When he pulled away and took my hand to guide me down the street, I realized something particularly strange that hadn't been true when he’d sat me on the ledge.
There wasn't another person in sight.
My steps were wobbly as he guided me toward a little restaurant with outdoor dining roped off in the middle of the street. The sun had set fully while we had our moment overlooking the ocean, and stars lit the sky, and the shops kept the outdoor lights to a minimum to help reduce light pollution.
Never in my life had I seen so many stars or a moon so bright before coming to Ibiza.
He spoke in Spanish to the hostess at the restaurant, and she guided us to a table at the edge of the roped-off section. Moving to pull out my chair for me, he pushed me in as soon as my butt hit the chair. Tucking me up to the table while the hostess hurried off, he took his own seat across from me. Our server was with us as soon as he did, pouring ice water into glasses and setting them on the table while I reached over and snatched up my own to suck back greedy gulps. I'd been thirsty even before Rafe tormented me, so after he'd finished with me, I felt like a desert.
Rafe rattled off a list in Spanish without even glancing at the menu, shocking me as he ordered for me. It seemed presumptuous when he'd met me the night before, but I also didn't feel like dealing with the complications of choosing my meal with him. Knowing he'd be continuing to pay for everything we did together shouldn't have bothered me in the slightest, considering he could clearly afford it and I couldn't.
But the independent woman in me revolted against the idea, even if I knew it was probably a silly thing to worry about. I'd have felt compelled to order the least expensive thing on the menu out of obligation.
If I could even read it.
The server hurried off, leaving us in the small crowd of people dining outdoors. I rubbed a hand over my shoulder, wincing when the skin felt tight beneath my touch. It didn't look pink, not with the tone of my skin, but there was no questioning the symptoms of a sunburn.
"Does it hurt?" Rafe asked, studying the motion.
"Not too bad," I said. "Just a minor burn. Chicago isn't exactly known for its sunshine," I said shyly, realizing it was the first time I'd told him where I was from. I wasn't sure the decision had been a smart one, but there was comfort because it was a big city.
Isa was a common enough name.
He didn't comment, choosing instead to raise his water to his lips and take a sip. The server returned with a bottle of wine, pouring it carefully into two glasses for us. I smiled up at him, even if I wasn't sure I should drink. I didn't seem to be able to keep my head on my shoulders with Rafe when I was sober. If I got drunk, I'd probably let him fuck me on the table.
For the first time since I'd met him, there was tension in our silence. Things left unsaid after he'd pushed me outside my comfort zone and taken control of me in ways I wasn't sure I should like.
I couldn't say I hadn't enjoyed it, but it shouldn't have happened. It was reckless, dangerous. Not to mention that someone could have seen us. What would my mother have done if she'd somehow seen me?
I shuddered.
"I need you to know something, Isa," he said, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. "I won't ever let anything harm you."
"Accidents happen," I sighed. "I'd just rather not take unnecessary risks like that again. Please."
He squeezed my hand. "Living is not an unnecessary risk, Princesa. When you're with me, you're perfectly safe and you never need to worry about a thing."
"You aren't God, Rafael," I laughed, the smooth sound of his full name rolling off my tongue even though I'd never used it before. "You can't make promises like that, when you have no way of guaranteeing you can keep them. I'd much rather you promise me nothing rather than have you lie to me."
He chuckled, the sound fading into the darkness as the hairs on my arms raised in apprehension. "I am most definitely not God," he said. "But I will never make you a promise I don't intend to keep. Anything that wants to hurt you would have to go through me first, and trust me when I say that is extremely unlikely to happen."
"Okaay," I said, drawing out the last sound as the server brought us a platter with some type of Crostini. "That doesn't protect me from falling off a cliff, and there's just no need to push those limits."
He studied me, holding up a piece of the bread for me to take the first bite. His propensity for feeding me seemed odd, but I couldn't deny that it felt like an intimacy most men didn't afford to their casual flings. It helped me feel like I mattered to him in ways I hadn't expected.
Similar to the ways he mattered to me, even though he shouldn't.
The burst of acidic flavor hit my tongue as soon as I chewed. "Fear is how we know we're alive. I want to bring you to life, Princesa," he said, watching me carefully as I swallowed. His gaze on me felt knowing as I considered my response, eventually settling on the only thing I could give him if I expected the same in return.
Honesty.
"Then what do I do if I'm afraid of you?"
He stilled suddenly, setting the bread on the tray and wiping his hand on the napkin carefully. Something was so measured about the movements, like he worked to control his reaction and keep
