And then he skimmed away her sensible cotton panties and began yet another wicked exploration that had her writhing and begging for release.
“Not just yet,” he whispered, his breath cool against the bare skin of her sensitive inner thigh.
He began a whole new assault of kisses that roved from stomach to ankle to toes and back again, until he reached the juncture of her thighs. When he touched her with his tongue, she came apart in a shuddering release.
Clutching his shoulders, she came slowly back to earth, then met his smoldering gaze. She felt a need to say something, to explain how devastating, how incredible the experience had been. “That was—”
“Just the beginning,” he said, cutting off her words with a kiss that sent her senses soaring once more.
Her body was straining yet again by the time his gaze locked with hers. Poised above her, he reminded her of a proud warrior, a little arrogant, a lot masculine. She hadn’t thought it was possible to want more than he’d already given her, but she did. Anticipation and yearning coupled with a building heat as he finally, at long last, entered her.
The sensation, the hard, slick slide of his arousal deep inside her took her breath away. But just beyond that incredible moment of satisfaction there was a hunger for more, a hunger that began with a sense of loss as he withdrew, then deepened as he entered her again.
The rhythm, as old as time, but new to her with this man became a torment and a pleasure. Rafe added nuances she’d never imagined, slow, fast, then slow again, teasing her, streaking toward a peak, then carrying her down, lulling her, before finally taking her to an impossible height, one that had every part of her at a fever pitch, demanding release, reaching for it.
They tumbled over the edge together, panting, clinging together, crying out in unison.
When the waves of pleasure had stilled, when heated flesh began to cool, she sighed deeply and buried her head against his neck. Then, cradled in his arms, feeling safer than she had in months, maybe even years, she slept. The very last thing on her mind was the future and what it might hold.
Rafe was a little awed, more than a little panicked by what had just happened between him and the woman who was curled so trustingly against him. He was not a man prone to making impulsive decisions. His relationships, such as they were, tended to be simple. He was definitely not a man who thought in terms of forever.
But here he was, completely sated and drained from making love with a woman who had impulsively thrown herself at him, who was about as complicated as anyone he’d ever met and who was definitely all about forever. How the hell had this happened?
Okay, he knew how it had happened. He’d been thinking about Gina in this way for weeks now. Maybe not from the moment they’d met, but certainly from the first time they’d kissed. Once the ethical barrier to pursuing a relationship had been lifted by that agreement he’d made earlier with Emma, he’d been all too susceptible.
He sighed and shifted until she was cradled even more tightly against him. Never one to transfer the blame for something to someone else when his own role was perfectly evident, he forced himself to accept responsibility for what had just happened. Gina might have initiated things, but he’d been an eager participant.
All of which begged the question, what now? If he had a functioning brain cell left, he’d leave the pursuit of Bobby Rinaldi in Emma’s capable hands and hightail it back to New York and his other clients. Sticking around Winding River and carrying on a fling with Gina was a dead-end road for both of them. She would realize it once the initial physical attraction wore off. What was the expression? Their relationship was definitely too hot not to cool down. That was certainly his experience. Even relationships based on more than he and Gina had in common eventually burned themselves out. His mother’s certainly had. In fact, he predicted that after today, now that he and Gina had tasted what had previously been forbidden, the attraction would be well on its way to dying.
He glanced at her, took in the rosy cheeks, the lush curve of breast and hip, the dark cloud of tousled hair, the thoroughly kissable mouth. His body stirred with all the urgency he had felt not a half hour before.
So much for diminishing attraction, he thought as he ran his hand over petal-soft skin that smelled of citrus and ginger. Her nipple peaked to a hard bud against his palm. She shifted restlessly as his caresses intensified and became bolder.
Then she was wide awake and moving against him, welcoming him, hips thrusting against hips, seeking, urgent. The heat climbed as he buried himself deep inside, withdrew, then sank into her again and again.
This time, she was the first to cry out, the first to reach a shuddering climax. As the waves washed through her, they set off his own explosion. Muscles bunched, strained, then relaxed into the demanding pleasure of it.
“Too much,” she cried as their bodies mated with fierce intensity, arching together in another wild burst of sensation. Then, “More, please, more.”
Her words were an echo of his reeling thoughts. Being with Gina was too much by far, and yet he knew, with soul-searing honesty, that he could never get enough.
When Gina woke from an exhausted sleep this time, there were no sneaky caresses teasing her awake. In fact she was in the king-size bed all alone. The sound of water running told her that Rafe was taking a shower. His side of the vast mattress was cool to her touch, suggesting that he’d been up for a while now.
It was dark outside. Inside, there was only the glow from beneath the bathroom door and a digital clock on a bedside stand to light the room.
Gina heard the water shut off, the sound of off-key humming, and grinned. What would he think if she slipped into the room and joined him? Oddly, she felt more uncertain about his reaction now than she might have hours ago.
She had seduced Rafe. There was no question in her mind about that. She had done precisely what she’d told Emma she intended to do. She had wanted something and she had gone after it.
