A Fling to Steal Her Heart

‘I’d say so. I’ve seen it often enough with colleagues who’ve had babies on my watch. Their pregnancies are hard work.’ He didn’t blink at her use of ‘we’.

But then she hadn’t meant it as in we, us, together. Had she? Oh, hell. Get busy, find someone who needed her attention. Raphael would go home soon. Fingers crossed.

But now he looked worried. ‘Who can tell with these things? Right, I’d better go interrupt the couple and do some more checks on Tania before I head away.’

‘Hopefully you’ll get home before it’s time to get up and come to work.’ She still had five hours to get through before knocking off at seven. By the time she reached home Raphael would be back here. Ships in the night. It should be ideal. No talking about things that got her in a knot, or brought that faraway look to his eyes when he was watching her. No wishing she could sit down and tell him the truth. To say out loud that she wanted more from their relationship but was afraid to act on it for fear of hurting both of them, especially Rafe. To explain she could not give him what he deserved after how Cassie treated him, and still she wanted to try.

‘I’ll do my best.’ He shrugged. ‘You got anything planned for the day once you’ve had some sleep?’

‘A second inspection of the apartment I’m renting.’

His face dropped. Had he not believed she’d move out? She’d thought he’d be only too happy when that day came. Seemed it wasn’t only her who was all over the place in what they wanted.

* * *

Friday and the end of a particularly drama-filled week with patients. Raphael felt his body come alive at the thought of a free weekend ahead. What would he do with it? Spend time with Izzy when she wasn’t working? Go and see where she was intending to move to. Visit the shops. There was quite a bit of shopping for kitchenware and furniture going on at the moment, and the landing on his second floor was filling up with packages and small cartons. Every time he walked past to his bedroom his heart slowed. She was definitely setting up her own home. Getting on with her life. He could learn from her. Find the courage to do the same.

Raphael let himself into the house and stopped. Paint fumes hit him. A foreign lightness in the hall made him gape. Wow. What a difference. Should’ve done it years ago. Except there’d been no motivation before. Izzy had changed everything.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in over-large paint-spattered overalls with a roller in one hand and a wide grin on her face. A paint smear streaked across her cheek. Cute. Sexy. ‘What do you think?’

I think I want to kiss that spot.

His stomach crunched, his blood hummed.

I think I want to kiss your soft lips and taste you.

Forget humming. There was a torrent in his veins. He was over waiting, being patient, giving her time. He had to do something about his feelings for her.

Dragging his eyes away from the sight that had him in meltdown, he looked around at the white with a hint of grey walls, woodwork, ceiling, and felt his mouth lifting into a smile that grew and grew. ‘Amazing. Who’d have believed getting rid of that magenta could make such a difference. This hall is twice the size it was when I went to work this morning.’

‘That’s a relief.’ She placed the roller in the clean tray.

‘You were worried I wouldn’t like it?’ He stepped closer, put his keys and phone on the bottom stair and stood there watching the varying emotions flitting through her beautiful old-wood-coloured eyes.

‘Not really.’ Her teeth nibbling her lip told him otherwise.

He had to force himself not to reach over and place a finger on her lips to stop her action. ‘Why wouldn’t I? It was me who bought the paint two years ago.’

Izzy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then lifted her head enough to lock those eyes on his. ‘I worried I’ve overstepped the mark by doing this without telling you what I was up to.’

Izzy never worried about upsetting him. Carrying on with whatever she thought best was a trademark of their friendship, always had been, and was one of the reasons he adored her. Something was off centre here, and it frustrated him not knowing what that was. ‘Relax. I’m more than happy with what you’ve done. In fact, I’m blown away.’ He waved a hand at his new hall. ‘This is amazing. It fires me up to get on with doing up the rest of the house.’

He hadn’t noticed the tension in her shoulders until they softened, and a smile touched those lips. ‘Thank you, Isabella.’

Her eyes widened and she glanced away, came back to lock eyes with him again. The tip of her tongue appeared at the corner of her mouth. ‘Phew.’

Raphael could not stop himself. He reached out, placed his hands on her arms and drew her closer. ‘Again, thanks. By doing this you’ve starting turning my house into a home and up until now I hadn’t realised how important it is if I’m to continue living here and become ensconced in a London lifestyle, not just working at the hospital every available hour.’

