The Trouble With Coco Monroe

by CC MacKenzie

  “Where are we going?” Coco asked, feeling as if the world as she knew it had ceased to exist.

  Rafe turned to her again and raised his eyebrows.

  With a laser bright gleam in his eye, he pulled her to her feet, took her arm and marched her down the hall.

  “Somewhere no one will find you.”

  Feet struggling to keep up with his long stride, Coco tried to think.

  “But...”

  “I won’t tell you a third time.” Voice hard, the tone cold, he checked his watch. “We’re leaving as soon as the helicopter arrives.”

  Blood drained from Coco’s face, she actually felt it.

  Reality hit her too hard as he marched her into her bedroom.

  Her father had almost been killed and it was all her fault.

  A wave of nausea swept over her, leaving her freezing cold.

  Rafe hauled a large suitcase out of her closet.

  On automatic pilot, she sorted through drawers.

  He tossed in jeans, T-shirts and her old hiking boots as Coco piled in underwear.

  Louise bustled into the room with a backpack and raced into Coco’s bathroom to gather up essentials.

  Coco pressed her fingers into her eyelids, this couldn’t be happening.

  A wave of agonising guilt swept over her.

  “Here’s your passport just in case.” Louise thrust it into her hand as Rafe swept out with her suitcase. She grabbed Coco in a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve put a satellite phone in the backpack, not even Kandinsky can trace a call on one of those. We can keep in touch with that. I’ll change all the passwords on the systems, reinforce the firewalls.” She sniffed, her mouth trembling as Coco’s eyes filled. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll push deadlines back. It’s not a problem.”

  Rafe entered, picked up the backpack and grabbed Coco’s arm.

  Louise turned to him, her green eyes fierce.

  “Where are you taking her?”

  He shook his head.

  “The less people who know the more secure she’ll be.”

  “But...”

  “It’s for her own safety, Louise.”

  Coco could see her friend wasn’t happy, but she nodded.

  “Take care of her, do you hear me? If anything, anything, happens to her, you’ll have me to deal with.”

  “Wait,” Coco said, as he gave her arm a tug. “I need shoes.”

  She flew to her closet.

  Thrust her feet into a pair of sheepskin boots.

  The helicopter ride passed in a blur.

  In the distance Coco recognised the grand vision of Ludlow Hall as they approached from the air.

  Over the years she’d visited many times with Louise, and knew the terrain well since they’d spent happy hours with Bronte and Rosie hiking in the hills.

  But instead of landing at the helipad they kept going, over trees and golden fields planted with ripe wheat until they hovered above the Dower house with its swimming pool and outbuildings.

  Two expensive cars, Range Rovers in glossy black with tinted windows, were parked next to a helipad.

  And next to the cars two men were waiting.

  Coco recognised Nico Ferranti and Jacob Del Garda.

  When the rotor blades were still, Rafe jumped out and took her hand to help her climb down.

  He placed a strong arm around her waist as the men approached.

  Nico shook his hand and turned to introduce his companion.

  “Rafe, you met Jacob at Rosie’s wedding.”

  They shook hands and Coco had the distinct impression of two sleek panthers, dark, wary, and watchful of the other.

  Jacob was incredibly attractive, tall, built and resembled his brother, PR legend Lucas. But where Lucas was approachable and personable, Jacob looked a completely different animal. Cold dark eyes swept over her, rested on the way Rafe held her before his gaze locked on hers. Deadly was her first thought, but then he blinked and the look disappeared.

  He took her hand.

  “You did a brave thing, querida. Brave, but foolish.”

  Before she could respond, Nico had her wrapped in a bruising hug.

  Then he leaned back. His hand tipped up her chin as he studied her face, her hair, before he shook his head.

  “You are worse than Rosie for getting yourself into trouble, cara mia. Welcome.”

  Tears stung her eyes and Coco blinked frantically to clear them.

  She looked around at the beautiful gardens, the stunning home.

  “Where’s Bronte and...”

  Nico’s hands gently cupped her face forcing her to look at him and she saw the truth in those dark eyes.

  “She is working from Sweet Sensations today. I have not told her of this. I will not put her in harm’s way. Do you understand?”

  Of course she did.

  But guilt hit her too hard and so did a feeling of panic that her life was spiralling out of control.

  “I don’t need to be here. I can go...”

  Nico shook his head.

  “We have a newly completed cabin designed for honeymooners a couple of miles from here. The security system is linked to The Hall. No one can approach the private road to the property without alerting our team. You will be safe there as long as you take precautions. No cell phone or email contact with the outside world until this matter is resolved. If all goes well, you will see Bronte soon.”

  Now Nico released her and turned to Rafe.

  “Our team will with work with yours. Any issues, you have my number.”

  “There will not be issues,” Jacob’s deep voice interrupted Rafe’s response. “I have experience of such things. As long as Coco stays within the perimeter of the property and does as she is told she will be safe.”

  Reaction was setting in now as the truth of her situation hit Coco too hard.

