She nodded slowly, still staring at him.
Her heart sped up again, and she parted her lips. His mouth was so perfect, so close, inches away from her own. She tilted her head ever-so-slightly and leaned toward him without meaning to, the tiniest little bit. Then her eyelids fluttered as if ready to close the moment his lips touched hers. As if in slow motion, she could feel the minimal distance between them closing. Closer and closer, his nose almost nudging hers, his breath ragged in the dark.
“I should let you get some sleep,” he said, pulling away.
Grace tensed.How fucking mortifying.She cleared her throat. “Yes, you too. I mean, you should get some sleep.”
He nodded and untangled himself from her before rising from the bed. He shuffled backwards but stopped in the doorway and made eye contact with her again. Grace was grateful for the darkness, which she hoped would hide her flushed, tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes. If she was really lucky, it might also hide her accidental desire and complete embarrassment. She had a faded birthmark on her forehead that only seemed to show itself when she was angry or devastated, but she imagined her flaws were safe in the shadows, hidden from his gaze.
“I—uh,” Rafael started.
Grace held her breath. What was he going to say?I would absolutely never kiss you? I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea, I’m just nice to sobbing women on occasion? I certainly pity you, but I’m not attracted to you?
The silence stretched across the room, filling the space between them. Grace refused to break it; she didn’t know if she could find words. Maybe he hadn’t noticed how primed she was for him to go to town on her mouth. Maybe he didn’t realize anything weird had happened at all.
She would go with that. Nothing weird to see here, just a sad girl losing her shit in her dreams, only to get all horny the second a hot dude lays a hand on her. No worries.
“Goodnight,” Rafael said at last. It felt like ten minutes had gone by, even if it had only been a matter of seconds. Her face felt so hot, and she actually could have gone for that glass of water; she was probably dehydrated, but she would have to deal with it on her own when he was gone—when he wasn’t just standing there, unmoving, his gorgeous figure hovering in the doorway in a way that was totally going to haunt her sexual fantasies. Except in her fantasies, he wouldn’t have pulled away.
“Goodnight. Thanks for—” She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Thanks for waking me up from a terrible nightmare and pressing me into your body? She shrugged. “You know. Goodnight.”
He gave an almost imperceptible nod and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and Grace fell back against her pillow with a sigh.Shit.That hadn’t been her best moment, but she was still holding onto the hope he hadn’t noticed. Maybe that was naïve, but a girl could pretend, and if they never spoke of it again, she would go right on pretending. She resolved not to make a fool of herself again…at least for a few days. She was going to do some research about Sacromonte and its history, and she was going to come up with brilliant ideas to help him. She would impress him for real, not just with one stupid wall in the middle of the room, but with a whole host of knowledge and ideas for the underground exhibit. And she would keep it so professional, it would be clear she wasn’t thinking about kissing him. This was a business relationship. And maybe a weird roommate situation. And maybe also some kind of friendship. But it was not romantic.
She just needed to keep repeating that to herself over and over again.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Hadshe wanted him to kiss her? Rafael stood over his bed, unable to lie down. It seemed possible she was expecting a kiss, but he couldn’t be sure. It had been too dark to fully comprehend her facial expressions, but hopefully that meant it was also too dark for her to see his erection, and he’d tried very hard to hide that merciless betrayal of a bulge as he backed out of the room. Grace was upset, and it obviously wasn’t the time for that kind of thing, but for a moment there it had seemed like that kind of thing wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome.
Rafael put both hands on his head. He couldn’t help it if this whole forbidden attraction scenario got him going. It would have been so easy to give into it, to lean in and let his lips touch hers, to find some quick relief for his wanting.
Butno.He’d made a promise to himself not to try to kiss her again. He could just see it now—an exact repeat of what happened last time—her shock and hesitation, her confusion, the way she jerked away as if he was trying to bite her. Well, okay, he wanted to bite her. But in aniceway.
Once again, he imagined how easy this would be if she was just a random woman off the street. One night together, and he would be cured. This whole thing would be over and done with and he could get back to work without thinking of the way she twisted the little end of her braid between her fingers and without staring at her like a ravenous fool every time she walked into the room. He pressed his hand against the tent of his sweatpants and rolled his eyes. All she’d done waslookat him, and his cock was acting like she’d been whispering filthy nothings in his ear. How had it all escalated so quickly?
He blew out a breath. He needed to get a handle on himself. Actually, handling himself sounded like the best possible solution for the moment, so he would indulge that instinct. He’d let himself think about her while he did it. But tomorrow was another day, and tomorrow, he was going to stop lusting after Grace Cameron.
The next day, Christian’s mood was buoyant from the moment Rafael strolled into the cave at Sacromonte. "Look around, my friend! We're in business!"
If business meant that the cave was littered with tons of paintings, many of them still safely tucked into special boxes filled with foam and packing materials, then yes, they were in business.
“That was fast.”
“Wee hours of the morning,” Christian explained in Spanish. “Trying to avoid any traffic or prying eyes on the road. We’ll have another shipment in a couple of days, and the art handlers will work to get them into position when they’re all acclimated and ready to hang.”
Rafael almost laughed remembering when Christian had said the two of them could handle most of the exhibit, and now there were art handlers in white gloves rushing around in a frenzy. He was happy to have them there, though. Seeing the large crates everywhere didn’t exactly bring Rafael any comfort since he had no idea what the hell to do with them, but he was relieved he’d missed out on helping to haul them in. His certainty that he would trip over a stone and send a priceless Picasso tumbling down the side of the cliff made him a bit paranoid.
“Speaking of prying eyes,” Christian began, and Rafael froze. He’d been dreading this—a private conversation where Christian would tease him about this thing with Grace. It was embarrassing enough that a client had witnessed his ridiculous infatuation, even worse would be to mull it over with them afterward. But Christian surprised him. “There’s a travel journalist that’s been sniffing around, asking questions about what we’re doing here. She says she loves this area and heard that we were up to something, and she might be interested in writing a piece about it. I’m counting on you to nip that in the bud.”
“You don’t want her to write about the exhibition?”
“And spoil all my secrets? Of course not! I told her you would meet with her, tell her about some of your other projects. I was hoping you might be able to distract her with some other exciting public event, and we can keep her from digging around here.”
Rafael thought for a moment. He supposed he could come up with something to talk about. Something that might make a good post on a travel blog.
“Do you want me to reach out to her?”
“No need. You’re having dinner with her tonight. She might bring her fiancé.”
