Free Love Me if You Dare by Carly Phillips Page B

head. “No, thank you. Listen, I’ve been over this in my head a million times. I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
    The pain in the other woman’s eyes was obvious. The wounds were still fresh.
    “Not at all. I understand.” Sara decided to change the subject to one closer to her own heart. “I bet Rafe’s need for a stable marriage is based on what he experienced as a child. How old were the boys when this happened?”
    “Nick was eighteen, attending college. Rafe wasfifteen. Carol was twelve, still pretty young, but the boys knew exactly what was going on.”
    “Which tells me Rafe understood everything that happened all too well.”
    “Exactly,” Angel said. “He knows what it takes to make a relationship work.”
    But not even he could work miracles, Sara thought.
    Angel rose from her seat and looked around at the mini-piecrusts on the table waiting to be baked then filled. “Great job,” Angel said.
    “Thanks!” Sara said, feeling proud of herself and her attempt at playing Betty Crocker.
    “Maybe tomorrow morning you can help me with the filling? I like to make them fresh before the festival starts.”
    Sara nodded. “I’d like that.”
    A knock sounded at the side door.
    “That’d better not be my father or Nick coming by to play handyman,” she muttered. “Excuse me a minute.” She turned and headed for the door, moving the curtain to see who was on the other side.
    “Rafe, come on in!” she said, opening the door, giving Sara no warning or chance to prepare.
    Rafe stepped inside, looking too sexy in a navy T-shirt and worn jeans. Her stomach curled in that funny flip she’d come to associate with being around him.
    “Hi!” Sara waved at him.
    “Hey.” He raised his hand back.
    Angel leaned over, greeting him with a sisterly hug. “What brings you by?”
    “I need to have a word with Sara,” Rafe said, his gaze never leaving her face.
    “I’ll just go inside and clean myself up. Give you two some privacy,” Angel said.
    “Thanks,” Sara murmured.
    Rafe waited until Angel disappeared, her footsteps creaking the stairs. He pulled out a kitchen chair, turned it around and seated himself, straddling the back. “You have flour on your face.” He grinned and wiped her forehead with his hand.
    Her skin burned at the mere touch.
    Though his eyes flared deeper, he didn’t acknowledge the yearning that was so obvious between them. “I came as soon as I got your message. What’s wrong?” he asked instead.
    “My bank sent me an alert. Someone attempted to access my account and track my purchases.”
    He frowned. “That’s not good. Any idea who?”
    She shook her head. “Nope. But I’ve only used cash since I left. There’s no way for them to find me that way.”
    “But if they are determined, it’s only a matter of time.”
    Sara exhaled a long, resigned breath while Rafe’sgut was tied up in knots. She’d gone from appearing like sunshine in white shorts and a yellow flirty tank top to looking like she’d lost her best friend.
    He reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her bare skin scorched his palm. “As far as we know, they haven’t found you yet. But I think you should stay with me now. Just to be safe.”
    She nodded. “I thought the same thing. Your place is remote and hard to find. Angel’s is right in the center of things. It’s just that…” She wrinkled her nose.
    “What?”
    “I was looking forward to helping Angel with her pies tomorrow.” She glanced at the uncooked crusts on the table.
    He burst out laughing. “Sara Rios, are you telling me you like being domesticated?”
    An adorable flush stained her cheeks, and an amused grin tugged at her lips. “Let’s just say it has its moments.”
    “Well, don’t worry. You can still help. You’ll just be stuck with me watching over you. This way if someone does track you here, they won’t get you alone.”
    She nodded in agreement. “If you don’t mind