Love Me if You Dare (19 page)

Rafe inclined his head. “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard all day.”

“I also wanted you to read my article before I turn it in. Give you a chance to make sure you’re okay with how I laid out Pirro’s role.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “And I just might have misjudged you, as well.”

Coop shrugged. “I never let anyone vet my stuff before. Consider it a favor for a friend.” He winked at Sara.

She immediately felt guilty for being annoyed he’d shown up unannounced earlier. “Thanks, Coop.”

“No problem. Just leave me with Rafe’s e-mail. Now, can I steal you two to go talk to Amanda before she leaves town?” he asked.

Rafe nodded. “No time like the present.”

Coop started for the door.

Rafe grasped her wrist, and she turned toward him. “Rain check?” he asked.

She couldn’t contain her smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Sara believed in glomming the good, because she never knew how long it would last.

S
ARA
, R
AFE AND
C
OOP
caught up with Amanda outside Angel’s as she was packing her car for the ride home. Rafe and Sara held back while Coop asked her to stay, at least long enough for a talk.

From her nod, Sara assumed she was willing.

Coop waved them over, and they joined Amanda and Coop by the car.

“Coop says you all want to talk?” Amanda asked, sounding confused.

Sara inclined her head. “If you don’t mind delaying your trip for a little while.”

Amanda shrugged. “I’m in no rush.”

“Then why don’t we go back inside. I’m sure Angel won’t mind if we use her living room.” Rafe gestured toward the house.

Amanda walked down the path, her ponytail bobbing against her back as if she were a young kid, not a newspaper reporter who wielded power with the written word.

Once they were settled inside, Amanda spoke first. “So, where’s the fire? What’s the emergency and why do you all need to talk to me?”

Angel’s living room was a warm, inviting space
and Sara hoped Amanda took her cues from the feeling. Considering the woman had already refused to stop her blog when Captain Hodges asked directly, she couldn’t imagine why she’d do so now.

“We want to talk to you about the Bachelor Blog,” Coop said to Amanda.

Sara studied the other woman intently.

Amanda met Coop’s gaze. “I don’t understand. Did you want me to talk to Stan about the blog?” she asked.

“That’s our editor in chief,” Coop explained to Sara and Rafe. “And no, it’s not Stan we want to talk to about the blog. It’s you.”

“Okay…?” What seemed like genuine confusion crossed Amanda’s face.

“We want you to stop writing about us,” Sara jumped in impatiently.

“But you’re making no sense. If you don’t want me to mention Rafe and Sara in the article that includes Angel’s B and B, you have nothing to worry about. But Coop, you know I have nothing to do with the Bachelor Blog.” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

Nervous because she was lying? Or nervous because she was genuinely confused? Sara wondered.

“Actually, I know no such thing,” Coop said. “What I know for a fact is that the blogger is anonymous to everyone but Stan. My gut tells me it’s you.”

Amanda’s eyes opened wide. “That’s ridiculous. I’m the
features
editor!” She curled a long strand of hair around and around one finger.

Coop shook his head. “You could be the blogger, too. The blogger who heard from Angel directly about where Sara was staying and the features editor who is also doing an article about great summer escapes and happened to choose Angel’s.”

“That’s a reach,” Amanda said, her leg swinging back and forth in front of her.

Sara sighed. They needed to appeal to her more directly. Maybe if Sara personalized the situation, Amanda would confess her role and end Sara’s and Rafe’s stint in the blog.

Sara leaned forward in her seat. “Look, my boss already asked you to stop discussing our whereabouts in the blog because you’re jeopardizing my safety, and you said no. But Coop thought now that you’ve met me, you’d reconsider.”

A look of disbelief crossed her face. “Nobody asked me to stop. Nobody mentioned anything about anyone’s safety. I don’t understand,” she said, her voice shaking.

Sara met Coop’s gaze. That was as much of a confession as they were likely to get.

He rose and walked over to where Amanda was seated. “Stan didn’t tell you Captain Hodges called?”

She shook her head.

Rafe let out a low growl.

“Son of a bitch.” Coop was more expressive. “That bastard was willing to risk Sara’s life as long as his paper is making money.”

Amanda, gaze narrowed, looked from Sara to Rafe then back to Coop. “What do you mean? What exactly is going on?”

“Have you been following the news about the Morley case?” Sara asked.

“Other than the fact that he allegedly killed his wife? Not really.” Amanda blushed at her ignorance. “I don’t really follow hard news.”

“She’s more of a fashion girl,” Coop said fondly.

