The Trouble With Coco Monroe

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The Trouble With Coco Monroe Page 8

by CC MacKenzie


  “Like what?”

  Her heart took a leap into her throat.

  “As if I’m the last chocolate chip cookie in the tin.”

  His deep laugh brought a hectic flush to her cheeks.

  “Trust me, doll face. You taste a hell of a lot better than chocolate.”

  Coco waged a heroic battle to keep the wobble from her voice.

  “I’ve had an extremely hectic and stressful day. Why don’t you stop playing games and tell me where we’re going?”

  “Home.”

  “This is not the way to my apartment in the City.”

  His eyes stayed on hers as he shrugged.

  “You’re perfectly correct. I’m taking you to my home.”

  For a moment she thought she’d misheard, it took a couple of deep breaths for her to find her equilibrium.

  “Are you kidnapping me, Rafael?” Her voice was deceptively soft.

  If he thought for one millisecond she was going anywhere with him, the man was certifiable.

  He widened his eyes and sent her a wolfish smile.

  “Not at all. We can talk uninterrupted and I can ensure your safety.”

  Coco blinked as an idea occurred to her.

  Rafe was the type of man who always needed to win.

  And he wasn’t a man who was used to or would take rejection well.

  Doing her level best to appear sympathetic, she cocked her head.

  “Look, if I hurt your feelings by not returning your calls I sincerely apologise,” she said, not meaning a word of it. “So you can stop messing around and take me home.” She leaned over, patted his knee. “Be a good boy, Rafael.”

  He caught her fingers and looked deep into her eyes.

  His thumb rubbed a slow circle in the palm of her hand, sending scorching signals to every erogenous zone in her body.

  Her heart took a little stumble.

  She couldn’t look away.

  “You kissed me.” His deep voice was so soft it brought her out in goose bumps.

  Those amazing eyes caressed hers.

  Her laugh sounded a tad nervous to her own ears and she wished he would stop looking her like that because it was making her belly quiver.

  She pressed her thighs together.

  Why couldn’t she swallow?

  “No, I remember, you kissed me.”

  Staring at her hand now, he rubbed his thumb along the frantic pulse on her wrist and brought it to his mouth.

  He pressed a soft seductive kiss on the spot and her hormones instantly snapped to attention.

  No, no, no.

  “Every night I dream about the way you came apart in my arms. It was an incredible moment for us,” he murmured.

  His mouth nuzzled her wrist as he inhaled her scent and she almost purred.

  Desperate now, she realised she would be lost if he didn’t stop.

  “No, it meant nothing.”

  Those eyes, dark now and full of desire, held hers for an eternal moment.

  She was drowning in warm, dark treacle.

  He slid closer.

  “You moaned into my mouth,” he reminded her softly.

  She drew back against the door.

  His fingertip scorched a path down her cheek as those eyes, darker than night, held hers.

  “You trembled in my arms. You’re trembling now.”

  Why couldn’t she think?

  “You need to forget it. I have,” she lied through her teeth.

  Those amazing eyes narrowed now, became sharp with intent.

  “Okay, let’s do it again.”

  He yanked her into his arms in a way that had her heart thunder in her ears.

  A remark he made earlier spun into her mind and she pressed unsteady fingers to his mouth.

  “Wait! What did you mean by ensuring my safety?”

  Her voice was too high, too breathy.

  He caught her hand in his then placed a finger under her chin, tipping her head back to study her face.

  She blinked, her eyelashes caught on her bangs and she puffed out a breath to clear it.

  The action made him smile, which made him look so utterly gorgeous she swallowed a desperate whimper.

  “It appears you’ve come to the attention of Sergei Kandinsky.”

  Coco couldn’t help it, she jerked in his arms.

  But wasn’t quite fast enough to stop her wide-eyed gasp of alarm.

  Those dark eyes went too hard and too serious now as they searched her face with an unremitting intensity that made her heart thunder in her ears.

  “Just what the hell have you been up to?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m not staying here.”

  Coco’s face was too pale with dark shadows under her eyes.

  Standing at the entrance to his guest bedroom suite, Rafe kept a tight grip on mounting frustration.

  The exhaustion, the waves of stress coming off her, was the only thing preventing him from throttling her.

  The Russian was dangerous and she was telling him nothing.

  “Start talking! You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Violet eyes flashed into his.

  “You seriously need to drop the macho act. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.”

  Her stubborn chin tipped towards him as she cocked her hip and folded her arms.

  Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe Rafe couldn’t decide whether to kiss her or shake her.

  “Change the record,” he said, annoyed that he’d allowed her to distract him, again.

  Her eyebrows winged under her bangs.

  “What do you think daddy would say if I told him the man he thinks walks on water is trying to get into my panties?”

  She smirked.

  So that was her ace card was it?

  Little did she know her father would be more than delighted at the prospect.

  He tossed the gauntlet right back.

