The Trouble With Coco Monroe (27 page)

Take me
, she urged him with her body.

A part of her mind recognised she’d surrendered herself totally and completely to this man.

And she loved it.

Her hand searched for him.

And she shook with pure pleasure when she touched his rock hard shaft with shy fingers.

It was thick and long and big.

Too big?

His hand grasped hers as he muttered into her throat.

‘Not yet, darling, or it will all be over before it starts.’

‘You’re huge,’ the thought was out of her mouth before she realised it, her voice wobbling with nerves.

Rafe leaned back to study her face, his hand constantly stroking her thigh to soothe her.

His eyes narrowed.

‘The way your trembling you would think you’ve never done this before.’

The flash of panic in her eyes made him pull back to look at her carefully.

Testing, he ran a finger over her hot, wet centre.

And she nearly levitated off the bed.

Yes, she was ready for him, but the nerves in her eyes and that frantic pulse in her neck made him keep his eyes on hers as he slid one finger near her entrance. Her internal muscles clutched one and then two careful fingers as she moaned and shuddered.

Taking great care, he probed deeper, pushing further and the barrier of her hymen was clear.

Christ, she was a virgin?

But she’d had plenty of boyfriends.

The press was full of her exploits.

Confused, he sat and pulled her into his arms.

His stinging cock pulsed agonisingly against her hip as she groaned into his throat.

‘You’re killing me,’ she moaned.

And he knew exactly how she felt.

‘You’re untouched, Coco.’ His hand was trembling with his need for her as he lifted her chin to look into vivid eyes wild and dazed with arousal. Then he gave her a shake. ‘You lied to me.’

With a long moan, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down.

‘Saving face, for God’s sake Rafe, kiss me.’

For one heartbeat, two, he almost gave into temptation.

While his body screamed for release, Coco whimpered into his throat.

And he wanted to throw her on her back, to spread those endless legs wide and simply ram himself into her.

But if he did that he’d hurt her because he was too far-gone to take care with her.

The reality of his situation was like a sucker punch to the throat.

Every single thing he’d thought was a certainty about this woman - that she was promiscuous, a party animal - was now blown out of the water.

He had no idea who she was.

God damn her to hell.

He needed time to think!

Swearing like a trooper he thrust her from him, rose to his feet and strode to his closet, tugged on jeans and yanked a T-shirt over his head.

‘Rafe?’

The devastation, the bewilderment in her voice spiked his temper along with his arousal.

Jesus, his cock was fucking killing him.

Absolutely furious, he turned to her.

‘What the fuck are you thinking?’ He took a step towards her. ‘I could have hurt you. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ She covered herself with the cotton sheet and opened her mouth. He held up a hand. ‘No, say nothing. I can’t trust myself around you.’

Christ, he’d almost plunged into her.

He was a big man, slightly longer than average, but his penis was wide and thick.

Certainly he’d had no complaints from women he’d bedded, but he might have scared her, damaged her.

The thought of physically hurting Coco made him feel ill.

Again, fury spiked.

He opened the door.

‘Where are you going?’ The way her voice wobbled, filled with pain and confusion, had him pause.

Fingers on the door handle Rafe closed his eyes, took a breath and turned to look at her.

Those fabulous violet eyes were too big and swimming with hurt.

She looked as if he’d taken a big stick and beaten her.

‘A walk. I need to think.’

Chapter Thirty One

Sheer frustration made Rafe walk fast.

Sheer instinct took him to the swimming pool.

With a heavy sigh he sat on a lounger and took a deep breath.

Dear God, for the second time in less than an hour she’d terrified him.

The ground under his feet had shifted, he could admit it now.

He had no idea what to do about the feelings churning in his belly.

His skin felt too tight and too constricted.

What the
fuck
had all those stories been about her and her
men
in the press?

One in particular brought bile to his throat. A kiss and tell by a male model. The man had made a fortune with lurid details of his affair with Coco.

