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Once the jet had reached flying altitude, Rafe had encouraged Cat to take him up on his offer of using the bed. She’d protested at first, insisting she was fine, but he gently nudged her—twice. After she dozed off and her head ended up on his shoulder—yet again, twice.
So she’d wandered back into the small but comfortable bedroom and promptly fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. Only to wake up what felt like days later to a warm, solid presence in the bed beside her.
Her eyes flew open and she sat up straight, gazing in disbelief at Rafe stretched out beside her. He lay on top of the thin comforter, his shoes still on, lying on his stomach, his head propped on his arm, facing her. His handsome face was covered in dark stubble, his lips were parted, hair and clothes rumpled, and he looked…
Delicious.
She sat cross-legged on the bed and studied him unabashedly. Could she imagine waking up with him every morning? Would he be an attentive, loving husband? Or would he eventually grow tired of her? Bored and restless, turning into the neglectful husband she not so secretly feared he could morph into?
Her low expectations of Rafe were probably unfair, what with her not even giving him a chance to prove himself, but she didn’t want to take that risk. It always came back to her parents’ marriage, to the way Rafe has behaved these last few years. She was scared. Marriage to Rafe frightened her. Not that she was afraid of him, not at all. She knew he wasn’t a violent man or anything of that nature.
But she was afraid of what he might do to her without knowing he was doing it. How he could neglect her. Destroy her. That was what had pushed her to end their engagement.
Yet here she sat with him on a private jet, sharing a bed, studying him, trying to come up with a way that she could jump him…
No. No jumping Rafael Renaldi allowed. No matter how difficult he was to resist.
“Are you finished checking me out?”
His deep, sexy voice knocked her from her reverie, and she shook her head, laughing softly. “You caught me.”
“You barely move on this tiny bed and I feel it. I couldn’t help but wake up.” He cracked open his eyes, their dark brown depths locked directly on her. “Sleep well?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Do you mind that I joined you? I was exhausted. Was afraid I’d fall out of my seat if I didn’t lie down.”
“Not at all.” She nibbled on her lower lip, still studying him. She wished she was bold enough to lean down and kiss him. What would he do? How would he react? “Rafe, where will we be staying in New York?”
“I have an apartment.”
“Do you have a guest room?” She sounded like such a ninny, but she had to know. She’d been almost afraid—and tempted—that they might end up in a hotel room. Together. Alone. With one bed and they’d have no choice but to share it.
“Of course. And you’re welcome to stay in it.” He smiled, looking rather…cute, lying there smiling up at her.
“Do you live in Manhattan?”
“I do.” He sat up, his leg brushing against hers, and her skin heated at first contact. The bed was so small, they were bound to touch each other. The moment felt rather…intimate. Close.
Perhaps too close.
“I’ve been there before, but it was years ago,” she said, tearing her gaze away from him to stare out the small window that was just to the left of his head. “I think the plane is starting to make its descent.”
“The pilot will announce when that’s about to happen. He’ll ask us to head back to our seats with plenty of warning time.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more, and the urge to smooth his hair out, comb through those silky strands with her fingers, was so strong she had to clench her hands into fists to restrain herself.
