Warrick chuckled softly. “So you learned your lesson, huh?”
Raina snorted out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Most definitely.”
“Good.” Warrick smiled at her, enjoying their relaxed camaraderie more than he cared to admit.
Shaking off the thought, he downed the rest of his beer and tossed the bottle in the trash, then went back to work on the car, though suddenly he couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Raina shifted from one foot to another, looking as if she were trying to decide whether to leave or stay. He found himself waiting, hoping she would choose the latter.
Finally she took a small, tentative step toward him. “Actually, Warrick, I have a confession to make.”
He glanced up from the engine and looked at her expectantly.
Nervously she moistened her lips. “Okay, I didn’t lie when I told you I didn’t know you were over here until I pulled up. That part was true. What I didn’t mention is that the reason I called your uncle this afternoon was to get your phone number.”
He raised a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. There’s something I, uh, wanted to discuss with you.”
Warrick straightened slowly out from under the car’s hood. He could think of only one reason Raina had sought him out that afternoon. She had decided to sell her property to him. It had taken her just one day to consider his offer and come to her senses.
Good. Better late than never.
“Go on,” he murmured when she hesitated uncertainly. “I’m listening.”
Raina met his gaze for a prolonged moment, then suddenly began shaking her head. “Never mind.”
Warrick frowned. “What do you mean, never mind?”
“It wasn’t important. Just forget it.”
“Raina—”
“It’s getting late. I should go. My sister’s expecting me for dinner, and I promised to stop by the bakery first and pick up dessert.”
Warrick clenched his jaw. “Raina—”
“Could you let your uncle know I had to leave?” she said, starting to walk away. “I really wanted to wait for him, but—”
With a muffled curse Warrick reached out, grabbing her wrist to halt her retreat. As she whirled around, trying to jerk out of his grasp, her beer bottle slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor.
Raina gasped. “See what you made me do!”
Warrick scowled.
As she clumsily tried to sidestep the spill, he instinctively tightened his hold on her wrist and pulled her toward him. “Watch the glass,” he growled warningly. “You’re wearing open-toed shoes.”
She glared up at him, dark eyes flashing, nostrils slightly flared, breasts heaving as she struggled to slow her agitated breathing.
Warrick saw the exact moment she became aware of how close they stood, the moment she realized that one more step, one little tug from him, could bring their bodies into full contact. Her pupils darkened, turning almost smoky. Those voluptuous, pillowy lips parted on a soundless breath.
They stared at each other. The electricity crackling between them was enough to power every tool and machine in that garage.
As Warrick watched, her eyes lowered to his throat, following the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed convulsively. Her gaze lingered there for a moment before dropping lower. Warrick’s heart thudded as she stared at his bare chest, her eyes filled with a smoldering, naked hunger that knocked the air from his lungs.
“Touch me,” he commanded, hoarse with need.
Raina raised her eyes to his taut face.
“Please,” he whispered huskily.
Slowly and tentatively, she lifted her hand. Warrick watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she experimentally laid her palm against his chest. A hard shudder swept through him. Her hand was soft and incredibly warm, her touch searing his skin. All the blood in his body seemed to converge upon that single point of contact before rushing, hot and heavy, to his loins.
His heart thundered furiously as Raina began to explore him, trailing her fingers over the thick cords of his shoulders and along the rigid planes of his chest. Warrick couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, a woman’s touch had wreaked such havoc on his senses. When her hand grazed his nipple, it hardened. Her lips parted slightly, as if she were surprised that she could elicit such a response from him. Fascinated, she brushed her thumb back and forth across the flat dark nipple, teasing and tormenting him. Warrick closed his eyes, swallowing a ragged groan. It escaped a moment later when her roaming hand slid down to his abdomen, inching ever closer to where his engorged shaft strained against the zipper of his jeans.
Warrick opened his eyes, and their gazes locked.
No words were spoken.
He lowered his head and slanted his mouth over hers.
At the first touch of her warm, luscious lips beneath his, a jolt of pure need sizzled through his veins and raced to his groin. She tasted like heaven, her mouth so soft and inviting it was as though she had been anticipating this moment her entire life. Warrick sure as hell felt like he had. Kissing Raina was unlike anything he had ever imagined.
Wanting to take his time and savor her, he molded his mouth to hers, exploring the soft, sensual contours of her lips. She trembled beneath him. He sank his fingers into the thick, silken mass of her hair, his other hand banding around her waist to draw her against the full length of his body. She leaned into him, her arms sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. Warrick shuddered at the feel of her soft, round breasts crushed to his chest. As he traced his tongue over her lips and licked the inner seam, she shivered, rocking her hips against his pelvis. Warrick felt a dark thrill of pleasure.
He opened his mouth over hers, urging her lips to part, demanding it. The moment they did, he plunged his tongue inside the sweet, velvety heat of her mouth. She let out a broken moan, the sound igniting his blood. The kiss exploded. Teeth scraped. Tongues tangled feverishly, erotically. In the space of a heartbeat Warrick went from kissing her to ravaging her.
