Chapter 39

Forty-five minutes later, Rafe parked behind Juliet’s store. Neither one had spoken since her insight, but she’d sat next to him, her thigh against his. It wasn’t the same as being in bed but better than nothing.

After she ditched her jacket and traded her boots for her sandals, she left to open the shop’s back door. He sat with her words working their way through his heart and head. Could she be right? Had he been the hunted instead of the hunter? Had the past eight years, even his mother’s death, been part of some larger game? The only problem was he’d no headspace with which to deal with that right now. He needed to stay focused. He had to win.

He tossed his jacket into the back seat and met her at the door. He went in first, ready to pull his weapon, while she turned on the workroom lights.

He led the way into the main store. “It’s almost seven. Where’s Samantha?”

“It was a short consultation. Maybe she’s with Pete.”

Rafe scanned the area while she flipped on the overheads. He checked behind the counter and saw architectural plans next to the cash register.

She sorted them. “These are the drawings Mr. Delacroix dropped off.”

He shoved the weapon in his waistband and knelt before the angel. Gabriel stood on a two-foot-tall block and was similar in stature to Raphael. Gabriel held a lily in one hand, and a trumpet lay at his feet.

“Do you need my help?”

“No.” Using his weight as leverage, he shimmied the statue out of the corner. “Flashlight?”

She handed one over.

He knelt and traced the carvings until he felt the indentation and the metal pin. He pressed it, and a door opened. He reached in to find…nothing. “It’s not here.”

How could it not be there? He’d been so sure. Unless…

“What?” She tried to squeeze next to him, but he stood and tucked her into his arms. St. John’s church bells rang seven times.

Her phone buzzed. He reached into her pocket and handed it to her.

“Samantha’s with Pete,” Juliet said, reading the text. “After his class, they’re celebrating his new job and will meet us later.”

“Two things have gone well today,” Rafe said wryly. “Has to be a record.”

She laid her phone down and cupped his face. “We’ll find the vial. Give it to the Prince. And figure out a way to live happily ever after. Maybe we can even use the vial as leverage.”

They couldn’t, but he nodded anyway.

Another text, this time on Rafe’s phone. She read it and said, “Calum wants to know why we’re late for dinner.”

She texted a response before pressing her lips against Rafe’s. “Don’t worry. We have friends helping us. A detective. Two Green Berets. The richest man in the South. And Arragon.”

Arragon wasn’t even close to being a friend.

She gripped his T-shirt. “We’re not alone in this.”

Rafe kissed her softly, then not so much. His lips trailed along hers, devouring her sweetness. How could he leave her again? When he raised his head, he said. “We need to shower and change. Your apartment or mine?”

“I’ll grab some clothes and we’ll go to yours.” Taking his hand, she shot him a sexy smile. “Your shower holds two.”

* * *

Juliet unlocked the door to Calum’s apartment and threw the keys on the table nearby. The cold air was tinged with jasmine. Breathing deeply, she laid her dress on the couch with the zippered suit bags from Antoine’s Tailoring.

Rafe stood in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” She held out her hand. “Don’t you want—”

“I want.” The way he said it, with his voice two octaves lower, made her smile. “I just…wish this day wouldn’t end.”

She took his fingers to tug him in. The door slammed shut. “We found my grants, we’ll find your vial.”

He let go of her hand. “Juliet—”

“No worries. No sadness. No regrets.” As she spoke, she unraveled her braid. “We’ll solve this if we work together.” She shook out her long hair.

His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. His intake of breath raised his shoulders.

She crossed her arms, took the edges of her T-shirt, and pulled it over her head. She tossed it to the ground.

He swallowed.

Lowering her eyelids, she unbuttoned her jeans.

“Juliet…” Now he sounded like he smoked three packs a day.

“No talking.” She unzipped her jeans and slipped them off her hips. Once she kicked them away, all she wore were her white lace panties and bra.

Rafe’s stance shifted as if he was about to fall over. With two fingers, she traced the lace waistband of her panties before trailing up to the lace framing her breasts.

Rafe’s chest jackhammered, moving in and out so fast he sounded like he was hyperventilating.

She bit her lower lip. He was hyperventilating. Slowly, she reached behind.

“We’re going to be late.”

“Calum won’t mind.” As her bra floated to the ground, she let her gaze wander. From the desperate intensity in his brown eyes, to his wide chest with the muscles cutting through the cotton T-shirt, to his flat stomach and tapered hips, ending at the obvious reaction to her teasing. She licked her lips, and his erection jumped behind the zipper of his jeans, the outline proving how much he’d missed her. Her hands reached for her remaining garment. The lace slid over her hips and down her legs, and she kicked the panties away.

The AC compressor kicked in with a loud hum and a rush of cold air. Her nipples hardened instantly, and Rafe fisted his hands at his sides. “You’re killing me.”

