CHAPTER SIX
VIVIAN CLIMBED INTO HER car with a sigh, but she didn’t start it right away, choosing instead to rest her head on the steering wheel as her confused emotions ran rampant.
She was getting in too deep with Diego and with Rafael, caring too much about both of them, and she needed to put on the brakes. Diego was a client, she reminded herself, albeit a young one in desperate need of help. But still just a client. She needed to step back, be objective, not hurt so badly for him. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be much use as his lawyer.
Reason before emotion. The words of her favorite law school professor came back to her. You can feel as much compassion for a client as you want—after the trial—but keep it out of the courtroom, otherwise you’re doing both of you a disservice.
It was a rule she’d lived by up until now. No matter how angry she was over what had happened to her pro bono clients, she kept her emotions out of it, at least until after they’d won in court.
But she couldn’t do that with Diego when he was so lost and in so much trouble. Vivian’s sister had died years before—confused and alone—because no one had helped her when she needed it. Though the situations were different—Merry had been the victim, not the accused—something about Diego reminded her of her older sister. Like Merry, he was innocent, without guile, and like Merry, he was being punished for it.
Vivian had been too young to save her sister from her abusive marriage, but she wasn’t a kid anymore. She would not see Diego suffer any more than he already had simply because the people in control didn’t believe him. She wouldn’t turn her back on him the way her parents had turned their backs on Merry.
She could do this, she told herself. Help Diego and find a way to regain her objectivity. Even as she told herself it was possible, a picture of Diego bruised and battered and broken rose in her mind, and she knew, for better or worse, that she wasn’t going to be stepping back anytime soon.
If she ended up getting hurt because she couldn’t keep her distance, then that was nobody’s business but hers. She’d find a way to deal with it.
As for Rafael…She banged her head on the steering wheel a couple of times. What was wrong with her that she was so attracted to him? A few kind words in a hospital room and suddenly she was willing to forget how ugly he’d been to her? She didn’t trust him and he sure as hell didn’t trust her, yet all she’d been able to think of on the ride home was cuddling as close to him as possible. She’d wanted to crawl around him, surround him, take away the pain she could feel in every tense muscle and see in every line on his face. It was ridiculous. He made her nervous—he was too big, too strong, too dominant for her. He wanted to control everything, when she was used to being the one in control.
Admittedly, after watching her sister suffer at the hands of her smooth, handsome, well-built husband, Vivian was a lot more cautious than most women. She liked to play it safe, and though Rafael was a lot of things—sexy, smart, strangely compelling—he was not the least bit safe.
The vulnerability he made her feel was proof of that. Lessons had started early at her house and she’d spent nearly thirty years learning how dangerous it was to leave herself emotionally exposed to someone else. There was no way she was going to voluntarily let Rafael in and hope he didn’t hurt her.
Diego was a kid who couldn’t help himself, so she didn’t have a choice there. But Rafael was another story altogether and there was no way she could afford to go there.
Her decision didn’t stop her libido from standing up and taking notice—something it hadn’t done in quite a while. Maybe it was his utter lack of interest in her appearance. Or his prickly attitude and bad-ass looks that hid a heart that was much softer than he liked to admit. Or maybe—
Who cared what it was that attracted her? The point was she needed to get over it, to put it behind her so she could have some peace of mind. Barring that, she needed to ignore it so that she could do her job. Getting involved with her client’s guardian was an obvious conflict of interest.
But she could still see how he’d looked before she left—bereft, lonely, a little out of his depth. Kind of how she felt right now. No, she thought with a sigh, that was exactly how she felt.
Suddenly, all her arguments didn’t matter. She fumbled with the door handle, climbed out of the car and ran across the alley to the center as the frigid wind whipped around her. She didn’t know what she was expecting to happen, only that she didn’t want to go home to her lonely apartment.
Slipping through the still unlocked door, she started down the dim hallway, unsure of where to begin looking for him. A quick glance in his office revealed that it was empty, and she began to head upstairs to see if he was in one of the classrooms he and Diego and been renovating.
At the last minute, though, she changed her mind and padded into the big rec room at the front of the center. As soon as she entered, she spotted him sitting on the couch near the brightly decorated Christmas tree. The lights were still on, flashing and sparkling in all their multicolored glory. They looked incongruous playing over Rafael’s dark hair and clothes as he sat staring at the floor, elbows on knees, hands buried in his too-long hair. As if none of the joy in the room had managed to touch him.
“What are you still doing here?” He didn’t glance up.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“This thing with Diego—it would shake up anyone.”
“It’s late, Vivian. Go home.”
“I’m planning to. I want…”
“What do you want?” He did look at her then, his black eyes gleaming in the soft light. “What the hell do you want from me?”
