We were alone in our own little world as Rafe drew the cover back from the hot tub and turned on the jets. He stripped his shorts down his legs without preamble, stepping into the hot tub entirely naked and relaxing against the back of it as he closed his eyes. Opening them and glancing at me out of the corner, he crooked a finger for me to join him.
"Don't you ever get tired of being in the water?" I teased in reference to our expedition the day before and the way he'd traumatized me.
"The water is part of life on an island," he said, watching with darkening eyes as I shoved my shorts down my legs and tugged my shirt over my head. Making the walk toward the hot tub with his eyes on my body would have terrified me only a few days prior, but there wasn't a corner of my body he hadn't explored.
His tour of the Ibiza he loved involved a bunch of tours of his body, unsurprisingly. It wouldn't even surprise me if he thought he was the highlight of Ibiza.
He was mine.
I lifted a leg to step into the tub, gasping when Rafe's hands shot out from the water and he caught my calf in his grip. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the scar on my thigh, trailing his lips down over the edge of my knee and down my calf. His eyes never left mine, the green and blue shock of his gaze staring up at me as he released me and let me take that first step into the hot tub.
Rafe's eyes on me felt like dancing with the devil, his touch like the greatest temptation toward sin.
I lowered myself into the hot tub in front of him, sighing as the scalding water surrounded me, and then leaned my back into his chest as he enveloped me in his arms. His mouth touched the top of my head, drawing in a deep sigh as the same contentment I felt washed over him. Nothing mattered when I was in his arms.
Not the way he'd scared me the day before. Not the fact that I'd have to say goodbye in four days.
It didn't matter that I'd go home to a life I no longer recognized and go about my business as if the glimpse of a life he'd shown me hadn't changed me forever.
There was only his touch. His heat at my back. His brand on my skin.
I laid my head back on his chest, closing my eyes with a contented sigh as I exhaled all the tension in my body and let everything else drift away. When I opened them, the stars and moon above stared down at me, reminding me of the invitation that had brought me to him.
I'd danced with the devil in the moonlight.
And I'd fallen in love with the man underneath the monster who hovered just beneath the surface.
Tears stung my eyes with the realization and the knowledge that I loved him in spite of knowing it was foolish. That it was beyond foolish and downright stupid. It would end in heartache for me, and a return to emptiness that I wasn't sure I could bear anymore.
"When I was little," Rafe murmured softly, "my mother used to sneak me outside at night to stare at the stars. I remember trying to count them." My body locked, afraid to move as he volunteered information about himself. I'd never felt like he would speak to me, like he was even remotely accessible in that way.
All his hints of something dark in his life and his history kept me from trying to pry too deep. He was right when he told me I might not be ready for the answers to those questions.
I'd never tried to Google him since he caught me and warned me away from it.
"That might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard," I said finally when he didn't continue. Even if the admission had been small, the fact that he’d volunteered it of his own free will made my cheeks turn even warmer than they already were from the hot tub. It had been everything I wanted from him in that moment, and everything I shouldn't have gotten.
Knowing he cared enough to share even the smallest part of him would make it that much harder for me to walk away.
"I know it was pointless now, of course. Even if it had been possible to count the stars in the sky, what purpose would it serve?" he asked with a sigh. "But knowing that there isn't a purpose doesn't stop me from knowing you have nineteen freckles across the bridge of your nose and on your cheeks." My heart froze in my chest, furiously trying to count my freckles in my memory. In all my life, I'd never thought to put a number to the dots on my skin.
But he'd done it in days.
The significance of such a number stripped me of breath as his arms tightened around me. "I'll never stop wanting to know everything about you," he murmured, the words feeling like a promise despite the timer on our relationship.
"You counted my freckles," I whispered as my breath returned.
"You have one here," he said, reaching around to touch a spot on my chest that he couldn't see. "And here," he moved his hand down to the left of my belly button and just a little lower. Through the water, I stared at the exact spot when he dragged his hand away.
A freckle stared back at me, tiny and hardly noticeable.
"Everything, Isa," he murmured.
The words sounded like a threat as he maneuvered his way further inside my heart and showed me every mark on my skin, but I couldn't shake the feeling that for the first time in my life, someone saw me.
It couldn't have been normal for him to spend such effort on someone who would leave in four days, so that left me with one question. Did Rafe think we were something else?
Would he let me go home when the time came? Or would he drag me to the pits of Hell?
Music pulsed through my veins as we walked through the dimly lit club. The soft purple and gold lighting with decorations through the bar space screamed of luxury. The music was more upscale than I'd expected of a nightclub in Ibiza.
I had no experience with going to nightclubs, but all the photos I’d seen before the trip made it seem like a massive party.
Excitement filled me at the prospect of seeing my friends, knowing that, while not everything was resolved between Rafe and me in terms of defining our relationship or the remote possibility of a pregnancy, at least I could put on a happy face for my friends and make them believe that everything was okay. I regretted telling Chloe about what Rafe had done at the waterfall and the way he’d made me feel.