  “Why don’t you call him?”

  Her eyes widened in shocked defeat as she sank to the edge of the bed.

  “I have responsibilities. Things that need my attention,” she told him.

  Do you indeed?

  What are you up to, baby girl?

  “Really? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  Coco bent her head and spent too long studying her amazing shoes. A sexy concoction of leopard skin and black feathers with black satin ribbon tied around her slim ankles. And since he had no trouble visualising her wearing nothing but the shoes, they did wonderful things to his shaft.

  She ran white teeth over her top lip and Rafe blew out a long unsteady breath.

  Again, she gave him another round of the silent treatment before lifting her face to his.

  “Look, my new house is only twenty minutes from here. I promise I’ll tell you everything if you take me home. Please, Rafe.”

  By the stubborn set of that chin he knew he’d get nothing more out of her.

  Compromise, an ability that didn’t come naturally to him, was the only way he would get the information he so desperately needed.

  He turned his back on her and stalked across the landing into his bedroom, into his dressing room, grabbed a suitcase and tossed it onto the bed.

  She followed and stood at the door watching him with wary eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  Piling clothes into the case, he flicked her an impatient look.

  “I’m staying with you.”

  Those blue eyes widened in disbelief.

  “You most certainly are not.”

  He moved fast into her personal space and pressed his nose to hers, thrusting his hands in his pockets to stop himself from grabbing her.

  Christ, she smelt amazing.

  Her lashes caught on her bangs in a way that made him grit his teeth.

  And he didn’t bother to hide the edge to his voice,

  “Since Samson’s on leave - and I put good money on it you’ve got something to do with that - I’m your protection.
Live with it. Stay here with me or I go with you. What’s it going to be?”

  She took a step back.

  See what happened when you try to be a smart ass? Coco berated herself.

  Now what was she going to do?

  The trouble with Rafe was he never gave up until he got what he wanted.

  Their near kiss in the car still had aftershocks of arousal rippling through her system.

  She narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. Having him on her territory, on her terms, might be the very thing. Once he realised she knew what she was doing he would back off.

  She hoped.

  “You can stay in the guest wing,” she told him.

  By his face, she could tell he didn’t like the idea.

  Tough.

  He frowned. “You have a guest wing?”

  “Did you seriously think you’d be sleeping in my bed?”

  The hot flash in his eye warned she was pushing it.

  “If I were you I’d be very careful,” he said softly.

  Taking his advice she took another step back.

  The look in his too dark eyes made her knees weak.

  She recognised possession and a predatory gleam along with something else.

  Ignoring the heat flooding her cheeks, she lifted her chin.

  “I’m surprised your spies haven’t given you the low down on my new project.”

  His endless stare had her heart pounding in her throat.

  Face implacable he moved to the bed and continued packing.

  “Strangely enough you are not the main focus of business at Monroe Industries.” He shot her a dark look. “Unless you’re in trouble.”

  His tone told her he was a man at the end of his tether.

  The thought occurred to her it might be a good idea to throw him a crumb, calm him down a bit.

  “I met Sergei Kandinsky at a charity function,” she admitted.

  No way could she tell him what happened that night or what she’d witnessed since.

  There was no question in her mind that she and Louise had done the right thing.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Rafe gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake.

  Too intense eyes scanned her face, burning a path from her hair to her mouth and then back to her eyes.

  What she saw there caught her breath.

  Oh God, he was absolutely furious with her.

  His deep voice was almost a growl as his fingertips pressed into her shoulders.

  “Have you any idea what kind of man he is?”

  She did know, but her instinct told her that if she said one smart word, she’d tip him over the edge.

  “Yes, but...”

  Dark eyes drilled into hers as he shook her again.

  “But nothing. He’s Russian mafia.”

  At her gasp of alarm, she read a mix of confusion and hurt in his eyes.

  “If he was pestering you, why the hell didn’t you come to me?”

  Her mind went blank.

  The thought simply hadn’t occurred to her, but then another one did.

  He thought Sergei Kandinsky had a personal interest in her?

  She read dismay in his eyes before temper swept through them.

  And Coco knew she was in serious trouble.

  With a heartfelt expletive, Rafe hauled her into his strong arms.

  Her body switched on. There was no other word for it. In Rafe’s arms, on. Out of Rafe’s arms, off.

  Coco found herself pinned from shoulder to thigh against the furious hard length of him as that amazing mouth crushed hers.

  He showed no mercy.

  Bruising lips punished and plundered her vulnerable mouth as her whole system went up in flames.

  She couldn’t know her low whimpers of fear and arousal were driving him out of his mind.

  Rafe growled low in his throat as he thrust his tongue into the silky heat of her trembling mouth.

  She tasted sensational.

  Sweet, hot and so delicious he could feed on her forever.

  When her tongue danced with his and she pressed herself, rubbed herself against him, he almost lost it.

  His cock was so hard against her soft stomach he could barely breathe.

