even tighter against him. He angled her head and deepened the kiss, his relief at finally having her where he wanted her making him so giddy that it was some time before he realised that she wasn’t responding.
But she wasn’t, he realised dazedly, easing the pressure of his mouth and softening the kiss. She was just sort of...there. Hanging limply in his arms. Completely inert.
Her heart wasn’t hammering like his, dammit, her body wasn’t plastering itself uncontrollably against his and her breathing wasn’t all ragged and shaky. She clearly wasn’t being rendered boneless by the experience as he was, which meant that for the first time since confusing lust for something more and proposing to Marina he’d just made a grave error of judgement.
Rafael jerked back, let her go and as he stared down at her stunned expression it all became abundantly clear.
Nicky didn’t feel the same way about him. She hadn’t been waiting for him to make the first move, and she hadn’t been baffled or struggling or any of the other things he’d thought she might have been doing. It had all been in his wildly overactive, desperately hopeful and seriously deluded imagination.
In other words he’d been a complete and utter fool.
SEVEN
Oh my God, thought Nicky in astonishment, touching her mouth and staring wide-eyed at Rafael as he took a step back and raked his hands through his hair.
What on earth had that been all about?
One minute, faintly concerned by the strangled groan he’d let out while rubbing cream into her shoulders, she’d been politely enquiring after his health, the next she’d been dragged into his arms and had the life kissed out of her.
And why would he do that? she wondered dazedly before her head cleared of the shock and the dizziness, and the only feasible answer came to her. Surely he couldn’t fancy her, could he?
No. It was impossible. He’d shown no indication 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—with the exception of supper last night—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 the heat of his mouth moving over hers, the pressure of his hands on her body and the tension that had vibrated through him. She could still feel his tongue sliding between 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 erection 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...?
If she’d given it much thought, which she hadn’t, it would never have occurred to her that someone fancying her at the moment was possible. Why would anyone—especially a man like Rafael who could presumably have whichever woman he chose—when she looked like a wreck and felt about as attractive as a sack of potatoes? But as bizarre as it seemed, all the evidence suggested that was indeed the case.
So was that what lunch had been all about? Was that why he’d switched on the charm and shot her so many warm blinding smiles she’d had to slip on her sunglasses? Had he been flirting with her?
God, maybe it was and maybe he had. And like the hopeless idiot she’d become she hadn’t had a clue about any of it. She’d taken his attention at face value, and, feeling so deliciously relaxed and so inordinately grateful that he’d respected her request to leave the subject of her nightmare alone, had casually returned his smiles and fielded his questions as if talking to an old friend.
Not only that but she’d asked
Learning to Kill: Stories