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“That’s all? I don’t know if that will ever happen, and besides, that can’t be all you want,” I protested. “I won’t see your doctor until I know what I’m agreeing to.”
Rafe smirked, looking genuinely amused. It should have been an annoying expression, but it warmed me.“You’re stubborn and headstrong, aren’t you, little one.”
His words caused a white-hot rush of excitement to flood my body.
“Maybe I just want you to owe me, Elena Morova,” he said finally. He turned away. “Now, you have to eat something.”
I guessed the conversation was over.
* * *
By the time Rafe returned,I’d had time to think of a comeback and for my bladder to fill to the point of bursting. There was just one problem—whenever I tried to put my weight on my ankle, I ended up back on the bed, sweating and nauseous from the pain.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rafe asked, coming in with a tray.
The aroma of fresh coffee was like the sweetest nectar and called to me from the tray. My covers were disturbed, and I probably looked as stressed as I felt.
“I need to get up,” I said flatly.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll bring it.” Rafe’s tone left no room for argument. He was a man used to being in charge, and it seemed there was no choice but the truth.
“Nature is calling,” I shook my head. “No, make that,screamingat me, so I need to get up,” I said, widening my eyes to relay the urgency of the situation.
Rafe nodded, unperturbed.“Fine, hold on to my neck and I’ll carry you.”
I gaped at him.“You think I’m letting a man I barely know carry me to the bathroom?” I demanded.
He shrugged with that infuriating grace of his.“You have no choice unless you want to risk hurting yourself further. I don’t think less of you for knowing you use the bathroom. I hate to break it to you, but everyone does, angel.”
His gentle teasing and matter-of-fact attitude allowed me to cling to a smidgen of dignity.“Fine,” I relented, holding my arms up and waiting as he leaned in and lifted me.
The man was strong. Stronger than the partners I’d had on stage, that was for sure. He wielded a burly type of strength, raw and brutish. He carried me across the room as if I weighed no more than one of the feather pillows on my bed, and I got a good waft of the tanned skin at the base of his neck. It was sublime. I tried to sniff inconspicuously.
“You have a cold?” he asked.
Crap. Guess I wasn’t as inconspicuous as I’d thought.
“Allergies,” I lied.
The opulent bedroom housed a private bathroom, and Rafe carried me inside. White marble with gold veins and dark blue towels adorned the space. It was stunning.
Rafe carried me directly to the lavatory.
“Put me down. I can do the rest,” I nearly screeched.
Rafe slowed and carefully, as if I was made of glass, lowered my good foot to the floor.“Let me help you, Elena.” He took my hand and guided me as I hopped inelegantly toward the toilet.
Christ, this was embarrassing.
When the back of my knees hit the edge, I nodded toward the door.“Ok, you can go. I’ve got it.”
Rafe frowned.“How will you manage your clothes?”
Bloody leotard. I stared at him, feeling a scream of frustration build in my chest. Not only did this handsome, mysterious stranger have to take me to the toilet like a kid, but now he was going to have to help me get out of the stretchy leotard. There was no way I could do it alone without leaning on my sore foot.
I swallowed, and his eyes dropped to my neck and the pulse point hammering away under the delicate skin. This shouldn’t be turning me on. Having this man undress me shouldn’t be making my skin feel hot and tight, but it was. I couldn’t deny it.
“Close your eyes.” My words were a whisper, but they sounded loud in the stillness of the bathroom.
Rafe’s eyes met mine again, and I braced myself to see what he would do. This was insane. I was isolated with this stranger, and no one knew where I was. He could do anything he wanted to me, yet I felt brave enough to tell him to close his eyes while he undressed me. Wasn’t I playing with fire? But he’d promised not to hurt me, and what else could I go by right now? I usually followed my gut, and it was telling me that Rafaelle Luciano was a dangerous man–but not to me. I didn’t know why I felt so sure of that, only that I did.
His dark eyes held mine a moment longer and then snapped closed. I breathed a silent sigh of relief as his big hands moved to my shoulders and I clung to his waist. I worked one arm worked out of the leotard. The invisible netting of the stage costume was tight and restrictive—unlike practice leotards—and I had to bend myself this way and that to get out of it. Rafe’s hand on my waist was like an anchor, holding me still and enabling me to manage on one foot.
I moved to my other arm, all without him opening his eyes. I had no bra beneath the leotard. I seldom wore one. I held onto Rafe’s chest, keeping my sore foot raised, as his warm, calloused hands tugged the material down my chest. My nipples prickled in the cool air, and I fancied I could feel his breath on them. His fingers lightly brushed the sides of my tits as he continued down, and he paused a long moment. Something wet and eager filled my belly, and I held my breath. Would he forget his promise to be a gentleman and cup my small breasts in those big, capable hands, rolling the nipples between his blunt fingertips?
Instead, he moved downward, tugging the material past my waist, over my butt, and down my thighs. I felt like a kid being undressed before bed. There was something soothing about it. Like someone else was taking responsibility for all my stresses, allowing me to lean into their greater strength and just be.
Naked now, except for the leotard bunched around my thighs, I gripped Rafe’s hand and lowered myself to the seat behind me. He turned away immediately and went to the door. Tension filled the room, and it felt like the slightest spark could ignite it.
“Call me if you need me. I’ll be outside,” Rafe said in a strained voice as he left the room.
