Inwardly, he cursed, the words flying through his brain in his native tongue. He wanted to resist taking her hand, but how could he? She’d been brave earlier. He had to show the same courage and control. He extended his, wrapped hers in it, and let her pull him, towards the pool.
“The water’s beautiful and warm,” she said, voice a husky whisper. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a shy smile on her lips. “Or it was, when I was in here this morning.”
“It’s always heated,” he heard himself say. As though he were some kind of realtor.
“Ah.” Her voice trembled a little on that single syllable.Do the right thing.“Fancy.” Her lips wobbled quickly with a hint of amusement, like a leaf on the breeze.
The vista from his terrace was always stunning, but at this time of day, at this time of year, it was beyond description. The way the dusky sun hit the green of the fields, the shadows cast by the cypress trees, the palette of the sky, it was all mesmerizing. But that was nothing to the way her touch made him feel, or the way her smile ignited something deep in his soul.
They walked into the water together, and it lapped around them in a way that was reminiscent of what they’d shared that night, feelings overlapping, pleasure shared.Get a grip.
Once in the water, she let go of his hand though, and kicked away from him a little, into the deeper middle of the pool. He stood where he was, watching as she dipped beneath the surface and emerged, hair wet, like a glossy curtain that hung down her back. Her lashes were dark and clumping together, and water droplets ran over her face when she glanced at him.
“Coming?” she asked, one brow raised.
His gut twisted.Do the right thing.“Certo.” He walked across the bottom of the pool, taking his time to reach her in the hope that sanity and self-control would reassert themselves by the time he got to her.
Only, as soon as he was close enough, his hand reached out and connected with her naked hip beneath the water, then, his other followed suit, holding her to save Elodie from needing to paddle. Except the contact had nothing to do with altruism and everything to do with a deep, desperate urge to be close.
Her nostrils shifted as she breathed in quickly, and then, she moved ever so slightly, kicking in the water to bring herself close to him.
He didn’t even bother telling himself to take control now. He was fighting a losing battle, and he’d never been so happy about it. It was the one instance he could think of where losing was actually winning.
But for Elodie’s sake, he needed to be strong. To remember the cogent argument she’d made, the day before. This was potentially a disaster to their future. There was too much at stake to let sexual attraction rule.
“Elodie,” he said, frowning, as her eyes moved from his forehead to his mouth and then to his shoulder, as though she was fascinated by the snake tattoo.
“Is she why you got this?” Elodie asked, lifting a hand to the inscription and tracing along it.
All he could do was nod. “Marcia, and a bottle of scotch,” he quipped, earning another quick flicker of a smile from her. Her finger had already traced the letters, but she kept it there anyway, running over his skin in a way that made his whole body catch fire.
“It suits you.”
He supposed it did but hearing that from her was somehow jarring. Her hand moved sideways, to the top of his arm. She began to draw invisible circles over his bicep, and now when she looked at him, her gaze was focused squarely on his mouth, her own lip pulled beneath her teeth, as though she was trying to physically restrain herself. Just like he was. Except, he was doing a terrible job of it. The hands that were holding her hips were practically melting off his arms, from the heat she was generating.
His fingers began to move, just as hers were, stroking her flesh beneath the water so he heard her sharp intake of breath, and understood it. Understood what she was feeling, the currents she was navigating, because he was feeling exactly the same.
“Elodie,” he said again. Her eyes flared to his, her expression pensive.
“I know,” she said, unevenly. “This is stupid.”
He held his breath, his whole body tense. “What exactly?”
“This,” she whispered. And a second later, she was kissing him, her mouth wet from the pool, her lips demanding, insistent, and utterly heavenly. He could no longer even remember the reasons for thinking he should stop what they were doing; he abandoned himself completely, and it was quite possibly the best feeling of his life.
CHAPTER 12
HIS SIZE WAS ALMOST the first thing she’d noticed about him and she noticed it again now, as her body pushed against his in the water and he held her so easily, his broad chest, his big hands, the strength and virility in just his kiss. She noticed it as she moved her body, kicking her legs up and then wrapping them around his waist, groaning as it brought them so close to each other, her sex against his arousal, her body melded to hisalmostas she needed it to be.
She heard his muttered curse, too, swallowed it in her mouth as her kiss grew more frantic, more urgent and demanding, and then, without her fully realizing it, he was walking, through the water, towards the steps, placing her down on one so his body could lean over hers as he kissed her, dominating her in a way that made her pulse go crazy.
“Raf,” she groaned, his name a plea, just as it had been the night they’d made love. She was begging for him again, needing this with every bone in her body. To hell with what came next, this felt like a consideration of life and death.
His hands at her hips moved to her back, running upwards then hitching at her bra, unfastening it swiftly and pulling the wet fabric from her body, discarding it on the pool coping totheir side. Her breasts spilled out, the water’s surface rippling against them, the sensation of that tilting her into a zone of sheer madness. But it was nothing compared to the way his mouth felt as it dragged down her chin, to her throat, and then to a nipple, sucking it in so hard and fast she saw stars. Her whole body exploded as though she were a firework, bursting into the sky, a shooting stream of light and heat.
“Raf!” She cried his name into the night, not caring who heard, not caring for anything but this. Out here, it was all so elemental and raw. She couldn’t think. It was as though she’d been born for this moment, and nothing mattered more than fulfilling that destiny. He moved his mouth to her other breast, but his hands came to take its place, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then palming her entire flesh, holding its weight in his hands, tormenting her with a cacophony of sensations.
She arched her back, elbows propping her on one step, whole body a livewire of his creation. Then Raf was moving, his hands running lower, to the band of her underpants. “Are you sure,cara?” he asked, and she could barely even process what he was saying at first. “Tell me to stop, if you’re not.”
