Harlequin Kimani Romance September 2014 Bundle: Seduced by the Heir\Secret Silver Nights\Someone Like You\Indulge Me Tonight (12 page)

His words threw her, making her wonder what had happened to the friendly, outgoing guy she'd fallen hard for her freshman year of college. “When did you become so antisocial? When we in college you used to love going out and meeting new people.”

“Things were a lot easier back in school. No one at U of W knew my family had money, so my father's wealth was never an issue. But these days I can't go anywhere without someone trying to cash in on the Morretti name.”

“I hear you. I'm so tired of being lied to and disappointed that I refuse to date.”

“Tell me about your last serious relationship.”

The statement and the intensity of Rafael's gaze caught her off guard. Paris drew a deep breath, but her pulse was drumming so loudly in her ears she couldn't think straight. It hurt to think about her ex-boyfriend and the thought of confiding in Rafael about her past made her burn with shame.

Needing a moment to collect her thoughts, she stood and wandered over to the window beside the towering bookshelf. The streets were deserted, blanketed with snow, and hundreds of stars lit up the night sky. “This is a nice neighborhood. I love how quiet and peaceful it is. Have you lived here a long time?”

“You're trying to change the subject.”

Paris struggled for a suitable response but came up empty. She heard footsteps cross the hardwood floor, saw his refection in the window and felt her body tense. Rafael stopped behind her, just inches away. Suddenly it became hard to breathe, difficult to swallow, and she couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Perspiration drenched her body, made her palms slick with sweat. The walls were closing in on her, the tension in the room so suffocating she felt as if she was trapped in an elevator with a hundred other people. Her throat closed up and her tongue lay limp in her mouth. Paris didn't want to talk to Rafael about her ex; she just couldn't do it, not today, and likely never. She made up her mind to call a cab as soon as her hands quit shaking.

“I just want to get to know you again. Is that so bad?”

Rafael touched her shoulder, and she reluctantly turned to face him. Bad idea. Seeing the compassion and concern on his handsome face made her eyes sting. A flood of tears momentarily blinded her, causing the living room to swim out of focus.

“Angel eyes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry.”

Embarrassed for letting her emotions get the best of her, she shook her head and waved her hands in front of her face. “Don't be silly. I'm not crying. It's just my allergies acting up again....”

He closed his arms around her, engulfing her cold, trembling body in a hug. Paris stood perfectly still. She tried not to notice how good it felt being in his arms. As he stroked her hair, her fears abated. Her tears dried up, her vision cleared and her hands quit shaking. The music, his soothing touch and the promises he whispered in her ears were her undoing. Desire overtook her like a crook lying in wait. Paris tried damn hard not to cross the line, promised herself she wouldn't throw herself at him again, but her body betrayed her.

Her mouth boldly claimed his lips, and her hands stroked his chest. He tasted sweet, like chocolate, and the rich, intoxicating flavor turned her on. She wanted more, needed more, and had plans to get it, too. The kiss roused her passion, filled her with an insatiable, mind-blowing hunger. His tongue made love to her mouth. Rafael was saying and doing all the things she liked, and Paris loved every sensuous minute of it.

Kissing passionately, they stroked and caressed each other like two people desperately in love. Paris lost all reason, and all sense of time and place. When her cell phone rang, she blocked out the intrusive noise. She was with Rafael, a man she'd loved and adored since she was nineteen years old, and she didn't want anything to ruin their time together.

She slid a hand under Rafael's shirt, but froze when he broke off the kiss. “What's the matter?” she asked, tenderly caressing his face. Paris loved touching him, liked stroking the hard contours of his cheekbones and jaw. Admiring his thick eyelashes and creamy brown skin, she marveled at what a handsome man he'd become over the years.

“I can't do this. It wouldn't be right.” Rafael shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. He looked troubled, as if his mind and body were at odds, and he avoided meeting her gaze. “I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone, but I can't sleep with you.”

“Come again?” she blurted out, convinced she'd misheard him.

“I promised myself I'd keep my hands off you this weekend, and I'll feel defeated if I go back on my word.”

Paris was confused by his mind-blowing confession, but she didn't let her true feelings show. “Good thing I packed my vibrator in my suitcase, or I'd be
really
disappointed right now.” She had spoken those words to lighten the mood, and earned a hearty chuckle from Rafael. He drew her back into the comfort of his arms and kissed her forehead. “I want more than one night with you, Paris. I love being with you and I want us to be exclusive.”

“Five minutes ago you said you wanted to be a lifelong bachelor.”

“If I can't have you, I don't want anyone.”

