by CC MacKenzie
“Since this morning.”
“How?”
She looked down at him.
And the way his eyes never left hers made her shiver even more.
“I have a SAT ‘phone. I spoke to Louise.”
He merely nodded. “Where’s the phone?”
“I left it behind some rocks in a plastic bag.” She kept her eyes on his. “In case you decided to snoop.”
Something flashed in his eyes.
“So all this today about me being your brother was payback?”
Why the hurt look, the indignation?
How dare he take the high ground?
Had he forgotten what he and her dear father had done?
“Try and keep hold of that fear for a moment,” she told him. “It’s nothing to what’s coming to you.”
He stood and he was too close she decided.
Sheer temper flared in his eyes along with something else she couldn’t identify.
She took a step back and he followed.
“It hasn’t dawned on you I did it to protect you, has it? We got your father out of the country because it’s more than possible Kandinsky will target your family. It didn’t enter your head that I didn’t have time to argue with you. It didn’t occur to you that I care, that I worry about you?”
An unladylike snort of utter contempt escaped from Coco’s throat.
Her chin came up and she beaned him with a glare.
“Did you feel your heart pound when I was under the water? Did you feel upset and scared when you thought I was hurt? Not nice is it? Well, increase those feelings one hundred times and that’s what you did to me, you bastard. It has nothing to do with caring about me, you hypocrite. It’s about control. Neither you nor dear daddy gave me the opportunity to discuss the best course of action.”
Her eyes drifted south and she tried desperately not to notice his long, muscular thighs or the hairline now exposed by his sodden white bottoms, which clung to and revealed every impressive curve. Annoyance with herself and the way her treacherous heart kicked made her tone harsh.
“Oh no, the pair of you concocted a plan.” Running her hands through her dripping hair she met his eyes. “You took away my ability to choose.” She poked a finger into his chest with each word. “I demand to be treated like an adult.”
He caught her hand, and went nose to nose.
She couldn’t help but shudder at the dark, demanding look in his eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone so fucking stubborn, so fucking argumentative in my whole fucking life. You’re so wrong about so many things and on so many levels. But you want to be treated like an adult? Okay. Let’s start now shall we?”
Large hands gripped her robe, tore it from her body and tossed it aside before she could catch her outraged breath.
Her hands covered her breasts.
“What are you doing?” Her voice squeaked as he peeled off his wet pyjama bottoms. Oh, my God.
He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and marched through the gardens, into the house.
“You’re cold and wet. I’m going to warm you up.”
Sheer heady delight warred with righteous indignation.
She folded her arms over nipples that bloomed like flowers in the moonlight and stared into his face.
“And this is treating me like an adult?”
His eyes caught hers and he gave a slow, incredibly sexy smile that made her heart boom against her ribs.
“Oh, yeah.”
He strode through the hall, up the stairs to his bedroom, into the bathroom.
And he stuck them both under a vast shower, slapped it on. Illicit excitement scurried up her spine as he turned her in his arms and pressed her back against the wall. The frantic pulse in her ears almost made her dizzy.
She’d been pushing him for this all day.
She had him exactly where she wanted him and couldn’t wait.
His eyes, dark and intense, searched hers.
He caught her face between his big hands to get the angle just right.
“You drive me fucking crazy.”
Water cascaded over them as he pushed his erection into her soft belly.
A thrill, erotic, needy, raced up her spine as her breasts swelled and the liquid heat pooling between her legs beat with a relentless ache.
Why couldn’t she find her voice?
His eyes never left hers.
“Coco?”
She realised he was waiting for her to make the first move.
Whatever happened next was her decision.
Her hands slid around his lean waist and down over tight hard buttocks.
With a low moan that fabulous mouth captured hers.
There it was again, the roar in her ears, the way her stomach fell as her mind went blank. And the wonderful jolt around her heart. Coco realised with something like shock there was nothing soft, nothing gentle about this kiss. It was hot, slick, feverishly demanding as her mouth wrestled with his for dominance.
Of their own volition, her fingers swept up his back, up his neck, gripping his wet hair. She pressed her body into the lean, hard length of his, writhing against him.
Their tongues battled like weapons of pleasure.
She wanted to drown in him, sink into him.
Coco’s breath came in desperate little pants into his mouth.
At last he was almost home.
Her mouth gave, Rafe took and he plundered.
Any finesse was forgotten as his hands roamed ruthlessly over that hot, wet, silky skin.
She shuddered and gasped into his mouth, trembling under his fingers.
God, he’d never had a woman so responsive to him like this.
He realised he couldn’t do it, couldn’t make love to her for the first time in a shower.
One hand slapped off the water as the other grabbed a bath sheet and he wrapped it around her.
Her eyes went wide and dark.
Those lips opened and a couple of breaths panted in anticipation as he gathered her in his arms and headed for his bed.