What now, though? Was Rafe happy about the turn of events? She knew he had enjoyed the sex as much as she had, but beyond that? Had all those doubts of his crowded in again? Had he succumbed to all of the sensible, rational arguments that would have kept her out of his bed in the first place? Not knowing kept her right where she was, waiting, feeling more vulnerable than she had in years.
Not that she regretted anything, not one single, amazing second. But it would be nice to know where she stood, what she could expect when he emerged from behind that door. She watched it with the same trepidation a suspect might feel awaiting a jury’s verdict. Even as she made the analogy, she cringed.
When Rafe eventually opened the door, her heart slammed against her ribs. He was wearing a pair of still-new jeans and nothing more. The snap was undone and the waistband rode low on his hips. No cowboy had ever looked sexier than this. Longer now than when he’d first arrived in Winding River, his hair was damp and tousled. She wished she dared to run her fingers through it to add to its surprising tendency to curl. She gave him a hesitant smile, which he was a little too slow to return. Her pulse skittered unsteadily.
“You’re awake,” he said, his tone cautious and surprisingly uncertain.
“So are you,” she noted, forcing a teasing note into her voice.
Looking incredibly unsettled and awkward, he dropped down on the side of the bed. He lifted his hand as if he might caress her, but then let it drop to his thigh.
“Are you okay?” he asked, studying her intently.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I thought you might be having second thoughts.”
Her gaze searched his. “Are you?”
“Hell, yes,” he said fiercely, but his expression softened to take the sting out. “And if you were the least bit sensible, you’d be scared spitless, too.”
She grinned at that. “I don’t scare so easily.”
“We really do have to talk about this, Gina.”
“Why? We’re two consenting adults. Why do we need to make a
big deal out of something so natural?”
“Because—”
She frowned at him. “I will not talk this to death, Rafe. I will not regret it. If that’s what you’re hoping for, forget it.”
“I don’t want you to regret it. I just want you to realize that it can’t go on.”
“And why is that? Because you have decreed that it can’t?”
“No, because it can’t go anywhere.”
She began to lose patience with his oh-so-reasonable tone. “Why can’t it? And who said I wanted it to go anywhere, anyway?”
“Let’s face it, Gina. You don’t do this sort of thing.”
“Have sex?”
“Have casual sex,” he corrected.
“And that’s all you have,” she shot back. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
He winced at the charge, but he didn’t deny it.
“Well, that’s just dandy,” she said, taking his silence for assent. “We’re agreed. This is casual sex. If I agree to those terms, I assume you’ll have no objections.” She gathered the sheet around her, dragged it off the bed and marched into the bathroom, spine rigid, shoulders back. She shot one last heated look over her shoulder. “Since this is all so damned casual, I don’t expect you to buy me dinner. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be out of here and you can get back to that paperwork.”
Then she slammed the bathroom door behind her.
The roar of the shower drowned out her hot, salty tears. At least, she hoped it did. And if Rafe had a single shred of decency in his body, he would be gone when she came out.
Instead, as she leaned against the wall of the shower and let her tears flow, the curtain was suddenly yanked back. Still in his jeans, Rafe stepped into the shower with her, his expression grim and determined. She was too shocked to react.
Rafe tucked a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed futilely at the mix of streaming tears and flowing water from the pounding shower. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking contrite.
“For what?”
“For upsetting you. I was just trying to make sure that we were on the same page. I wasn’t trying to diminish what had happened.”
“But you did,” she said, her voice catching. “You made it seem cheap and tawdry and unimportant.”
He sighed, gathering her close. “It was anything but that. In fact, that’s the problem. You caught me off guard. I never expected to feel so much, to want so much, especially with things so uncertain.”
“What things? I thought everything between you and me was finally straightforward. You want Bobby. I agreed to help you in any way I can.”
“It’s more than that, Gina. You have to see that.”
“I don’t,” she insisted. “You’ll have to explain it.”
He pushed wet strands of hair back from her face, a smile tugging at his lips. “You want an explanation here? Now?”
“You picked the place,” she pointed out.
“But there are so many more interesting things we could be doing,” he said, his gaze drifting from mouth to breasts, then lower still.
Gina could see the hard bulge of his arousal pressing against soaking wet denim. When he ran a finger along the curve of her breast, then skimmed a nail across the peak, she shuddered. Desire, hot and urgent, slammed through her once more. All thoughts of resolving their differences fled as she reached for the zipper on his jeans, slid it slowly down, then took the hard thrust of his arousal in her hand.
Rafe moaned, then lifted her until she could straddle him, her back braced against the wall. There, with the shower cascading over them like a waterfall, their bodies slick and hot and hungry, they streaked toward a violent, earth-shattering climax that left them panting and clinging together.
When they could move again, when they had caught their breath, Rafe lowered her to unsteady legs, then reached for the soap and gently washed her. Then he cut off the water, reached for a towel and dried first her, then himself.
