She realized on her third pass through the living room that there was something odd.
Nothing personal.
Not one shred of anything that would suggest that Rafe Black lived here. The house had come furnished, but certainly Rafe had pictures of his family or other mementos with personal significance. She frowned and casually opened a few drawers in the antique buffet against the living room wall. Aside from a few dust shavings, empty. Hmm… She eyed the closed door with open speculation. The mystery of Rafe Black deepened. She’d never been much for subterfuge, which was why this venture went against the grain of her nature, but she knew she didn’t have the luxury of flat-out asking him what he was hiding, so she would have to manipulate Rafe into giving her answers. But how far was she willing to go for those answers?
The answer was easy enough—she’d go as far as she had to. There was more at stake than one person’s feelings. Besides, Rafe was a big boy; he could handle whatever she dished out and likely hand it right back to her with an extra serving of hot sauce on the side. A delicate ripple of awareness shuddered through her and she drew a halting breath. No doubt, she played a dangerous game.
Tapping her finger against her folded arm, she pondered her next move. She couldn’t very well get answers from the man when he refused to spend more than a few minutes in her company. She had to break down those barriers and fast. The luxury of time wasn’t hers, and therefore she couldn’t wait for him to come around on his own.
She wasn’t much of a cook, but she could whip up a nice batch of hot tea. At least that would give her an excuse to approach him instead of just standing outside his door, whining to be let in because she was lonely and out of her element.
Mug in hand, she softly knocked and held her breath. Would he ignore her? Should she knock more loudly? How far should she take it? Don’t be rude and obnoxious, she chided herself before she banged harder on the door. Maybe he was asleep....
Just as she turned to take the steaming mug back to the kitchen, the door opened and Rafe, bare chested and wearing a loose pair of soft linen shorts, stood there looking sexier than she’d ever imagined he could be. Her mouth went dry and she momentarily forgot she was holding a mug for a purpose. She thrust the cup at him, sloshing a bit like a dolt, and exclaimed as he sucked in a short breath when a hot drop landed on his midsection. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” she said, distressed at her utter lack of finesse when she needed it. “I just thought you might like some tea.... I didn’t mean to bother you. Here, let me get a towel.”
“It’s fine,” he assured her, grabbing an old T-shirt draped over the hamper by the door. He rubbed the wet spot away and offered a subtle grin. “See? Easily fixed. You found everything all right?”
“Yes. The labels on the cabinets are helpful,” she said, omitting the part where she’d stared incredulously at the orderly nature of his cabinets and how everything had corresponded to the label on the outside. “Are you always that organized?”
“It’s a little OCD, isn’t it?”
“A little.”
A lot.
“However, if you’re ever of a mind to start dating, you might want to disclose your penchant for labeling.” She handed him the mug, this time more gently, which he accepted with a wry, almost chagrined smile that she immediately found cause for question. “What?”
“I don’t drink tea.”
She frowned. “Then why do you have it in your cabinet?”
“My mom always said it’s good to have tea in the house for the guests who don’t drink coffee.”
“And do you entertain a lot of guests?”
“No.” He shrugged. “Force of habit, I guess.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll take that back to the kitchen, then,” she said, taking the mug. “Do you drink hot chocolate?”
He leaned against the doorjamb, amused. “Not typically when it’s this hot. I prefer water, actually.”
“Right, because of the whole soda ban,” she grumbled. The first thing she’d noticed when she moved here was the absence of soda, or not that it couldn’t be found, but you really had to look around. Then she found out that the drinking of soda was actively discouraged. In fact, Heidi, the nutrition Nazi, was said to go ballistic if she found out one of her patients had been sneaking the stuff on the side. “Well, I like an ice-cold soda now and then,” she said, almost daring him to say something to the contrary.
With that, Rafe pushed off from the jamb and gestured for her to follow.
Intrigued, she followed him to the pantry, where he bent to retrieve something pushed to the back. He pulled out a can of cola. Her mouth watered just seeing the can, but as soon as he poured it over a glass of ice, she nearly wept with joy.
