‘Oh my God,’ breathed Nicky, touching her mouth and staring wide-eyed as Rafael dived into the pool, leaving her to stand there and try and make sense of the extraordinary turn of events the afternoon had taken.
What on earth had that been all about? One minute, faintly concerned by the rough strangled groan he’d let out when he’d been rubbing cream into her shoulders, she’d been politely enquiring after his health, the next she’d been dragged into his arms and had had the life kissed out of her.
And why would he do that? she wondered dazedly for a moment before her head cleared of the shock and the dizziness, and the only feasible – however unlikely – answer came to her. He couldn’t fancy her, could he?
No. It was impossible. He’d shown no indication whatsoever that he did. In fact, what with the whole braining him business, and the way he’d kept himself so busy over the last twenty-four hours and very definitely out of her way, she’d got the impression that she was more of a nuisance than an attraction. Which she could well understand because she hadn’t exactly been the ideal house guest so far.
Yet there was no denying the intensity and the passion behind that kiss. She could still feel heat of Rafael’s mouth moving over hers, the pressure of his hands on her body and the tension that had been vibrating through him. She could still feel his tongue sliding through her lips and tangling with hers with the kind of skill and focus that her former self would have revelled in.
And she could most certainly still feel the hard length of the arousal that had been throbbing so insistently against her abdomen.
Good heavens, she thought, blinking in surprise as it became pretty obvious that he did, in fact, want her. Who’d have imagined...?
My 7 tagees are in fact only 3, as I'm rather late to the party: