Our Little Secret Rachael Stewart (best novels to read in english .TXT) 📖

I mean, it’s not... It wasn’t...’

And fuck me, I’m rambling! I can work a conference centre of hundreds without getting flustered but a one-on-one with Rafael Perez has me floored.

Great maid of honour I’m going to make if I can’t remain close to the bride’s brother without losing my cool. And, to make it worse, he’s laughing. His rich brown eyes positively dance in the morning sun now, flecks of honey-gold shining through, all warm and amused.

‘This isn’t funny.’

‘I didn’t say it was.’

‘You’re laughing at me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’ I resist the urge to poke him in the chest as I know one single press of my finger against that hot, naked skin and I won’t be able to stop my palm moving in next. ‘I can see it in your face.’

He crosses his arms and his biceps bulge—eyes up, Faye!

‘I’m sorry.’ He purses his lips, swallows. ‘I confess to finding your bluster...endearing.’

Endearing. I scan his face. As in sexy-endearing, cute-endearing, silly-endearing? I want to ask. My ego begs me to ask. But that’s not what I need to talk to him about.

‘Stop distracting me.’

‘Distracting you?’ His lips twitch at the corners; his body quivers.

‘You’re laughing again.’

‘I didn’t make a sound.’

‘Your insides are laughing.’

Now he bellows with it, an almighty chuckle that has him looking ten years younger, no sign of the serious, severe Raf-like behaviour I’ve been forewarned of and... And he’s bloody well laughing at you, Faye.

‘Okay, I surrender, I am laughing.’

‘It’s not acceptable.’

‘Which bit?’

‘All of it. The laughing, the distracting, the not telling me who you were last night.’

‘In my defence, last night I was a little distracted.’

I drag in a flustered breath. ‘You were distracted?’

‘You were naked.’

‘You were naked.’

‘You were naked first.’

‘Oh, my God.’ I shake my head, waving a frantic hand around me. ‘I can’t even believe we’re arguing about this.’

‘I prefer to call it a debate.’

‘A what?’ I stare up at him, wide-eyed and I know I truly must be flushing scarlet, but inside I’m torn between wanting to jump his bones, put him in his place over not fessing up over his identity sooner and running the other way before I do anything that has the power to detract from Dani’s special week.

‘A debate. I don’t argue.’

He’s so resolute, I frown. ‘You never argue?’

‘Never.’

My frown deepens. ‘Never ever?’

He chuckles. ‘Never ever. It’s a waste of breath. And as for the debates, I always win in the end.’

His smile is so cocksure that it bolsters me, giving me the mental slap I need. ‘Is that so?’

It’s a rhetorical question. I know he means it; I can read it in his stance. Even half-naked he has an air of authority, a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that speaks of many years at the top, of being the boss of his domain.

And I’m not about to feed that mammoth ego.

I fist my hands on my hips and focus on what I’m really here for.

‘Well, Mr I’m-Always-Right, we have an issue that needs fixing—so if you’re done with your morning exercise, and our debate, we have your mother to sort.’

‘My mother?’

He curses under his breath and I know I have his attention now. The right attention. The kind of attention that keeps us clear of the teasing and the flirting so that Dani can enjoy herself without worrying about her mother.

‘I’m going to need a shower for this.’

I swallow, or gulp, rather. Why does my mind have to project the image of him under the jets, all soaped up?

‘Yes, you shower, and I’ll... I’ll...’

‘Come to my room. Top of the stairs, turn left, last door on your right. Ten minutes.’

‘Your room?’ He’s already moving off and I stare after him. He can’t be serious.

‘Ten minutes.’ He looks back at me just long enough to add, ‘Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be dressed appropriately by then.’

I don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning as he walks away now. And I shouldn’t be smiling too. But I am. I press a hand over the excited thrum in my lower belly and curse my body for misbehaving.

Ten minutes. I have ten minutes to get this under control.

And then, to his room. Just him and me.

To discuss his mother, Faye.

Yes, just a discussion, nothing more. Nothing more at all...

CHAPTER FOUR

SI, I INVITED her to my room.

Si, I’m asking for trouble.

Si, it’s hardly discreet, but I did it anyway.

And do I regret it?

Diavolo, no.

Never mind the elevated heart rate from pounding the trail for a good ninety minutes, just seeing her again has it falling over itself.

It seems that coming face to face with a blushing Faye in a top-to-toe dress, an insipid yellow of all colours, is just as powerful as seeing her naked. Or maybe it’s that I’ve seen her naked, that I know what the dress hides, that has me overheating again and losing all good sense.

Maybe if we’d actually gone through with something, gained some release, this would be under control now. I curse my noble streak, the one that had me confessing my relationship to Dani and putting an end to anything happening last night. I can’t forget how she looked while propositioning me, her voice all sultry and soft.

I’m kind of a lady in need—a damsel in distress, if you like—and you’re my perfect fantasy.

Screw fantasy, I want to make it a reality. And I will. Just as soon as she gets my mother off her chest.

We’d be perfect together in bed. I know because I’ve tasted her, felt her responsive body pressed against mine, felt it tremble with a need as powerful as my own. All from a kiss. A kiss that was far too short and far too teasing with it.

One solitary kiss.

I hit the shower, turn it to cold and grit my teeth as the icy shards pummel me. I need to moderate this. Get it under control. But it seems even the chill can’t dampen my desire. And it’s madness. She’s just another woman. A woman I should be able to shut