CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rafe
I WAKE UP to sunlight warming my skin. I breathe in deeply, my body heavy. I can’t remember the last time I slept so deeply. But I also can’t remember the last time I made love four times in one night.
Thinking about the last time, when Tessa got on her hands and knees and allowed me to hold her hips up with my hands as I drove myself inside her, has me hardening almost instantly.
I reach out for her. My fingers cross nothing but cool silk sheets. My eyes fly open. The room is empty.
Slowly, I sit up. This is good. A show of Tessa keeping what’s happening between us physically separate from any emotional developments.
It’s a good thing, I repeat to myself. A knock has me standing and pulling on a robe before I go to the door and open it. Tessa is right outside the door in her wheelchair, a silver tray balanced across her lap. She’s wearing a plain yellow sundress, her hair damp and falling over one shoulder. She gives me a shy smile, one that arrows straight into my chest.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. I thought you might like some breakfast.”
I glance down at the tray. “You brought me breakfast?”
She shrugs. “It’s the least I could do after last night.”
I stand back and let her past, slightly amused that I’m being served breakfast by the woman who I thoroughly seduced multiple times over the course of the evening.
She moves to the table on the balcony and I take the tray from her, setting it down and pulling up lids on dishes of eggs, bacon, and Greek yogurt topped with honey and plump strawberries.
“Thank you.” I glance outside and note the sun has barely cleared the horizon. Another glance at the clock in my room has my eyebrows raising. “How long have you been awake?”
“An hour or so. I had a lot of work to do,” she adds lightly.
I sense the slight distance between us, the deliberate establishing of a barrier as I sit down across from her. Even though it’s a good thing, part of me wants to talk to her, get a sense of how she’s feeling after our night together. But I have no desire to make her first morning after making love a tense one. Especially when my questioning after our first round of lovemaking made her relive a painful moment.
I mentally curse Lucifer. He had been furious ever since he’d learned of my proposal to Tessa and realized I had done what he had failed to do for years—acquire Tessa’s family’s company. Yes, it had been a smart acquisition. But besting my sire had been a satisfying revenge after decades of torment.
A revenge I’ve now realized hurt someone who didn’t deserve any of the pain I inflicted with my carelessness. Another sign that, despite my growing affection for my wife, I’m not the right man for her.
I mentally shift my focus away from the ghosts of my past and concentrate on something I excel at.
“Later today, I can take a look at your business plan.”
“Thank you.” She murmurs the words without looking up.
“Something on your mind?”
She stirs a dollop of honey into her yogurt. “I was thinking about going out this morning and didn’t know if you’d like to join me.”
My brief flash of pleasure disappears as quickly as it reared its head. The idea is tempting. No conference calls, no proposals to review, no site visits. A morning to enjoy the company of my wife.
Just the fact that I want to is a red flag that I need to step back. That I’m at risk of feeling more than I should.
“Unfortunately, I can’t. I have an hour or so to look over your plan.” I keep my voice even, businesslike. “After that I have a conference call, and our flight to Corfu departs at noon.
Her face falls before her expression smooths out. I know I’ve made the right decision. I need to maintain distance. Even if I feel like a bastard for hurting her. Again.
We finish the rest of the breakfast in silence.
Tessa
I walk out onto the dock of Rafe’s villa, excitement pumping through me as I take in the speedboat tied up at the end.
“Good morning!” a man calls to me from aboard the boat.
“Good morning,” I call back. “Are you Emerson?”
“Yes. Tessa?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
When I woke yesterday morning in the circle of Rafe’s arms, my body sated and my soul content, a different kind of desire hit me. I suddenly wanted what I had been resisting ever since Rafe agreed to my proposal; the slow, rambling road to intimacy. I didn’t just want to spend the next few days in bed.
Well, I amend with a small smile as I near the boat, I do. But I also wanted to spend time with my husband. To get to know the man I shared far more in common with than I realized. Someone who was hurting, living with the guilt of his past.
My smile vanishes as I remember how quickly he retreated from me. It’s only been a day, but he’s kept his distance, from sitting on the opposite side of the plane on our flight back to Corfu to spending the night alone in his room at the villa.
It hurt. I poured myself into work, spending most of yesterday afternoon and evening jumping back and forth between Juliette’s home and the farmhouse.
But this morning when I got up and rolled out onto the balcony, saw the calmness of the ocean, I could suddenly think of nothing else but slipping beneath the waves.
I glance once more over my shoulder. The villa is stark white against the vivid blue sky. My eyes wander over the balconies, the portico.
Nothing.
My stomach sinks. The woman I was six months ago would never have dared to ask Rafe to spend a morning with me. She certainly wouldn’t have pushed past the first rejection to try again. But I did, texting him shortly after I booked my dive. He never responded.
I turn my back on the villa and focus on Emerson, on the boat gently bobbing on the surface of the sea and the familiar sight of scuba diving gear on deck. Excitement fills me.
“Just the one dive?”
“Yes. I haven’t been diving since I got certified other than practicing in a pool, and I can tire easily.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.” Emerson steps up onto the bow and extends his hand. “If we set out now—”
“Tessa.”
I freeze. Then, slowly, I turn, lightness filling my body until I feel like I could fly as I watch my husband walk onto the dock.
“You came.”
The blank mask slips, giving me a glimpse of the inner battle he’s fighting as his eyes dart between Emerson and me. “I did.”
I want to go to him then, wrap my arms around him and kiss him. Something a wife would do when her husband accepts an invitation.
A real wife, I remind myself. I inhale deeply to calm the tingling sensation in my chest.
“Rafe, this is Emerson. He’s a divemaster based out of Corfu.”
Rafe nods to Emerson. His fingers curl into fists, then flex outward as his gaze locks on to the boat. “One of my meetings was unexpectedly canceled.”