Paris shook off his words, not daring to believe that they were true. “I live in Atlanta.”

“We discussed this already, remember? That's not a deal breaker.”

“Long-distance relationships never work.”

“Are you always this optimistic?” Rafael cupped her chin and wore a stern, no-nonsense expression. “You can trust me with your heart, Paris. I won't hurt you, and you'll never have to worry about me betraying you. I'm fiercely loyal and dedicated to the people I love.”

Realization dawned, and Paris felt her eyes widen and tear up.
Holy heavens! He's serious.

“I don't know if I'm ready to be in another relationship,” she murmured.

“We'll take things slow. As slow as you want. I want something real with you, something lasting, and I don't want our relationship clouded by lust,” he told her. “I think we should hold off on making love for the time being.”

“Where was all that self-control and level-headed thinking in Venice?”

“I couldn't help myself.” Rafael brushed his nose against hers, and she laughed. “You looked so beautiful on New Year's Eve I fell hopelessly under your spell.”

“And tonight?”

“I'm going to be a perfect gentleman.”

“Don't be. I like when you're mischievous in bed.”

His eyes darkened a shade and his grip tightened around her waist. “I'm warning you,” he growled, his words a deep, sexy command. “Don't start something you can't finish.”

Wearing a coy smirk, Paris seized his hands and slid them under her blouse. Excitement danced inside her, warmed and pricked her flesh as their bodies came together. She used his fingers to massage her breasts, to cup and knead her erect nipples, and then moaned in his ear, “I want to make you come with my mouth....”

The devilish gleam that lit his eyes said it all.

“Damn it to hell!” Rafael scooped Paris up, tossed her over his shoulder and playfully smacked her on the ass. She shrieked in laughter as he did it again, then jogged up the stairs.

Chapter 13

“T
his is for the game. The next point wins the match,” Rafael announced, bouncing the tennis ball on the indoor court at the Washington Golf and Country Club. “I'm going to enjoy bragging about my come-from-behind win, especially after all the gloating you did yesterday when you beat me at Scrabble.”

Narrowing her eyes with determination, Paris gripped her tennis racket and rocked eagerly from side to side. “Bring it on, pretty boy. Let's do this!”

As the ball left Rafael's hand, Paris knew it was going to be a soft serve down the middle and raced toward the net like a bat out of hell. The ball sailed in the air, and she hit it with an explosive forehand. It whizzed past Rafael, clipped the solid white line and hit the back of the wall. “Yahoo! I won!” Raising her hands in victory, she danced around the court. “You owe me a home-cooked meal,
and
a foot massage!”

“You cheated,” Rafael said, wiping his forehead with a blue face towel.

“No, I didn't. I won fair and square, and you know it.”

Rafael stepped over the net and swept Paris up in his arms. “How do you expect me to concentrate on my game when you're running around the court in this sexy, pink dress?”

“But you bought it for me!” she argued, playfully swatting his shoulder.

“I did, didn't I?”

His teasing smile made her laugh. Since arriving in Washington two weeks earlier they'd explored Chinatown, the open-air markets and the designer stores in Union Station. In his favorite used book store, they sat in comfy arm chairs, reading eighteenth-century poetry and feeding each other chocolate. On weekends, they hiked Great Falls Park, strolled hand-in-hand through Georgetown and cooked in his gourmet kitchen. Yesterday, after shopping at Mazza Gallerie, they'd returned to his brownstone and spent the rest of the night in each other's arms. They had great talks about their hopes and dreams and Paris wasn't afraid to open up to him about her fear and insecurities.

“Are you going to model the lingerie I bought you at Discreet Boutiques?” he asked, stroking her hips. “I'm dying to see you in that French maid costume.”

“Only if you're a
very
good boy.”

“Then I'll be on my best behavior for the rest of the day.”

Rafael grabbed her butt, and Paris giggled. He was putting on a show, deliberately trying to make her laugh, and it worked. He made her forget everything—the pain of her past, her insecurities, her strained relationship with her father—and when he cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly on the lips, she felt more desirable than ever.

“We better stop before they kick us out,” he joked, clasping her hand. Rafael looked dreamy in his white polo shirt and shorts, and as they exited the tennis court Paris noticed country club members—some old enough to be his mother—checking him out. To make it clear he was taken, she snuggled against him. “Do you still want to go to the Smithsonian today?”

Rafael nodded. “Yes, and after our private tour I'm taking you to my favorite Greek restaurant for lunch. Sound good?”