  Her legs went weak as Rafe tucked her into the back seat of a Range Rover, snapped on the seatbelt and closed the door.

  He took the front passenger seat while Nico drove.

  Jacob followed behind.

  The drive up a dirt track through thick woods was a short one before the road rose sharply and they climbed until they came to a narrow track. Nico swung the car round a hairpin bend and there, tucked behind a hill was a jaw-droppingly beautiful cabin made of plate glass and thick beams of solid oak. A sweeping decked area led to an incredible swimming pool carved out of rock.

  Coco slid out of the vehicle.

  They were high in the hills surrounding Ludlow Hall.

  Silence was the first thing that struck her.

  As did the reality that she’d be totally alone here, with Rafe.

  The men unloaded the vehicles.

  Nico showed Rafe how the house worked, while Coco wandered through an open plan kitchen, living space, which led out into gardens alive with summer colour.

  But the beauty of the spot was totally wasted on her.

  How the hell had everything gone so badly wrong?

  After saying goodbye to Nico and Jacob, Coco left Rafe in the kitchen making coffee and wandered through to the beautiful sitting area.

  She should have insisted on going to see her father she thought now as she curled up on a fabulous linen couch the colour of clotted cream. She needed to see him, to make sure for herself that he was as well as he sounded.

  Rafe handed her a drink.

  “I should have gone to him,” she muttered into the cup.

  “That would not have been smart thinking,” Rafe said, his deep voice firm as he sat opposite her, stretching out long legs.

  Under the circumstances he looked calm and terribly controlled. But then he’d been in the Special Forces and was probably used to dealing with this sort of thing.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Kandinsky’s in a hurry. He doesn’t have time to look for you. This was an attempt to flush you out, bring you to him.” His voice was still cool, but the tone didn’t sound as harsh as before.

  She frow
ned as the sense of the argument struck her.

  Eyes glued to his, she placed her cup on a glass coffee table, leaned forward.

  “How do you know all this?” she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

  “According to the police it’s his modus operandi.”

  Modus operandi?

  Dear heaven, what had she done?

  “Oh, Rafe.” Coco buried her face in her hands. “I’ve made such a terrible, terrible mess of things.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Coco knew Rafe was a man who had no time for tears, but her sobs shook her whole body and her heart felt as if it would break into a thousand pieces.

  With an expletive, he placed his coffee on the table, rose and sat next to her.

  He hauled her onto his knees and rocked her, his cheek resting on the top of her head.

  Shame flooded her as the scent of him, the feel of him under her cheek, aroused and warmed her blood.

  How could she think of such things when her father had dodged a bullet?

  Thank God for Rafe, he was her anchor in a world that had become uncertain yet again.

  He held her tight and she closed her eyes, absorbing the sound and the feel of the steady thump of his heart.

  He’d no idea how long he simply held her.

  Rafe nuzzled her hair, the scent of shampoo and her skin was pure Coco and he loved it.

  This was supposed to be the easy part.

  He had her just where he wanted her.

  The conversation he’d had with Charles Monroe last night spun in his mind.

  Look after my baby girl, do what it takes to keep her safe, he’d pleaded.

  But Rafe couldn’t cope with Coco’s heartbreak, her guilt.

  Twice in one day he’d hurt her.

  “I can’t bear to see you like this,” he whispered.

  Struggling to find the right words Rafe pressed a kiss into her hair and waited.

  No reply.

  He took a deep breath and continued, “I need to speak to you. Coco...”

  Silence.

  He bent his head to look at her.

  She was sound asleep.

  His breath of relief caught in his throat as he indulged himself in simply looking at her.

  Those soft cheeks were flushed now.

  A solitary tear clung to a damp eyelash. Her breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Half turned into his body, a so soft breast pressed into his ribs and one arm lay around his waist.

  Dark circles cast a shadow under her spiky lashes and he pressed his lips to that gorgeous nose.

  He lifted her in his arms.

  The fragility of her, how small, how light she felt made him hold her close as he carried her through the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

  Rafe placed her on the king-size bed, slid off her boots.

  Coco whimpered and curled into a tight ball.

  And Rafe knew a fist to the gut would have hurt less.

  He rubbed the ache between his ribs.

  After a short debate with himself, he toed off his boots and lay beside her on his back staring at the ceiling.

  He’d done the right thing.

  He knew it.

  Kandinsky was an evil bastard.

  Coco would have argued for hours and at the end of it still refused to leave her home.

  What choice did he have but to appeal to her sense of responsibility?

  However, the way he’d gone about protecting her had taken a heavy toll, shattered her.

  He’d used her love for her father against her.

  Selfishly, he wanted her.

  His body ached with need for her.

  But he could hardly take advantage of an emotional and vulnerable Coco.

  She gave a sad little sigh as she slept.

  He turned to pull her into the curve of his body.

  And fought a war of attrition with his physical response.

  This was a nightmare and it was his own bloody fault.

  He’d close his eyes for a moment, just to rest them, and to think about what to do.

