by Opal Carew
“The chicken marsala is one of our specials tonight. I know how much you enjoy that.” Giorgio opened a menu and set it down in front of her, then did the same for Rafe. “Also, Antonio made a special lobster-stuffed ravioli with a rosé sauce.”
A waiter placed ice water in front of them, each glass with a twist of lemon, then continued on his way.
“Lobster ravioli?” Melanie smiled. “That sounds delicious.”
“Two raviolis it is, and a carafe of the house wine.” Rafe closed his menu and handed it to Giorgio.
“Excellent.” Giorgio scooped up her menu and hurried away.
Melanie picked up the cloth napkin and laid it on her lap. When she glanced up again, Rafe’s sky blue gaze was upon her. She sipped her water, not quite sure what to do with herself.
“This is kind of strange,” she said finally.
His eyebrows hiked up. “What is?”
“Sitting here with you. In a restaurant.”
“We’ve been out for meals together before.”
“Yeah, sure. At Christmas. Usually with a couple of the other staff.”
“And on your birthday.”
It was true. He’d always been very considerate that way.
“But you were my boss. This is different.”
He smiled. “That’s right. Now it’s as friends.”
She had to stop her smile from fading. Friends. Great. He’d gone from being her boss to being her friend. Not really what she’d been hoping for.
“We can be friends, can’t we?” he asked.
“Of course. I’d like that.”
“Good.”
The waiter brought the carafe of wine and filled their glasses.
“So are you enjoying being back?” she asked.
After Rafe’s father had died, Rafe had left Philadelphia and disappeared for almost a year. Their overbearing father had pushed Rafe to follow in his footsteps, heedless of what Rafe wanted, and once the man was gone, Rafe had needed to get away and discover who he really was. So he’d left Ranier Industries and pursued his dream of being a guitarist in a rock band, and right now, with his faded jeans and tattoos, he looked every bit the part.
Melanie could just picture crowds of women swooning when he came on stage.
“Do you miss it?” Melanie asked. “The rock star lifestyle, I mean.”
“I enjoyed being on the road, but it made me realize that despite my difficulties with my father, I really do care about the company. It’s the Ranier legacy, and it employs a lot of great people. Since I’ve been back, I’ve been doing more to develop green technologies, which has always been a passion of mine. And I’m pleased with all the positive changes Dane has made. The only thing that’s hard to get used to is the rigid schedule.”
“Well, you’re the boss. You can keep your own hours.”
“To an extent. But on the whole, business still needs to be done during business hours.”
She understood what he meant. He could come in late if he wanted, and leave early, but a lot of what he did involved meeting with other people, and that mostly had to be done during the regular business day.
“Remember, during the past year, I’ve been playing with a band, and the hours are quite different.”
“Well, you could always set a schedule where you only spend a few days in the office and take all your appointments on those days only. Then the other days are your own. Maybe you could play guitar somewhere local. Even a club out of town, if you want to reduce the chance of Ranier employees running into you as Storm.”
He smiled. “You know me so well. I’ve already started looking into pulling together a band and playing at some clubs, but I hadn’t thought of concentrating my office hours into a few days.”
She smiled. “That’s why you love me.” As soon as she’d said the words, her gaze darted to his face.
He chuckled. “Yes, I do.”
It was something he used to say when he would praise her after she offered a creative solution to a problem he’d been struggling with. It had actually started with him telling her he loved having her as his secretary, then eventually he’d shortened it to that’s why I love you.
She knew he hadn’t really meant it, of course, other than in an affectionate way, but it had still thrilled her every time he’d said it.
God, she was pathetic.
Their dinner arrived, and she picked up her fork and took a bite. The lobster-filled pasta and smooth, creamy sauce melted in her mouth.
“You know, that’s why I really wish you’d come back. I miss working with you.”
She compressed her lips. “Rafe, I already told you—”
He raised his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You already know the offer’s out there if you want to come back.”
She nodded and took another bite. Then she gazed at him again. “But I won’t, you know.” She put down her fork. “And it’s because of you.”
His gaze shot to hers and he tilted his head in question.