He cupped her breast, and she gasped into his mouth. Through the thin cotton of her tank top, he circled the outline of her nipple with the pad of his thumb. Her breast swelled in his hand, her nipple beaded beneath his touch. His other hand roamed down her spine, spanning her flared waist before cupping her lush, shapely bottom and holding her tightly against his throbbing erection. Her husky moan of pleasure joined his own.
He dragged his mouth from hers to nuzzle the delicate, sensitive skin behind her ear before trailing lower, raining kisses along her throat. Her skin was as soft as silk, hot and damp with perspiration. He inhaled her scent, an intoxicating blend of the light, exotic perfume she wore mingled with her own natural essence. He flicked his tongue over the pulse beating at the hollow of her neck and gently suckled her. She whimpered his name, cupping the back of his head and urging him closer as his lips returned hungrily to hers.
In a dim corner of his mind, a voice reminded Warrick that this woman was his enemy, a woman who could not be trusted. But in that moment he didn’t give a damn about old feuds. All that mattered was quenching the fire in his blood.
With all his experience, Warrick had thought he was familiar with every physical sensation imaginable. But there was no precedence for this savage, insatiable need pounding through his body, making him a slave to his most primal instincts and desires. He wanted to bury himself deep inside Raina’s tight, slippery heat. He wanted to devour her.
With a rough, guttural sound, he slammed down the hood of the Thunderbird, grasped her bottom and lifted her onto the car. Her eyes widened slightly, and for an instant Warrick was afraid she would come to her senses and push him away. But when he stepped between her legs, she wrapped them tightly around his waist. He groaned, the sound both tortured and relieved. Their lips and tongues fused in a hot, carnal kiss that left them both panting. Suddenly the air in the garage seemed hotter than before, thick with the musk of their arousal. A slick sheen of
sweat covered their bodies, and their pounding heartbeats blended as one.
Warrick couldn’t get enough of Raina. Her taste, her heady scent, the silken warmth of her skin, the voluptuous curves of her body. Sucking on her bottom lip, he rubbed his bare chest against her nipples until the friction made them stand out. She groaned and clung to his shoulders.
He could feel the tension tightening in her limbs, could hear her breath coming in short, ragged gasps that matched his own. Her hips writhed frantically against him, grinding against his erection in a manner that threatened to drive him over the edge. Through the thick fog of desire clouding his brain, he thought about carrying her inside the house, taking her to the spare bedroom he used whenever he stayed with his uncle. The king-size bed with the cool cotton sheets would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than the hood of a car.
But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. The thought of leaving Raina’s embrace, even temporarily, was out of the question.
And then she reached behind him and squeezed his butt, and he sucked in a sharp breath. They rocked against each other, a slow, sensual grind that left no doubt in Warrick’s mind that their lovemaking would be a soul-shattering experience.
Hands tangling in her hair, Warrick deepened the openmouthed kiss, his hips thrusting against her in a blatantly erotic imitation of what he wanted to do to her with no barriers separating their bodies. Raina moaned, eagerly matching his rhythm. He reached between their bodies and cupped her mound, imagining the glorious heat and wetness that lay just beyond his touch. Raina shivered hard. And then suddenly she stiffened. Her nails bit into his back and she arched in his arms, her head falling back as she let out a hoarse, startled cry. Warrick held her trembling body, reveling in the force of her release even as moments later his own body bucked violently, shocking him, tearing a raw expletive from his throat.
They clutched each other tightly for several moments, their foreheads resting against each other’s, their chests heaving as they struggled for breath.
At length Warrick lifted his head and gazed down at Raina. Her face was flushed, her hair was disheveled and her dark eyes were wide with stunned disbelief.
“I—I can’t believe we just did that,” she whispered.
“Neither can I,” Warrick admitted huskily.
They stared at each other.
A moment later they heard Randall’s voice, talking on his cell phone as he approached the garage.
With a panicked expression, Raina scrambled off the hood of the Thunderbird, batting aside Warrick’s hand as he tried to help her down. She smoothed down her hair and tugged her tank top back into place.
“Raina—”
“I have to go,” she said breathlessly, stepping around the broken glass on the floor as she hurried away from him.
On her way out of the garage she nearly collided with Randall. He smiled at her as he ended his call and tucked his phone into the back pocket of his blue coveralls.
“Leaving so soon, baby girl?”
Raina nodded, mustering a wobbly smile. “I don’t want to be late for dinner with my sister. We get together every Tuesday, and she’s a stickler for punctuality.”
Randall chuckled. “I understand. Well, at least let Warrick walk you to your car.”
“No!” When Randall arched a brow at her, she said less vehemently, “I mean, that’s all right. I—I can see myself out.” She leaned on tiptoe, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me see your prize on wheels. She’s every bit as special as you said she was.”
Across the room, Warrick smiled at the irony of her words.
Without sparing him a backward glance, Raina beat a hasty retreat.
Randall stared after her for a moment, then turned to look questioningly at his nephew. “What in God’s name did you do to that young lady?”
“Not half as much as I wanted to,” Warrick muttered under his breath, low enough not to be overheard.
