The Burlington Manor Affair

He wasn’t about to let it end now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

THE STREET OUTSIDE Raphael’s was busy with traffic. It had started raining and Carmen pulled her jacket tighter as she weaved through the people on the pavement, headed to the taxi rank on the corner of the street.

“Hey, wait up.” Rex’s arm encircled her waist as he ran alongside her.

For a moment she thought she might be able to slip away, that he would get snagged waiting to settle the bill. She didn’t want him to see how upset she was. Pausing, she attempted to pull free. “Rex, I’m going home.”

“A moment?” He soothed her with his hands on her shoulders.

How she wanted to slide into his arms. She ached for him. It was worse than ever, a gnawing ache in her chest that would only be filled by him. It was as if seeing his ex like that made her realize she was lost to him, even though the encounter made her feel foolish and transparent.

She met his gaze.

“You said you wanted more,” he reminded her.

“I also said it would be wrong for me.”

“It won’t be wrong, not for either of us.”

He seemed so sure, and the way he looked, rain streaming down on him while he steadfastly ignored it, melted her to the core. She swayed unsteadily. “I can’t go there again.”

It felt like a lie. It was a lie. What she needed was to be in his arms. Heat built fast at her center and every part of her yearned for him.

“Give us a chance.” He stroked his hands down her arms to her wrists.

His dark good looks mesmerized her, his intense, determined personality evident in his actions, his appearance and his posture. The scent of his cologne made her want to move close to him, but she was too vulnerable. “Let me go.”

“I’m taking you home. That much is set in stone.” He flicked back the damp hair on his forehead. “But be warned. I want more than that. I want you to give me a chance. Things happened too fast last time, things that had been on hold for too long. It was good but it unraveled when we were under pressure, I know that. I’m willing to work at it.”

His words were sincere, and the way he held her...it all served to undermine the fact that she was losing the final shreds of resistance she clung to.

“I want you, Carmen,” he added.

That was it; he wanted, he got. Frustration gripped her. “You don’t know me. Not really!”

“I want to know all there is, but I believe I already know you better than you think I do.”

She looked at him, wary, afraid. It was only herself that she was denying, she knew that. Yet it scared her that she even contemplated the idea of giving in to him again. If she opened up, it would be too hard. He’d be gone, anyway. That’s what he was like, and she’d be alone, exposed and vulnerable. She had to keep it buried.

His hand locked on her wrist.

When she shook her head and turned her face away, he tugged on her wrist and reeled her into his arms.

He silenced her with a kiss. Possessive arms held her to him and his mouth crushed hers. Stunned and winded, she resisted, fighting him, but the more she levered against him with her hands on the wall of his chest, the more tightly he held her, and then she was swamped with it—recognition, desire and need. It was so easy for him, to click his fingers and women came running.

“I want you,” he said, his voice hoarse when she pulled back, “and as hard as this situation is, I like the fact that I couldn’t bear it that you walked out of there without me!”

She went to respond, but couldn’t muster the words when she saw the emotion whirling in his eyes.

“Damn it, I like that I hurt like hell when you’re not around, and I like that I’m ready to do everything and anything it takes to be with you. You challenge me, and that’s good, but it’s more than that. It was always there and I see it now. I see why it was always there.”

She blinked rain from her eyes. It was surreal, seeing him this way.

He thumped one fist against his chest. “I like this, Carmen. I want this—” he gestured around them “—to be here standing on the pavement in the cold driving rain laying myself on the line for you. I like what you do to me.”

It was always about him. “But I don’t like what you do to me.”