Never had she dreamed a man’s touch could be so incredibly warm, so tender. Rafael’s kiss lingered at her throat, lips like satin and his day-beard like soft, scratchy sand. Only his hand moved inside her shirt, gently caressing her breast.
She did not realize she was holding her breath as he trailed his thumb and forefinger along her nipple, teasing it to aching arousal before gently kneading her soft flesh again in his large warm hand. Moments passed, but she had lost all track of time. She groaned again when his touch left her skin—an anguished sound at the denial.
“Soon, my pet. Patience.” Gentle amusement warmed his deep whisper, but it was enough to remind her that she was supposed to somehow resist.
Obediently buttoning her shirt again, he rested his hand on her midriff and looked down at her. Panting, she opened her eyes and stared up at him dazedly. His smile was faint, and an odd sort of world-weary wisdom shone in his eyes under his long gold-tipped lashes. In the black sky behind him, the moon sat cool and white, like a dove perched on his shoulder.
He rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow braced on the roof’s rough surface. She realized her hands were still clasped behind his neck. She realized, too, that she had no wish to let him go.
“You see?” he murmured, drawing circles on her belly with his fingertip. “Nothing to fear.”
She wasn’t sure of that, but she gave him a drowsy smile, deep under the spell that his kisses had cast on her. “You dodged my question with consummate skill.”
“I didn’t dodge it. I wanted to kiss my wife. Is that so wrong?”
“Well? What is the answer? Or don’t you want to tell me?”
He lowered his lashes and toyed with a button on her shirt. “It is a concession I am loath to make.”
“You are in love with her,” she said with a cold twist in her middle.
“Not by a long shot,” he declared. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“What principle?” she asked dubiously.
“Well, if I were to obey you in this matter, then you might take it into your head that you can bully me around like those peasant boys of yours—”
“I’m sure I have never bullied anyone!”
“On the other hand, if your reason for making this request was that you wanted me all to yourself in a…jealous sort of way, I don’t see how I could refuse.” He gave her a winning little smile, but she narrowed her eyes at him again.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are, oh, just a trifle arrogant?”
“Me?” he exclaimed, his eyes teasing her. His voice softened and he sifted his fingers gently through her hair. “I have already removed her from the palace, Daniela. I will not shame my wife.”
She looked away, disappointed that he did not offer to break off the affair entirely. “Well, thank you for that courtesy,” she said stiffly.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to yourself? You’d better speak up now or hold your peace. I mean it. You’d better claim me if you want me.” He grinned at her, baiting her.
“What good would it do me?”
“You never know.”
I might as well want the moon,
she thought, but instead of answering, she only touched her knuckles gently to the hard line of his golden, scruffy cheek. He smiled seductively and gave a slow, heavy-lidded blink, visibly enjoying her touch.
“Rafael?”
His deep murmur caressed her. “Yes, Dani?”
“Were you shocked that I tried to escape?”
“No.”
“Were you shocked that I came back?”
“No.”
“No?” she echoed, surprised by his answer because her own decision to return had taken even herself off guard. Her conscience had stopped her from going any farther. The man had spared her and her friends’ lives. She owed him better than to run away without explanation, especially when she knew that he had been betrayed before.
“You gave me your word. A moment of fear is understandable under the circumstances, but you gave me your oath and I know you’re not a coward.”
She looked away, hiding her distress. “Rafael?” she asked more quietly.
“Yes, Dani?” he answered with a small, contented sigh.
“I’m sorry I punched you,” she whispered. “And kicked you. Twice. Even if you did deserve it.”
“Sorry I shot you,” he answered, giving her a glum look.
“Well, you had due cause,” she admitted gravely. “I did rob you.”
He turned and stared at her, bafflement in his eyes.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head, then began laughing, low and husky.
“What is it? I don’t see anything funny—are you mocking me again?”
“Hush.” He leaned down and kissed her lips, still laughing softly. “I do believe I am smitten with you, Princess Daniela di Fiore.”
“Spare me your gallantries, Rafe!” she retorted with a blush, but her slight smile told him she was pleased.