Still eyeing him suspiciously, Randall started across the garage. As he neared Warrick, his brows furrowed when he noticed the broken glass on the floor. “What the hell happened in here?”
“An accident. I need a shower,” Warrick announced abruptly, brushing past his frowning uncle.
“What about this mess on the floor?”
“I’ll clean it up when I get back.”
Right after I clean up the mess in my damned pants.
Chapter 7
When Raina was sixteen years old, she had her first dream about Warrick, a sensual, fog-drenched dream that had left her with a guilty smile on her face when she’d awakened. Of all the steamy dreams that had followed over the years—and there had been plenty—none could have prepared her for the powerfully erotic interlude she had just experienced with Warrick.
As she sped away from his uncle’s house like a thief fleeing a crime scene, her heart hammering against her ribs and her head spinning wildly, she felt torn between exhilaration and horror. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, though the sweet, pulsing ache between her legs told her the encounter with Warrick had been all too real. After a lifetime of prayer and supplication, Raina had finally gotten her wish. Warrick had kissed her—and it had far surpassed all her fantasies and expectations.
Raina pressed her fist against her mouth to stifle the hysterical sound that bubbled up in her throat, something between a laugh and a sob.
What in the world had she been thinking?
She’d been in trouble the moment she had stepped into the garage and seen Warrick standing across the room, a smudge of grease on his rugged jaw, his impossibly broad shoulders and wide chest planed with hard, sinewy muscle that glistened with sweat. Her mouth had gone dry, and her legs had turned to water. It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to appear calm and collected, when all she wanted to do was fly across the room and jump his damned bones.
All bets were off once they were left alone.
Raina shivered, a slow, delicious heat curling through her veins at the memory of touching Warrick’s powerfully built chest, his skin feeling like steel beneath warm silk. The heat of his mouth, the feel of those soft, sensual lips moving possessively over hers, had her wanting to climb inside him. The way he kissed—slow, deep and drugging—left no doubt in her mind that he was a magnificent lover, a skilled, patient lover who would take his time to bring her body and soul to unimagined heights of ecstasy.
Raina let out an agonized groan as she slowed to a red traffic light. She dropped her face into her hands and deeply inhaled. Almost immediately she realized what a mistake that had been, because she could still smell Warrick on her hands, a masculine musk of sweat and desire that went straight to her head and flooded her loins.
Closing her eyes, she shoved her hands between her clamped thighs as a fresh wave of arousal threatened another orgasm.
What the hell was wrong with her, getting off on a man’s scent like some animal in heat! And not just any man, either. Warrick Mayne. The last man on earth she should have allowed herself to get so worked up over.
The only man she’d ever gotten worked up over.
She’d had no business touching him, kissing him, wrapping her legs around his waist and writhing desperately against him. They’d practically had sex on the hood of his uncle’s car! If Randall Mayne had returned a second sooner, Raina would have been mortified beyond belief to be caught in such a compromising position. But Warrick had been as cool as the proverbial cucumber, leaving Raina to wonder if he did this sort of thing all the time.
Of course he does, her conscience mocked. He’s Warrick Mayne. He earned his playboy reputation as legitimately as he earned his fortune.
If that weren’t enough to convince her to steer clear of the man, the fact that he was her enemy, that he was on a mission to put her out of business, should have done the trick.
But it hadn’t.
Nothing had stopped her from succumbing to temptation and melting in Warrick’s arms. And now that he had discerne
d her weakness for him, Raina knew that he was ruthless enough—vindictive enough—to try to exploit his advantage. She couldn’t let that happen.
Raina was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t realize she had reached her sister’s house until she nearly rear-ended the shiny silver Lexus luxury sedan parked in the driveway. She stomped on the brake just in time, jerking to a stop behind the car.
She breathed in deeply to compose herself, then climbed out of the car and made her way up to the large, two-story redbrick house with tall windows and surrounded by an impeccably manicured lawn.
The woman who answered the door bore such a striking resemblance to Raina that the two women, though four years apart, had often been mistaken for twins. They were both the same height at five-six, sharing the same high cheekbones, full lips and slanted dark eyes that others had been known to teasingly call “cat eyes.” The two sisters had even cut their shoulder-length dark hair in similar styles. The most obvious difference in their appearance was their complexions. While Raina was golden-brown, Reese St. James’s flawless mahogany skin, combined with her exotic eyes, often made her look like a Senegalese supermodel.
Raina, who had always envied her sister’s complexion, had spent countless hours in the sun hoping to get darker. But all she ever got for her trouble was sunburn. Ironically, she didn’t develop an appreciation for her own skin tone until one summer afternoon at Galveston Beach, Warrick, splashing and frolicking in the water with his siblings, had called out to Raina, “Hey, golden girl, you afraid of water or something?”
It had been one of those exquisitely rare moments when he had given any indication that he knew she was alive. After receiving his invitation, Raina, who had been shy about letting him see her in a swimsuit, had peeled off her T-shirt and waded eagerly into the water. Of course, Warrick hadn’t spared her another glance for the rest of the day.
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