  His last thoughts were he would tell her what he’d done - as soon as they were settled.

  That way she couldn’t cause a scene or kill him in front of witnesses.

  A dead weight lay across her shoulders and for a moment Coco couldn’t work out where she was.

  Her eyes felt swollen.

  Then her brain downloaded the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  A snuffle made her turn her head and there was Rafe sound asleep and facing her.

  He looked fabulous.

  Mouth dry, her stomach clenched.

  His arm lay across her breasts and she licked her lips as she studied his face.

  The memory of the last time she’d seen him asleep washed over her.

  The shame of that night was imprinted on her psyche forever.

  She’d been eighteen and...

  Don’t go there.

  But she yielded to the temptation of openly studying those lips, the I-need-a-shave-jaw, the jet-black slash of eyebrows and the valleys and plains of his bone structure.

  The man was seriously...

  She yelped as his eyes opened and stared directly into hers.

  The flash of awareness and the dilation of his pupils matched the delicious curl of liquid lust deep in her belly. Then she let herself sink into the mesmerising dreamy pool of dark eyes the colour of bitter chocolate.

  He smiled and her breath caught in her throat.

  “You have girly eyelashes,” she said breaking the moment and could have cut out her tongue with a blunt knife.

  He raised a brow.

  “Nothing girly about me, honey,” he growled.

  Those eyes, dark and intense still held hers.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears as her nipples ached, matching the hot rhythm throbbing between her thighs.

  Coco forgot to breathe as he bent his head and his mouth captured hers.

  His teeth nipped, nibbled her bottom lip, sending a spear of sharp arousal through her system. She opened her mouth and the taste of him spilled through her blood. Her tongue danced with his as his hand slid under her top. Gentle fingers stroked her waist, up her ribs to skim the edge of her naked breast.

  His mouth, hard and hot, greedily possessed hers.

  The thunder in her ears, the way her stomach fell as her mind went blank, it was, she thought dimly, like being fired out of a rocket. There was nothing soft and gentle about this kiss. It was passionate, bruising and forced her to participate.

  He groaned into her mouth, the vibration shimmering through her system.

  Of their own volition, her fingers tunnelled through his black hair, it felt all silky and soft.

  She twisted her body into the lean hard length of his. But strong hands pushed her hips away from his. And Coco gave a little mewl of frustration.

  His mouth tasted hers with a thoroughness that made her heart sing. His tongue swept her bottom lip and she opened her mouth with a low moan of need that had her shudder with arousal. Her tongue tangled with his and she sucked it into her mouth.

  He tasted fabulous.

  Heat, was all she could think. He made every part of her burn. Her breath came now in desperate little pants and she trembled, groaning with need into his mouth.

  His strong hands smoothed, exploring the skin of her naked back as she clung to him.

  With a long, low groan Rafe tore his mouth from hers and gently pushed her away.

  Breath panting in his throat he rolled onto his back, his eyes tightly shut.

  Heart racing like a hamster on a wheel Coco pressed trembling fingers to her swollen mouth.

  After a gargantuan struggle with arousal, disappointment, she turned to him.

  Why had he pulled back?

  “Rafe? What’s wrong?”

  Eyes still closed he found her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “I should never, never have touched you. I can’t do this. Not now
. I can’t...”

  Totally bewildered and not enjoying the sensation one little bit, Coco leaned on her elbow and stared down at him.

  His lips were in a hard line as his brow creased, his eyes closed tight as if he was in great pain.

  What the hell was the matter with him?

  She remembered he hadn’t had a girl friend in a while.

  Plus his job was incredibly demanding.

  Being in charge of operations for Monroe Industries was a huge responsibility. She was well aware it involved more than security.

  Perhaps he’d been working too hard and burned out?

  It wouldn’t surprise her for a moment since she knew he had a relentless work ethic.

  And she had to admit the past few days had been full of stress.

  Another thought occurred to her.

  Hadn’t a recent magazine article been talking about this very thing?

  Apparently erectile dysfunction was common even in young healthy men.

  Surely not?

  But biting her bottom lip Coco noticed he’d bent his knee and pulled the blanket over his groin, his hand covered it, too.

  Poor Rafe.

  She would need to be extra careful.

  The male ego was a fragile thing.

  He flinched as her fingers smoothed back his hair from his brow.

  Easy sympathy for him rose in her chest.

  She kept her voice soft, the tone friendly.

  “You shouldn’t worry about these things. It can happen to the best of men. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  His eyes flew open.

  And he stared unblinking at the ceiling.

  She smiled, affection for him making her voice gentle.

  “I believe it tends to be a confidence thing. Sometimes a man wants it too much.”

  He blinked once and turned to look at her.

  And she read confusion and something dark she couldn’t identify.

  “What.” His voice was deceptively soft. “Are you talking about?”

  Cocking her head to study that fabulous face, she gave into temptation and stroked her fingers gently through his hair.

  This time he didn’t flinch and she took it as a promising sign to continue.