Charles Monroe had threatened to sue, but his daughter had just shrugged it off saying it wasn’t important, that it was a four-minute wonder.

With something like a vice tightening his chest Rafe realised she’d deliberately cultivated the specific public persona of the spoilt heiress, of a petulant, pouting diva. And she’d conned each and every one of them, including him, he now realised with dismay.

But why?

For
First Step?

He simply couldn’t get his head around it.

How long he sat there with his brain fighting to work out the facts, he’d no idea.

His desperate need for her still ached like a bitch between his legs.

She was fucking destroying him.

Gazing into a clear night sky, into the millions of stars in the universe, at last Rafe’s mind used logic rather than emotion.

A bitter memory surfaced of her standing before her father when Charles had told his daughter her trust fund would not be available until she was thirty. He’d caught the shock in her violet eyes. The disappointment and dismay along with what he realised now was a devastating hurt.

Coco hadn’t argued, hadn’t said a word.

She’d just turned around and left.

No temper, no tantrums.

They’d underestimated her in every conceivable way.

The truth slammed him with the force of a fist to the throat.

And he realised that by totally surrendering herself to him tonight she’d told him without words that she loved him.

God, she loved him.

And by walking out on her tonight he’d broken her heart, again.

It appeared to be a recurring pattern of behaviour with him.

He stood, stretched out aching limbs, and swore he would never hurt her again.

Entering the house he headed for the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

He’d make Coco her all time favourite treat, hot chocolate with marshmallows.

They needed to talk and he needed a stiff drink.

A glance at the wall clock told him he’d left her for almost two hours.

An ear-piercing scream made him jolt.

Grabbing a knife from the block, Rafe bolted from the kitchen.

Heart pounding, he took the stairs two at a time and charged into his bedroom to find Coco’s arms thrashing, her legs tangled in the sheets.

Between one heartbeat and another he realised she was in the grip of a brutal nightmare.

Sweat dampened her hair, beaded on her forehead, her top lip.

She gave a sobbing breath and a heartfelt mutter of, ‘Blood everywhere.’

Desperate fingers clawed at her thin vest and at the underside of her breast where the livid scar ran in a sinister line towards her armpit.

‘Can’t breathe,’ she sobbed.

Her gasp, the terrified moan of agony, had him drop the knife and scoop her up in his arms.

Seriously unnerved by her condition, his shaky fingers brushed through her hair.

Holding her head to his chest, he spoke in her ear. ‘It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Your dreaming.’

With a jerk Coco awoke struggling desperately.

Long legs thrashed and a flying fist caught him on the chin.

Christ, he didn’t want to hurt her but he plunged them both to the bed and lay on top of her.

Holding her hands out to the side, he gripped her wrists and pinned her under him.

‘Stop. It’s me, Coco.’

Her speeding heart thundered against his chest as she stared unseeing up into his face.

Understanding entered those huge, terrified eyes and she took a long, shuddering breath.

Releasing her, Rafe lay on his side and curled his body around hers, pressing his lips to her damp hair.

‘You’ve had a God awful nightmare.’

Her body gave a single shudder in his arms.

‘I didn’t feel the knife go in. I can’t see him. I never saw him.’

‘He’s gone, baby. He’ll never hurt anyone again.’

But by her big dazed eyes it was obvious she couldn’t hear him.

‘I didn’t wait for Samson. It was all my own fault. I didn’t listen. Why don’t I ever listen?’

Hoarse with emotion, her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat.

Frowning into her hair, Rafe inhaled the scent of her and nuzzled the top of her head.

‘You’ve lost me. How was it your fault that a mentally ill man attacked you?’

She took a shaky breath and he held her tighter.

‘Samson repeatedly told me to wait until the path was cleared. I didn’t listen. We’d received threatening letters, horrible letters, warning me...’

He placed his hands either side of her head, forcing her to meet his eyes.