“Now then,” he said, his tone sounding deliberately casual. “What do you say we get dressed and go get some dinner?”
Gina knew what he was doing. He wanted to get them onto neutral turf before renewing the discussion of the future.
“I could call Tony’s and have a pizza delivered right here,” she suggested.
“Bad idea,” he said at once.
“Why?”
“I seem to be having trouble keeping my hands to myself.”
She regarded him with amusement. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“Because I’m starving and you must be, too.”
“A pizza would solve that,” she said.
“So would a nice, quiet dinner in a restaurant where we’d be obligated to behave ourselves. We could have a little wine, a little pleasant conversation.”
“Why do I think that the conversation you have in mind will be anything but pleasant?”
His jaw set stubbornly. “Gina—”
“Okay, say I agree to go out, will you agree not to bring up our relationship?”
He seemed to be torn, but he finally nodded.
“And no mention of Bobby?”
“Okay,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. “What’s left?”
She patted his cheek. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. If not, we’ll invite Tony and Francesca to join us. You can help me convince him to take her to Italy while I cover things here for him.”
Rafe paused in pulling on a clean shirt to stare at her. “You’re talking temporarily, right?”
“Yes. Why the resigned look?”
“Because I was hoping that now that we have this agreement, you’d be ready to go back to New York.”
“If you’re anxious to go home, go,” she said, though her heart felt suddenly empty at the prospect of him leaving. “Emma or I will keep you posted if Bobby turns up.”
Rafe shook his head. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I’ll feel better if I’m around to keep a close eye on you.”
Something in his voice alarmed her. “Because you still don’t trust me?”
“No, because we have no way of knowing whether Bobby took that money because he’s desperate for some reason.”
“Desperate? What on earth do you mean?”
“If he’s gotten himself mixed up in something bad, something like gambling debts or big-time drug deals, he could be in danger. I don’t want him dragging you into that.”
The thought of there being any actual danger in all of this had never occurred to Gina. The prospect of losing Café Tuscany had been daunting enough.
“Surely, if there were any danger, he would warn me,” she said slowly but without much conviction. After all, if Bobby had been concerned about her at all, he would never have put her in this position in the first place.
“We can’t be sure of that,” Rafe said, his expression grim.
He brushed a finger across her forehead. “Don’t look so worried. I am not going to let anything happen to you.”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go. I recommend a big plate of pasta and some wine.”
Gina sighed. Normally that was a prescription she would recommend herself. Tonight, though, she had a feeling it was going to take a whole lot more to chase away the sudden butterflies in her stomach.
She was still unnerved when they reached Tony’s. Peg Lafferty, who’d been with Tony since he opened, led them to a table near the kitchen. “I know Tony’s going to be running in and out to talk to you, so this will be more convenient.”
“Where’s Francesca tonight?” Gina asked.
“Home. She’s not feeling well.”
“What’s wrong? Do you know?”
“I’m not sure,” Peggy said, her expression filled with concern. “She’s been staying home a lot lately. Tony doesn’t talk much about it, and I haven’t wanted to pry.”
He hadn’t said anything to Gina, either, but she had none of Peggy’s reticence about prying. She intended to
get to the bottom of this. “Tell him I’m here, okay?”
“Will do,” Peggy promised. “Everyone’s eating late tonight, it seems. He’s got a half dozen orders going right now, but he’ll be out soon. Can I bring you a bottle of Chianti while you look over the menu?”
“Chianti would be good,” Rafe told her. When she had gone, he regarded Gina with concern. “Don’t start taking what she said and exaggerating it in your head. Francesca may be perfectly fine. She might just be taking some time off.”
“You don’t know her. She doesn’t take time off, not willingly.” She started to stand up. “Maybe I should go over there to check on her.”
Rafe tugged her back down. “Maybe you should wait and let Tony answer your questions before you go charging over to see her.”
“These are my friends,” she said, “not yours.”
“That doesn’t make my advice any less sensible,” he said mildly.
Gina sighed and relented. “You’re probably right. I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill. Tony would have told me if it was anything serious.”
“Exactly,” he said just as Peggy returned with the wine and a promise that Tony would join them shortly.
“Do you want to order before that?” she asked.
“No,” Gina said at once. “I want answers before I want food.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rafe said. “How about a plate of antipasto for the time being?”
“You’ve got it,” Peggy said, then went off to check on another group of late arrivals.
When the antipasto arrived, Gina realized that she was ravenous. Since there was nothing she could do until Tony emerged from the kitchen, anyway, she picked up a carrot stick, then a stalk of celery, then reached for the warm garlic bread that Peggy had brought with it. Rafe watched her approvingly.
“That’s better,” he said at last. “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks. I was worried there for a bit. This tendency of yours to take on everyone else’s problems is not a good thing.”
“These are my friends,” she said defensively. “What would you have me do?”
He sighed. “I imagine telling you to maintain a little distance would be a waste of my breath.”
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