My smile dims almost as quickly as it appears. “I told Emerson you weren’t coming, so I don’t know if there’s any gear for you on board.”
“Actually,” Emerson says, “you called just as I was leaving, so I left all the gear on board. I didn’t want to be late.”
Rafe looks back at me. His gaze softens as one corner of his mouth curves up. “Let’s go diving.”
Twenty minutes later, the boat is anchored and Emerson is double-checking our equipment.
“We’re good to go.”
Emerson helps me sit on the back of the boat and get my legs in the water before going to grab his own gear. Rafe stands next to me, his wetsuit clinging to his muscular physique as he eyes the water.
“It’s going to be worth it. I promise.”
“Definitely different from the budget meeting I had planned.”
I snort. “This sounds way more fun than a budget.”
“That’s just because you haven’t sat through a rousing experience with our head of accounting.” He stops, then crouches down next to me, keeping his gaze on the horizon. “Why did you invite me?”
I nearly brush it off with some careless remark. But then I remember Rafe opening up to me in Athens, sharing his painful past. My resolution to remain invulnerable to my husband no longer seems like a show of strength but of weakness. One where instead of taking risks, I’m once again pursing the safe route.
“I’ve dived once since I got certified with Katie. This is my first ocean dive.” Butterflies flap wildly in my stomach as the boat rocks. “I wanted to share it with you.”
He tenses next to me. “Why?”
I hesitate. “Because it felt right.”
Before Rafe can reply, Emerson reappears. He gives us a couple of instructions before he steps into the water, sending up a plume of spray as he submerges. He surfaces a moment later and smiles.
“Ready whenever you are.”
I look up at Rafe. “Ready?”
He blinks, almost hesitating as he stares into my eyes. “Yes.”
I pull my mask down, put the regular in my mouth and slip into the water. The sea closes over my head as I sink a couple inches beneath the surface. Rafe jumps into the water next to me. Emerson holds up the okay sign and, at Rafe’s and my nods, gestures for us to start descending.
When I was getting certified, this was one of my favorite parts of the dive. The slow descent, the feeling of weightlessness. Not having to be aware of where I was placing my crutches or if there would be a bump as I navigated my wheelchair. I could simply move with a freedom I hadn’t experienced in decades. An almost magical sensation of flying, swimming above an underwater world few people see.
I splay my arms and legs out as I slowly drift down. We near the bottom. My breath catches as I survey the colorful splendor below me. Stunning coral and a rainbow of colors. Fish darting in and out. A turtle nibbling on strands of sea grass. I glance every now and then at Rafe and Emerson, always making sure they’re within sight. But for the most part, I just swim, enjoying the world around me.
At one point, I see Rafe staring down a seahorse, one that darts within inches of his mask, then back, then forward again. I smile around my regulator. He glances at me and arches a brow behind his mask. But he’s enjoying himself. I can tell as he moves through the water, pausing here and there to watch some creature or examine a bit of coral.
It’s odd, seeing him not only in a place so foreign, but so relaxed, so removed from the hustle and bustle of daily life. Odd and enjoyable.
The dive is over far too quickly. Rafe climbs up onto the boat, shutting his vest and tank before turning to help me onto the back platform. Emerson stays in the water until I’m secure on the boat.
“What did you think?”
Rafe glances at the water. “Enjoyable.”
“Really? You saw fish and turtles and seahorses. And all you have to say is enjoyable.”
“Very enjoyable.”
I smile because I can see how much more relaxed he is, saw how engaged he was as he navigated the ocean floor. A smile he returns, his eyes unexpectedly warm with appreciation.
“You’re a natural.”
Pleasure sweeps through me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I haven’t been diving in years, but even when I dove every week for an entire summer, I never moved with the confidence and grace you did.”
His words fill me as that edge I’ve been trying to avoid ever since he walked back into my life looms right in front of me. All those years I pined for Rafe, imagined that he saw me as no one else did, formed the foundation of my feelings for him. A foundation I decided must have been constructed of starstruck youth and desperation.
My eyes grow hot as I look away. Infatuation and inexperience may have played a part. But that feeling that Rafe saw more than most, that he paid attention to the person I was inside?
I was right.
The boat ride back to the villa is far too short. As Emerson docks the boat, I’m faced with a question I’m terrified to answer. Has Rafe ruined me for another man? Will I ever be able to share my body, let alone my heart, with someone else after the past few days?
Days, my brain reminds me as Rafe stands to my side, a hand at my back as I move from the boat to the dock. Think about how he’s acting these past few months. The years you’ve known him. A couple days doesn’t change the fact that you two have very different expectations for your future.
“Thank you.”
I glance up at my husband. “For what”
“Getting me out. Doing something different.”
“You’re welcome.”
Between the sun and the swimming and the emotional wringing I’ve put myself through, I suddenly want nothing more than to get up to my room, rinse off, and then soak in the Jacuzzi tub until lunch.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I hadn’t thought much beyond a shower.”
“What do you say to another boat ride?”
I smile. “As much as I enjoyed diving, I’m not up for another dive trip.”
“Not diving. An afternoon on a yacht.”
“A yacht?” I repeat.
“With who?”
“Me.”
My heart skips the beat. “You know how to sail a yacht?”
“It helps that it’s powered,” Rafe says with a smile.
I want to say yes. Or rather, my heart does. My brain is still screaming for me to step back.
“Why did you change your mind?”
“Because I don’t know how much time we have left,” he finally says.
His admission hits me hard. We’re both thinking the same thing. That after last night, there is no reason left for me to stay. The sense of loss even just thinking about leaving tells me that it is probably time to go.
Just a little more time, my heart whispers. Just a little more.