“Yes, you are right, of course. I’m just so afraid of what is going to happen. I’ve never been patient when watching a movie or reading a book, especially if I can’t guarantee there’s a happy ending. This was your father’s family, right?”
“Yes. My mother is from Italy,” he reminded her.
“Yes, of course. I forgot that, probably because your father, though an American, also has an Italian name. I just — what if she was pregnant and he never made it back to her? What if he never saw his child?”
“All romances have their share of ups and downs, Ari. If the battle was too easy, then how could we appreciate what we have?” he asked. He wanted so badly to hold her, to rekindle their romance.
For several heart-stopping moments, Ari looked at him, then she glanced back down at the journal, and soon she was lost again in the story of William and Saphronia. Her hand was still gripping his arm as if it were so insignificant, she didn’t even notice. He sure as hell noticed.
Rafe didn’t move until her hand drifted away as she turned another page; yes, her attention was once again diverted and he was bested again by the journal. He’d wanted to get her to his home, but he had hoped to have seduced her by now.
That most likely wasn’t going to happen this time around. Looking at the clock, he noted that it was nearing midnight. There was no way she could drive home, not with the amount of wine she’d drunk. He could have Mario drive her, deliver her car for her, but he didn’t want her to leave. Having her in his home again, though torturous in some ways, also grounded him.
To his complete and utter astonishment, he discovered that even though his body was on fire, he didn’t care. He was satisfied with sitting in the same room with her. Yes, he wanted her like nothing he’d ever wanted before, but just being with her eased the ache that had been with him for the past two years.
She completed him in a way that was beyond his capability of imagining. Leaning back, he lost all interest in work as he watched her move through the pages. The expressions on her face were a sight to behold, and he could almost read the story through her eyes alone.
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.