52
Isavor the bubbles that tickle across my tongue from the champagne. It makes me recall that night at the Starlight, the sour taste of the strawberry wine. The sweet taste of Rafe’s mouth rough against mine. Thinking about Rafe must magically conjure him because I look up to see his masked emerald eyes staring at me from across the room. I do a double take, doubting for a moment that he’s real.
Rafe is transformed, wearing a black tuxedo with his normally unruly hair slicked away from his face. He is clean-shaven, his usual stubble removed to reveal a sharp, angled jaw. He’s breathtaking…and he shouldn’t be here. Not yet anyway. With a false smile for Stewart, I ask him to hold my glass while I use the restroom. I snake my way through the crowd, searching the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Nothing.
Rafe has disappeared.
In the hallway that leads to the bathroom, I almost shriek when a cold-fingered hand grabs my arm and pulls me into an open bedroom. Rafe kicks the door closed. We’re locked away, alone together. His presence fills the room, menacing and sexy all rolled into one.
“What are you doing here?” I ask breathlessly, followed immediately by, “Is Shelly okay?” I look behind him at the empty room, almost expecting to see her there. “You aren’t supposed to get here until midnight.”
Rafe sits down on the edge of the bed, leaving me awkwardly standing above him. He leans back on his elbows, eyes lazily roving over me. “You look pretty tonight.”
“Rafe,” I warn, wanting answers.
A devilish smile curls one corner of his mouth. “Shelly’s still coming at midnight.”
“But what are you doing here?” I sit down on the bed next to him, keeping a distance. I don’t want to be distracted right now. Not with so much at stake.
Rafe sits up straight, matching my posture. “I was invited at the last minute.” Seeing my glare of annoyance, he explains. “Just got here. Didn’t have time to tell you in advance.” He stares at me, carefully considering his next words. “You know my work?”
I nod silently.
“The main dealer Johnny the Shark uses had an unexpected…complication and couldn’t make it to the party. They brought me here instead. I’ll supply the partygoers with everything they need. Don’t be fooled. There’s a lot more than just alcohol flowing tonight.” Rafe clasps his hands loosely in his lap, completely relaxed.
I regard him suspiciously. “What complication?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, he says, “An anonymous tip made the police take him into custody. He should get out in, oh…three to five years.” Again, the devil’s grin.
Johnny isn’t the only shark at this party tonight. Apparently, I’m a minnow swimming in a sea of them.
“I was going to be here later, anyway. Better to come early so I can keep an eye on you.” His voice is low and husky, sending a thrill through me. Rafe slides closer to me on the bed. His proximity sparks a fire that burns quickly through my body. He runs a finger lightly down my bare arm. Goosebumps rise, marking the trail of his touch. His eyes glitter like diamonds in the moonlight that shines through the window. I shiver, hot and cold all at once.
“How do I look? Like I fit in? Like I belong?” he asks like it’s a game of truth or dare and I picked truth.
I take in his black tuxedo jacket and note the way it hugs the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms. Shelly was right. He must be working out more, or maybe he’s growing. I forget we’re still young sometimes. He graduated last year, so he must be what? Nineteen now? I recently turned 18. Both of us are old enough to be tried as adults if we get caught, a most terrifying thought.
“You look so…different,” I answer honestly. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
Rafe’s finger stops its caress, its owner displeased by my response. “Yeah, well, gotta fit in. You know, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, isn’t that what they say?” He stands up from the bed and moves to gaze out the window, his stiff back to me.
I’ve hurt his feelings somehow, but I’m not sure what he wanted to hear. Struggling to regain his attention, I say, “You look nice, very handsome.” It doesn’t matter now. The moment is gone. His eyes are shuttered when he walks back from the window. Whatever light had glowed in them a moment ago has been snuffed out.
“Do you have it?” Rafe asks flatly.
Flushed, feeling rejected, I dig Stewart’s keycard out of my pocket and hand it over. Faster than my eyes can follow, he makes it disappear.
“Better get back out there before he misses you.” Rafe doesn’t bother to say who “he” is. We both know. I go to the door and twist the knob. As I peer out to make sure the coast is clear, he whispers in my ear, “Stick to the plan.” My body involuntarily shudders at the feeling of his warm breath on the back of my neck. He moves quietly, a cat on soft fur paws. I hadn’t realized he was so close. Rafe’s burning hand is on the small of my back as he gently pushes me out into the hallway. The soft click of the door tells me that he’s closed it, locking himself in the room, away from me.