to two men from inside the airport. He was shaking his head and consulting his clipboard, and he didn’t look happy. “I think they’re waiting on us.”
“I have an idea.”
She eyed him. “Yes, well, I have an idea what your idea is.”
He laughed. “I’m capable of thinking of something other than sex.”
Looking doubtful, she cocked her head and studied his expression. “I’m going to be sorry I asked, but what’s your idea?”
“Stay with me here in Tahoe tonight.”
“I thought this was an idea about something other than sex.”
“It is. We’ll find something fun to do, have a great meal, and then go to a bed and breakfast. Fly home tomorrow, instead.”
She blinked. “That sounds like a date. A very long one.”
With his mouth so close to her ear, he could breathe her in with every breath. He kissed her neck, felt her tremor and knew they had to follow this through. “After everything else we’ve done, don’t you think a date would be almost tame?”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t know…”
“You wanted hot and wild. Granted, you got a nice start on it, and I had to take cold showers all week, but there’s more, so much more-” He laughed softly when she blushed. “Don’t be shy now. Come on, Emma, aren’t you in the least bit curious about the rest? I mean, we practically burn each other up just from kissing. Let’s see where this goes.”
“You’re talking physically.”
He knew she’d shy away from more, plus he wasn’t ready to go there, either. “Yes.”
Her gaze had drifted out to the mountains again and then she brought it back to him. “In the name of research.”
“Does that make you feel better? To call it something other than what it is, which is an attraction, a deep one?”
She let out a huff of air but had the good grace to smile. “I believe it does.”
“Whatever works for you, then. I just…want you.”
“Rafe-” She was still smiling, but she was going to say no, he could feel it.
But then the pilot appeared at their side, his clipboard gripped tight in his fist. “They’re saying we’re overloaded. They’ll let on one more person, but then we’re at maximum capacity.”
Rafe craned his neck and looked at the plane. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, sir. Maybe you all ate too much while you were here.” He offered a feeble smile.
They must have flown up here overloaded. Rafe thought about all the small plane tragedies he’d ever heard about, and felt a little sick.
“Someone’s got to stay,” the pilot said apologetically. “I’ll charter another flight for whoever does, or come back for them myself.”
Emma looked at the plane, then around them at the incredible landscape, and finally, back at Rafe. Without taking her eyes off him, she said to the pilot, “The two of us can stay.”
“Only one of you needs to,” the pilot said.
“But two of us are going to.” Rafe held Emma’s gaze.
“Thank you,” their pilot said sincerely, clearly relieved to have the problem solved without trouble.
Rafe smiled at Emma, who smiled back, albeit tremulously.
She was unsure and, honestly, he felt the same. They had a large expanse of time stretching out in front of them, to do whatever they wanted.
The only problem was, he wasn’t sure it would be long enough.
THE TRUCKEE/TAHOE AIRPORT was about ten miles outside of Lake Tahoe, in the small, quaint town of Truckee. They’d gotten hotel rooms, found the town, and had changed before going for dinner. They decided on the restaurant in the lovely hotel downtown where they were staying, a historical building rich in Old West detail. Their waitress told them that one hundred years ago, there’d been saloon fights in the dining room on a daily basis and a brothel upstairs.
Now, after years of neglect, the place had been recently renovated. With its buttery walls and soft lighting, it was a perfect setting for intimate dining.
But Emma didn’t know if she was ready for intimate.
Before they had come in here, they’d walked around downtown. Commercial Row was filled with galleries, eateries and unique little shops that had kept them entertained for a few hours. Now darkness had fallen, cloaking them in that strange sense of isolation Rafe always provided.
She sipped her wine while they waited for their food, and looked at the tall, dark and mouthwateringly gorgeous man sitting across from her. With the candlelight glowing over his dark, dark hair and his rugged, tanned features, she could imagine him sitting there one hundred years ago, looking for trouble, then possibly going upstairs to visit the brothel.
She’d never looked for trouble a single day of her life, and yet here she was herself, courting it. Right upstairs were their rooms where they could go and finish what they started.
She could be in his arms for an entire night…Oh, yes, definitely trouble as she’d never experienced it before.
Her body hummed in anticipation, her pulse thumped a dull, heavy beat that echoed in her ears. Even her skin twitched, along with every erogenous zone in her body, of which there appeared to be more than she could have imagined.
“My sisters would love this place.” Rafe looked around him at the walls that had historical prints and antique mining tools mounted on them.
This fascinated her, the thought of Rafe as a family man. “Do you see them a lot?”
“When I’m home. Which I rarely am.” He smiled. “But yeah, we hang out. We like each other. Or we did.” He laughed. “Now that I’ll be home more, I’ll be in their hair driving them crazy, making them wonder why they ever wanted me to travel less.”
“How will you drive them crazy?”
His smile widened just a bit wickedly. “Oh, I’ll have fun torturing Carolyn’s dates. I can’t do that to Tessa anymore-she’s married with a baby on the way-but I’ll find ways to get her, too. I’ll probably buy my soon-to-arrive niece or nephew a drum set or a tuba.”
“But…those are loud instruments.”
“Yeah.” He grinned so disarmingly that she found herself grinning back.
“I’m trying to imagine you as an obnoxious brother,” she said.
“I’m good at it.”
“What do they do back to you?”
“Mostly just keep track of my every indiscretion. They say they’re going to use it all against me someday when I have a wife and kids.”
He didn’t look worried, but…happy. She tried to imagine the sort of easy love he was describing. It didn’t apply to her own family. “I used to pretend my sister and I were like that,” she said. “Close. Loving.”
“I thought all twins were close.”
“Oh, we’re close.” She frowned into her wine. Close as in she was always there for Amber.
But who was there for her? “Just in a different sort of way,” she said.
“Such as one of you needing the other one to constantly get her out of messes?”
“She’s not a bad person.”
“Not at all,” he agreed, and his fingers stroked hers. “But if I had to guess, it’s got to be more of a parental relationship, with you being the parent.”
That was it exactly. “Yes.”
Bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, he kissed her palm, and brought her flutters right back. “What about your parents?”
“My dad died before we were born. And my mother…She’s a writer, too. Literary fiction,” she clarified. “The important stuff. What we do confuses her. I guess I can see that-having one daughter who tends to take off her