Obviously, now that he knew Amanda hadn’t deliberately refused to help, Coop had forgiven her. Sara understood why. All Sara cared about was making Amanda understand the situation.

She explained the Morley case and how Amanda’s blog had been inadvertently alerting Morley’s people to Sara’s whereabouts. “My apartment’s been tossed, and I’ve had direct warnings not to come back and testify since I’ve been in town.”

Amanda spread her hands wide. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ll stop posting about you immediately.”

Rafe rose from his seat. “That’s a start, but I was
hoping you’d be willing to do more.” He took charge, and Sara couldn’t tear her gaze away.

“Such as?” Amanda asked.

“Yes. Such as?” She had no idea what Rafe had in mind, but she couldn’t wait to hear.

“Sara’s due to return to New York soon to testify. When she does, I want you to print your final blog about us. Tell the world we’re not only engaged, but we went to Bermuda to get married. Throw them off her trail so she can return to New York safely.”

“Brilliant,” Sara said in awe of Rafe’s idea.

Coop nodded. “I’m impressed.”

All three looked to Amanda for an answer.

The woman stood and paced the floor of the small living room. “I’m horrified Stan didn’t tell me the police called and asked me to back off.”

“Join the club,” Coop muttered.

Sara knew her friend and also knew he’d cemented his decision to leave the paper sooner rather than later.

Amanda turned to face them. “Of course I’ll do it. I owe you that much, if not more. You tell me when, and I’ll be ready to run with it,” she promised.

“And in the meantime?” Sara asked.

“I’ll finish up the bachelor who’s also featured now,
run with your story when you’re ready…and call it a day. I can’t work for someone with no morals.”

Sara was satisfied. They had a deal. They had a plan. When the time came, she could go home.

O
N THE WAY BACK FROM
A
NGEL’S,
Rafe stopped at Pirro and Aunt Vivian’s house so he could check on the older man. Sara admired his dedication to his family. She’d even venture a guess that he felt less confined and constricted by them than he had in the past. He liked to complain about their intrusiveness, but in his heart he adored each and every one of them. Today, realizing the events of last night had been overwhelming, Rafe had wanted to see for himself that Pirro was doing okay and that he’d mended things with his wife.

Their cars were in the driveway. When nobody answered the doorbell, Rafe grabbed Sara’s hand, sending a jolt of awareness spiraling through her. Enjoying the feeling of being a couple, she let him lead her around back where they found Vi and Pirro holding court on the patio. Rafe’s parents were there, along with friends and neighbors.

“Is it a holiday from work that nobody told me about?” Rafe asked, glancing around at the crowd.

“I gave everyone the day off in honor of Pirro’s
heroism,” Rafe’s father said, holding up a bottle of beer.

Rafe shook his head and laughed. “Then hand one over so we can toast to Pirro, the hero.”

Sara grinned. She and Rafe had agreed not to spoil Pirro’s version of events. Apparently, they’d been celebrating, too. Sara was happy to join them. Especially with going home to New York looming large in her thoughts now, it was especially sweet to spend time with Rafe’s large family. Too soon, she’d be home alone.

The way she liked it.

Didn’t she?

“Rafe, a word?” Pirro walked over and pulled Rafe aside.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

Sara nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, no. You come, too. You’re part of this,” Pirro said. He adjusted his baseball cap by the brim and led them to the far corner of the yard.

“I’m glad you came by. I have something for you.”

“We came to check on you,” Rafe said. “I’m glad to see you’re surrounded by family and doing well. Last night was rough.”

“About last night.” Pirro pulled his cap off and looked Rafe in the eye. “I know I’m embellishing the story a little.”

Sara grinned. “Not by much.”

Rafe shot her a grateful look.

“What else can I do? Tell my wife I was so scared I brought up her dinner all over that animal’s shoes?” Pirro asked, his face flushed red with embarrassment.

Rafe shook his head. “It’s our secret, I promise. Want to know another secret?”

Pirro raised an eyebrow.

“The first time I shot someone, I wet my pants.”

“Really?” Pirro asked.

Rafe inclined his head. “Let’s go back and celebrate, okay?”

Pirro nodded. “Okay. But first, here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of blue pills. “Here. My final illegal stash. I made an appointment with my doctor for Monday. I’ll get them from him.”

Rafe put his hand on Pirro’s shoulder. “That’s a wise decision.”

“Wiser than the ones I’ve made so far. And I wanted you to know I realize that now. I’m grateful to both of you for getting me out of the mess I made, and I wanted to give you the last of them.” Pirro closed Rafe’s hand around the pills.

