Then, holding her hips in his hands, he lifted up enough to snag her gaze with his.
And that just might have been her biggest mistake yet. Because as he thrust inside her with one delicious flex of his hips, as he let out a low moan that was a twin to hers, as he gathered her close, she knew the undeniable truth.
This was about far more than tonight.
This was about her heart.
About her soul.
But quite possibly, about falling in love.
But since she couldn’t go there, not now, maybe not ever, she closed her eyes and let the wave of passion take them both.
17
RAFE WOKE UP at the crack of dawn to find he had one tiny corner of the bed, no covers and no pillow.
And no woman in his arms.
Emma had the rest of the bed, all of the covers and both pillows. She was facedown, sprawled out and dead to the world.
Since he risked falling off the bed if he so much as moved, he didn’t. He just lay there and looked at her.
Always, he left a woman’s bed before the sun came up. So he stared at Emma, waiting for the claustrophobia to overcome him.
Nothing.
Still, he waited, for it would happen. It always did. It was why he wanted out of his “Hollywood” lifestyle, wanted to meet the kind of woman he could wake up with and feel excited about instead of panicked.
In anticipation of the need to run, he forced himself to slip out of bed. Leaning over her, he kissed her lightly before backing to the door.
He always left, he reminded himself. And he was leaving now because they had no future. He was leaving now because she’d wanted only one night.
He was leaving now for the biggest reason of all.
Because he didn’t want to.
He looked down at her, sleeping so deeply. If she moved, if she so much as twitched, he would stay.
But she didn’t.
THE NINTH PHOTO SHOOT was two days later. Emma had agonized over it for most of that time. She had agonized over everything since the moment she’d woken up alone in her bed the night after Rafe had-
Well. Thinking about what Rafe had done to her that night brought both the memory of incredible pleasure- more than she’d ever known-and a good amount of pain.
Because that was the night she’d realized she was in trouble when it came to her feelings about Rafe Delacantro. Maybe she’d realized it before then, but it hadn’t been until he’d made love to her, in her bed, in her shower, on the kitchen table at three in the morning while they were feeding each other cheese and crackers, that she’d been able to face it. She was in deep.
So much for keeping a clear head about this.
Now, hours before the shoot, Amber sat on Emma’s bed, munching on yogurt, her idea of junk food. Emma’s idea of junk food was a big old bag of chips. Thank God for good metabolism.
“Are you sure?” Amber asked for the fifth time as Emma stared at herself in the mirror. “Because, quite honestly, I don’t get why you have to do this.”
“I know.” Emma didn’t know how to put into words why she wanted to do this shoot instead of having Amber do it. She figured it was a sneaky way of seeing Rafe again, since she knew the way he’d left the other morning without waking her up meant that either she’d completely disappointed him or he was scared of his feelings for her in the same way she was scared of her feelings for him.
But she couldn’t imagine Rafe scared of anything.
Which meant she’d disappointed him.
Hard on the ego, but she’d had two long nights to agonize over it now. She could have been more aggressive, hotter, more earthy somehow-she just knew it. Maybe she could convince him to come back out to her place tonight and they’d try again-
“Because if I didn’t know better,” Amber said carefully, “I’d guess you were really into him. But since I do know better, it has to be something else, right?”
Emma pulled on her ear. “Right.”
“Ha!” Amber leaped off the bed and pointed at her. “You’re lying! You always pull on your ear when you’re lying. You’re into him, you really are. I knew it. Damn, Emma. Not Rafe. Anyone but Rafe.”
“Well, I-”
“I told you, he’s not the man to mess around with.”
“Look who’s talking. You’re messing around with his best friend.”
“But we’ve both been around the block and have no illusions. We know how to mess around with our bodies, not our hearts. You don’t.”
“I’m learning.”
“You, the prude, the Goodie Two-shoes, can sleep with him and get it out of your system?”
“Yes. In fact, I’ve already washed him right out of my system, thank you very much.”
“And that’s that.”
“And that’s that,” Emma confirmed.
Amber’s eyes narrowed. “So why are you doing this shoot?”
Good question. “I told you, I have a secret Harley-Davidson fantasy. I want to wear leather and lie over a motorcycle and have every guy’s tongue hang out.”
Amber didn’t look convinced. “Really?”
Emma mentally crossed her fingers. “Really. Don’t take this experience away from me.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
Yep. She knew that.
THEY DID THE HARLEY SHOOT at night, with the moon and stars as their backdrop on Mulholland Drive overlooking L.A. far below.
Rafe mostly watched, letting Stone handle all the crucial decisions on the setup. He knew Stone loved this business with all his heart, and he also knew his friend would do as well or better than Rafe had. He had the patience and temperament for it.
More power to him.
They were waiting for Jen to bring their model to the top of the hill for the shoot. “It won’t be Emma,” Stone said with certainty, when they were all set up. “I talked to Amber, and she said-”
“You talked to Amber?”
“Yeah.”
“You hate to talk to Amber.”
“I don’t hate looking at her.”
“Or sleeping with her?”
Stone lifted a shoulder. “She’s not quite as certifiable as I thought she was.”
“You have a thing for her.”
“I wouldn’t talk if I were you. You have a thing for her twin.”
Rafe stared at him, then sighed. “It’s a sad, sad day when the two of
“I’m not hooked,” Stone said. “Not even close.”
“Yeah. Me, neither.”
Much.
When the car carrying the model arrived, they were ready for her. A long, leather-clad leg emerged, followed by
