Haunted by Your Touch

I was on my second pint when Rafael came over. The alcohol warmed away the chill from the past two hours; what’s more, it gave me an additional shot of courage. He only had to glance at the man on the stool next to me before the Partial dropped some coins on the bar and left. Rafael sat down, ordered another beer from the suddenly attentive bartender, and gave me a measuring look.

“The patrols have instructions to apprehend anyone they find in the woods and bring them to me.”

“Good,” I said, trying to sound appropriately grateful.

A small smile touched his mouth. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

That was more direct than I had been prepared for. I paused, casting about for a response.

“I’d like to,” I settled on at last, “but you didn’t seem to believe me when I told you I’d seen the Pureblood, so you could just be humoring me about the patrols.”

There. Just enough truth mixed in to—hopefully—get him to buy it.

Rafael lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “You pointed out that I have nothing to lose by believing you. If you don’t trust in my honor, Mara, at least trust in my practicality.”

“And you should trust that I can see,” I muttered before reminding myself that I wanted him to drop this topic. “Earlier you asked if I’d wanted you to miss me when I was gone. The answer is yes, I did.”

His brows went up at my abrupt change of subject, but then a dusting of lights appeared in his eyes. For once, I didn’t suppress the attraction I felt for him but let it rise to the surface, steeling myself for what I had to do. Then I stared into his dazzling cobalt gaze with a slow, inviting smile.

“Speechless?” I asked softly, echoing his teasing question from before.

Rafael’s hand slid across the bar to cover mine, those strong fingers stroking with smooth, sure touches.

“Perhaps.”

I didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t being honest, either, so who was I to criticize?

“That’s all right, we don’t need to talk,” I offered, trying to make my tone sound throaty and enticing. “But maybe we could go back to your house and you can show me what you’re thinking?”

According to everything I’d heard, Rafael didn’t bring women back to his home. Instead, he had a fancy little room set up at the Plaza de Souls for romantic trysts. It was all I could do not to hold my breath while I waited to see if my previous refusals would pay off and he’d break his routine to take me up on my offer.

The lights in his eyes began to brighten, like stars about to go supernova. Thanks to the genuine attraction I had to Rafael, I knew mine were probably also gleaming with tiny specks of brilliance. Humans didn’t know that the expression “eyes lighting up” originally referred to demons, or they might hesitate to use the phrase themselves.

“What’s behind your sudden change of heart?” Rafael asked, his voice low but filled with a tantalizing undercurrent.

I let my fingers twine with his, stroking over those ancient rings.

“I’m sick of being patient.”

That was the truth, even though Rafael didn’t know I wasn’t talking about jumping into bed with him. Either way, it seemed to be enough. His hand tightened on mine, pulling me to my feet, and then he began leading me toward the door. The crowd around us reacted by pulling back slightly, deference this rough bunch showed to no one except Rafael. By the time we reached the entrance to Bonecrushers, his black-and-gold carriage was already out in front, the driver staring ahead impassively.

One day I’d have to ask Rafael how he always managed to have his ride waiting for him, but tonight, that was last on my list of things I intended to find out.

“You’re sure?” he asked, drawing me close to whisper the question against my ear.

All those years of guilt-infused wondering, waiting, and wishing I would’ve acted differently were about to come to an end.

“Hell yes.”

He opened the door and I climbed up into the interior of the carriage. A single gas lantern provided dim lighting when Rafael shut the door behind him. He hadn’t taken a seat before the carriage lurched forward, but he managed to stay perfectly balanced even as my head thumped against the cushioned seat. The horses seemed to be as impatient as I was, but to my relief, the carriage didn’t turn around and head toward the Plaza de Souls. It went straight, the direction of Rafael’s home.

Part one of my plan accomplished.

Yet now that I’d put the first step in motion, some of my bravado faltered. Odds were I wouldn’t be able to pull this off without paying a price. Gloria’s face flashed in my mind, followed by my sister’s. Both images firmed my resolve. Whatever the cost, I’d see this through.

Besides, I was already in over my head; all I had left to find out was whether I could tread enough water to survive.

Rafael sat next to me instead of taking the bench across from mine. The single flame kept most of his face in shadows, but it highlighted the richness of his red-gold hair. Being this close to him, knowing what would come next, made my heart speed up. I took in a steadying breath and an enticing scent teased my nostrils. Odd, I’d never noticed before that Rafael wore cologne. Probably because there had always been so many people around every other time I’d been near him, except for the two instances when we’d been on the back of a smelly horse.

“Mara.” His voice was no louder than a sigh, but it raised goose bumps across my skin with its intensity. “Come to me.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. Many times over the past several years, I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Rafael, even, if I was honest, going so far as closing my eyes and pretending former boyfriends were him during intimate moments. But this situation was nothing like how I’d fantasized. I had an agenda to accomplish, not a desire to fulfill.

Very slowly, I slid my hands up his vest, over his shirt, and to the collar of his jacket. Even through the layers of material, I could feel his heat and the firmness of his flesh. The lights in his eyes shone brighter while his mouth parted in the most sensual of smiles. Despite my unromantic intentions, tingling warmth swept over me. Rafael might have been a means to an end—and a treacherous one at that—but the reckless part of me still thrilled as he lowered his head. It was in my blood to find danger tempting, after all.

His mouth seared across mine, surprising me at the rush of sensations the contact caused. Before I could regroup and remind myself this was just a kiss, his tongue flicked along my lips, seeking entry. I opened my mouth, accepting the warm flesh that explored inside with knowing, sensual thoroughness. He tasted like spices and honey, a heady combination that incited me to draw on his tongue even though it was more than my act required.

He let out a muffled groan and pulled me closer, the pressure of his mouth increasing. Each stroke, flick, and probe of his tongue seemed designed to raze my detachment, centering me in the feel of him instead of my reasons for being there. His hand kneaded my neck, making it so easy to tilt my head back and let his arm support me. Then his kiss deepened even further, becoming more intense, until I began to feel dizzy. Need built inside me with no regard for my suspicions. I’d only meant to get a little turned on, but the throb that had taken up cadence below my waist was no halfhearted act. Maybe that was a good thing. No way would he believe I didn’t want him, not with how I couldn’t stop myself from pressing closer and moaning at the rough deliciousness of his kiss.

His arms almost crushed me to him when I slid my mouth down to his jaw and then to his throat. I couldn’t help it; his skin was unlike anything I’d felt. So smooth and silky, in such contrast to the hard, rippling muscles it covered. With his layers of clothes, I could see only the smallest bits of flesh peeking out from his face and neck. Naked, would his skin look as incredible all over his body? Have the same luscious suppleness on his arms, chest, stomach—and lower?

At the thought, that throb below my waist began to increase until it thrummed like a gong. As if he could sense it, Rafael yanked me onto his lap, the large, heated bulge in his pants pressing right against that demanding ache. Not even my gun belt jabbing me in the hip could distract me from the bomb of sensation that resulted, especially with the jostling carriage providing enough friction to throw gasoline onto the blaze of my desire. I was so caught up in the explosion of need that I didn’t notice he’d raised my skirt until it was well past my thigh.

Oh crap. I’d let this get out of hand in a hurry.

“Rafael,” I managed. “Wait.”