Rafe wasn’t perfect, but the fact that he’d counted my freckles went a long way toward convincing me he didn’t mean to harm me. Maybe if I worked hard enough to convince them, I'd be able to shake off the last hints of fear of what Rafe might do when I tried to go home, that built with every day that passed. He couldn't possibly intend for me to walk away from my life for a man I hardly knew.
For a man who would threaten to chase me if I walked away from him.
There was something seriously wrong with me that I'd fallen in love with him in such a short time period, with everything working against us and the warning signs staring me in the face. I’d never been in love or even had the desire to fall in love before him, and yet he stormed into my heart as if there was never anything in his way. No matter what Rafe did or who he was when I wasn't looking, I couldn't shake the feeling that he would never hurt me.
That I was special to him in some way, and separate from whatever business consumed him and needed to be kept secret from me.
I knew when I went home, I'd finally work up the courage to Google his name. I'd probably learn more about him from the internet than I ever would from his own mouth.
Rafael led me to the terrace at the back of the club, finding my friends waiting for us outside. Hugo stood from his seat on one of the odd, round stools next to a table, making Chloe turn her attention to us. Her eyes widened briefly before she smiled, trailing her eyes down my body encased in the dress Rafe had supplied me with for the club. I didn't own anything remotely dressy, and somehow I doubted sundresses would be an appropriate attire for the evening.
Hugo looked so odd in his dress shirt and trousers, somehow older than the boy I'd spent over a year hanging out with. "This is such a nice club. Thank you for getting us in," Chloe said, turning her gaze to Rafe. He wore a suit, his jacket undone over his black dress shirt, making it so that he swam in a sea of onyx. From his dark hair, to the stubble
on his face, to his clothes and shoes. The only color he offered was deep olive skin and bright mismatched eyes.
"It was no trouble at all. Owning a club does have its perks at times," Rafe returned, giving a tiny smile in response to Chloe's words. His arrogance seeped through as she pursed her lips to keep her shock from showing.
"You own this?" I asked, watching as Hugo took his seat and Rafael led me to the white sofa on the other side of the table with a hand at the small of my back. I sat down carefully, wishing he'd chosen a longer dress. The visibility of my scar set me on edge, something that I'd never really experienced aside from with Chloe or my family.
Even Hugo had never seen it, though I'd known that would change when we came to Ibiza. Wearing a bathing suit tended to do that.
Hugo's eyes narrowed in on the thin wrap of white flesh across my leg, tilting his head in thought as he turned an odd look in Rafe's direction with his brow raised in question. Rafe ignored him, settling as close to me as possible and wrapping an arm around me. "Yes," he confirmed.
"It's incredible," I said, glancing up at the starry sky above us. The music was softer outside, less of a mind-numbing vibration and closer to something soothing. People still danced between the rows of tables and on the long walkway through the back terrace, moving their bodies seductively and swaying to the smooth rhythm.
"Thank you," he murmured, taking the end of my hair in his grip and toying with it where it touched my waist. A server came over, taking our drink orders before she moved on and hurried back into the club. I imagined, being the owner, Rafe would expect to be served immediately.
"How does a man as young as you come to own the hottest club in Ibiza?" Chloe asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously on Rafe. He withdrew slightly, and I watched as he smiled through whatever distaste he had for Chloe's question. But the stiffness of his body told me he didn't like her inquiry.
If Rafe would hunt me down if I left him, I had to wonder for a moment if I should worry for Chloe. She was tenacious when she wanted to know something, and she'd stop at nothing to get the answers if she felt something was wrong.
I couldn't imagine she hadn't already looked Rafe up, and I questioned why she hadn't told me what she found earlier in the day. But I still didn't want to know.
"Investments mostly," Rafe answered finally. "I have a very broad understanding of the markets and what will do well at any given time. It allows me to make lump sums of cash that I then reinvest into property investments frequently."
"Hmm," Chloe hummed, turning her eyes to mine. "That's not what Google says." Hugo elbowed her in the side, glaring at her as if he'd warned her ahead of time not to have this conversation. Hugo was far more aware of how I would feel if things went south unnecessarily because of Chloe's prying.
I guessed he just wasn't aware that she was probably close to accurate in whatever she hinted at.
"Google will say a lot of things about me, I'm sure," Rafe said. "Worse than high school gossip, and by the time Ibiza news gets on the internet it's much like a game of telephone. Exaggerated and dramatic for no reason other than seeking higher ratings." I hoped his words were true. That he'd stopped me from looking him up because he didn't want our relationship to be influenced by lies that were totally irrelevant to our relationship.
Our drinks were delivered in the moment of silence that followed, and I quickly grabbed my sangria off the table to take a sip of the fruity concoction. Chloe followed suit, though she twirled her straw around more thoughtfully.
"Come dance with me beneath the moonlight," Rafe said, running his nose over my jawline as he taunted me with words so similar to the ones that had brought us together in the first place. I nodded, setting down my glass, and accepted the hand he extended to help me stand up as I tugged the tight white and silver dress further down my thighs. He guided me around the edge of the table and to the small space where couples danced near us, raising a hand over my head to spin me into his arms so that he could wrap himself around my back as I laughed.