But he couldn’t stop kissing her.
Her mouth was so eager and giving, he wanted more of it.
They landed on the bed and his lips trailed a path from her mouth, down her neck to her breast and she arched like a cat under him.
God, she tasted fabulous.
Her breathless pants made his aching cock burn.
Hunger for her raged in his system as his hands roamed over that soft pliant body.
“Please, touch me,” she begged.
Husky with need her voice tipped him over the edge.
“Touching won’t be enough,” he groaned into her mouth and her hips arched towards him.
Coco seriously thought she was going to die if he didn’t stroke her secret places throbbing with a slick need for him.
“Move closer, touch me.”
She was begging and didn’t give a damn.
His fingers trailed down between her breasts and his mouth caught hers again.
She sank, mindlessly, into a world that consisted purely of dark, sensual pleasure.
When his fingers stroked her inner thigh, she shuddered and arched her pelvis.
Take me, she urged him with her body.
A part of her mind recognised she’d surrendered herself totally and completely to this man.
And she loved it.
Her hand searched for him.
And she shook with pure pleasure when she touched his rock hard shaft with shy fingers.
It was thick and long and big.
Too big?
His hand grasped hers as he muttered into her throat.
“Not yet, darling, or it will all be over before it starts.”
“You’re huge,” the thought was out of her mouth before she realised it, her voice wobbling with nerves.
Rafe leaned back to study her face, his hand constantly stroking her thigh to soothe her.
His eyes narrowed.
“The
way your trembling you would think you’ve never done this before.”
The flash of panic in her eyes made him pull back to look at her carefully.
Testing, he ran a finger over her hot, wet centre.
And she nearly levitated off the bed.
Yes, she was ready for him, but the nerves in her eyes and that frantic pulse in her neck made him keep his eyes on hers as he slid one finger near her entrance. Her internal muscles clutched one and then two careful fingers as she moaned and shuddered.
Taking great care, he probed deeper, pushing further and the barrier of her hymen was clear.
Christ, she was a virgin?
But she’d had plenty of boyfriends.
The press was full of her exploits.
Confused, he sat and pulled her into his arms.
His stinging cock pulsed agonisingly against her hip as she groaned into his throat.
“You’re killing me,” she moaned.
And he knew exactly how she felt.
“You’re untouched, Coco.” His hand was trembling with his need for her as he lifted her chin to look into vivid eyes wild and dazed with arousal. Then he gave her a shake. “You lied to me.”
With a long moan, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down.
“Saving face, for God’s sake Rafe, kiss me.”
For one heartbeat, two, he almost gave into temptation.
While his body screamed for release, Coco whimpered into his throat.
And he wanted to throw her on her back, to spread those endless legs wide and simply ram himself into her.
But if he did that he’d hurt her because he was too far-gone to take care with her.
The reality of his situation was like a sucker punch to the throat.
Every single thing he’d thought was a certainty about this woman - that she was promiscuous, a party animal - was now blown out of the water.
He had no idea who she was.
God damn her to hell.
He needed time to think!
Swearing like a trooper he thrust her from him, rose to his feet and strode to his closet, tugged on jeans and yanked a T-shirt over his head.
“Rafe?”
The devastation, the bewilderment in her voice spiked his temper along with his arousal.
Jesus, his cock was fucking killing him.
Absolutely furious, he turned to her.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” He took a step towards her. “I could have hurt you. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” She covered herself with the cotton sheet and opened her mouth. He held up a hand. “No, say nothing. I can’t trust myself around you.”
Christ, he’d almost plunged into her.
He was a big man, slightly longer than average, but his penis was wide and thick.
Certainly he’d had no complaints from women he’d bedded, but he might have scared her, damaged her.
The thought of physically hurting Coco made him feel ill.
Again, fury spiked.
He opened the door.
“Where are you going?” The way her voice wobbled, filled with pain and confusion, had him pause.
Fingers on the door handle Rafe closed his eyes, took a breath and turned to look at her.
Those fabulous violet eyes were too big and swimming with hurt.
She looked as if he’d taken a big stick and beaten her.
“A walk. I need to think.”
Chapter Thirty One
Sheer frustration made Rafe walk fast.
Sheer instinct took him to the swimming pool.
With a heavy sigh he sat on a lounger and took a deep breath.
Dear God, for the second time in less than an hour she’d terrified him.
The ground under his feet had shifted, he could admit it now.
He had no idea what to do about the feelings churning in his belly.
His skin felt too tight and too constricted.
What the fuck had all those stories been about her and her men in the press?
One in particular brought bile to his throat. A kiss and tell by a male model. The man had made a fortune with lurid details of his affair with Coco.
Charles Monroe had threatened to sue, but his daughter had just shrugged it off saying it wasn’t important, that it was a four-minute wonder.