Pushing up, he stood and leaned down to offer her his hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
The thought of going into the bedroom with him nearly unnerved her, but she couldn’t stay out on the roof for the rest of her life, she thought, so she joined him. They climbed back carefully to the balcony. Rafael never let go of her hand. She saw it was fortunate indeed that he had come along to rescue her, for although it had been easy enough to slide down the curving mansard roofs, going back up would have been impossible for someone of her five-and-a-half foot height. Rafael, however, at about six-foot-three, was easily able to vault the slick surface, either lifting her ahead of him then climbing up after her, or going up first and pulling her up by her hand. The climb taxed even her wiry athleticism, but he was dauntless.
When at last she gained the balcony’s railing after him, he opened his arms to her, inviting her playfully to jump into his arms. Intrigued by her husband’s enigmatic smile in the dark, she let go of the railing and reached out to him, her heart skipping a beat with the mad risk of total trust, but he caught her in his embrace.
He didn’t put her down. Instead, he turned around, pressed her back gently against the wall, and lowered his lips to hers, parting them. His slow, savoring kiss spoke louder than any words that it was going to be a memorable night, but fear whispered through her. Danger was mounting by the moment.
His two-handed grip on her backside tightened and he gave a low, throaty laugh that drove her wild. Immediately she clamped down mentally against the surge of desire. They were too near the bedroom—too near the bed—but his wet, hot kisses were like candy, and she was eagerly devouring them. She couldn’t seem to help it, no more than she could stop herself from caressing his chest, freeing his hair from the queue, running its silken lengths through her fingers.
She wanted him so much, wanted to touch him everywhere, as he had done to her that night on the yacht.
He secured her against the wall, lifting her thighs to his hips, one then the other, coaxing her to wrap her legs around him. Despairing of safety, Dani obeyed, and when he seemed satisfied that he had her body securely twined around him, only then did he come up for air from the drowning kisses he was giving her.
Breathing heavily, he gazed at her. “Hello,” he whispered.
“Hello,” she panted, blushing.
“I have an idea,” he murmured. “Let’s go see what’s in here.” Holding her with his large hands cupping her backside, he moved away from the wall and walked slowly into the bedchamber.
Her mouth went dry. “Rafael…”
“Yes, darling?” he murmured softly, nuzzling her cheek.
Her heart was pounding furiously. “I don’t—I’m not ready.”
“Hush,” he breathed, rocking her slightly in his arms as though she were a little child who merely needed quieting. “You will be.”
“Rafael.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Dani, my angel. My little firebrand with the hair of flame. Don’t be frightened. I’m going to take very, very good care of you. Remember what I gave you the other night?”
“I remember.”
“There’s much more than that in store for you now.”
“There is?” she whispered, her voice going hoarse with longing.
He crossed the room and gained the bed on his knees, where he laid her down under him and began kissing her slowly, deeply.
He lifted her legs and wrapped them securely around his compact hips again. She shuddered at the hard warmth of him between her thighs.
“Don’t you like it?” he whispered against her skin. “The feel of our bodies together. Do you feel how perfectly we fit together, Dani? It isn’t always like this, you know. There are poor matches, and there are good ones.”
“Rafael.” She could barely utter his name, staring up at him in pleading.
Oh, she was failing fast.
He smiled softly. “Dani.” Watching her face intently, he began unbuttoning her black shirt with one hand. “We’re one of the good matches. Can’t you feel it?”
She wondered how many times he had said this to other women. The worst part of it was she wanted to believe that he meant it only for her.
She swallowed hard and strove for a reasonable tone. “Now, Rafael—”
“Dani,” he echoed more hoarsely. He slid her shirt down over her shoulder and began kissing there while his deft fingers unbuttoned it the rest of the way down her chest and belly. “How lovely you are. How innocent. Don’t be afraid.”
“I think you should stop now.”
“Now?” He lowered his head and kissed her throat, moving south in a leisurely fashion. “No, not now, my precious. Now I shall give you pleasure such as you have never known.”
“But I don’t—want—any,” she attempted, shoving at his shoulders.
He merely laughed against her midriff, then nipped her lightly beside her navel.