I don't care where we go or what we do as long as we're together.
Paris felt safe, at home in his arms, and marvelled at how close they'd become since he'd “kidnapped her” two weeks earlier. The past fifteen years hadn't changed anything; Rafael was still the only man she wanted, the only man who knew her inside and out. He found unique, unexpected ways to make her feel special, and Paris loved him for it. More than she'd ever loved anyone.
Is this our chance to finally get it right? Can we have the relationship I've always dreamed of?

They strode through the country club, hand-in-hand, and stopped in front of the fitness center to speak to one of Rafael's golf buddies. Paris was surprised when he introduced her as his girlfriend, but smiled politely at the cardiologist and made small talk. When the conversation turned to business, Paris gazed out the window and admired the breathtaking view of the Potomac River. Once known as the “Playground of Presidents,” the Washington Golf and Country Club was one of the most exclusive clubs in the state. Built on 120 acres of lush, green grass, the property had everything a rich man could want: an 18-hole golf course, a heated swimming pool, a tap room and a five-star restaurant. The antique furnishings, ivory walls and muted color scheme evoked feelings of calm. Members spoke in refined voices, children were seen, not heard, and the faint scent of cigar smoke wafted through the air.

“Are you bringing this lovely lady with you to the Kennedy Center Spring Gala?”

“Of course,” Rafael said proudly, kissing her forehead. “We lost touch after graduation, but now that we've reunited I'm not letting her out of my sight!”

The cardiologist left, and they continued through the main floor. Paris glanced into the cocktail lounge, but was careful not to make eye contact with anyone. She wasn't ready to tell her dad she was dating and hoped they didn't run into any of her father's friends or business associates. Curious about something Rafael had said earlier, she turned to him and asked, “Why did you introduce me to Austin as your girlfriend?”

“Because you are.”

“But I've only been back in town for a couple weeks.”

Rafael stopped at the entrance of the library and pulled her inside the empty, sun-drenched room. “We need to talk privately, and I don't want anyone to interrupt us,” he said, resting his hand comfortably on her waist.

Amused, she hid a smirk. “Go on, Mr. Morretti. You have my undivided attention.”

Rafael took her hand, kissed it and placed it flat against his chest. “At this point in my life I'm looking for a woman with my heart, not my eyes, and its leading me straight to you.”

Moved by the sincerity of his words, she draped her arms around his neck and gave him a deep, sensuous kiss. Her heart overflowed with love and admiration as they feasted on each other's mouths. His touch was magic, and his caress roused her hunger.

“I can't get enough of you, Paris. I want you every second of every day, and I'm not ashamed to admit it,” he whispered, nibbling at the corner of her lips. “It's time to get you home and
out
of this dress.”

“Why wait?” Paris flashed a cheeky smile. “Let's make love in your BMW!”

“We could get arrested.”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

Rafael cocked an eyebrow. “Don't start nothing won't be nothing.”

“I'm starting it, right here, right now.” Stroking his forearms and rock-hard chest excited her, and suddenly all Paris could think about was making love to Rafael. She saw his eyes widen, sensed his growing desire and knew she had him right where she wanted him. “I have to make sure you don't forget me when I return to Atlanta—”

“You're not the kind of woman a man forgets.”

“Not even a man who has young beauties throwing themselves at him every day?”

“Paris, you are and always will be the only woman I want.”

His cell phone rang, and he wore a contrite expression. “This will only take a minute.” Rafael took his iPhone out of his back pocket, checked the number on the screen and put it to his ear. He was only on the phone for a few seconds, but when he ended the call his face was a dark, angry mask. “That was Elite Security. The alarm went off again.”

“That's the second time this week.”

Rafael shrugged a shoulder. “It's a pain in the ass, but I have to go check it out.”

“Isn't that your vice-president's job?”

“I prefer to handle these matters myself.”

“You need to learn to delegate.”

“Delegate?” he repeated, scratching his head. “What's that?”

“Rafael, I'm serious. You deserve time off just like everyone else.”

“And what do you suggest I do during this proposed time off?”

“Me!”
she quipped, planting another quick kiss on his lips.

They exited the country club and admired the sprawling manicured grounds while they waited for the valet to bring Rafael's car from the parking lot. Seconds later, they were driving through the streets of Arlington, Virginia, listening to the radio and trading jokes.

“How long will you be at the office?” Paris asked, admiring his handsome profile. He still gave her butterflies, even after all these years, and she suspected that would never change. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, you need to rest. You've had a long week, and you deserve some R & R.”