She was shaking under his hands.

His thumbs smoothed circles on her arms. ‘Izzy.’

Her breasts rose, stilled, dropped again. ‘Rafe.’

Afterwards he didn’t remember moving, couldn’t recall anything but his mouth on hers at last. Soft. Sweet. Isabella. Strong, tough Izzy. Returning his kiss. Returning his kiss! She tasted of promise, of fun and love, of life. And then her tongue nudged past his into his mouth and the world stood still. While his body fizzed, the thudding behind his ribs frantic, his groin tightening, and tightening further. It felt like an out-of-body experience, yet his feet were firmly planted on the stair below her. His hands were holding Izzy’s arms, now sliding around to bring her in close, closer, up against his body, chest to breast, her thighs against his groin, mouth to mouth. Kiss for kiss.

Yes. This was what he’d been waiting for. Izzy. She’d always been there, in his blood, his heart, but not like this. Until that day she married someone else and he woke up.

She moved, slid her mouth away, leaned back to stare up at him.

She’d better not have read his mind right then.

Her tongue was licking her bottom lip. Tasting him? Her throat bobbed. Her eyes were saucers, big, golden globes of heat and desire. ‘Oh, Rafe,’ she whispered through what sounded like need—for him.

His own need was pulsing throughout his body. ‘Izzy? You all right? With this?’ Please, please, please say yes.

A slow nod.

‘I...’ He hesitated. Talk too much and kill the moment. Don’t explain where he was coming from and risk having her change her mind, and running for the hills. ‘I want to be more than friends. Have for a long time now.’

Another nod. This time with a hint of concern darkening that golden gaze.

‘You don’t agree? I should stick to being friends?’

* * *

Raphael wants me.

Isabella wanted to let go her grip on his shoulders, to step back, take time to think this through. But if she removed her hands, couldn’t feel him under her palms, she’d curl up and die. She wanted him. Yes, she was admitting it at l

ast. She wanted Rafe. But that fear was still there, lurking at the edges of her mind. What if she failed him? What if it didn’t work out? She’d lose the most important person in her life.

He was waiting. Patiently. Yet there was tension in his muscles. She felt it under her hands, saw it in his jaw, knew it in his eyes. Had he thought beyond this moment? Of course he would’ve. This was Raphael—not Mr Spontaneity, not Mr Take-What-I-Can-Get-and-to-Hell-with-the-Consequences. Friends or lovers? She could not continue being neutral. Had to stop playing safe. Digging deep, she found it wasn’t so hard to ask, ‘Want to go upstairs?’

He lifted her off the stairs, held her against him. ‘Thought you’d never ask.’

Slipping her arms around his neck she gazed at this man she’d always known and was now going to learn about in an entirely different way, and let go all the hang-ups, the questions, the need to be someone, and went with being who she was, who she had. Raphael. Nuzzling his neck, she smiled when his arms tightened around her as he carried her up to his bedroom.

He lay her on the bed.

Oh, no, you don’t.

She leapt up, stood in front of him and reached for the first button on his shirt, slowly slid it through the buttonhole and leaned close to kiss the spot she’d revealed. Then the next button, and licked his skin, smiling when he groaned. The third button, and Rafe’s hands skimmed down her back to clasp her butt.

The fourth button and her head was spinning with need.

Those strong hands were lifting her up against his erection. His manhood pressing into her belly. OMG.

The fifth and—She had to stop or this would be over before it got any further. She couldn’t stop. Her whole body was crying out for release, yet she wanted so much more, wanted to touch all of him, every inch of skin. Forget the buttons. She jerked the shirt out of his waistband and pushed it up.

Rafe lifted his head enough for her to tug the annoying shirt off. Then she went back to kissing and licking that smooth skin, and absorbing the hits of sharp desire stabbing her belly, her breasts, her centre. Hands on her waist, then she was wobbling on her feet as the domes of the overalls were pulled open. The oversized boiler suit fell to her hips, then to the floor, unaided by Rafe’s hands now intent on lifting her T-shirt and touching her—everywhere.