She chuckled while her fingers brushed over her nipples, tightening them even more. “I want you to love me.”

He closed his eyes, and she could’ve sworn his eyelashes were wet. “Forever and always, sweetheart.”

Forever and always. She took his hand and walked him to the bathroom. He followed, keeping his eyes closed. She turned on the two showerheads and, when the temperature was perfect, concentrated on him again. She’d been ready to undress him, but when she turned, he stood fully naked, fully aroused, fully focused on her. His brown gaze was so dark and intense she wondered if he could see into her heart.

And what would he find? For all of her sadness and anger over the past eight years, all of the grieving and throwing things and pretending she hated him, all of her heart closing in to protect herself, there was a truth she’d been unable to admit to until now. She loved him. Without rancor or regret. Without pride or humiliation getting in the way. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when it’d happened, but sometime within the past few days she’d not only forgiven him, she’d fallen in love with him all over again.

Only this time her feelings weren’t tied to the young bride or the wronged wife she’d once been. Her feelings came from deep inside the woman she was meant to be. A woman who could take care of herself but who knew when to rely on others. A woman who would sacrifice anything, including her own life, for love.

She tugged his hand again. “Come on.”

Once they were in the shower, he still made no move to touch her. It was as if he was afraid that if he did, he’d shatter, take her as forcefully as he could without hurting her, and send her flying into a million pieces of glittering light. Then it would be over, and the day would end. Maybe he was as afraid of having to leave her as she was to have him leave. Except she was no longer the frightened girl who’d let Nate interrogate her. She was no longer the person who’d endured days of endless light and nights of endless darkness while struggling with questions she couldn’t answer.

She’d become a woman who’d fight for those she loved, fight for her husband, fight for her future. And she’d figure out a way to break Rafe’s tithe to the Prince even though she still wasn’t sure what that meant.

Rafe leaned his head back under the water and ran his hand over his shorn hair. He’d closed his eyes again, and being a woman of opportunity, she took advantage. She poured shower gel into her hands and ran her hands over his body. She started with his neck, his shoulders, feeling his sharply defined chest muscles.

He opened his eyes. While her showerhead soaked her hair and body, she soaped up his torso and made sure her hands didn’t miss an inch of skin. The ocean breeze body wash filled the room with a scent resembling sunscreen and lemonade. It reminded her of lazy summer days spent in her canoe and picnicking in her back meadow. Sometimes they’d fall asleep in the sun holding hands.

She slid her hands down his thighs, and then his legs, touching all of him—except for one very male, very insistent part demanding attention. That she’d leave for last. Blinking against the warm water, she saw that his eyes were closed again and he’d stretched out his arms. One palm pressed against the tile wall, the other against the glass door. He was like a tension rod holding himself up.

“Rafe? Will you turn around?”

He opened his eyes, his lips stretched tightly over his teeth. His only sound was a long hiss.

She gripped his hips and pressed her breasts against his chest while the water rushed over them. His erection was the only thing separating them. His hard length cut into her stomach, but she’d something to do first. “Please.”

Slowly he turned, placing his hands against the wall and door again. This time, she started at the bottom, soaping and washing the backs of his calves and thighs. The light hair flattened beneath the streams of water. She had not realized the previous night how hard his butt was, even though she’d not only grabbed it while he’d pounded into her, she’d apparently dug in her nails and left scrape marks. “I’m sorry if I hurt you last night.”

He shifted his head so she could see his profile. “You could never hurt me.”

She wasn’t so sure about that but didn’t want to argue. Not now that her hands had wiped all the soap off his backside. Her next stop was his arms. His body arched as she trailed her hands over his biceps. The bandages on his left arm had gotten wet and would have to be changed, while his other arm tensed as she ran her hands down it. When she was done, he exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath.

When most everything on his body had been attended to, she slowly traced her fingers along the horrific scars on his back. The water and soap ran down in irregular rivulets, not unlike the random tidal estuaries that cut through her property. The diverted water ended at the small of his back. And that’s where she placed the first kiss.

Rafe’s inhale jacked up his shoulders, but he let his head hang low. He looked exhausted, defeated, discouraged, and lost.

She stood on her toes and, starting at his neck, began to kiss each scar. She lost count but didn’t stop until she sank to her knees and her lips returned to his lower back. His body trembled as she kissed every wound he’d received over the past eight years. His butt muscles contracted, and the veins in his arms bulged. Yet he let her do whatever she wanted. “Turn around.”

He let one hand fall, and it disappeared in front of him. “That’s not a great idea.”

“Please.”

He faced her, holding his erection. Slowly, he began to move his hand up and down until she stopped him. Taking over, she slipped his erection into her mouth. She sucked and pulled, her fingers holding the weight of his balls. Her tongue swirled around the top and trailed the length. Rafe groaned and panted, and she increased the pressure and speed until he grabbed her shoulders. “Juliet.”

