I swear.”
He turned onto their drive and parked the car, deciding it was best not to reply to that. “Come on, then. I’ll make a chicken curry.”
While he cooked, she sat at her desk and flicked through some of the folders she kept of the dresses that she and Bianca had made, familiarizing herself with their work. Then, after they’d eaten, they watched another movie, sitting side by side on the sofa, holding hands.
By that time, it was nearly eight p.m., and she was looking tired again.
“I think I’m going to have to go to bed,” she said.
“That’s okay. I’ll come with you and have a read. You go ahead—I’ll clear up here and join you in a minute.”
He finished stacking the dishwasher, closed the windows, and turned off the lights before going into the bedroom. Phoebe was already in bed, and he was conscious of her watching him as he moved around. After visiting the bathroom, he came out in his T-shirt and boxer briefs, put his jeans over the chair, and lowered the spare mattress to the floor.
“Rafe,” she said.
He tossed a pillow onto the mattress. “Yeah?”
“It’s stupid, you sleeping on the floor. Sleep next to me.”
Chapter Twelve
Phoebe watched Rafe put his hands on his hips and purse his lips.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“To sleep,” she clarified. “You keep your hands to yourself.”
His lips curved up. “While I’m awake. Can’t say what I might do when I’m asleep.” He pulled the duvet back, slid underneath, and stretched out beside her.
Giving him a wry look, Phoebe rolled onto her side facing him. He rested his head on a hand, and they surveyed each other for a moment.
The duvet lay across his waist, a strip of skin exposed where his T-shirt had ridden up. He smelled heavenly. His eyes held a hint of sultriness, pleasure maybe, that she’d invited him into her bed. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good plan after all.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said.
He just smiled.
They were only about a foot apart. If she leaned forward, she would be able to press her lips to his.
She didn’t. But she could have.
His tale about the way they’d met had given her a funny feeling inside. He made it sound highly romantic, with their gazes meeting across a crowded room, and him wanting her so much that he’d given up a five-year relationship without a second thought. She was sure it couldn’t have been that easy for him. Had Tessa resisted the breakup? Had she cried when he’d said it was over? Surely, she must have been devastated to lose him?
“What?” he asked, amused at her perusal.
“I was wondering whether Tessa cried when you said it was over.”
His brow furrowed. “She was upset that it was done. So was I. We’d been together a long time. The end of an era, you know. I don’t think she was devastated to lose me, though.”
“Why not?”
“I think she’d fallen out of love with me a while before.”
“Really?” she said, puzzled.
His expression softened. He reached out a hand and touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. “Not everyone feels about me the way you do.”
She swallowed. “How do I feel about you?”
“You love me.” He trailed a finger around her ear and down her neck. “You desire me.”
“Do I?” Her voice came out as a whisper.
“You do.”
“How much?”
His lips curved up, his finger stroking along her collarbone. “We’ve set this bed alight a few times.”
“I wish I could remember,” she said wistfully.
His smile faded, and he lowered his hand. “Are you trying to make me cry?”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’ll have to start from the beginning again, that’s all. When you’re ready.”
The breath caught in her throat at the implication. He wanted to make love to her. He was expecting to.
“You might be disappointed,” she said.
“Never.”
Her face warmed. “I don’t remember what to do. I won’t know any flash tricks or anything.”
“I don’t need flash tricks, Phoebe. I only need you.”
“But what if you wanted me to do something and I didn’t know what it was?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A special position or something.”
“I’ll draw a diagram. Seriously, it’s like a riding a bike. It’ll come back to you.”
She chewed her bottom lip.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because it turns me on.” His voice was low, husky.
She released her lip, her heart thumping on her ribs. “That makes me feel a bit lightheaded,” she said, somewhat faintly.
“What does?”
“The thought of turning you on.”
“You do it ten times an hour, Phoebe. You’d better get used to it.”
She could feel the electricity zinging between them. It almost made her hair rise with static.
“You make me feel funny inside,” she said. Her stomach was fluttering, and there was a strange ache between her thighs.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “It’s only been a week since we made love, but it feels like a year. I miss you.”
“I’m not ready,” she said.
“I know. I’m just saying.”
“I want to be.”
“There’s no rush.”
She moistened her lips. “I want to kiss yo
u again,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be a prick tease.”
He laughed at that. “We’re getting married,” he said with amusement.
“I know. But I don’t want to lead you on, it’s not fair.”
“I’m twenty-nine, not nineteen. I think I can control myself.” He tipped his head from side to side and his lips twisted. “Probably.” He met her gaze and smiled.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked him.
In answer, he shifted closer to her, so they were only six inches apart.
“I’ll do anything you want,” he said simply. “I’m yours to command.”
“So, if I say go and do the laundry…”
He laughed and lowered his lips to hers.
Phoebe rolled onto her back, lifting her hand to slide into his hair, and felt his hand slip beneath the covers to rest on her ribcage, just beneath her breast. His mouth was warm on hers, his lips firm but gentle, and when she felt the touch of his tongue on her lips, she opened her mouth to give him access.
Ohhh… It was heavenly, lying there in the warm bed, the last rays of the dying sun streaming through the window, being kissed by the most gorgeous guy she was sure she’d ever laid eyes on. She rested her other hand on his back, feeling his muscles through the T-shirt, tempted to slide her fingers beneath the cotton and touch his warm skin, but she resisted.
He took his time kissing her, his hand stroking over her hip and down her thigh, pulling her close to him, almost subconsciously, she thought, as if his body hungered for hers. Making love with him would be amazing, she knew it instinctively. She burned inside at the thought of his lips on her skin, his fingers teasing her toward the height of pleasure. She wished she could remember having sex with him. How would it feel to have a man inside her, to have his eyes on her when she came? To watch him come inside her?
She ached for it, but her head hurt, and she was tired, and she still wasn’t ready to give herself to an almost stranger, not yet. As if sensing her thoughts, Rafe lifted his head, and he gave her a small smile.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead and slid down a little, gathering her into his arms. “Come here.”
She rolled onto her side, cuddling up to him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
Bride in Trouble Page 10