Modern Romance September 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
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both precious and small, as Rafael carried her easily up the stairs and then down the hall to the master bedroom.
He put her down gently, steadying her as she swayed against him. The room was dark, moonlight spilling through the latticed shutters over the window, and they stood there for a moment, silent, breathing, his hands on her arms.
Allegra couldn’t see the expression on his face but she felt the emotion thrum through him as he tightened his grip on her shoulders.
‘Are you sure?’
Everything so far had been a resounding and overwhelming yes, and yet still he asked. Allegra placed one hand on his cheek, her thumb smoothing the line of his jaw, learning him, letting him know how sure she was. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘Yes.’
He didn’t ask again. He simply pulled her towards him, his smile gleaming whitely in the dark, and then her clothes fell away; she kicked off her pyjama shorts as Rafael slid her T-shirt over her head.
His breath hissed between his teeth as he looked at her, and Allegra didn’t feel self-conscious or big with her belly on display. She didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed. Under the heat of his gaze she felt only beautiful.
His hands followed his hot gaze, smoothing over her dips and curves, learning the feel of her with slow, thorough deliberation. She shivered under his touch, his fingers sending sparks along her skin, and then she grew bold enough to touch him, hands flat upon his chest, fingers spreading and seeking the sculpted ridges of his muscles.
‘I like that,’ Rafael whispered. He remained still under her questing fingers, and with shaking hands she slipped the first shirt button from its hole, and then another and another, until his chest was bare and she was pushing his shirt off his bronzed shoulders, revelling in his body, satiny skin over hard muscle. She hadn’t touched him very much that first night. She’d been too overwhelmed by it all, both the pleasure and the grief. Now she revelled in the hot, silky feel of him, running her hand across his chest, down to his abdomen, fingertips brushing the waistband of his trousers.
Rafael let out a groan and Allegra laughed softly, amazed at how she was able to affect him. Now she felt powerful as well as beautiful.
‘You were beautiful before,’ he murmured as he reached for her, hands cupping her breasts, thumbs sliding across their aching peaks. ‘And you are even more beautiful now, carrying my child.’
‘You make me feel beautiful,’ Allegra whispered, and then he was bending his head and Allegra slid her fingers through his hair as his lips sought and found her, causing a lightning bolt of pleasure to blaze deep down inside.
He scooped her up again—she felt boneless, weightless—and carried her to the bed. Deposited her on top of the duvet, the silk cover slithering and sliding underneath her. He shucked off his trousers and boxers, leaving her breathless. She’d seen him naked before but the sight still overwhelmed and undid her. He lay next to her and drew her into his arms, their bodies bumping and touching in all sorts of places, making her shudder. It felt so much. She’d known it would; it was why she’d resisted this before, because the intensity felt exquisite and painful at the same time, and she had to brace herself for the tidal wave, to keep herself from falling, drowning.
She’d been telling herself he wouldn’t feel the same way, that sex wasn’t as important or sacred for him, but in that moment as his fingers touched her face and his body arced into hers she believed it was. He couldn’t touch her like this, give of himself like this, without it meaning something. She felt it in his kiss, in his gentle hands, in the love he lavished on her body, finding and plundering all of her secret places.
And then—yes, finally—he was inside her, so big and right she gasped out loud and he lifted his head, his gaze blazing down into hers. ‘Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you?’
She clasped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into herself, accepting him fully, feeling complete. ‘I’m all right,’ she said. ‘I’m...’ But she had no words, because the feelings were coming faster and stronger now, wave after wave as Rafael began to move and Allegra matched his rhythm, reaching, reaching...
And finding. Finally, gloriously finding, her body shuddering with the force of her climax, Rafael’s face buried in her neck as he murmured words of endearment and promise, their bodies intertwined in every way possible. How could you be this close to another human being, Allegra wondered, and not fall in love?
She tensed, though, as their heart rates slowed and Rafael, who had been bracing himself above her so as not to press against her bump, rolled onto his back. The sudden whoosh of cool air on her heated skin felt like an unwelcome wake-up call.
What now?
She waited, barely daring to breathe, afraid of this moment and what had it had meant before. Would he dismiss her from his bed? Leave her here alone? Then Rafael reached out one arm and hooked it around her shoulders, drawing her against him so her bump was pressed against his side, her knees snugging into the backs of his thighs. Allegra expelled a silent sigh of relief. It was going to be okay. More than okay.
Gently Rafael caressed her bump, his palm curving around the taut roundness of her belly. He laughed softly as their baby kicked.
‘I guess something woke him up.’ A smile in his voice, in her heart.
‘I guess something did,’ she answered, and wrapped her arm around his chest.
HE COULD SMELL THE BLOOD. Sharp, metallic. He didn’t recognise it, though, didn’t understand as he pushed the now broken splintered door open with his fingertips and took a step inside the room.
‘Papa?’
His voice was soft, scared, the voice of a child even though he was sixteen years old.
‘Papa...’
He saw his father’s hands first, slack, hanging down, fingers dangling. Then the drops of blood on the desk, a delicate spray, making him think ink had spilled. As if anyone used ink any more, let alone a bottle of bright red. And then his gaze moved upwards and he saw his father’s shattered face. Heard a scream rip from his throat—except it wasn’t his scream, it was his mother’s; she stood behind him, hands raised to her blood-drained face, and the awful unholy sound went on and on.
‘Rafael... Rafael!’
The hand shaking his shoulder woke him up; he came out of the dream like a bullet from a gun, the screaming still echoing in his ears. Next to him Allegra’s face was as pale as his mother’s had been, pale and frightened.
‘Rafael...’ she whispered, and he shook off her hand, roughly, and saw her flinch. Hated himself, but he couldn’t keep from doing it, from turning away. He swung his legs out of his bed and strode to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
In the mirror his face was pale, his forehead beaded with icy sweat. Bile churned in his stomach and he thought he might be sick. Thankfully he swallowed it down, bracing his hands on the pedestal sink as he lowered his head and took several steadying breaths.
He hadn’t had that dream in years. A decade, even. He hadn’t let himself, had closed that part of his mind right off. Don’t think of it, because if you did you’d be lost, lost for ever, no coming back. He knew that. Knew if he remembered how he’d begged, begged his father... You couldn’t go back from that. You couldn’t recover, and so he refused to think of it.
Except, he acknowledged as he looked at his pale reflection in the mirror, he thought of it all the time. Not consciously, but it remained, a canker inside him, destroying everything good. Allegra had asked how her father could leave her, if he’d loved her. Rafael knew the answer to that in his own case times a thousand.
Because he didn’t love me. Because I couldn’t keep him from destroying himself. Because it’s all my fault.
He’d seen how his