“Oh my God, that was amazing!” Ella grabbed Rafe’s hand as they came out of the auditorium, her excitement bubbling over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a performance of Swan Lake quite like that one before.”

His long fingers curled around hers and he grinned, looking a little smug it had to be said. “Told you they were good.”

Ella wrinkled her nose at him. “Like I didn’t know that already.”

“Sure. But this is the first time you’ve actually seen them, right?”

Rafael had surprised her a couple of days earlier with tickets to a matinee of Swan Lake performed by the Bolshoi Ballet, and she’d been so excited she’d hardly been able to wait.

And the performance had been everything she’d hoped it would be, reminding her of those precious times when her parents would take her out to movies and plays and ballet performances. Except it wasn’t her parents at her side this time, it was Rafe.

He’d unilaterally decided to take a couple of days off since she was performing nights, taking her to the Met to a Van Gogh exhibition the day before—which she’d never seen before and loved—and then surprising her with ballet tickets.

He was obviously going all out to do things for her, and she had to admit that she liked it.

Yes, it had been strange that first morning, waking to find herself in his arms. And she’d been very unsure of herself, not knowing what to say or how to act. She’d never woken up with a man before and it had been weird. He’d been all about revisiting the sex of the night before, but that question about why he’d attended all her ballet performances had popped into her head and she simply hadn’t been able to dismiss it. She wanted to know why he was so fascinated by her.

Turned out that the impact she’d had on him back when she’d been a kid had been even bigger than she’d thought. She hadn’t known quite how to take it either, especially when she had no memory of any of the things he’d told her about. It made her feel guilty, too, that she couldn’t remember, that she’d been afraid of him, because the fact that she hadn’t been afraid as a kid had clearly meant a lot to him.

Of course, his answer had only led to more questions, but she’d gotten a little distracted by the thought that now that he’d gotten what he’d wanted from her, he’d get rid of her. And it had surprised her how angry that had made her feel.

She’d decided he should know that straight up, which had led to more passionate sex on the couch. “Never,” he’d whispered to her. And then, as he’d pushed himself inside her, “I’m never letting you go.”

He wasn’t serious, of course. It had been something he’d whispered in the heat of passion. He hadn’t actually meant it. How could he? When they hardly knew each other? Still, she couldn’t deny that the possessive way he’d said it made her feel good. As if he’d claimed her, and she liked that. Since her parents had died, she felt as if she wasn’t really anyone’s.

He’d gone to work not long after that, leaving her with strict instructions to not move from his apartment. To rest and look after herself until he got back. And it wasn’t until after he’d gone that she realized she had no intention of disobeying him. In fact, she didn’t want to go back to the empty silence of her parents’ house. She didn’t want to go back to the loneliness waiting for her there.

She wanted to stay here. With him.

So she had. All week.

As the foyer began to fill up with other people, Ella tightened her fingers around his, knowing what he wanted to hear from her. “Yes, Rafe. This is the first time I’ve actually seen them.”

His smile turned rueful, which wasn’t something she saw often from him. “Am I that transparent?”

She laughed. “God, no. Just very smug.”

“What can I say? I like introducing you to new things.”

And he did. As the days had passed, she’d slowly come to realize that he, in fact, got a lot of pleasure from doing things for her, or arranging new experiences for her to try. Admittedly that had involved a lot of sex, but not exclusively.

She’d also slowly come to realize that his pleasure made her feel good too, though she wasn’t sure why that was. She hadn’t thought his feelings would matter to her as much as they did, but she was wrong. They did matter.

“Speaking of,” Rafe continued, glancing meaningfully toward the theater exit. “Since I’ve taken the rest of the day off, what say we go home and I introduce you to a couple more new things?”

Her heartbeat quickened. “Are there any more of those new things left for me to try?”

His silver blue eyes glinted wickedly. “Oh, Little Red. You wouldn’t believe how many new things I haven’t shown you yet.”

She didn’t actually believe it, not until he’d gotten her home and shown her. Explicitly and in great detail. And she couldn’t say she wasn’t a little stunned and shocked, though more stunned and shocked about her own passionate response to them than by the acts themselves.

God, she was way more sheltered than she’d thought.

A couple of hours later, wearing nothing but one of his business shirts—since that was the first item of clothing that had come to hand—she stood in front of one of the bookshelves in the living area, curiously peering at the spines of the books while Rafe lounged on the sofa behind her. He was on the phone, his rich voice filling the space, and she let the reassuringsound wash over her.

He’d suggested that they go out for an early dinner, but suddenly, looking at the bookcase, she had a much better idea. Except . . . it seemed a bit lame and unexciting compared with visits to the Met and the Bolshoi and dinners in expensive restaurants.

Reaching out, Ella extracted the exquisitely packaged boxed set of DVDs from the bookcase, and turned it over in her hand. Star Wars. Limited edition.

She remembered watching it with her dad one rainy Sunday when she’d been about eight years old and had loved it, the experience spawning a love of science fiction movies that had stuck with her ever since.

What was Rafe doing with this? She’d never have guessed him for a Star Wars fan, though he must be, surely? To have this sitting on his shelf?

She glanced at the bookshelf again, grinning as she spotted yet more DVDs, this time the original Star Trek TV series, as well as the Star Trek movies, plus a number of the spin-offs.

Okay, so not just Star Wars, but a science fiction fan too, maybe?

“What are you doing?” Strong arms suddenly wound around her, his voice in her ear, his breath warm against her neck.

She smiled, leaning back into him. “You finished your phone call then?”

“And just in time from the looks of things. Have you discovered my porn collection?”

Ella held up the DVDs. “If by porn, you mean science fiction, then yes.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “My secret shame.”

