The Trouble With Coco Monroe (26 page)

The little witch.

He leapt up and raced after her.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Coco threw herself face down on her bed, howling with laughter into her pillow.

The look on his face had her feet dancing frantically on the mattress.

Oh. My. God.

She’d never seen such a hard-on in her life.

The man looked as if he was about to explode.

Sympathy for him elbowed her in the conscience, but she thrust it aside.

He deserved it.

Turning on her back she tried to catch her breath.

Tears poured down her cheeks and she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle more hilarity.

Then she caught a movement out the corner of her eye.

She turned and saw him.

Arms folded, Rafe leaned against her closed bedroom door.

His mouth was a hard tight white line.

And fisted in his hand was her bottle of oil.

That jaw was clenched and those dark eyes blazed hot with fury.

Her heart stuttered, tripped and took off.

It roared in her ears as sweat beaded on her forehead.

As Coco saw it she had two choices, try to brazen it out or keep silent.

The second option won.

He pushed away from the door and stalked like a big black cat to the bottom of her bed.

A heady mix of excitement and sheer terror whirled in Coco’s mind as she leaned up on her elbows to watch him.

He spread his legs.

Without shame or embarrassment that impressive arousal tented his cotton bottoms.

She couldn’t help the whine that escaped from her throat.

In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him so angry.

Why she found it absolutely thrilling she’d no idea.

‘Lose the robe.’ His voice was too soft, too silky.

Using her heels, she propelled herself up the bed until her back hit the wooden headboard.

Keep calm she told herself.

He was a reasonable man – usually.

‘Get out of my room, Rafael,’ she said in a nice, sensible tone.

The flash in his eye alerted her.

‘Wrong answer.’

She shrieked as hard hands grabbed her ankles, yanked her down the bed.

The robe slid up around her waist exposing white lacy panties.

She tried to kick, but those powerful hands held her firm.

‘You’ve been enjoying yourself, haven’t you?’

He flipped her over onto her stomach.

Seriously alarmed now she tried to turn around, but strong hands held her firm.

Those eyes were jet black with a mix of arousal and fury as they narrowed studying her bottom.

Saliva dried in her mouth.

‘You wouldn’t dare. Let me go.’ Her voice sounded too breathless, too high and too panicky.

Humiliation and fear mixed with a deep dark curl of arousal.

His hand raised and she screwed her eyes tight, bracing herself for impact.

But nothing happened, instead his big hand caressed the top of her thigh then slid over a buttock cheek and squeezed.

She shivered as liquid heat detonated between her legs.

Then he released her.

‘You really believe I would spank you?’

He no longer looked angry she saw with relief.

Instead he appeared quizzical, thoughtful.

‘I wouldn’t put anything past you,’ she spat, seriously annoyed with herself that she was disappointed he’d backed-off.

What on earth was the matter with her?

His eyes went wide and his tongue rolled over his top teeth.

‘Okay.’

He bent down, picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and marched out.

Once she got her breath, Coco screamed loud and long.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

Her fists ineffectually battered his rock solid back as strolled down the stairs holding her knees tight to his chest.

‘Put me down you low life, sneaky, son-of-a-bitch!’

Ignoring her, Rafe strode through the house, out through the French windows through the up-lit gardens and over the deck.

A horrible thought occurred to her.

He wouldn’t dare, would he?

‘What’s the matter, Coco? You want me as your brother? Fine, here’s what your brother would do.’

He heaved her through the air, and her scream pierced the still silence of the dark evening.

She landed in the swimming pool with huge splash.

And sank to the bottom like a rock.

Grinning, Rafe waited for Coco to come up spluttering and gasping.

He gave her three seconds before he sat on a lounger.

Two could play at this game.

He counted another five then stood at the edge of the pool peering in.

The underwater lighting showed him she was face down on the bottom, legs spread, and arms spread.

And she wasn’t moving.

Each second that ticked by seemed like an hour.

With an expletive, he dived in and caught her around the waist.

She was a dead weight as he pushed her out onto the edge of the deck.

Heart pounding, anxiety clawed a greasy a path into his throat.

He turned her on her back, checking her head for lumps and bumps, running trembling hands over her body.

‘Coco! Christ!’

He patted her cheeks, put an ear to her mouth.

And spout of water hit his cheek.

Her eyes flew open.

‘Gotcha.’

Chapter Thirty

Coco’s laugh hitched in her throat at the frozen expression on his face.

She caught the mix of sheer panic and something else before his lids fell.

He got to his feet as if he was an old man and she realised he was trembling.

Sinking slowly to sit on a sun lounger, Rafe held his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths.

She’d scared him.

Guilt gave her a hard slap.

The wet robe clung to her, dripping pools of water around her feet as she padded over and stood before him.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack. Ethan and I played chicken in the pool when I was little. It was childish and stupid and thoughtless.’

He didn’t move, didn’t speak.

His dripping hair appeared inky blue in the poolside lights.

Rivulets of water ran down his shoulders and back.

‘Who won?’ His voice sounded hoarse and he cleared his throat.

‘Me.’

His head came up.

Dark eyes scanned her face. ‘Every time?’

She shrugged and frowned.

Why was he looking at her as if he’d never seen her before?

‘Yes.’

Those eyes narrowed now. ‘You don’t like to lose, do you?’

Nope.

She gave another little jerk of her shoulder.

‘I try not to.’

He nodded.

Dark eyes never left her face. ‘How long have you known your father wasn’t shot?’

Denial had Coco open her mouth, but those eyes bored into hers and her mouth closed with an audible snap.

All deception left her.

The memory of the satellite call and what he’d done reinforced her spine.

She permitted ice to enter her voice, her eyes.

The gloves were most definitely off.

‘Since this morning.’

