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you.’ Dropping it into her bag, she slipped inside and turned to face him.

      He was standing so close that she could feel the warmth of his body and his breath stirring her hair.

      She glanced up.

      His mouth was only inches away. Just the thought of it touching hers again sent shivers down her spine and brought her out in goose-pimples.

      She backed a step. ‘And thank you for a very nice evening. I’ve had a lovely time.’

      ‘I’m pleased you’ve enjoyed it.’ Then, as though it was all settled, ‘I thought we’d go to Annabel’s tomorrow evening

      She hesitated, knowing full well she should stop this thing in its tracks but wanting desperately to see him again.

      Looking into her face, seeing her waver, he added firmly, ‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’

      Though common sense told her she was being a fool, she agreed, ‘All right.’

      When he lifted a quizzical brow at her lack of enthusiasm, her voice unsteady, she added, ‘I’ll look forward to it…Well, goodnight.’

      He tilted his head to one side, a gesture she was coming to know. ‘Rafe?’

      ‘Rafe,’ she echoed obediently. It was the first time she had used his name.

      ‘Goodnight, Madeleine. Sleep well.’

      ‘Goodnight,’ she said again.

      He didn’t turn away as she had expected. Instead he stood quite motionless, watching her.

      She knew she should step back and close the door, but, fascinated by the unnerving stillness that generated so much sexual tension, she was still rooted to the spot when he bent and kissed her.

      This time his mouth was not only sweet, but also familiar. His arms went around her, and he drew her close. His kiss was firm and masterful and when he sought to deepen it her lips parted as though there was no help for it.

      The last obstacle removed, his mouth began to move against hers in a sizzling kiss that melted her last defences as easily as a blowtorch melted butter.

      He tasted like ambrosia. Her stomach clenched and her heart began to race wildly, while desire dried her throat and ran like red-hot lava through her bloodstream.

      She was no longer capable of thinking straight when, a few seconds later, he freed her mouth and, his voice husky, murmured, ‘You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to feel your naked body against mine, to make love to you…’

      Looking up into his shadowy face, she knew she ought to send him away. But she couldn’t.

      ‘Is that what you want?’ he murmured.

      She nodded silently and, her breathing shallow and ragged, waited impatiently while he went to pay off the taxi.

      He came back and, taking her chin in his hand, lifted her face and began to kiss her again, kisses sweeter than wine, as he eased them inside and closed the door.

      In the gloom, he continued to kiss her while he removed the clasp that held her hair. She heard his little murmur of satisfaction as the silky mass tumbled around her shoulders and he ran his fingers through it.

      Then his hands slipped to the warmth of her nape and began to travel over her, tracing her shoulders, her ribcage, her slender waist, the flare of her hips and the curve of her firm buttocks.

      ‘I’ve never met a women I wanted so much,’ he murmured against her lips.

      His touch was all she had ever hoped for or needed, and above his softly spoken words she could hear his heart beating. Or was it her own?

      Caught up in a whirl of sensual delight, on a flight to the stars, she was hearing things, tasting things, feeling things that she had never heard or tasted or felt before.

      While he continued to kiss her he unbuttoned her blouse and, unhooking the fastening of her bra, slipped one hand inside. Her breast fitted neatly into his palm. Enjoying the warm weight of it, he brushed his thumb over the velvety nipple and felt it firm beneath his touch. Shudders of pleasure running through her, she gasped deep in her throat. Hearing that muffled sound and interpreting it correctly, he bent his head to take the other nipple in his mouth and suckle until her whole body was on fire with longing.

      When she could stand no more she pushed him away and, taking his hand, urged him towards the bedroom.

      As the door closed behind them, the small voice of reason warned her that she was acting completely out of character. Acting like a fool.

      But, having jumped into the deep end, she was in over her head and unwilling to be saved. Brushing reason aside, she moved to close the slatted window blind and shut out the night.

      Turning to him, she saw the gleam of his eyes in the semidarkness before he switched on the bedside lamp, flooding that part of the room in amber light.

      On the dressing table close by was a framed snapshot of a smiling, fair-haired man.

      Reaching out, Rafe picked it up and, his voice a little wary, asked, ‘Is this your husband?’

      She answered distractedly, ‘Oh, no, that’s Noel. He’s out in the Middle East. In the oil fields.’

      ‘An ex-lover?’

      ‘A friend.’

      Rafe replaced the photograph with care, and turned to gaze at her.

      She had expected him to skip over the preliminaries and hurry her into bed, but with no suggestion of haste he said softly, ‘I want to look at you. Take off your clothes for me.’

      As though under a spell, she began to take off her suit and blouse. But modesty once ingrained was hard to dislodge, and, aware as she was of his appreciative gaze, the lick of flame in his eyes, her cheeks were hot as she stripped off her panties.

      When she straightened and stood before him naked, he made a half-smothered sound deep in his throat, a very male sound, and without taking his eyes off her for an instant began to divest himself of his own shoes and clothing.

      As she watched him discard his dark silk boxer shorts, it was her turn to smother the gasp that rose in her throat. Too turned on to move, she swallowed hard, her stomach tightening with anticipation.

      ‘Come here,’ he said.

      When she obeyed, he lifted her onto the bed and stretched out beside her. Then, propping himself on one elbow, he leaned over her and, his hand fondling her breast, he said softly, ‘You’re exquisite. The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.’

      Colin had been an unexciting lover, with a low sex drive and little skill. Not only had he preferred to make love in the dark, but also he had never told her she was beautiful, nor had he caressed her in that way.

      Rather, he had avoided touching her, as though he found the idea of enjoying sex something to be slightly ashamed of.

      Rafe obviously had no such inhibitions.

      Inhaling the fragrance of her skin, he murmured, ‘You smell as fresh and delightful as apple blossom,’ before his mouth began to roam over her.

      She shivered deliciously as his unshaven jaw rasped against the smooth skin of her flat stomach.

      When he had kissed and tasted every inch of her golden flesh, his mouth returned to pleasure her breasts while his fingers found the nest of pale, silky curls and began to explore further. Shivering, she gave herself up to the sensations those skilful fingers were engendering.

      It wasn’t long, however, before the exquisite torment grew too much to bear and she writhed under the lash of pleasure while desire rode her, digging in its spurs so that she began to make little whimpering sounds deep in her throat.

      He paused, then, drawing her back against him, spoonfashion, he eased her hips towards him before returning his hands

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