“I just really admire what you did. You took a risk and walked away. You were living a life someone else had set out for you and instead of just accepting it, you decided to pursue your dream. And to figure out who you really are.”
“I’m not sure I’ve really succeeded.”
“Yes, you have. Or at least, you’re on the right path.” She sipped her wine. “And that inspired me to do the same. I’m not like you. I don’t know what I have a passion for—yet—but I do know that I want to be free of rules, and as you said, the nine-to-five existence.”
“Did I have too many rules?” he asked.
“No, they were mine. I always behaved the way I was expected to behave. I conformed to what my family wanted, and what society expected. I never really took the time to decide what I wanted. So now, with the generous severance Mr. Ranier gave me, I have the opportunity to figure it out.”
“So you’re working at a coffee shop.”
“I don’t intend to be defined by my job. That’s just what I do to make money. But working there means I have variable hours and some mornings free, and it’s the perfect time to paint and sketch—something I never had time for in the corporate world. I want to shake up my life, try new things, and question everything. Seeing what you did inspired me.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. So what else do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe meet a handsome guy and do something really wild and crazy.”
His lips turned up in a grin. “You mean in the bedroom?”
“Oh, uh…” Ever since Jessica had told her a little about how exciting she found it to be dominated in the bedroom, Melanie had dreamed of trying that herself, but she hadn’t meant to let that slip.
She glanced at him and his eyes twinkled with mischief. Her cheeks flushed hotly.
“I just meant we wouldn’t do the same old boring things.” This was not making it better. “You know, like dates where we go to the movies or whatever.”
As he gazed at her speculatively, she stared at her wineglass, wrapping her fingers around the stem.
“I don’t intend to fall into old patterns,” she continued. “I want to push the limits on everything I do. At least, for a while.”
She took the conversation back to her art, and before long, the waiter took away their empty plates, offered dessert, which they declined, and the bill arrived. They stepped out into the warm evening air and walked toward his big motorcycle.
“May I give you a ride home?”
“Thank you. I’d like that.”
She climbed onto the big machine behind him and they sped across the city to her apartment building. Too soon he pulled up in front of the entrance and got off the bike, then retrieved her bag from the storage container and walked her to the glass door.
“Thanks again for dinner. And the ride home.” She opened her purse and pulled out her key. She gazed up at him. “And I really appreciate you staying with me while I got the tattoo.”
“It was my pleasu
re. You know, today I saw a whole new side of you, and I found it very intriguing.” He smiled warmly. “I’d really like the opportunity to get to know you better.”
She gazed at his handsome face, mesmerized by his twinkling, sky blue eyes, and returned his smile. “I’d like that.”
She longed to reach up and stroke his spiky, dark hair. They stood in silence for a few seconds and she realized he was waiting for her to open her door.
It had been a wonderful evening and she didn’t want it to end, but she was sure as soon as she opened her door, he would say good night and be gone.
“I … uh … do you think it was a good choice? The tattoo I mean?”
“Yours or mine?”
“Yours is gorgeous,” she said. “Do you think mine looks as nice?”
“Yours is beautiful. I can’t believe I didn’t know you had such artistic ability. And you said it represents freedom. Because you’re spreading your wings?”
She nodded. “Freedom and happiness. The bluebird of happiness taking flight.”
He smiled. “I like that. And I like that I got to see the tattoo that only a few special men will ever see.”
The warmth in his eyes sent a quiver through her. It had been embarrassing pulling down her top to reveal her breast with Rafe there. And exciting at the same time.
“Along with the stranger who put it there,” she said.
Oh, man, why had she ruined the mood by saying that?
He laughed. “I guess that’s true.”
“Um…” She gazed up at him. “Do you want to come up and see it again?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she thought she’d die. How could she say that?
Their gazes locked, and he hesitated.
“Oh, God, I shouldn’t have said that.” She stuffed her key into the lock and turned it, then pulled open the door. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Of course, she had meant it exactly the way it sounded, but his hesitation had spoken volumes.
The uncertainty in his eyes prompted her to continue. “It’s just that I’ve never had a tattoo before and … well, I’m just being silly wanting you to look at it when I take the dressing off. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“If you’re really concerned—”
“No, really. It’s fine. Thanks anyway.”
