It was obvious when a more lighthearted letter appeared, or when something tragic happened. Her chest would rise and her breath hitched as she carefully turned the pages of the journal to see what was happening next.
Ari was a romantic. Why hadn’t he realized this before? If he wanted to win her, he had to treat her the way a woman should be treated, spoil her with priceless gifts or, better, with gifts that cost little but meant much, bring her flowers, take her to historical places. He needed to know her beyond the bedroom.
He’d thought he had known Ari, thought he’d known what she wanted, but he hadn’t known her at all. He hadn’t taken the time to learn what would truly make her happy, hadn’t tried hard enough to win her. He would now.
He watched as her eyes closed, her fingers still holding on to the journal. Within a few moments, her breathing deepened and she was asleep, her body leaning toward the protection of his.
Rafe sighed in happiness as she floated into his arms; with his hand holding her shoulder, she murmured in her sleep, and then her head drifted to his chest. He spent the next several moments running his fingers through the silken strands of her hair as he leaned down and inhaled her floral scent.
“I can’t set you free, Ari. I just can’t,” he said in apology; he reached beneath her and gently lifted her into his arms.
Should he let her go?
Yes, most likely. He was broken in so many ways. He’d mistreated her, broken her heart, and shattered her innocence. A better man would let her live her life free of him.
He couldn’t be that better man.
Rafe slowly moved through his house and into the master bedroom, where his massive bed didn’t even dominate the room.
There was so much space in his home, and he had been living there alone for so long. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case for too much longer. With luck and extreme effort on his part, Ari would soon share every night with him, and the days, too.
Laying her down on his bed, he looked at the sight she made, her golden hair spread out on his pillow, her mouth turned up in a slight smile.
Being careful not to wake her, he undid her pants and slid them from her slender legs. Because he hadn’t had enough torture, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, just a brief touch, a chaste kiss.
“Rafe…” she sighed, but didn’t wake.
Yes, they would make it through. Even in her dreams, she called for him. He wondered what she was dreaming at that moment. Most likely she was somewhere in the South while waiting for her hero to find her. Rafe could picture himself as that man.
Wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to cover her up and then turn away.
“You’re in this for the long haul, Rafe, the long haul. If you blow this now, she will run away scared and another couple of years may pass.” As much pain as it caused him, he turned off the lights and left the room. There wouldn’t be much sleep for him that night.
Chapter Twelve
Rachel
As Rachel arrived at the hotel, she realized she didn’t have a last name for Ian or any way to let the maître d’ know the person she was looking for. Stepping from the taxi, she was less than a second away from turning back and forgetting the entire evening.
It was foolish, after all. What would her parents say? What would Rafe say! Her parents, she could handle; her big brother, not so much. He’d come unglued if he knew what she was planning to do. She and Lia would never be adults in Rafe’s eyes. They’d continue to be pigtailed little girls whom no man was allowed to touch — not as long as that man wanted to live.
Hypocrite!
“Good evening, Ms. Rachel. If you will follow me, I’ll show you where your date is waiting.”
Rachel jumped, her hand still on the door of the cab. Turning around, she spotted a very large man who looked more suited to guard the president than escort women to a one-night stand. Well, hopefully a one-week stand.
When she looked up at him, the man didn’t show a single expression on his face. Was she a fool to follow through on this? No. She didn’t think so. What could happen in a nice hotel where people could see her enter? OK, so maybe she was as naïve as Rafe thought she was.
The thought caused her shoulders to stiffen in defiance. It was her life, and if she wanted to be a fool, that was her choice. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and soon she’d be working, earning her own way in the world without the help of her parents or her big brother.
“Thank you,” she replied after the silence had stretched on for an awkward amount of time. Her nerves fluttered in her stomach as she walked by the giant man’s side through the elegant lobby of the Mandarin Oriental.
It didn’t take long to reach the bank of elevators, and soon she was riding to the top floor. She’d expected that they’d eat in the dining room, but wasn’t this better? If she wanted to act like a woman of the world, she certainly needed to arrive at his room eventually.
The thought entered her mind that she should be offended he was presuming so much, but she brushed it away. It was time she took her own pleasure into her hands, and that meant a night with the very sexy man who’d “rescued” her from the sea.
“Right this way.”
They stepped up to a door, where the man inserted a key card, then held the door open for her. Walking through the entrance, she was well pleased by the elegant foyer. She didn’t notice the door closing behind her with a soft click, locking her securely inside.
Approaching the spectacular floor-to-ceiling windows, she smiled at the splendid view of the Biscayne Bay and Miami’s impressive skyline. Not far out was the deceptively peaceful Atlantic Ocean. She knew how violent those seas could become, but at the moment, everything was quiet and…romantic, as if Ian had commanded the perfect setting.
“I’m glad you came.”
For the second time in a short span, Rachel jumped as a man’s voice startled her from her thoughts. Turning slowly, her heart picked up speed at the sight of Ian standing before her in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks.
She couldn’t decide whether the man was better looking with or without clothes on. No. His chest dripping with water in the hot sun was certainly a sight she wouldn’t mind seeing more of. However, he looked quite debonair in his evening clothes.
“Of course I came. I couldn’t resist a dinner here. I’ve heard they have a wonderful wine selection,” she said, surprised by her smooth tone of voice. Her nerves weren’t showing at all though she was shaking like a fall leaf on the inside.