‘It’s not your fault. The man was ill. No one could have foreseen what he’d do. Give yourself a break.’ Holding her close, Rafe whispered in her ear and opened his heart. ‘We spent five long days and nights in that damned hospital.’ He studied her hot face. ‘You scared me.’

Big eyes stared into his.

They were clearer now and a heady sense of relief washed through him.

‘You were at the hospital?’

The tone held complete disbelief and made him smile.

‘Damned right I was. Your father, Ethan, Louise and me. We never left you, not for a second. Not until you were out of intensive care.’

She frowned.

‘But, I never saw you.’

His fingers couldn’t help but stroke her shoulder.

Her skin still felt too hot.

‘You were out of it for days. I took the night shift. Your father and Ethan split the day shift. That’s when I decided life was too short. And that I’d see what we might have together.’

Her brow creased as her brain tried to compute, but her eyes still looked glazed, shocked.

Perhaps she was running a fever?

He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

Yep, she was burning up.

‘Baby, I need to get you something for that temperature you’re running.’

Lifting her in his arms, she wound her arms around his neck and he strode out the bedroom.

‘Rafe, all I’m wearing is a T-shirt and panties.’

‘I noticed.’ Heat flared in her cheeks and his eyebrows rose. ‘How can you be embarrassed after wearing that excuse for a bikini? Flaunting yourself to torture me?’

‘I wasn’t flaunting myself.’ He stopped dead and simply stared at her. She huffed out a breath. ‘Okay, maybe there was a tiny bit of flaunting. Where are we going?’

‘Kitchen. You need hot chocolate with marshmallows.’

He’d remembered her favourite drink?

Rafe switched on the overhead lights.

The sucker punch of a headache behind her right eye made Coco close her eyes as he sat her in a chair.

God she felt rough, all shivery and hot.

Handing her a glass of water and a couple of pills, he watched her through narrowed eyes as she swallowed them and drank the whole glass.

She went to rise and he gently pushed her back in the chair.

‘Sit,’ he ordered as he switched on the kettle.

Well this was a turn-up for the books.

Who’d have thought Rafe Cavendish was the caring type?

‘Look, Dr. Rafe....’

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

‘We’ll play Doctor and Nurse later. You need sugar.’

He leaned down and gently brushed his lips to hers.

A move that was so tender it made her eyes swim.

She cleared her throat.

‘Rafe.’

‘Coco.’

It made her smile, but her eyes stayed on his.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

‘You’re welcome, doll face.’

Turning to open a cupboard, he pulled out a bag of marshmallows.

He whisked up a hot chocolate for her and poured a cognac for himself.

The silence was a comfortable one.

It appeared they’d turned a corner.

Coco hadn’t realised how much tension she’d carried until it lifted from her shoulders.

Of course they still needed to discuss his overbearing and controlling habits.

But he distracted her by placing the bag of marshmallows on the table, taking a couple for himself as he sat across from her.

Frowning she sipped the drink and added a few marshmallows to melt into the steaming liquid.

Eyes the colour of bitter chocolate sparkled into hers as he popped the candy into his mouth.

She read humour mixed with a mild bafflement.

‘So tell me, my little virgin. How did this come to pass?’ His voice, low and husky, made her smile as the marshmallows dissolved into creamy peaks.

‘I wouldn’t describe myself as a little virgin. I’ve made love with men.’ Her eyes met his and she laughed as he fluttered his lashes. ‘Okay, not penetrative sex... but... I’ve come very close to it a few times.’

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and he seemed captivated by the move.

Her finger scooped up a creamy peak and she sucked melted marshmallow, licking her lips.

His pupils dilated and he shifted in his seat.

With a frown Rafe scooped up another marshmallow, popped it in his mouth.

He had a sweet tooth, who’d have thought it?

‘What I don’t get is why you didn’t sue the pants off of that guy...’ Snapping his fingers, he squinted. ‘What was his name? Antonio somebody. The one who sold his story of his sexual prowess and your, er, willingness to experiment in bed to the tabloids.’