“You bit me!”
“Did I? Well…” His voice was lazy and slow as syrup. “I could eat you up like a sweet peach, darling. Maybe I will.”
“I really think that’s quite enough—”
“I may never get enough of you, actually.” His warm, wet mouth moved with leisurely slowness over her skin, rounding up over the curve of her breast, then he captured her nipple, kissing, sucking with a depth of soul that robbed her of her wits. “Mmm,” he purred as he suckled her.
She writhed, her heartbeat racing. “Please!”
“Please, what, Dani? What would you like me to do? This, perhaps?” He slid his hand between her thighs, rubbing softly.
“Stop it!” she groaned, squirming frantically as she tried to escape his gentle, fiery touch. “You know that’s not what I meant! Get off of me! Please!”
“Hush,” he whispered, “let me pet you. I only want to make you feel good. Dani, I’m going to make you feel so good.”
“I feel fine. You must stop—”
He reached for the fastenings of her black breeches, gave her a coy little smile, and yanked the knot in the draw-cord free. Suddenly her breeches hung loose about her waist.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, pulling slowly, exposing her skin inch by inch as he slid the breeches down her hips. He lowered his head, nuzzling her chest and throat. “Ah, Dani,” he breathed, “I want you so badly.”
Moving lower, he kissed her quivering belly, then paused. Straddling her thighs, he rose up onto his knees over her and began unbuttoning his shirt down his chest, button by button.
There was a fleeting opportunity to try to escape. As Rafael undid his cuffs, Dani curled upward, starting to flee, then he let his fine white shirt slide slowly off his shoulders. It whispered back off his skin, falling upon the coverlet, and Dani promptly forgot to move, riveted, staring at his naked chest.
He was beautiful. Utterly, extravagantly beautiful.
She drew in her breath at the noble and majestic sight of him, the silky skin of his broad shoulders and powerful arms glistening in the moonlight like warm, sculpted marble. Her gaze traveled in awe over his splendid, sun-kissed chest and exquisitely carved belly.
Mute with awe before him, her heart sank. How on earth was she going to resist? She hadn’t a chance, not a prayer.
She was only human. Besides, she could never escape such massive strength. If he wanted her, he would have her, and that was the end of it.
But Rafael di Fiore would never take a woman against her will. She knew this from the marrow of her bones.
She lifted her gaze slowly, sorrowfully, dazedly, from his flawless, classical torso to his austere, angular face and found him watching her.
They stared at each other.
I can’t ruin your life,
she thought.
You are too wonderful to throw it all away on me.
She felt a spontaneous impulse to tell him how comely he was, how perfect and full of masculine grace, but she bit her tongue. He knew, she thought, growing increasingly lost by the second. Oh, he knew.
Staring down at her, he reached out and took her hands. Lifting them one by one to his lips, he pressed a sweet kiss into each of her palms. Then he laid her hands on his chiseled belly, inviting her without a word to touch him.
With a small, hopeless groan of want, she gave in to the seduction of his stark male beauty, exploring him, marveling at the velvet heat of his skin. She ran her hands slowly up his midriff to his chest, learning him, stroking him. He quivered like a stallion under her hands.
His sculpted chest heaved, lust glittered in his eyes, and his dark gold hair spilled like luxurious sin to his shoulders. He looked wild and elemental and very, very male.
Entranced, she molded her fingers over the muscular curves of his shoulders, then raked her nails slowly down his brawny arms.
He closed his eyes, lowering his head while she went on touching him. The ends of his hair dusted the clean, sweeping architecture of his collarbones. She bent upward and smoothed his long hair behind his shoulders, then became caught up in playing with his hair, running her fingers through it as she lifted her face and kissed the crook of his neck. He tasted faintly salty, smelled of brandy and expensive cologne.
She lingered like that, eyes closed, her hands tangled all in the glorious golden chaos of his hair. She promised herself she would stop in one more second, one more second…
She was not quite able to believe it was happening. Prince Rafael—in her arms, in her bed—her husband, if only for a while. In a haze of sensuality, she brushed her lips over the place on his neck where she could feel his pulse slamming inside his artery.