He sucks in a sharp breath, and then a sense of quiet power settles over him as he exhales. “Protecting you is what I have to do.” He holds up a hand to stop my protest. “Wait. Let me finish. It’s a compulsion, Adele. But it’s also an honor.”
“Wow.” I clear my throat. I don’t know what I’ve done to earn Rafe’s respect, but I suddenly feel safer and more cared for than I ever have in my life. “Thank you. Really.”
Rafe takes us to the tiny Taos airport and parks. He spots a small plane he must recognize because he takes my hand and pulls me toward it at a jog.
I’m in my heeled boots and a thin-strapped, lacy bra that offers little support to my boobs, so running isn’t my best look. “Hold up,” I shout.
Instead of slowing, Rafe pivots, scoops me up in his arms and runs carrying me, like he did that night I slid off the road. I have to admit, it feels nice to be carried.
I can almost see Mémère nodding smugly. Like she orchestrated all this as my guardian angel to show me how supported I am.
That I don’t have to do it all alone, even though that's what she chose.
We get in the plane, and Rafe takes the time to strap me in. The pilot is a huge guy with a military buzzcut. He gives me a thumbs up and a grin.
“Where are we going?” I ask again because his vague answer last time didn’t satisfy me. “I know you’re used to your team following you blindly, but I’d like to know where you’re taking me.”
“We have a ski lodge in Utah. They shouldn’t be able to find you there.”
“Whoa. You own this place?” I ask.
“Sorta. We bought it via a conglomerate with a few friends of ours.”
Rafe unlocks the front door to what he called a “ski lodge” but is in actuality a mansion. The floors are pale gleaming wood, polished to a marble-like shine, and the building stretches out in all directions. The living room features a fireplace suspended in the center of the room, with another wall of windows like Rafe’s place in Taos. Clearly he has a thing for bringing the wilderness indoors.
Some military-looking guy met us on the tarmac in Utah and handed Rafe a set of keys to a Jeep. And we drove another hour into the mountains to get here.
“Friends?” I ask, gaping at the vaulted ceilings. “Are they here? Is this where they live?”
“Nah. They have their own place in Tucson. It’ll just be us.”
It occurs to me that Rafe is some kind of multi-millionaire, which seems at odds for how hard he works and serious he seems. Like, why have this incredible ski lodge if he can never let his hair down? It’s hard to imagine him even knowing how to enjoy it.
The lodge is beautiful. Like their Taos compound, the construction and furnishings are expensive without being ornate. Functional, but with all the nicest amenities.
Rafe heads into the kitchen carrying a large cooler that could probably be rolled. I walk to the windows, only to find it’s actually a retractable wall. It’s dark out, but the moon is full, lighting the snowy forest. Steam comes from around the corner. I unlatch the wall and push it open a crack to step outside and investigate.
“Don’t go out there in those boots!” Rafe barks from the kitchen where he’s unloading the cooler of groceries that apparently came with the vehicle. “It could be icy.”
I roll my eyes and ignore him, shutting the door to his voice. The air is freezing, but it’s too beautiful to mind. I find the source of the steam in a huge natural-looking hot tub set beneath two boulders as if it were a hot spring pool in the wild. I drag the cover back and turn on the jets, which sends a cascade of water down the boulders in a hot waterfall.
It’s glorious. Totally inviting.
I’m not sure whether I want to torture or reward Rafe when I decide to strip out of my clothes and climb in. The hot water shocks my chilly skin, but it feels so good. I moan softly as I sink up to my shoulders, my curls trailing into the water.
“Adele?” Rafe’s sharp voice barks into the crisp night.
I sigh, wishing for once he wouldn’t be so on edge. We’re in a different state. Far away from the drug cartel. I’m safe. I’d like to see Rafe unwind. Find out what he’s really like. What’s his real personality under the gruff sargeant exterior?
“Right here,” I say softly.
“What are you–” He comes around the corner and freezes the moment he catches sight of me. His gaze trails over my boots, coat and scattered clothes on the deck then back to me in the water. He picks up my bra and rubs it between his fingers like it’s a mink stole, and I suddenly wish I’d let him take it off me the way he did last time. I love that he appreciates my lingerie as much as I do.