Never Say No to a Caffarelli

‘I don’t want to give you false hopes, Poppy. I know girls like you want the whole package, but I’m not interested in that right now. I have too many other responsibilities to sort out first before I even think about settling down.’

‘That’s fine,’ Poppy said, even though it wasn’t. Could she settle for a short-term fling and leave it at that? How would she feel when it was over? Would she be so deeply in love with him by then her heart would be shattered when he walked out of her life for good?

Wasn’t she already a teensy bit in love with him?

He came over and tipped up her chin so his eyes meshed with hers. She had to work hard not to show how conflicted she felt. Emotions she had never felt before were bubbling inside her. It felt like a vicious tug-of-war between pretence and honesty was pulling her in two. She wanted to tell him how she felt, that she loved him and wanted to be with him for ever, but the practical, sensible side of her resisted.

If she told him how she felt he would end their affair before it had even started. At least if she kept her feelings to herself she would have a few precious memories to treasure once he had moved on. And he would move on. Didn’t his track record prove it?

‘The press will probably hassle you for a few days,’ he said. ‘Try not to let it get to you.’

‘I won’t.’

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth. ‘You taste like spun sugar.’

Poppy gave him an arch look. ‘I thought you didn’t have a sweet tooth?’

His dark eyes glinted as he pressed her back down on the bed. ‘I do now,’ he said and covered her mouth with his.

CHAPTER TWELVE

POPPY WOKE TO the sound of birdsong at dawn. She stretched her legs and winced when she felt the tug of her tender feminine muscles. Rafe had been incredibly gentle with her last night, which had made it so much harder for her to keep her emotions in check. She had lain in his arms, feeling satiated, yet strangely dissatisfied. They were so close physically—she seriously wondered if two people could be closer—and yet she felt as if a chasm of difference separated them.

His world was so disparate from hers. He had the money to buy whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He could travel the globe and not have to stop and count the pennies. He had casual affairs that left no lasting impression on him. He probably didn’t even remember their names after a few weeks or months had passed.

Would he remember her after this was over? How long before he forgot her name or what she looked like? How long before someone else took his fancy?

Poppy turned her head and looked at him lying beside her. He was lying on his back, one of his arms loosely around her shoulders, the other hanging over the edge of the bed. His breathing was deep and even, his body relaxed, yet there was a slight frown between his closed eyes, as if his mind was mulling over something complicated.

Before she was even aware she was doing it, she reached up with her fingertip and smoothed away the tiny three-pleat crease.

His eyes opened and met hers. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you before that you should let sleeping dogs lie?’

She moved her fingertip to his stubbly jaw, tracing a line from the side of his nose to the base of his chin. ‘I’m not the least bit scared of dogs, even big scary ones who look like they might bite if cornered.’

He took her finger into his mouth and gently nipped it with his teeth, his eyes holding hers in a sexy little lock down that made the base of Poppy’s spine tingle. ‘You’d better stop looking at me like that.’

‘How am I looking at you?’

‘Like you want me to pin you to the bed and make mad, passionate love to you.’

Poppy felt a frisson of delight pass over her skin. ‘Why shouldn’t I look at you like that?’

He rolled her onto her back and entangled his legs with hers. ‘Because I don’t want to make you sore.’

She looked into his espresso-black gaze and felt another shackle around her heart slip away. How could she not love this man? He was so thoughtful and gentle, yet so passionate and attentive. How was she supposed to resist the feelings that were burgeoning inside her?

He was everything she had ever wanted in a partner.

From the first moment his mouth had met hers, she had felt a seismic shift in her body. How would she ever be satisfied with anyone else? Wouldn’t she always compare them with him? His touch was like magic. His kisses were hypnotic, his gaze mesmerising and his possession captivating and cataclysmic. She would never be the same now she had shared this incredible intimacy with him. It wasn’t just that he was her first lover; he had touched on something deep inside her that spoke to her on a primal level.