“You’re a brave man, Pirro DeVittorio,” Sara said. “I’m honored to know you.”

And she meant it.

“I feel the same way about you, Sara Rios.”

Rafe placed one hand on each of their shoulders and led them back to the party, where Pirro rejoined his wife.

Rafe turned to Sara. “Do you have a place to hold these until I can safely get rid of them?”

She held out her hand, and he poured them into her palm. She slid them into the pocket of her shorts.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, they mingled with Pirro and Vivian’s guests and ended up staying for a barbecue. Sara spent a good amount of time with Mariana, listening to Rafe’s mother tell her stories about when he was a young.

To everyone’s surprise, Nick arrived with Angel, and they both appeared to be in a good mood. Despite her usual pessimism about relationships, Sara still held out hope for the couple.

The beer and wine flowed, and by the time the night drew to a close, Sara was lightly buzzed and definitely enjoying herself.

“Ready to go?” Rafe pulled her against him and whispered in her ear.

All thoughts of the party and guests fled in favor of enjoying Rafe and whatever time they had left.

She leaned into him and nuzzled her lips against his neck. “Lead the way.”

They said their goodbyes, which as usual when
among his family took longer than either of them would have liked.

Until finally, he threaded his fingers through hers and tugged on her arm. “Let’s go home.”

Ripples of yearning rushed through her, not just for Rafe, but for the word he’d uttered and the elusive feeling of belonging that was always just out of reach.

R
AFE SPENT THE
next few days as if they were his last. He spent the hours eating, sleeping, sailing, making love with Sara—and waiting for the call that would send her home. But as the days passed without a word from New York, he stopped thinking about it and began to live in the fantasy that this could last.

Early afternoon, he returned from doing a few errands to find Sara sitting on the couch, his favorite blanket pulled over her legs, and a tub of ice cream in her lap as she ate from the carton.
Jeopardy
was on the television and Sara called out questions between spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie–flavored ice cream.

Locking the door behind him, he tossed his keys on the counter and strode into the room. “Is there enough to share, or should I grab my own?” he asked.

Her gaze darted between him and her favorite snack. “You can share,” she said begrudgingly.

He ignored her obvious reluctance to share. Instead,
he grinned and, in a split second, crossed the room and jumped into the spot next to her on the couch.

“Well?” he held out a hand for the utensil.

An adorable pout settled on her lips as she spooned out a small bit of ice cream, but she didn’t hand it to him. She held out the spoon for him to eat from it.

He opened his mouth and let her feed him.

She then went back to her own mouthfuls.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

She tipped her head to one side. “Do you really want to come between me and my Chocolate Fudge Brownie?”

“Do you really want to make me beg?”

“Begging’s good.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Taking what I want is much better.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He plucked the carton from her hands and placed it on the table, then came over to her, swiping his tongue over her lips and finally sealing his mouth on hers. He teased the seam of her closed lips until she opened and he thrust his tongue inside, taking all the Chocolate Fudge Brownie he desired.

His yearning grew, desire building as the passionate lip-lock went on and on, all the seductive powers he possessed going into this one kiss. She writhed beneath him and let out a low moan of appreciation. Then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she fully
participated in sharing her beloved ice cream with sexy nibbles of her teeth and hot laps of her tongue.

She didn’t seem in any rush to take things further, and he was enjoying the playful moment too much to rush them. He deepened the kiss, and his body pressed against hers, his hips settling between her thighs, increasing the sensation of his hard erection throbbing in his jeans and pulsing against her soft, feminine body.

He wound his tongue around hers, thrusting in and out, mimicking the most intimate sexual act until their bodies began to rock in unison to the same tempo. His hips wound in circles, thrusting against her, harder and harder, until she began to pant and moan beneath him. Rafe didn’t know how he’d hold back, but he’d damn well try, and he pumped his hips into hers, attempting to give her the pleasure she sought, the orgasm that was so obviously within reach.

Harder, faster, harder, faster. He grit his teeth and somehow held on as she trembled and finally screamed her climax, her entire body quaking with the force of it.

She reached up and began yanking on his jeans. He took the hint. He undid his button and stripped naked while she did the same. And then he was over her again, his hands thrusting through her hair at the same time he plunged hard and deep, his engorged member sliding into her hot, moist sheath.

She arched her back, bent her knees and not only accepted all of him but pulled him impossibly deeper. He thought he’d explode right then.

Her fingers gripped the back of his hair, and he pulled out, only to thrust in harder.