  While his conscience told him he was taking advantage of the situation, another part told him he now had the perfect opportunity to explore his complex feelings for this woman.

  But he couldn’t help the fear crawling up his spine that she’d become entangled in Sergei Kandinsky’s personal life. It was well known in certain circles that the man was abusive.

  He’d sent out teams to find his missing wife and son.

  And by her reaction tonight Coco was up to her ears in their disappearance. Knowing her, she wouldn’t think twice about helping a friend in need.

  But God, if anything happened to her...

  Dragging his mouth from hers, he pressed crushing, passionate open-mouthed kisses down her jaw line to that frantically beating delicate spot under her ear.

  She smelt fabulous and he inhaled the essence that was pure Coco as she moaned low in her throat.

  She clung to him, trembling uncontrollably with reaction in his arms.

  He realised she was sobbing in her throat as she sucked frantic breaths into her lungs.

  Christ, he didn’t want to let her go.

  He spread his legs and pulled her hips closer.

  Her sobs only increased along with her trembling.

  Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed.

  What he needed to do was to strip her and plunge into her, make her his. But this was neither the time nor the place.

  He sat with her on his knees.

  And holding her tight tried to settle them both.

  How long they sat like that, just holding each other, Coco had no idea.

  Rafe was murmuring against her hair.

  She pulled back to look into his amazing face.

  He had his eyes tightly closed as if he was in agony.

  And since she was sitting on it she knew he was struggling with a titanic erection.

  Shuddering with desire, she fought to calm her breathing.

  Well, if she’d thought her reaction to The Kiss had been over the top it was nothing compared to this.

  Her mind might delude itself that she could control her reaction to the attraction between them.

  But her body, so painfully aroused, was telling her something quite different.

  A cold sweat broke out of every pore.

  The roar in her ears, the too fast beat of her heart told her she was in deep trouble.

  The spots dancing in front of her eyes only confirmed it.

  Rafe opened his eyes and place his forehead on hers.

  “I think that answered the question in the car, don’t you?” His voice sounded hoarse and he cleared his throat. “So, the next question is, what are we going to do about it?”

  Her jerky shudders had him pull back and look at her closely for the first time.

  Her skin was a sickly grey.

  Tiny droplets of sweat beaded on her top lip.

  The violet of her eyes had gone, replaced now by fully dilated pupils.

  In her neck, her pulse jack-rabbited.

  Alarmed, he lifted her, sat her on the bed.

  Crouching he took her hands and found them cold and clammy.

  “What’s the matter? Christ, baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She shook her head and the trembling only increased as her teeth chattered.

  And she clenched her jaw.

  “P-p-panic attack.”

  First he’d heard of it.

  Studying her face he read the simple truth.

  “Since when?”

  He grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around her.

  Coco struggled to catch her breath as he frowned.

  All the while his eyes stayed on hers.

  With an expletive that made her wince, he strode to bathroom and return
ed with a glass of water.

  “Take deep breaths through your nose rather than panting in your throat,” he ordered.

  He helped her take a sip, placed the glass on a table and crouched in front of her.

  “Coco, since when?”

  Sweat trickled down her back.

  Breathing through her nose, doing exactly as he instructed, Coco’s heart rate went from a sprint to a steady jog.

  Rafe squeezed her hands in encouragement.

  He was waiting for an answer.

  Not a chance, sunshine.

  Her issues were her own.

  No way was she going to talk to Rafe about the unending guilt that gnawed her insides, seeming to eat away more and more of her every single day.

  And it was all her own damned fault.

  Because she hadn’t listened, because she knew it all, and because she was so smart and so clever and so full of her own bloody self-importance a man was dead.

  She shrugged off the blanket.

  “Ever since he... I... was attacked.” She cleared her throat. “Today’s been stressful. Camera flash tends to trigger it.”

  “Your father hasn’t mentioned this.”

  She took shaky a breath, sipped the water.

  “He doesn’t know,” she admitted.

  By his expression she could tell he wasn’t impressed with the news.

  Her heart rate steadied.

  “A Monroe does not have panic attacks,” she told him in a perfect imitation of her father’s voice. She swiped her top lip with the back of her hand. “I’m better than I was, therapy helps.”

  Rafe shook his head.

  She read shock, annoyance and something else in those dark eyes.

  “You need to have a real heart to heart with your father.”

  The thought of it made her belly clutch.

  Her whole body convulsed with a single shiver in reaction.

  “I know. I’ll do it when I feel up to it.”

  He sat next to her, gave her a brotherly hug.

  “Christ, and I’ve just tickled your tonsils.”

  Coco found herself managing a shaky laugh at the analogy.

  “I tickled more than your tonsils, Mr. Cavendish.”

  “Damn right you did. What are we going to do about it?”

  She shook her head.

  “I don’t know whether to stick a white hot needle in your eye or jump you.”

 

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