She twisted in his arms, looking up into his handsome face. “Let’s not go out. Let’s watch movies and eat popcorn instead.”

His blue eyes widened fractionally. “You want to watch Star Wars?”

She felt herself color. He made it sound as if that was the most bizarre thing he’d ever heard. “Sure. Why not?”

“Have you seen it before?”

Briefly she debated lying, if only to make this another thing he could introduce her to, another thing that would please him. Not to mention feeling a little defensive of her answer. Then again, this was something that, if she was right, they both appeared to like. Something they could connect with that wasn’t ballet or sex. Because that was all they’d had in common, so far.

She still didn’t know what he liked to do, apart from work. Didn’t know what made him tick. All she had of him were his memories of her—and she didn’t even share those.

“I’ve seen it approximately fifty million times,” she said steadily. “And I love it. In fact, I love all the DVDs on your shelf and I’ve seen those fifty million times too.” She paused, looking up into his eyes. “I haven’t seen them with you, though.”

A flicker of emotion moved in his gaze, gone too quickly for her to recognize. “Then we’ll watch it,” he said simply.

* * *

Ella sat curled in his arms on the wide couch in his home cinema, her attention glued to the massive flat screen on the wall in front of them. He’d spent fucking thousands on the screen and the sound system since movies were his escape, and right now he’d never been more glad of the expense.

She’d loved it, in awe as he’d sat her down on the plush black velvet couch. Then when he’d started up the movie, she’d exclaimed about the picture quality, complaining that her father had never bothered with a decent screen since, according to him, a TV was a TV and the quality was all the same.

Which was bullshit, and Rafe thoroughly agreed.

What was not bullshit was her snuggling in his arms, apparently as into this movie as she was into all the rest.

They were currently on Return of the Jedi, having torn through the first two of the trilogy, and were now debating watching The Phantom Menace, though both of them agreed Episodes One to Three weren’t very good.

“Lucas’s dialogue never got any better anyway,” Ella commented, as Ewoks bounced around on the screen. “The only good thing about those movies are the lightsaber fights. And when they got rid of Jar Jar Binks.”

“And Ewen MacGregor as Obi Wan,” he added, reaching around her for some popcorn only to find there was none left. “Seriously? I hate Ewoks and you’ve eaten all the popcorn.”

She made a satisfied noise. “And it was good too. But wait.” Twisting in his arms, she looked up at him. “How can you hate Ewoks?”

“Easily. They’re cute. I hate cute.”

Ella grinned. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not. I’m very dangerous.” He bared his teeth to prove his point. “Unless you’d like another demonstration?”

“Hmm. Very scary.”

“You were scared of me.”

“I was.” A hint of pure mischief gleamed in her eyes. “But now you’re just an Ewok to me. Cute and fuzzy, making little noises—hey!”

He pushed her onto the couch, growling, kissing her, and stroking the warm skin beneath her cotton shirt, loving how she laughed even as he felt her shiver.

“You’re making me miss the movie,” she said breathlessly as he caressed the soft, silky skin of stomach.

“Your own fault.” He nuzzled against her throat. “And I do not make little noises.”

“Okay, maybe not.” Her fingers tangled in his hair. “I never would have thought you’d be a Star Wars fan.”

Rafe lifted his head, staring down at her. He’d spent the last few days basking in the pleasure of finally having her here, in his home. In his bed. Reveling in being able to have her wherever and whenever he wanted, and not only that. Her very presence was a reassurance he hadn’t anticipated. Waking up in the mornings with her in his arms made him feel calm the whole day.

He couldn’t get enough of her and had spent every waking moment thinking of things to do that would give her pleasure, that would delight her. She hadn’t been wrong at the ballet earlier. He did love showing her new experiences.

Though he hadn’t anticipated that this particular new experience—watching Star Wars with him—would lead to questions.

Questions that touched on subjects he didn’t want to answer.

Then again, he didn’t have to make a big deal out of it and hell, perhaps he could turn it around on her. Because he was still hungry for information about her and hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted from her yet, not even close.

He pushed himself away and sat upright, tucking her against him once more. “I like movies, what can I say? The more escapist the better. There wasn’t much to do at my grandfather’s house, so I used to watch a lot of TV. He was the science fiction fan. I picked it up off him.”

“He had great taste then.”

“You could say that.” Rafe decided a subject change was in order. “What about you? Science fiction and ballet don’t exactly go together.”

“That was my dad. A rainy day and boredom he decided to cure with Star Wars.” She gave a theatrical little sigh. “And so it became a lifelong affliction.”

He grinned, loving how playful she’d become with him. Lifting a hand, he wound his fingers in her hair, tugging her head back against his shoulder, then bent to put his mouth near her ear. “Little Red, I must know. Star Wars or Star Trek?”

She rolled her eyes. “Star Wars of course. Because Darth Vader.”

Fuck, what a delicious girl she was. “Not a Luke fan?”

“Really?” She half turned her head, her gray eyes meeting his. “Do I look like I like nice boys?”

He had to kiss her then. It was a must, because she could not be any more perfect for him if she tried. But just as he was leaning in, she raised a brow a brow imperiously. “What about you? Star Wars or Trek?”

He didn’t even need to think. “Star Wars.”

“Not because of Luke though. You don’t strike me as fan of nice boys either.”

“I’m not.” He smiled and brushed his mouth over hers. “I wanted the princess.”

Ella laughed, and the sound was a delight, shivering through him.

She’s dangerous . . .

The thought was so ridiculous that he dismissed it instantly. It was true that she had claws, but he was the dangerous one here, not her. He could hurt her and badly, yet she would never be able to hurt him.

He would never give her that power.

No matter how long he intended to keep her.