SLAMMINGTHERANCH-HOUSEdoor behind them, he turned and lifted Rose. She sprang up and wrapped her legs around his waist in the same instant. A few swift adjustments later, and they were joined. Relief overwhelmed him.
‘More—Now—Harder,’ Rose gasped as she clung to him.
He couldn’t speak. His energies were employed elsewhere.
After their first noisy release, he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. They were both laughing with relief as he lowered her on to the bed. ‘What are you waiting for?’ Rose asked.
‘I’m drinking you in,’ he admitted as he stared into emerald eyes bright with fire and laughter.
‘Don’t take too long,’ she warned. ‘Remember, we’ve got a meeting to go to.’
‘Practical to the last. Before you say it, I know what you’re going to say—that’s why I hired you.’
Stripping off his clothes while Rose did the same, he pulled her into his arms on the bed. ‘Did you take a shave this morning?’ she asked, cupping his face in her hands. ‘I could file my nails on that stubble.’
‘You like it.’ Statement, not question.
‘You know I like it. I like you.’
‘Only like me?’
‘Do you deserve more than a like?’ She gasped as he took her firmly and deeply. ‘You most definitely do.’
‘So?’ he queried with amusement.
‘So, don’t you dare stop. Remember the meeting. Time’s short.’
‘Less time for speaking, then.’ He smiled, loving Rose’s nerve and her courage, and the fresh wildflower scent that was so unmistakeably hers.
‘Whatever happens now, or in the future,’ she told him when they were quiet again, ‘I want you to know how I feel. I love you,’ she said plainly, ‘and that won’t change, whatever you think of me. I hope my telling you this doesn’t change anything?’
It changed everything. The look on Rose’s face, the concern and the warmth, and the love, tinged with anxiety, touched something deep inside him. Reaching for her, he brought her close. Turned out, that was entirely the wrong thing to do.
‘Don’t pat me like your bloody pony!’ she exclaimed, yanking herself free. ‘I don’t want your reassurance only for you to push me away in a few hours’ time. I’ve told you how I feel about you. At least have the good manners to let me know how you feel about me.’
Rose sprang up. He did too. Passion ran high between them, as usual. There was never a time when Rose backed off. That was one of the things he admired most about her, but she seemed additionally driven today.
‘Tell me,’ she insisted fiercely. ‘If I have the courage to lay my heart on the line, don’t you think you should too? If you don’t want me, you only have to say.’
‘Of course I want you—’ Only now did he realise quite how much. But what could he offer her? A heart of stone? A driven life? Constant travel? No respite? None of the simple things Rose longed for, like a family of her own. Bringing her into his arms, he kissed her and, to his unbounded relief, Rose kissed him back.
‘Kiss me like you never want to let me go,’ she whispered against his mouth.
He should be saving her from a man who, by his own admission, was incapable of giving Rose what she really needed, but instead he kissed her until no barrier on earth could keep them apart.
They fell back together on the bed, embracing as passionately as if they’d just invented sex. ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Raffa admitted hoarsely. ‘I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone.’
‘I missed you too,’ Rose confessed, arching her back in ecstasy as he took her again.
This time their lovemaking was slow and tender and deep. Raffa stared intently into her eyes as he took her with as much care as if she were made of the rice paper she’d teased him about.
‘Don’t wait for me,’ he whispered. ‘This is all for you.’
She rode the waves until they subsided, and then lay nestled in his arms, waiting for a sign from Raffa that she wasn’t wasting her time loving him as much as she did. Could a man who’d made love to her as he just had feel nothing for her? He found words difficult, she reasoned. Rose had always been upfront with words and actions, but not everyone was the same. Each touch, breath and gentle consideration Raffa had shown for her pleasure had to mean something, didn’t it?
She hated feeling so vulnerable, but being with Raffa had stripped her soul bare. Feeling more emotional than usual, as if there really was far more at stake, she remembered the pregnancy test in her bag. ‘It’s nearly time for the meeting. We should go—’ Grabbing a throw, she headed for the bathroom with her bag. No doubt she appeared purposeful, but she was crying inside. Whatever the test showed, Raffa had been given every chance to tell her that he loved her, and he’d let that chance go.
Rose excused herself from the meeting early, looking pale. When she returned, Raffa noticed the change in her right away. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked as soon as their colleagues had left them. ‘Rose?’
