Raphael’s smile returned. “Next time, I’ll take you to a more suitable location.”

“Define suitable,” I said before adding, “and, please, don’t take it as a yes.”

He gave me a small shrug. “My place, for instance.”

I rolled my eyes.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Call me old-fashioned,” I said, “but I believe people should meet socially before they… ahem… visit the Senate. It’s called dating.”

“Would it count if I took you to dinner and then to my place?”

I shook my head.

“Three dinners?”

“No.”

“Five dinners and a concert at L’Olympia?”

“Stop bargaining—it’s useless.”

“Do you realize what you’re saying no to?” He cocked his head. “I’ve never taken anyone to five dinners plus a concert before taking them to bed.”

“I’m flattered, but no, thanks.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I can see what you’re doing here. You’re playing hard to get.”

“Honestly—no.”

“Am I so distasteful to you?”

That sad doggy expression again. He didn’t believe for a second he could be distasteful to anyone.

I held his gaze.

“Come on, Rudy,” he said. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me you don’t like me and you didn’t enjoy our kiss.”

“Olly,” I said. “I like you, and I enjoyed our kiss. Very much. I’d totally date you.”

He grinned.

“Raphael,” I said. “There’s no way I’m having casual sex with you, not tonight, not ever.”

He looked a little taken aback by my determination. “I wasn’t planning on us having sex tonight, anyway.”

“No? What was your plan then?”

“Just talking. Getting to know you better.” He gave me a small shrug. “Maybe a bit of cuddling and kissing those yummy lips of yours.”

He zeroed in on my mouth.

I stared at his, remembering our first kiss. Without asking permission, my tongue darted out and licked my lips.

Traitor!

“The closest to a visit I envisioned,” he said, “was to bare your chest for a sec and see if your breasts are shaped as I imagined them. I’ve done a lot of imagining after the Christmas party.”

So had I. About the shape of his… thing.

“You’re blushing. It’s sweet.” He brushed my cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Did I scandalize you?”

No, I did that myself, thank you.

“You make me sound like an ingenue.” I sneered for more effect, even as my cheeks flamed under his touch, which now involved more than just the tips of his fingers.

“Because you’re not,” he said, stifling a smile.

“No, Raphael, I’m not.”

And someone has proof of it.

I removed his hand from my cheek. “Your ten minutes are up. I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” He blocked my way. “Now that I know you like me and that you enjoyed our first kiss, I must kiss you one more time.”

“Not happening.”

“One last time.”

We stood so close to each other we were almost touching. His masculine scent invaded me, making my toes curl in my boots. Summoning what was left of my willpower to push desire back into the shadows where it belonged, I shook my head.

“Please?” His dark eyes held a genuine plea. “One kiss, and then I’ll be out of your hair. Forever.”

Just one kiss.

One delicious, hot, Olly-tasting kiss…

As if my body was detached from my brain, I leaned forward ever so slightly. Suddenly, his hands were in my hair and he was kissing me. There was nothing tentative about this kiss. Crushing his mouth against mine, Raphael held me tight and pushed his tongue between my lips.

He devoured me, his touch raw and blistering hot.

I kissed him back, hard, desperate to savor his taste. Closing my eyes, I tangled my tongue with his in a frenzied pas de deux. Blood pounded in my brain. Raphael’s tongue stroked against my palate, my tongue, the insides of my cheeks. He pulled it out to caress my lips and teeth and then penetrated my mouth again, making me moan with pleasure.

I was on fire, ravenous.

His mouth roamed my face and my throat, his lips searing my skin. I arched my neck, desire licking through me as I became aware of his bulge pressed against my tummy.

My breaths grew shallow.

Raphael’s were just as ragged when he backed me against the strip of wall between the two glass doors. I didn’t resist when he slid a hand under my coat and cupped one of my breasts. My vision blurred as I let him fondle and stroke it through the thin layers of my shirt and bra. When he rubbed my nipple with the pad of his thumb, I whimpered.

“The other one, too,” I begged.

He obliged.

When, long moments later, he grabbed my wrists and shackled them above my head, my core tightened, heavy with need.

He pressed the full length of his body against me, and I reveled in the heat coming off him, in his hardness, his strength. I quivered and groaned into his mouth when he took my lips again in a savage kiss.

But it wasn’t until his knee nudged my legs apart and I rubbed myself against his thigh, wild with lust, that I knew I couldn’t walk away from his offerings.

This wouldn’t be our last kiss.

Womanizer Raphael d’Arcy would add another trophy to his collection, and that trophy would be me.

Game over, Mia. You lost.