total lack of inhibition. And when her body began to tighten with the now familiar shimmerings of orgasm, his hands anchored her so that he went deeper still until she gasped out loud, in Greek.
* * *
She must have drifted off to sleep because when she opened her eyes, it was to find that Rafe had covered them with a blanket and his naked body was pressed against her bare back. For a moment she just revelled in the feel of his warm flesh next to hers and the way he’d slung his arm over her hips, so that his fingertips rested carelessly in the cluster of curls at her thighs. She remembered the things he’d told her about his past. The way he’d unburdened himself. Did it mean something that he’d chosen to confide in her, or was she in danger of reading too much into the situation? No matter. The future could wait. Lying there together like that was just about perfect and as she stirred a little she could feel his hand automatically begin to drift downwards, when there was a loud banging at the bedroom door.
‘Rafe?’ It was Nick’s voice.
‘Go away,’ Rafe mumbled, his breath warm against the back of her neck.
‘I need to speak to you. Now.’
Cursing a little beneath his breath, Rafe got to his feet and pulled on a pair of jeans, still doing up the zip as he walked over and opened the door, behind which his half-brother was standing. He didn’t invite him in and Sophie couldn’t hear what was being said—only the low murmur of their voices before Rafe quietly closed the door and came back into the room.
She looked up into his face, but if she’d been hoping for some new kind of openness after the things they’d talked about, then she’d been way off mark because his features were as dark and as unreadable as ever. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘You could say that.’ His voice sounded grim. ‘My brother’s had a phone call from the landlord of the local pub. The snow has started to melt and a man and woman have checked in. He thinks they may be journalists.’
She sat up, clutching onto the blanket. ‘How—?’
He shrugged. ‘I suspect Sharla let them know you’re here—inadvertently or not, I don’t know. The question is how we deal with it.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘There’s only one way to deal with it and I can’t keep avoiding it for ever. There’s no point in me trying to concoct another life—it won’t make any difference. And maybe it’s time to stop running.’ She clutched the blanket a little tighter to her breasts. ‘To let Myron know I’m a grown-up now and can make my own decisions. To tell him that I need to forge a new future for myself.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘And do you know what that future will be?’
‘Not yet. I’d just hoped...’
‘Hoped what?’ he questioned as her words tailed away.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. After my fairly successful stab at independence, it’s a pity I have to return being pursued by the press. I’d hoped to make a more...controlled arrival.’
‘Unless you refuse to play ball,’ he said slowly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why should the damned press back you into a corner?’ he demanded. ‘Why go back earlier than originally planned?’
‘That was pretty much on the cards the minute you returned unexpectedly to Poonbarra. I don’t really have any alternative, Rafe. I can’t stay here. And I can’t face the thought of turning up somewhere else just before Christmas, with a load of news-hungry journalists on my tail.’
There was a pause. ‘Unless you came to New York with me for Christmas.’
Sophie tried to squash the leap of hope in her heart as she met his shadowed gaze. ‘But you must have plans?’
‘None I can’t get out of. The only thing set in stone is my Boxing Day ski trip to Vermont. But New York is the most anonymous city in the world and I can have my PR people make sure nobody bothers you.’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, even though she was filled with an excitement she was trying very hard to contain.
‘The city is beautiful during the holidays,’ he continued softly. ‘And I think there’s a lot more sex we need to have before I’m willing to let you go. I’m not offering you a home, Sophie—as long as you understand that. Just a temporary shelter.’
Her smile didn’t falter, even though the baldness of his statement left her in no doubt of his feelings for her. But surely it was better to know exactly where she stood. And he was offering her a solution, wasn’t he? Practical help in the form of a Christmas break in a city she’d never visited, rather than a scandal-wrapped return to her island home. There was no contest, really.
‘I’d like that,’ she said.
‘Good. In that case, I’ll have my jet prepared.’ His eyes gleamed as he unzipped his jeans and started walking towards her. ‘And in the meantime...why don’t you lose the blanket?’
THIS HIGH UP, the snowy winter light was on the harsher side of bright. A penthouse apartment high in the sky—far above the streets and away from the sounds of the New York traffic. Chosen specifically for its isolation and for the fact that nobody could see you, or hear you. An apartment Rafe had never shared with anyone.
Until now.
He stared at Sophie’s back, silhouetted against the Manhattan skyline as she watched the ant-like people far below. His home, his space, his life. A fortress of a place which up until now had always been inviolate. People came here rarely because hospitality on home turf had never been his thing. He preferred to take people out to dinner, rather than be stuck with guests who wouldn’t take the hint and go home. The same with lovers, too. Not for him the awkward morning ritual of trying to remove a woman who wanted to stay.
Why had he invited Sophie here? He ran his gaze over the gleam of her bare legs. Because he felt partly responsible for the arrival of the press in the Cotswolds? Yes. And the sexual chemistry between them had been an added incentive. Why turn his back on a physical compatibility which was as good as theirs? But it was more than that. He’d confided in her. Told her stuff he’d never told anyone else. Stuff which had stirred up feelings inside him which had left a raw and gaping void. He’d thought exposing his secrets would make the darkness go away, but he had been wrong. He told himself he just needed time. And that maybe having Sophie here with him was nothing but an insurance policy. A charm offensive to get her onside and make sure she kept those secrets close to her heart.
He acknowledged another stir of lust as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. This morning she was wearing one of his shirts which came to just below her bottom as she surveyed the cityscape. One hand was planted on her hips as she watched the snow tumbling towards the city streets. It was a pose designed to show off her long legs to their best advantage—something he suspected she knew very well, despite her relative inexperience. But she was a fast learner, he thought approvingly. She’d learnt to remove her clothes and tantalise him better than any of those high-class strippers he knew rich out-of-towners visited down on Midtown West.
His groin
