He prodded her shoulder gently. “Victoria?”
She looked so sweet, lying on his bed. But she probably wouldn’t appreciate waking up in it. From inside her purse, her phone buzzed. Though he didn’t want to pry, he took it out and browsed the notifications in case her driver had arrived early. No dice. The driver had canceled. Not surprising since it was after midnight on a Sunday, and his neighborhood wasn’t the nicest part of Escondido. He set her phone back in her purse.
What would it hurt if he let her nap? Given the late hour, he didn’t feel that great about her taking a ride-share alone.
As he watched her sleep, a rush of emotions surged through him. Affection. Empathy. Longing. What was it about her that made him lose his self-control? If he were being truly responsible, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have bid her good night after Araceli’s party and headed back to his apartment alone. But he was as fiercely drawn to her now as he’d been in Baja.
Before he rescued her on the beach, he’d made it a policy not to hook up with the guests at the resort. Though there weren’t any rules against it, he didn’t want a reputation as a player. He’d had his fill of that shit in Escondido. So, he’d resisted Victoria, at least until they camped out on the beach together. But when she attempted to seduce him, he gave in willingly. The next two weeks had been unforgettable.
Her forced himself to look away and picked up an Italian cookbook from the stack by his bed. His collection of second-hand cookbooks was an obsession his brothers teased him about constantly. As if he was a grumpy old man who didn’t know how to look up recipes on the internet. But nothing beat the satisfaction of paging through a beautifully photographed cookbook, letting his mind wander as he imagined visiting different countries and trying all the food.
Inspired by the conversation he’d had with Victoria in her office, he set down the book and grabbed one featuring recipes from France. He turned to the baking section and took his time paging through it.
What would it be like to go to Paris? To learn how to make French pastries? More than anything, he’d love to go there with Victoria.
After an hour, he could barely keep his eyes open. He nudged Victoria again, but she slept like the dead. He wasn’t about to sleep on the hardwood floor, so he’d have to take his chances in the bed with her.
He changed into pajama bottoms but ditched his shirt. Dario had cranked up the heat again, making the apartment warmer than it needed to be. He carefully pulled the blankets out from under Victoria, then covered her back up. She would have been more comfortable without her pants, but he wasn’t about to take off any of her clothes. Not if he wanted her to trust him.
As he settled into bed beside her, he put a few throw pillows between them. Anything to prevent him rolling over in the middle of the night and brushing up against her. He was almost tempted to kiss her forehead, but he resisted the urge.
He was going to behave himself, even if it killed him. If all she needed from him was friendship, then that was what he’d give her.
Chapter 18
Twelve Days Until the Wedding
Victoria struggled to get her bearings. Her brain was mired in a fog, she was wearing last night’s clothes, and she had no idea what time it was. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, only to come face-to-face with Rafael, who lay beside her in bed, sleeping peacefully.
His toned shoulders and chest peeked above the covers, making her wonder if the rest of him was bare. If she reached down to touch him, she’d have her answer. But on the chance he was a light sleeper, she wasnotgoing there.
Bad enough that she was in his bedroom.In his bed.
She took a deep breath and willed the memories to return. Last night, she’d come back to his apartment to wait for her ride-share. And she’d lain down in the hopes of easing her dizziness. But instead of reviving after a few minutes, she passed out on his bed. Judging from the light peeking under the shades, the sun had already risen.
Oh God.She’d spent the entire night at his place.
But nothing had happened. She was fully dressed. Besides, if anythinghadhappened, she would have remembered it, regardless of her fuzzy brain.
She was tempted to grab her things and flee. Make a quick exit to avoid any awkwardness. But leaving while Rafael was still asleep would be a coldhearted move. A call-back to her callous behavior in Baja. At the very least, she needed to thank him for taking care of her.
Unfortunately, now that she was awake, her full bladder demanded attention. On her left, a sliding door revealed a closet filled with clothes. Beside it was another door. She eased out of bed and slunk across the room. When she tested the door handle, it opened to reveal a tiny bathroom. Barely big enough for one person, but perfect for her needs.
After relieving herself, she took stock in the mirror.Hideous. Her braid had come undone, her mascara was hopelessly smeared, and her breath was disgusting. She unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through it, letting the dark strands fall loose around her shoulders. The only way to salvage the makeup was to scrub it off completely. Three swigs of minty mouthwash took care of her morning breath.
She slipped back into bed and checked her phone. A few texts from Connor, but nothing urgent. A text from Araceli. And one from her father. She braced herself, hoping he hadn’t noticed she’d been gone all night.
For once, the universe cut her a break.
Heading to Napa on an early flight. Back on Weds @ noon.
Yes. Two solid days of freedom.
When she set down her phone, Rafael was stirring. He blinked and smiled at her. “Good morning.”
His voice spilled over her like warm honey, the same bedroom voice he’d used in Baja, when he woke her every morning.
“Umm…hi.” She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry I passed out in your bed. Thanks for letting me crash, but I should probably take off.”