She released him and looked up. His wet hair outlining his skull, as well as the absolute resolve in his eyes, made him appear even more dangerous. “Yes?”

“Stand.”

She stood, but before she could throw her arms around his neck, he spun her to face the wall. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close.

“I love you.” His whisper was half prayer, half demand.

“I love you, too.”

He growled against her neck. One hand left her waist to reach between her legs. Intense pleasure shot through her, and she arched her back, using one arm to reach up and hold onto his neck. He tightened his hold, his fingers moving to a rhythm that made her cry out.

“I need you so damn much.” He nipped her neck, and she tried to press herself even closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

She tilted her head to see his hooded eyes. “For what?”

“For this.” Using both hands, he lifted her hips and drove into her. He filled her completely, and she inhaled sharply. He paused to adjust his arm around her waist while the other braced himself against the tile above her head. She pressed her palms against the wet wall and forced her hips against his.

“Juliet.” The warm water was a cleansing prayer, her whispered name a sanctifying grace.

She craved more of his strength and size, finally understanding that not only had her outwardly successful life without him been empty and alone, her complete acceptance of his demanding body was a gift to him in return.

Although she was on her toes, she moved her hips to increase the tempo and meet his need. His mouth trailed along her neck, and tiny little bite marks sent shivers down her spine. “Please, Rafe. Harder.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaamn.” He reached down again, his caressing fingers meeting his own punishing pace.

She cried out as the pressure built. Her knees weakened first, and then her legs, until she found herself suspended by his strength alone. As he slammed into her, contractions started low, and she pressed her head back against his shoulder. One of his hands buried in her sex, the other clasped around her breasts holding her tight against his chest. She felt his thunderous heartbeat, heard his labored gasps, and used the last of her strength to tighten her muscles around his thick length. Every nerve ending exploded, leaving her hanging in an electrified field of pleasure. Like the night before, he’d taken everything from her and returned it tenfold.

Rafe suddenly pulled out, leaving her bereft and empty. His erratic breathing almost hid his next words. “Hold on.”

Rafe spun her around, lifted her by the waist, and drove into her again.

* * *

He was a damn brute. And, at that moment of being buried inside the woman he loved, with her breasts crushed against his chest, there was nothing he could do about it.

The moment she contracted around his cock, he pushed her against the wall and forced her legs to loop around his hips. The water burned his supersensitive skin. The roar in his mind obliterated everything except for her cries begging for more.

He hoped he wasn’t hurting her with his punishing pace, but the driving need to make her his took over. His balls tightened painfully, and his fingers gripped her thighs. Since this might be the last time he’d ever make love to her, he was determined to force every ounce of pleasure out of her. He’d use his fingers, his tongue, his cock—whatever it took to prove to her that she was his everything. That for as long as the stars hung in the sky, he’d love her.

“Rafe!”

He closed his eyes and gave in to the sensation of being buried deeply in her tight sex, the constriction in his balls, the heat scorching the rest of his body. His mind told him to wait, drag out the pleasure even more, but his body had other ideas. He held her against the wall, and on the third stroke, his world exploded.

It took three more deep drives to make her scream and empty himself completely inside her. A fourth to lengthen his time with her. A fifth to make the point that he was a part of her as much as she was a part of him. Both equal in their relationship as husband and wife.

She collapsed against him, trusting him to hold her up.

He carried her to the bedroom and laid her in the bed. He went back to turn off the shower and returned with a towel. Once he gathered her wet hair with the terrycloth, he got into the bed, making sure her still-damp body lay on top of his, her head tucked beneath his chin.

His heart beat erratically, his nerve endings sparked, and his cock lay against his stomach, half hard. It was as if that part of him, while exhausted, was making a valiant effort just in case she needed him again.

“I’ve never been so happy.” Her breath tickled his chest.

“Neither have I.” Which, of course, meant they were doomed. Fate loved irony and hated him. When life was about to turn in his favor, he could always count on that vengeful bitch to fuck it up.

“It’s raining.”

He heard rain on the roof, the rumbles of distant thunder. A storm had approached without them even realizing. “It’s almost over.”

“Your voice,” she said in a sleepy voice. “You’re mulling.”

He kissed her head. “We can’t fall asleep. We have to go to Calum’s.”

She yawned and closed her eyes. “Just a few minutes.”

How could he deny her that? This was the last time he’d ever hold her in bed, feel her soft skin against his hard body. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and blinked away the burning in his eyes. How had he ended up here again? On the verge of having the life he’d always dreamed about, yet having to walk away?

Because Gabriel hadn’t been empty. He’d been emptied.

Which meant Balthasar had won.

And it was almost time for Rafe to leave.