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Rafe leaned against the entryway to the room. He wore nothing but pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips.
Holy hell.
The man was, in a word, ripped. She stared at his chest for a long moment before gathering her thoughts.
“Sorry, I got a glass of water and I was just trying to get the lay of my surroundings.” She nodded toward the painting. “Is that a Daniel Decker? It’s beautiful. It almost looks like an original.”
Rafe nodded slowly. “It is an original.”
Diana stared at him. He had a freaking original Daniel Decker painting? The British artist had come into fashion in the late eighties. It was said the royal family even had one of his pieces. There was no way someone normal owned a Daniel Decker. They went for hundreds of thousands of dollars.
“Oh shit. I didn’t mean to touch the frame. I assumed—”
His lips did that twisting half-smile thing again, and her skin flushed warm. Okay, him smiling at her was going to be a problem. She had to get a handle on her response to him. He wasn’t the first man to ever smile at her.
Yeah, but he’s the first one to look this good.
“It’s okay. I have motion sensor alarms set for the living room. I should have warned you. The moment you set foot in here, you set off one of them. You can get as close to the painting as you like.”
“Holy cow,” she muttered. “Motion sensors. Wow. Though, I guess with an original Daniel Decker, you probably should have motion sensors. You should probably get a whole like laser-beam situation going.”
And again with that smile. “Would you crawl under it like Catherine Zeta-Jones?”
For a full two seconds, she stared at him. Was he flirting? Because her body certainly thought he was flirting, the way she practically melted into a puddle of hormones. “While I do enjoy a pair of good yoga pants, I’m not quite so desperate to get a look at a Daniel Decker. If I’d known, I’d have peered in here through the dining room.”
“No big deal. The painting belonged to my parents.”
“Wow. Were your parents in the mob?”
His laugh was rich and deep, and it poured over her like warm brandy. “No. It’s actually a pretty cool story. My father won the painting in a card game. He and my mom died when I was sixteen. This and an Abigail Noir photo are the only things of value they left behind. My grandmother refused to sell them even when money was tight.”
“I’m so sorry. Here I am opening up old wounds.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Come on. I’ll take you back to bed.”
Why, oh why, did her synapses fry at the sound of that? No, you idiot, he doesn’t mean he’s taking you back to his bed.
She had to get a grip. Because as attractive as he was, it was never going to happen. And before this was all over, she was going to lie, cheat, and steal from him to get her answers.
chapter four
As far as hospitality went, Rafe figured he wouldn’t win any awards. But he’d made sure his guest was comfortable, making up the bed in the spare room that he’d never used with the sheets that were still in the package. But Diana hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, she’d been asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, looking for all the world like a small, wounded animal.
Rafe had stood there just staring at her for an embarrassingly long time. There was something… compelling about her. His secondary senses itched, poking holes in her sto
ry. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to examine things too closely.
I’m tired, he thought. Years of assuming the worst took their toll. For once he wanted to believe that someone was exactly what they presented themselves to be. Not everyone was a killer out to get him. This girl needed his help.
Now that it was the next morning, he was prepared for the gut punch he got every time he looked at her. He knocked lightly and then pushed the door open to see her sitting up in bed. Her blond hair was wild, and she had lines from the pillow marking up her face. She was a mess.
And the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Flustered at the thought, Rafe looked down at the bottle of painkillers in his hand and the plate with toast and jam. Irrationally, he wanted to hide it and then go find her something better. Despite the dirt and the cheap, thin dress he’d found her in yesterday, this was the kind of woman that screamed royalty. She would belong in some medieval castle being watched over by knights in shining armor. Which definitely didn’t apply to him.
His armor had been tarnished long ago.
The thought made him feel stupid, so he thrust the bottle of aspirin at her. “I brought you some medicine. I should have brought you some before.”