His hands slid down to my hips, guiding them to move with his as I tried to find that place where I was comfortable moving in such a way with him again. It was easier the second time around, with him knowing my body so intimately that he understood how to make me move. Once I'd found our rhythm together, he grabbed my arms in his hands and lifted them over my head to rest on his shoulder. His huge palms trailed down over the sensitive skin of my arms, caressing over the sides of my breasts and then coasting over my stomach delicately until they settled on my hips once again and encouraged me to roll them in a circle against him.
I was too short compared to his height for it to be as indecent as it might have otherwise, but the motion still reminded me of the way he’d encouraged me to move when I was on top of him and he was inside me.
Hugo and Chloe stepped up beside us. Chloe sighed as she held hands with Hugo, moving to the beat despite the distance between them. Taking in my smiling face, she shook her head and smiled before losing herself to the beat of the music.
With her settled and entertained for the moment, I wound my body around until I faced Rafe and stared up at him as I touched my hands to his chest. He stared down at me as intensely as he had that first night we met, but a better awareness lurked within his gaze.
There wasn't a corner of my body he hadn't touched or explored, down to the number of freckles on my body. So, when I moved my hips in what I thought might be more seductive, I didn't pause to consider what he might think of me.
If I might look like an idiot. I'd never see any of the people at the club again, anyway.
Rafe smiled down at me indulgently, his body smooth and languid as he danced. He was often too serious, often caught in the trance of whatever darkness lurked inside him, but when he danced his body became soft and fluid. Taken by the music, he moved with me as if the end game was for me to be in his bed.
Even if that was already a given.
He glanced over my shoulder, his body going still so suddenly that I stumbled in my hurry to stop dancing and spin around. A man I'd never seen before held Rafael's eyes, his face so expressionless that it seemed unnatural. "Rafe?" I asked, turning back to stare at him as he took my hand in his grip and turned to Hugo.
"We have to go," he barked, pulling me away before I could even say goodbye to Hugo and Chloe. She looked around confused as Hugo tried to calm her down. We ducked through the club quickly, the sound of an engine revving outside as a car pulled up to the curb quickly as if it had been commanded.
I didn't recognize the person in the driver's seat as Rafe opened the passenger side back door and shoved me in. "Rafe!" I yelled when he made no move to get in with me.
"Take her back to the hotel," he ordered the other man, making me look between them in confusion. Rafe pressed his key card into my palm, closing the door quickly as I rolled down the window.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"This isn't chess," he said oddly. "In my world, the King always protects his Queen." I gaped up at him in shock, wincing when he tapped the roof of the car and the blacked-out window glided up between us. The driver hit the gas, peeling away from the curb quickly as I turned to watch out the back window as Rafe strode back into the club with his hands clenched into fists.
What in the actual fuck?
23
Rafael
Hugo and Chloe were gone by the time I shoved my way through the back doors of Lotus. I charged through the crowd as my eyes tracked around the room for the Russian bastard I'd seen in my club.
If Chloe had seen what was about to go down, I'd have to handle her. As it was, I made a mental note to tell Hugo to keep her from contacting Isa after tonight. I'd do my part to prevent them speaking to one another, and if Hugo did his, Isa would have no idea that she might have just seen her best friend for the last time.
At least if she didn't decide to stay, and thanks to fucking Pavel, everything was unraveling faster than I could control it. I'd kill him for that alone
.
When my eyes landed on the Russian with the hand tattoos, shaved head, and conspicuously missing pinky, I snapped my attention to him fully and walked in his direction slowly. Giving him every opportunity to realize just how monumentally he'd fucked up by stepping foot in my club in the first place, after I’d clearly told him what would happen if I ever saw him again.
He smirked at me as I approached him, fear hovering just behind the false bravado, but whatever protection Pavel had promised him made him brave. Whatever had happened after he went crawling back to Pavel with a missing finger, he somehow thought I was the lesser evil than disobeying his boss.
A single jab to the throat disabused him of that notion, sending him reeling backwards as I grabbed him by the back of his shirt while he sputtered for breath. I carted him back inside the club and into the back rooms. One of my staff was kind enough to haul the basement door open, and I used the opportunity to throw him down the steps. I could barely hear the thump of his body as it hit each and every step over the pulsing music, and I almost wanted it to go away so that I could hear his screams more clearly later on.
But there were too many people around to hear him cry and the music would cover the sound. I owned the police, but I still didn't need the headache that would come with explaining why I'd exposed hundreds of patrons to the seedy underbelly of Ibiza.
I adjusted my suit jacket, glancing to the staff member and nodding for him to close the door behind me before I descended the steps. Darkness greeted me, welcoming me home with waiting arms as it surrounded my very being. The overhead light kicked on as I stepped down the final stairs, crackling to life with age and lack of use.
Years had passed since I'd needed to make use of this particular basement, not since I'd stopped doing my father's dirty work and taking fingers for unpaid debts had stopped being a common practice for me.
I had other people do that for me now, if the debt was large enough.
Until Tomorrow Comes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Beauty in Lies Book 1) Page 20