A part of her wanted to scramble away from all that furious male aggression, but she refused to back down so easily. If he needed to lash out at her to prove he still had control of his life, then she was more than strong enough to take it.
“I don’t know.” She whispered the words because they were true. And because she didn’t know what else to say.
“That’s a cop-out.”
“It’s the truth.” She knelt and placed her hands over his.
“I don’t think so.” He pulled his hands from hers, only to wrap them around her elbows. Then he dragged her up until her face was only inches from his own. “I think you knew exactly what you wanted when you came back in here.” He tugged her a little closer. “It’s the same thing I’ve wanted since I sat next to you in that hospital room.”
Vivian’s heart pounded a little harder, a little faster, but she didn’t pull away. Rafael was right. She did want him—enough to chance being vulnerable, at least for a little while.
Yet he didn’t kiss her as she expected him to. Instead, he held her there for long seconds, suspended, her lips a few scant inches from his mouth. He was so close that she could smell the peppermint on his breath, could almost hear the wild pounding of his heart, a perfect match for the sudden craziness of her own.
“Rafael.” It was a whimper, a protest, an invitation, a plea.
And still he didn’t kiss her.
He closed those eyes and rested his forehead lightly against her own. They stayed that way for a while, drawing comfort from each other.
“I want to kiss you.” He whispered the words. “I need to taste you, to feel your lips beneath mine and know that you want me as much as I want you.”
She held her breath, waited for his kiss like she’d never waited for anything in her life.
And waited.
“Rafael?” Confused, she let her eyelids flutter open, and found him watching her.
“Say yes.” His voice was ragged, his breathing more so.
“Yes.” She sighed. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He smiled at that—a curve of his lips that was more dangerous, and more delicious, than anything she’d ever seen. Soon his hands were sliding up her arms, over her shoulders, his fingers gliding over her neck and up until he cupped her face in his huge, work-worn palms.
Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them to stay open so she didn’t miss one second of the most exciting, sensual experience of her life.
Then he was leaning forward, closing the small gap between them and placing his lips reverently on hers.
For one second, his kiss was soft, sweet, his lips as gentle as a butterfly’s wings. But then it was as if a giant floodgate had opened inside of him and his emotions and passions came pouring out.
He captured her mouth with his own, using his lips and tongue and teeth to brand her in a way she wouldn’t soon forget.
And it was good, better than good. It was magnificent. He tasted like moonlight and the richest, darkest chocolate. Wild and exotic, like every dream she’d ever had but had never known to look for.
He nipped at her lower lip and she moaned, opening to him without a qualm, knowing only that she wanted more of him, that she wanted everything he could give her and more.
She moved her mouth against his, then ran her tongue over his full lower lip and savored the luxurious taste of him.
He groaned at the first touch of her tongue, and she sucked the harsh sound into her mouth to ease the wholly unfamiliar ache whipping through her.
Was this what she’d been missing? she wondered vaguely, as Rafael took the kiss even deeper. This fire that licked through her veins and made her burn for more? For everything?
She tightened her arms around his neck, pressed her body more firmly against his and opened herself to whatever he wanted to give her. She needed him, needed this, in a way she’d never before imagined.
He took it slow, torturously slow. Kissed the corners of her mouth before tracing his tongue over her upper lip and lingering at the indention there.
“Rafael,” she gasped, wanting more of this incredible feeling that chased all the fears and worries and pain from her head.
“I’ve got you, Vivian.” He pulled her closer, cradled her in his arms as he did crazy, wild things to her mouth. She reveled in each nibble and lick that stoked the flames inside of her.
When he broke away she cried out, tried to hold him to her, but he refused to stay. Instead, he trailed his lips over her cheek and up to her forehead, lingering at her temple for a moment before kissing his way back down to the curve of her jaw.
How could he be so calm, she wondered vaguely, while she was melting from the inside out? How could he control himself so well, when all she could think of was crawling inside him and begging him to finish what he’d started?
“Rafael.” His name burst from her as her hands tangled in the silky length of his hair, and he groaned. The sound sent shivers down her spine, and Vivian sighed. It was too much, too soon, but at this particular moment she didn’t care. All she could think of, all she could imagine, was him.
“Wait.” He pulled away, panting heavily. “We can’t do this.”
“What’s wrong?” His sudden withdrawal left her feeling exposed.
“I want—”
Before he could finish, a loud crash sounded behind her and she jerked, startled. But Rafael was already moving, climbing off the couch as he thrust her behind him.
“Stay here!” he growled, and then he was running out the front door while she stared aghast at the hole in the center of the huge glass picture window that faced the street. And the brick that had just crashed through it.