‘Good night then,’ he said, marching towards the sofa.
‘Good night,’ she replied. ‘Pleasant dreams.’
She could have sworn he had stopped, stiffened, partially turned, and then had had second thoughts and continued on his way.
When she had reopened the bedroom door to seek his help, she saw he had removed his jacket and tie and, having pulled it free from his trousers, was unbuttoning his shirt.
‘The zip?’ he had said huskily. ‘Of course.’
They had walked towards one another, stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, and then she had forced herself to turn away to give him access to the zip.
She had stood far too close to him – or he had stood far too close to her; she wasn’t sure which – and his warm breath on her neck and shoulders had sent her senses spiralling.
And then, as if that wasn’t enough for her defences to cope with, he had needed to hold the layer of tulle on the outside of the dress, tightly with one hand, while he slid the fingers of his other hand inside to ease the satin and the zip away from the tulle.
His agile fingers moved deftly against her flesh and as she yielded to the sensation, a low, soft moan escaped her, and her head tilted back just a fraction.
He seemed to freeze momentarily, and then, slowly and deliberately, as if he wanted, or needed, to take his time, he eased the zip down, inch by inch, breathing deeply and increasingly rapidly as Kate leaned back closer to his firm body.
Now, with the zip undone, he traced his fingers up her bare skin and slid his hand onto her shoulder and the wide strap of her dress.
‘Kate?’ His voice was husky and uncertain as she turned her head towards him and his own head lowered towards hers until their mouths were almost touching. ‘I … We’ve had a lot to drink. Are you sure you want this?’
It was like a cold shower on the fire he’d ignited within her.
Her eyes shot open, her body stiffened, and her self-control kicked in.
‘Thank you for the zip,’ she said, her own voice shaking with emotion and she hurried away as gracefully as her pent-up desire would allow.
Raff didn’t say a word but as she closed the bedroom door her surreptitious glance revealed he stood there, open mouthed, his arms hanging limply by his sides.
Her second mistake was opening the bedroom door yet again just two minutes later.
‘You said I could borrow a sh… shirt.’
His shirt was now on the back of the armchair near the sofa and his bare torso took her breath away. For a man of fifty-eight, his body was H-O-T. Scorchingly so.
Kate involuntarily sucked her own tummy in, pushing her chest higher as her eyes took in his six-pack, the smattering of salt and pepper hairs on his chest and his hands on the half open zip of his trousers.
‘Wh-what?’ he said, hastily pulling the zip back up.
‘Erm... A shirt. You said I could borrow a shirt.’
‘Yes. I did.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Erm. Please help yourself.’
Taking his comment as dismissive, Kate’s hackles rose, as did her voice.
‘Fine. I shall. I just thought I should ask in case there was one you had planned to wear tomorrow.’
‘What? I … let me find you one.’
He strode to the bedroom and she stepped aside to let him pass. Yet his shoulder skimmed hers as he walked into the room and just that brief touch sent quivers through her body.
He yanked the wardrobe door open, grabbed one of the five or so shirts from its hanger and tossed it on the bed.
‘There,’ he said, marching towards the door.
‘Good night!’ she snapped, as their eyes met briefly.