“It’s like crack,” she said, closing her eyes and savoring the tingling rush as the sugar and carbonation kicked her tastebuds alive. “After weeks of water and ice tea, this is heaven.”
He chuckled and she opened her eyes to regard him with renewed curiosity. “A closet rule breaker, huh? Who’d have thought the buttoned-down doctor had a wild side?” Rafe didn’t deny it; in fact, he seemed flattered. Emboldened, she ventured into deeper territory. “So, tell me…what about Cold Plains calls to you?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, the walls going up instantly. “I already told you. I was looking for something more meaningful to do with my life. Cold Plains seemed like it had a solid foundation in the values I believe in. Why do you find that unusual?”
“I don’t,” she insisted, shaking her head, but maybe she was a bit too quick with her denial, because he continued to regard her with that probing stare that made her feel stripped bare. She tucked her bottom lip against her teeth, wondering how to salvage the conversation without appearing needy, nosy or just plain obnoxious. She took a deep breath and said, “When my mom died I was searching for something to believe in, something to heal the hole in my heart. When I discovered Cold Plains, I thought I’d found that something. Then I met you. And from that moment, I’ve always sensed that you were searching for something, too. So, naturally, I have to wonder what you were searching for and if you found it.” His mouth firmed, as if seaming shut against the urge to share what he might regret later, and she knew her window of opportunity was small. She pressed on, saying, “Rafe…I respect you’re a private person and I hope I’m not pushing where I ought to butt out. However, I know how it feels to be alone in this world, and I guess what I’m trying to say is…if you need someone to talk to…I’m here.”
A heartbeat passed between them and Darcy held her breath. Had she pushed too hard? His entire body seemed to vibrate with tension or maybe it was something else, but whatever it was, it was powerful enough to curl her toes and instinctively tighten the muscles in her stomach. When he started stalking toward her, slow and deliberate, as if daring her to stop him, she was too stunned to do more than just stare in anticipation.
There was no mistaking the look in his eyes—almost feral and definitely primal—and suddenly she felt out of her league. No longer was she the one manipulating the man, and her knees turned to jelly. She managed a breathy “Rafe…” her intent to remind him that they wanted to keep lines drawn and all that nonsense, but in truth, she wanted the taste of Rafe on her tongue, the feel of his mouth possessing hers, and there was no amount of posturing and polite distancing that would stop either of them.
Alarms and bells went off in his head, but they faded with each step closer to Darcy. Was this an epically bad idea? Yes. Could he stop himself? No.
He framed her face with his hands, cupping each side tenderly, and covered her mouth with his, coaxing and demanding all at once. A dark thrill arced through him, electrifying every nerve ending, igniting a fire that devoured what was left of his common sense, incinerating any vestige of restraint he might’ve possessed.
Her lips, soft and giving against his, opened and their tongues tangled. He backed her against the kitchen counter until she met resistance, and she hopped onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his torso. She clutched at him, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, rubbing her hot core against his middle. He could feel the heat radiating from her center and could smell the subtle, intoxicating musk of her arousal. He wanted this woman so much his teeth ached. He cupped her butt and slid her to him. He carried her away from the counter, his mouth never leaving hers, and he took her to his bedroom.
“Wait…” she said against his mouth even as her hands curled into the short hairs of his nape. “This isn’t part of our roommate agreement, is it?” she asked, pulling away to regard him with swollen lips and half-mast lids. “Because that’s not what I had in mind when—”
“I know,” he acknowledged with a groan, setting her down on his bed gently, the brief moment of clarity clearing the hormone-induced haze on his brain. He raked his hand through his hair, gritting his teeth against the chorus of self-recriminations reverberating in his head for losing his control when it came to Darcy. “I don’t know what came over me.... I can only say it won’t happen again.” He went to help her up, but as she clasped his hand, she jerked him to her so he nearly fell on top of her. He startled, staring down into her eyes, confused. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t say I had a problem with it. I just want to be sure that there wasn’t an expectation. If I choose to sleep with you, that’s my choice. And I choose yes,” she said before sealing her mouth to his, cutting off any protest to the contrary. Her tongue demanded his and he gladly gave it to her, while his hands roamed her body, learning its individual curves and valleys. Their breathing became shallow under the force of their arousal. She drew away, her stare hungry and wild. “What are you waiting for? Pants off, please.”
