watching his muscles jump.
She had selected him for her retinue because he was an excellent drummer, and she had sensed that he would play the role of her slave. But he could reverse the roles. If she wanted, he could bring her the pain that she sometimes craved.
oOo
“I have a queen-sized bed. It will be big enough for both of us.”
Rafe stared at her, wondering how much sleep he was going to get.
“I’ll put out a towel and washcloth for you.”
“Okay,” he answered, hearing the thickened quality of his voice.
So much had changed since he’d last seen Eugenia Beaumont.
He’d left New Orleans and made a good life for himself, and he’d told himself a million times that he was better off without a woman who would never understand the problems of a working stiff. He’d thought it was true—until he’d seen Eugenia looking just as beautiful and desirable as he remembered. And seen the life she’d chosen for herself—a life that included a lot of hard work and sacrifice.
She could still be married to that rich guy, living in a fancy house with expensive furnishings, and spending her time playing golf and being on charity committees. Instead she was doing everything she could to make her restaurant a success. He could see that she wasn’t spending much on furnishing her apartment, although he loved the effect she’d created.
The restaurant location was another clue to the state of her finances. It was at the extreme edge of the French Quarter, beyond the French Market. Not exactly the best part of town. No wonder two of her patrons had been mugged. Or was that connected with this current case? Was Villars’ death an attack on Eugenia?
His mind returned to the kiss that should never have happened. He could have taken it a lot further and made love with her, but he’d done the right thing and stopped before they’d gone too far. Too bad he was still in her apartment and headed for her bed.
Chapter Six
Rafe used the bathroom, then walked slowly into the bedroom. Eugenia was already in bed, way over to the far side, and he wondered if he could really lie next to her and get any sleep.
Determined to keep things professional, he eased onto the mattress beside her. He longed to reach for her, but he contented himself with slowly sliding his arm over until the backs of their hands touched.
Immediately he wanted more. How far could he push this? Probably all the way. But then he’d be where he’d been when he’d broken off the kiss.
Still, as he drifted off, he let a little fantasy curl through his brain. A fantasy in which she turned to him in her sleep, and they ended up a tangle of bodies in the morning.
oOo
Sometime before sunrise Eugenia slept—then woke to sensations she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
She was lying on her side, pressed against a very hard male body. An aroused male body, she realized.
When she heard Rafe swallow hard, she knew he’d figured out she was awake.
Through a screen of lashes, she saw that he was looking at her, his eyes bright and his skin slightly flushed. He said nothing, but one of his hands slid down her body, tracing the indentation of her waist, then cupping her hips and pulling her more tightly against himself.
She made a small sound that might have started as a protest, although she wasn’t absolutely sure. She should move away. Too bad her body didn’t seem to be in sync with good sense.
Closing her eyes again, she lowered her head to Rafe’s shoulder, pressing her face against the soft fabric of his tee shirt, feeling his hot skin beneath.
She had started doing intimate things with Rafe Gascon when she’d been sixteen. And the only reason they’d stopped was that he’d left town. They’d never been in a bedroom together. But they’d brought an old mattress up to the loft in the garage—where they’d spent a lot of quality hours together, always alert to someone’s discovering their clandestine meeting place. That was kid stuff. Now
She had selected him for her retinue because he was an excellent drummer, and she had sensed that he would play the role of her slave. But he could reverse the roles. If she wanted, he could bring her the pain that she sometimes craved.
oOo
“I have a queen-sized bed. It will be big enough for both of us.”
Rafe stared at her, wondering how much sleep he was going to get.
“I’ll put out a towel and washcloth for you.”
“Okay,” he answered, hearing the thickened quality of his voice.
So much had changed since he’d last seen Eugenia Beaumont.
He’d left New Orleans and made a good life for himself, and he’d told himself a million times that he was better off without a woman who would never understand the problems of a working stiff. He’d thought it was true—until he’d seen Eugenia looking just as beautiful and desirable as he remembered. And seen the life she’d chosen for herself—a life that included a lot of hard work and sacrifice.
She could still be married to that rich guy, living in a fancy house with expensive furnishings, and spending her time playing golf and being on charity committees. Instead she was doing everything she could to make her restaurant a success. He could see that she wasn’t spending much on furnishing her apartment, although he loved the effect she’d created.
The restaurant location was another clue to the state of her finances. It was at the extreme edge of the French Quarter, beyond the French Market. Not exactly the best part of town. No wonder two of her patrons had been mugged. Or was that connected with this current case? Was Villars’ death an attack on Eugenia?
His mind returned to the kiss that should never have happened. He could have taken it a lot further and made love with her, but he’d done the right thing and stopped before they’d gone too far. Too bad he was still in her apartment and headed for her bed.
Chapter Six
Rafe used the bathroom, then walked slowly into the bedroom. Eugenia was already in bed, way over to the far side, and he wondered if he could really lie next to her and get any sleep.
Determined to keep things professional, he eased onto the mattress beside her. He longed to reach for her, but he contented himself with slowly sliding his arm over until the backs of their hands touched.
Immediately he wanted more. How far could he push this? Probably all the way. But then he’d be where he’d been when he’d broken off the kiss.
Still, as he drifted off, he let a little fantasy curl through his brain. A fantasy in which she turned to him in her sleep, and they ended up a tangle of bodies in the morning.
oOo
Sometime before sunrise Eugenia slept—then woke to sensations she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
She was lying on her side, pressed against a very hard male body. An aroused male body, she realized.
When she heard Rafe swallow hard, she knew he’d figured out she was awake.
Through a screen of lashes, she saw that he was looking at her, his eyes bright and his skin slightly flushed. He said nothing, but one of his hands slid down her body, tracing the indentation of her waist, then cupping her hips and pulling her more tightly against himself.
She made a small sound that might have started as a protest, although she wasn’t absolutely sure. She should move away. Too bad her body didn’t seem to be in sync with good sense.
Closing her eyes again, she lowered her head to Rafe’s shoulder, pressing her face against the soft fabric of his tee shirt, feeling his hot skin beneath.
She had started doing intimate things with Rafe Gascon when she’d been sixteen. And the only reason they’d stopped was that he’d left town. They’d never been in a bedroom together. But they’d brought an old mattress up to the loft in the garage—where they’d spent a lot of quality hours together, always alert to someone’s discovering their clandestine meeting place. That was kid stuff. Now
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