“Isn't that the truth!” Paris enjoyed being back in her hometown and loved spending time with Rafael, but working with her father day-in and day-out at their Washington headquarters was stressful. He was brisk with her, never satisfied and impossible to reason with. If not for Rafael, she'd be drowning her sorrows at the nearest bar. “Drop me off at the train station, and I'll take a cab back to the hotel.”

“And risk some slick-talking businessman sweeping you off your feet? No way.” Shaking his head as if he was trying to clear the image from his mind, he placed a hand on her leg and tenderly stroked her thigh. “I'm taking you to my place and that's final.”

“My, my, aren't
we
bossy.”

His laughter filled the car. “I admit it. I'm selfish. I want you all to myself.”

You won't get any complaints from me,
Paris thought, gazing adoringly at him.
I feel the same way, Rafael. I want to be with you and no one else.

* * *

Paris opened the stainless-steel fridge, selected a bottle of white Zinfandel from the bottom shelf and strode down the darkened hallway, humming her favorite Miguel song. She'd spent the afternoon cooking and cleaning Rafael's bachelor pad and was anxiously awaiting his arrival. Wanting everything to be perfect for their romantic dinner, she polished the silverware, sprinkled red rose petals around the master bedroom and lit heart-shaped scented candles.

Paris caught sight of her reflection in the dresser mirror and paused to examine her appearance. Her hair was a mass of loose curls, her lips were red and glossy and her cleavage was perfect. Rafael had selected the white lace negligee yesterday at Discreet Boutiques, and Paris couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her sexy ensemble.

At the thought of him, a girlish smile overwhelmed her mouth. Pulling back the curtains, she peeked out the window and glanced up and down the street. The sky was dark blue, filled with clouds and threatening evening showers.
What's taking him so long?
Paris wondered, for the umpteenth time, checking her diamond wrist watch.
He should have been home hours ago!

Paris heard her BlackBerry ring, grabbed it off the dresser and put it to her ear. “Great timing, Kennedy. I was just thinking about you.”

“You were supposed to call me back on Wednesday, but you never did. What gives?”

“Sorry, sis, but things have been crazy here for the past few days.”

“Is work keeping you busy or that sexy new man of yours?”

Paris swallowed hard and licked her dry lips. “What are you talking about?”

“Don't play coy with me. I know all about you and Rafael Morretti.”

“You do? Who told you?”

“Girl, please, pictures of you and that gorgeous heir are all over the gossip blogs.”

“There are?” Stunned, Paris dropped into the tan arm-chair. “But we've been discreet.”

“Kissing at major tourist attractions isn't exactly being discreet,” Kennedy teased with a laugh. “Did you know he tweeted a picture of you guys at the White House?”

The news boggled her mind. “I didn't even know he had a Twitter account.”

“Wait, there's more. Underneath the picture he wrote, ‘Reunited and it feels so good'!”

Kennedy sighed dreamily, as if she was watching a love story on TV, and spoke with unbridled excitement. “I showed it to my coworkers, and they all oohed and ahhed. Paris, I'm so happy for you. You finally found a great guy. You. Go. Girl!”

Kennedy cheered, and Paris burst out laughing. Caught up in the moment, she spoke openly about her relationship with Rafael and told her sister about all the wonderful things he'd done for her over the past two weeks. Feeling guilty for monopolizing the conversation, Paris asked Kennedy about the kids and their fun-filled afternoon at the Georgia aquarium. “How is Anthony doing? Does he like his new job?”

“No, he hates it, but unfortunately he hasn't been able to find anything else.”

“Talk to Dad,” Paris advised, hoping her headstrong sister would finally take her advice. “We could use someone with Anthony's skill and expertise in our IT department.”

“Speaking of Dad, have you told him you're dating someone?”

“No. The less he knows about Rafael the better. He's always believed the Morretti family was bad news, and once he gets something in his head it's hard to change his mind.”

“Dad might disown you if he finds out you're seeing Rafael behind his back.” Kennedy spoke in a soft, soothing tone, but her words were still a powerful blow. “You wouldn't be his favorite anymore. Could you handle that?”

As long as I have Rafael I have everything I need.
The thought shocked Paris, but it was true. Deep down, she'd always dreamed of reuniting with her first love, and now that Rafael was back in her life she didn't want to ever let him go. What they had was special, rare, unlike anything she'd ever experienced and it was worth fighting for. “Can we
please
talk about something else?”

“Okay. What are you and the Italian stallion doing tonight?”

Despite herself, Paris laughed. “Don't call him that. His name is Rafael, and if you must know we're having a quiet, romantic dinner at home.”

“That means you ordered Chinese takeout!”