“You first,” he growled, circling her. She grinned and within seconds she’d ripped her clothes from her body to throw on the floor. At first he could only stare. Full, ripe breasts, enough for a mouthful and then some, were tipped by pebbled, mocha nipples that begged to be sucked and played with nimble fingers. His erection strained painfully, reminding him how long it’d been since he’d known the touch of a woman, and he didn’t waste another moment mired in indecision. They were consenting adults. They could handle a mature conversation later about the ramifications of their actions.
He stripped and when her eyes alighted on his erection, plainly delighted with what he had to offer, he swore he might’ve grown a bit more.
“I knew there was something wild hiding behind that buttoned-down-doctor persona,” she said, beckoning him with her finger to join her. “What else are you hiding, Dr. Black?”
He covered her with a growl. “Let me show you, Ms. Craven. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
Her skin slid beneath his fingertips as his mouth nibbled along her collarbone, dipping down to the valley of her breasts. He cupped both, slipping his tongue over the tight budded tips, burying his face between the full mounds of creamy flesh while his erection jerked, eager to sink into the hot, wet folds he fantasized about in his darkest nights. He couldn’t help the moan that popped from his lips when Darcy gripped him solidly in her hand, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to rocket his arousal onto the next plane. He rolled to his back and she popped on top, the moist heat of her center teasing the head of his erection so that he surged against her.
She laughed and wagged her finger at him. “Not so fast. I may be young but I’m not dumb. I thought you were a gentleman,” she teased, her eyes twinkling in a maddeningly sexy manner that only made it more difficult for him to focus. “Me first,” she instructed with a low purr that made him nearly swallow his Adam’s apple. A woman who took control and knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it… Rafe was only too happy to oblige.
They rolled again, this time with Rafe landing on top. He held both her hands above her head as he took his fill, gazing at her jutting breasts and trembling belly. How had he thought he could stay away from such a temptress, particularly now that she lived under his roof? He’d lost that fight the minute he’d agreed to this crazy idea, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He offered a wolfish grin, murmuring with total pleasure, “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” before traveling down the length of her body to end at the juncture of her thighs. He settled at her womanly folds, nearly losing it when he heard her sharp gasp followed by a breathy moan, and then set about the task of ensuring that the lady came, not only first but again and again....
Chapter 14
D
arcy awoke in Rafe’s bed to the dawn cresting the horizon. She’d slept hard. Maybe she hadn’t really been sleeping well at the hotel, or maybe she hadn’t been sleeping well because of the recent death of her mother, but last night, she’d crashed like a drunk in lockdown.
She turned and saw, with a puzzled frown, she was alone. “Rafe?” she called out, listening for sounds of movement in the house but it was deadly silent. She checked the bedside alarm clock. It was only 5:00 a.m. He wouldn’t have gone to the office so early. Would he? She gathered the comforter to her, realizing she didn’t know his habits at all. Maybe he did go to the office at the crack of dawn. But to leave her like that? Without so much as a “thanks, babe” before skipping out the door? A frown gathered as her temper started to flare.
Okay, wait,
a voice that sounded a lot like her mother cautioned. She was jumping to conclusions. Darcy kicked the covers free and slid from the bed and into slippers and a robe she found on the side. Although she was tall, the robe dwarfed her in a deliciously masculine way, and the fact that it smelled like Rafe only made her want to wear it all day.
Don’t go getting attached,
she told herself.
Just because you had the most amazing, knock-your-socks-off, going-to-Jesus sex of your life doesn’t mean you’re ready to start picking out china patterns.
She wandered into the kitchen and saw a note taped to the refrigerator door. Plucking it free, she read.