With something like a vice tightening his chest Rafe realised she’d deliberately cultivated the specific public persona of the spoilt heiress, of a petulant, pouting diva. And she’d conned each and every one of them, including him, he now realised with dismay.
But why?
For First Step?
He simply couldn’t get his head around it.
How long he sat there with his brain fighting to work out the facts, he’d no idea.
His desperate need for her still ached like a bitch between his legs.
She was fucking destroying him.
Gazing into a clear night sky, into the millions of stars in the universe, at last Rafe’s mind used logic rather than emotion.
A bitter memory surfaced of her standing before her father when Charles had told his daughter her trust fund would not be available until she was thirty. He’d caught the shock in her violet eyes. The disappointment and dismay along with what he realised now was a devastating hurt.
Coco hadn’t argued, hadn’t said a word.
She’d just turned around and left.
No temper, no tantrums.
They’d underestimated her in every conceivable way.
The truth slammed him with the force of a fist to the throat.
And he realised that by totally surrendering herself to him tonight she’d told him without words that she loved him.
God, she loved him.
And by walking out on her tonight he’d broken her heart, again.
It appeared to be a recurring pattern of behaviour with him.
He stood, stretched out aching limbs, and swore he would never hurt her again.
Entering the house he headed for the kitchen and switched on the kettle.
He’d make Coco her all time favourite treat, hot chocolate with marshmallows.
They needed to talk and he needed a stiff drink.
A glance at the wall clock told him he’d left her for almost two hours.
An ear-piercing scream made him jolt.
Grabbing a knife from the block, Rafe bolted from the kitchen.
Heart pounding, he took the stairs two at a time and charged into his bedroom to find Coco’s arms thrashing, her legs tangled in the sheets.
Between one heartbeat and another he realised she was in the grip of a brutal nightmare.
Sweat dampened her hair, beaded on her forehead, her top lip.
She gave a sobbing breath and a heartfelt mutter of, “Blood everywhere.”
Desperate fingers clawed at her thin vest and at the underside of her breast where the livid scar ran in a sinister line towards her armpit.
“Can’t breathe,” she sobbed.
Her gasp, the terrified moan of agony, had him drop the knife and scoop her up in his arms.
Seriously unnerved by her condition, his shaky fingers brushed through her hair.
Holding her head to his chest, he spoke in her ear. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Your dreaming.”
With a jerk Coco awoke struggling desperately.
Long legs thrashed and a flying fist caught him on the chin.
Christ, he didn’t want to hurt her but he plunged them both to the bed and lay on top of her.
Holding her hands out to the side, he gripped her wrists and pinned her under him.
“Stop. It’s me, Coco.”
Her speeding heart thundered against his chest as she stared unseeing up into his face.
Understanding entered those huge, terrified eyes and she took a long, shuddering breath.
Releasing her, Rafe lay on his side and curled his body around hers, pressing his lips to her damp hair.
“You’ve had a God awful ni
ghtmare.”
Her body gave a single shudder in his arms.
“I didn’t feel the knife go in. I can’t see him. I never saw him.”
“He’s gone, baby. He’ll never hurt anyone again.”
But by her big dazed eyes it was obvious she couldn’t hear him.
“I didn’t wait for Samson. It was all my own fault. I didn’t listen. Why don’t I ever listen?”
Hoarse with emotion, her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat.
Frowning into her hair, Rafe inhaled the scent of her and nuzzled the top of her head.
“You’ve lost me. How was it your fault that a mentally ill man attacked you?”
She took a shaky breath and he held her tighter.
“Samson repeatedly told me to wait until the path was cleared. I didn’t listen. We’d received threatening letters, horrible letters, warning me...”
He placed his hands either side of her head, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“It’s not your fault. The man was ill. No one could have foreseen what he’d do. Give yourself a break.” Holding her close, Rafe whispered in her ear and opened his heart. “We spent five long days and nights in that damned hospital.” He studied her hot face. “You scared me.”
Big eyes stared into his.
They were clearer now and a heady sense of relief washed through him.
“You were at the hospital?”
The tone held complete disbelief and made him smile.
“Damned right I was. Your father, Ethan, Louise and me. We never left you, not for a second. Not until you were out of intensive care.”
She frowned.
“But, I never saw you.”
His fingers couldn’t help but stroke her shoulder.
Her skin still felt too hot.
“You were out of it for days. I took the night shift. Your father and Ethan split the day shift. That’s when I decided life was too short. And that I’d see what we might have together.”
Her brow creased as her brain tried to compute, but her eyes still looked glazed, shocked.
Perhaps she was running a fever?
He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.
Yep, she was burning up.
“Baby, I need to get you something for that temperature you’re running.”
Lifting her in his arms, she wound her arms around his neck and he strode out the bedroom.