‘How?’

She looked down at him.

And the way his eyes never left hers made her shiver even more.

‘I have a sat ‘phone. I spoke to Louise.’

He merely nodded. ‘Where’s the phone?’

‘I left it behind some rocks in a plastic bag.’ She kept her eyes on his. ‘In case you decided to snoop.’

Something flashed in his eyes.

‘So all this today about me being your brother was payback?’

Why the hurt look, the indignation?

How dare he take the high ground?

Had he forgotten what he and her dear father had done?

‘Try and keep hold of that fear for a moment,’ she told him. ‘It’s nothing to what’s coming to you.’

He stood and he was too close she decided.

Sheer temper flared in his eyes along with something else she couldn’t identify.

She took a step back and he followed.

‘It hasn’t dawned on you I did it to protect you, has it? We got your father out of the country because it’s more than possible Kandinsky will target your family. It didn’t enter your head that I didn’t have time to argue with you. It didn’t occur to you that I care, that I worry about you?’

An unladylike snort of utter contempt escaped from Coco’s throat.

Her chin came up and she beaned with him a glare.

‘Did you feel your heart pound when I was under the water? Did you feel upset and scared when you thought I was hurt? Not nice is it? Well, increase those feelings one hundred times and that’s what you did to me, you bastard. It has nothing to do with caring about me, you hypocrite. It’s about control. Neither you or dear daddy gave me the opportunity to discuss the best course of action.’

Her eyes drifted south and she tried desperately not to notice his long, muscular thighs or the hairline now exposed by his sodden white bottoms, which clung to and revealed every impressive curve. Annoyance with herself and the way her treacherous heart kicked made her tone harsh.

‘Oh no, the pair of you concocted a plan.’ Running her hands through her dripping hair she met his eyes. ‘You took away my ability to choose.’ She poked a finger into his chest with each word. ‘I demand to be treated like an adult.’

He caught her hand, and went nose to nose.

She couldn’t help but shudder at the dark, demanding look in his eyes.

‘I’ve never met anyone so fucking stubborn, so fucking argumentative in my whole fucking life. You’re so wrong about so many things and on so many levels. But you want to be treated like an adult? Okay. Let’s start now shall we?’

Large hands gripped her robe, tore it from her body and tossed it aside before she could catch her outraged breath.

Her hands covered her breasts.

‘What are you doing?’ Her voice squeaked as he peeled off his wet pyjama bottoms. Oh, my God.

He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and marched through the gardens, into the house.

‘You’re cold and wet. I’m going to warm you up.’

Sheer heady delight warred with righteous indignation.

She folded her arms over nipples that bloomed like flowers in the moonlight and stared into his face.

‘And this is treating me like an adult?’

His eyes caught hers and he gave a slow, incredibly sexy smile that made her heart boom against her ribs.

‘Oh, yeah.’

He strode through the hall, up the stairs to his bedroom, into the bathroom.

And he stuck them both under a vast shower, slapped it on. Illicit excitement scurried up her spine as he turned her in his arms and pressed her back against the wall. The frantic pulse in her ears almost made her dizzy.

She’d been pushing him for this all day.

She had him exactly where she wanted him and couldn’t wait.

His eyes, dark and intense, searched hers.

He caught her face between his big hands to get the angle just right.

‘You drive me fucking crazy.’

Water cascaded over them as he pushed his erection into her soft belly.

A thrill, erotic, needy, raced up her spine as her breasts swelled and the liquid heat pooling between her legs beat with a relentless ache.

Why couldn’t she find her voice?

His eyes never left hers.

‘Coco?’

She realised he was waiting for her to make the first move.

Whatever happened next was her decision.

Her hands slid around his lean waist and down over tight hard buttocks.

With a low moan that fabulous mouth captured hers.

There it was again, the roar in her ears, the way her stomach fell as her mind went blank. And the wonderful jolt around her heart. Coco realised with something like shock there was nothing soft, nothing gentle about this kiss. It was hot, slick, feverishly demanding as her mouth wrestled with his for dominance.

Of their own volition, her fingers swept up his back, up his neck, gripping his wet hair. She pressed her body into the lean, hard length of his, writhing against him.

Their tongues battled like weapons of pleasure.

She wanted to drown in him, sink into him.

Coco’s breath came in desperate little pants into his mouth.

At last he was almost home.

Her mouth gave, Rafe took and he plundered.

Any finesse was forgotten as his hands roamed ruthlessly over that hot, wet, silky skin.

She shuddered and gasped into his mouth, trembling under his fingers.

God, he’d never had a woman so responsive to him like this.

He realised he couldn’t do it, couldn’t make love to her for the first time in a shower.

One hand slapped off the water as the other grabbed a bath sheet and he wrapped it around her.

Her eyes went wide and dark.

Those lips opened and a couple of breaths panted in anticipation as he gathered her in his arms and headed for his bed.

But he couldn’t stop kissing her.

Her mouth was so eager and giving, he wanted more of it.

They landed on the bed and his lips trailed a path from her mouth, down her neck to her breast and she arched like a cat under him.

God, she tasted fabulous.

Her breathless pants made his aching cock burn.

Hunger for her raged in his system as his hands roamed over that soft pliant body.

‘Please, touch me,’ she begged.

Husky with need her voice tipped him over the edge.

‘Touching won’t be enough,’ he groaned into her mouth and her hips arched towards him.

Coco seriously thought she was going to die if he didn’t stroke her secret places throbbing with a slick need for him.

‘Move closer, touch me.’

She was begging and didn’t give a damn.

His fingers trailed down between her breasts and his mouth caught hers again.

She sank, mindlessly, into a world that consisted purely of dark, sensual pleasure.

When his fingers stroked her inner thigh, she shuddered and arched her pelvis.