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As her release began to fade, she sagged against him, waiting for her heartbeat to slowly returned to normal. After a minute she pulled back. Rafe met her gaze, clear and steady. She felt no trace of shame, no embarrassment at what he had just witnessed. This wild abandon he seemed to inspire in her felt more real and true than anything she could remember. For a long moment they simply stared at each other. Rafe was still panting. And still hard beneath her. She shifted and moved to touch him, suddenly feeling very selfish.
“No, darling.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. Watching you was more than enough.”
Sylvia looked up at him and, without a word, pressed another lush kiss to his lips. One that was full of thanks. When she pulled back, Rafe let out a gasp.
“But you’ll need to stop kissing me like that, I’m afraid. One can only endure so much torture.”
Sylvia gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” She pushed off him and stood up.
“I don’t suppose you’ll untie menow.”
Sylvia bit her lip. It did seem awful to keep him tied up after that. And perhaps she was being a little too paranoid. Why wouldRafe Davieshave anything to do with her blackmailer? She gave him an assessing look as she began to button up her shirt. Rafe’s eyes tracked her every movement.
Then again, untying him would be like letting a tiger loose in his cage while she was still trapped inside. She was on the verge of telling him no when a loud rustling drew her attention. She turned around just in time to watch as a rather large hole in the roof near the hearth opened up. Rainwater came rushing in, nearly dousing the fire. Sylvia cried out and immediately moved to stop the leak. She picked up the bits of roof that had fallen on the floor and tried to shove them back into place, but the tiles were slippery and she wasn’t tall enough to reach.
Rafe called out from his chair, demanding she let him assist her. Sylvia turned back and stared at him as rainwater poured down her arms.
What choice did she have?
Chapter Fourteen
Rafe could see the exact moment when Sylvia gave in. The wariness that had filled her eyes finally gave way as the reality of the situation dawned on her. She needed his help. Rafe had already been working to free his bonds, so by the time Sylvia dashed over, it took only a few pulls to release him. He sprang out of the chair, threw off his ridiculous coat, and immediately set about plugging the leak. Luckily, the rush of water had already begun to slow to a trickle, as it must have been collecting on the roof for some time. Rafe retrieved the fallen debris and examined the hole.
“Bring the chair,” he called to Sylvia, who had been standing there watching him in disbelief, but she quickly sprang into action. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and privately vowed that she would not leave this cottage without acknowledging that he did havesomepractical uses.
Rafe then instructed her to hold the chair steady as he stepped onto the seat. The light was so dim he could barely see what he was doing, but Rafe felt along until he determined the contours of the hole and pressed the roof shingles back into place. He looked down and pointed to some piles of refuse that had fallen along with the shingles.
“Here, hand me that.”
Sylvia did his bidding, and he shoved the debris into every available crevice to further secure the shingles. After a moment the leak stopped entirely. Rafe wiped his hands and surveyed his work. “There,” he said with an air of satisfaction as he stepped off the chair. He wouldn’t be starting a career mending roofs anytime soon, but it would do for now.
Sylvia’s eyes were fixed on his chest. “Your shirt is soaked.”
Rafe looked down and found that the front had turned translucent. Sylvia’s sleeves were just as wet. He built up the fire until it was roaring once again, then began unbuttoning his shirt. Many would consider Rafe’s expansive sexual history rather depraved, but the truth was nothing he had experienced had been as erotically charged as this encounter with Sylvia. And he only craved more. Rafe dragged the chair closer to the fire and peeled off the soaked linen before draping it across the back.
He held out his hand to Sylvia. “Now yours.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Rafe laughed at the scandalized look that took over her face. “It’s a little late for modesty, don’t you think?”
Sylvia shot him a disapproving frown but took off the shirt in composed, measured movements. It was the exact opposite of the heated, wildly seductive performance she had put on only minutes ago, when it was as if she needed to tear the very fabric from her skin. Both were arousing in their own way.
She held the shirt out to him and pressed her other arm across her chest. Rafe did his best to avert his eyes, which was a trial, as she possessed the loveliest pair of breasts he had ever seen. Round and full and firm. He guessed one would fill his hand completely. And if she ever gave him the chance, he would damn well take it.
Sylvia shook the shirt by his face, and he snapped to attention. “Here.”
Rafe took the garment before carefully draping it over the chair in the spot closest to the fire. When he turned back, Sylvia was clutching her jacket around her shoulders. A shiver racked her frame, and Rafe longed to gather her in his arms. But he must wait for her invitation. He turned more fully toward her and was pleased to see her eyes roving over his body.
“Is that a mermaid on your arm?”
Rafe flexed the biceps in question, so she could better see.
One corner of her mouth curved up. “A navy man with a mermaid tattoo. How original.”
God, he loved when she teased him. “I’ve others that are more eclectic. Would you care to see?”
In truth, none of his tattoos were particularly original. They had been a way to prove his mettle and build camaraderie during his time at sea. An important feat for a young lad with his privileged background.