“Rafe!”

She called out his name, a mix of pleasure and pain, and he understood. He couldn’t take it, either, but he definitely couldn’t stop. In. Out. In. Out. All the while, her ragged breathing sounded harsh and wonderful in his ear.

In. Out. In. Out. She gasped, her breaths more rapid now.

He couldn’t hold on another second, but he had to take her with him.

In. Out. In. Out.

“Come with me,” he said, his words gruff, barely out of his mouth before the most intense orgasm shook him, body and soul. Quaking tremors rippled through him, over and over, along with
“I love you,”
words he’d never meant to utter but couldn’t control.

S
ARA LAY AWAKE
in Rafe’s arms, cuddled together on the couch. He’d passed out on the couch, falling into a deep sleep. He didn’t move a muscle when the phone rang, nor did he roll over as Sara wiggled free. She missed the call and let it go to voice mail, but
the message left by the captain couldn’t have been clearer.

Drive home tomorrow. Court the day after.

Not a minute too soon,
Sara thought.

In fact, the order had come way too late. Too late to protect them from the inevitable heartbreak she’d known would come. There was a way to make it easier, though.

Sara saved the message for Rafe to hear. Then she took a quick shower, tossed her things into her suitcase and was ready to leave within the hour.

She knew from Coop that Amanda’s fake story about Rafe and Sara’s honeymoon departure was ready to run on the Bachelor Blog with the hit of the send button. As soon as she was in the car, Sara would call Coop and have him tell Amanda that it was time. The Internet would spread the story in seconds. The
Daily Post
would follow up with it on the evening edition. Morley and his men would think Sara had fled the country rather than testify, and nobody would be expecting her back in New York.

Ready to leave, she paused only to stop by the couch where Rafe slept. She took the knitted blanket on the arm of the sofa and covered him. Then she knelt by his side. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, giving him a boyish look she rarely associated with him, making him seem more vulnerable than she knew him to be. Hurting him was the last
thing she’d ever want to do, and she believed that her leaving without forcing them to rehash their opposing views was kinder to them both.

But kinder did nothing to diminish the pain slicing through her heart, because
she loved him, too.

She didn’t miss the irony, either. She, the big bad cop who wasn’t afraid of anything—except for believing in love and happily ever after.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and rose to her feet. Nausea filling her, she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

She didn’t leave him a note. She wouldn’t know what to say, and the answering machine message would provide enough of an explanation.

N
ICK HAD JUST LEFT
their second try at marriage counseling. Another session of him doing the talking and Angel maintaining her silence.

Nick had had it.

He’d done what was expected of him by his brother and the rest of the family. He’d put himself out there and opened himself up to his wife. He’d reached out and tried to understand—and even accept Angel’s need to run her own business. All before she’d ever given an inch in meeting him halfway.

He was finished trying. If she wanted to fix their marriage, she’d have to come to him.

R
AFE JUMPED UP
and realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Loud banging on his door told him what had woken him, and when he stood, he discovered he was still naked.

Where was Sara?

He pulled on his jeans while the knocking on the door continued. “I’m coming!”

He headed for the door and let his visitor inside. “Nick! What are you doing here?”

“I have to talk to you.” He glanced beyond Rafe and looked around the room. “Where’s Sara?”

Rafe rubbed his eyes, still groggy and half-asleep. “She’s probably in the shower.”

Nick shook his head. “Her car’s gone.”

That woke him up. “What?” He started for the door, but Nick’s voice stopped him.

“Her car’s gone.”

Rafe’s gut churned. “Maybe she went to the store.”

His churning gut denied that possibility.

They’d made love, and she’d taken off?

What the hell… He looked around the family room for a note and didn’t find one.

He headed for the bedroom next. Sure enough, all signs of Sara were gone. From the open suitcase on the floor, to the toothbrush in the bathroom and piles of clothes on the floor in between.

Gone.

Rafe walked back into the other room.

“There’s a message on your answering machine,” Nick said, pointing to the kitchen counter.

Feeling like a ball of lead had settled in his stomach, Rafe strode to the machine and hit Play. The captain’s voice flooded the room. “Court date scheduled for nine o’clock in the morning day after tomorrow. Hit the road in the morning. See you soon.”

“Well, that explains the why,” Nick said too cheerfully.

Rafe shot him a dirty look. “We’d agreed that when it was time to go back, we’d go together. She had all day tomorrow to get on the road.”

They’d made love, and she’d taken off.

That
explained the why. He’d told her he loved her and then, stupidly, contentedly, fallen asleep.