Oh, God, was he really buying that? But she definitely didn’t want him to come up now. It would be so awkward.
He smiled. “I enjoyed today. Thank you.” He tucked his finger under her chin and tipped her face up, sending tingles through her. His lips brushed hers in the barest whisper of a kiss, and she thought she’d faint.
This was how fantasies were born.
Then he stepped back. “Good night.”
She nodded, then slipped in the door, glancing over her shoulder as she walked across the lobby. He waited outside the door until she turned down the corridor to the elevator before he walked away.
* * *
Rafe ensured Melanie got inside okay, then lingered as he watched her walk across the lobby.
What the hell was that? And now he couldn’t drag his gaze from her delightfully swaying derriere. It looked so round and inviting in those snug jeans of hers.
Memories of the creamy swell of her breast, the virginal flesh exposed and ready for her tattoo, lingered in his mind. Ever since Charlie had covered it with the dressing, Rafe couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop longing to touch it.
If it had been any other woman, he would have flirted all through dinner, then suggested they go back to his place. Or hers. But when Melanie had invited him up to her place … to see the damned tattoo, no less … he had faltered.
She had denied coming on to him, but she couldn’t hide the need in her eyes.
So why had he held back?
He flipped open the storage compartment on his bike and pulled out his helmet. There were times they’d worked long hours together, and he couldn’t help but notice that hot little body she kept well hidden behind her conservative business attire. But he’d cared about her too much to jeopardize their working relationship.
So he’d suppressed his attraction to her. And with great success. He was sure neither Melanie, Dane, nor anyone else knew he could barely contain himself when she was near. He’d become such a master at controlling those feelings, he’d almost forgotten about them.
Almost.
But today … fuck, his groin ached with need.
As he pulled on the helmet and fastened it, he noticed something sitting in the bottom of the container, beside the helmet Melanie had worn.
Ah, damn it.
* * *
Melanie stepped off the elevator, then walked down the hall to her apartment. Once inside, she closed the door behind her, then leaned against it.
Now, if only she could forget the whole embarrassing incident downstairs. She cringed at the thought of her lame come-on, then the way she’d babbled in an attempt to deny it. He’d probably seen right through her excuse.
She unzipped her sweater and tugged it off, then tossed it over the back of the couch.
“I’m such a dumbass,” she muttered as she walked into her bathroom and gazed in the mirror at the white patch on her chest. She was happy to distract herself by pulling off her top and gently peeling the dressing away, exposing the beautiful tattoo. The artist had done a wonderful job. She touched the reddened flesh around the design. It felt slick. She grabbed a fresh washcloth and dampened it, then wiped over the tattoo, as per the instructions they’d sent with her. Then she reached for the small tube of ointment from her dresser and applied it.
A knock sounded on her door. She pulled on her top again, then straightened it and hurried to the entrance. She smiled, assuming it was Jessica, coming over to see her new ink.
Oh, man, thank heavens Rafe hadn’t come up after all. It would have been awkward if Jessica had arrived with Rafe here.
Especially since as soon as the man walked into her apartment, she probably would have thrown herself at him and torn off his clothes.
She grabbed the doorknob, anxious to show Jessica her new tattoo. When she pulled it open, shock vaulted through her.
There in the doorway stood big, sexy Rafe, a crooked smile on his face.
Savage Kiss
Melanie’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at the wickedly sexy Rafe, his large frame filling her doorway.
“Uh … hi,” she stammered. “Come in.”
With his broad shoulders and tattoos flowing down his muscular arms, he could be an intimidating presence. In fact, she was amazed someone actually let him in the front door, but then, who would argue with him?
A shiver danced down her spine as he stepped inside. Big and utterly masculine, he seemed to take up all the space in her tiny apartment. Something she’d dreamed of for a long time.
“Sorry to just show up at your door, but your wallet fell out of your bag,” he said. “I found it in the storage compartment when I went to grab my helmet.”
He held it out to her, and she almost giggled at the sight of her bright pink, rhinestone-adorned wallet in his big, masculine hand.
Oh, damn, she was giddy.
She took it from him, trying to ignore the shiver of heat that rushed along her arm at the brush of his fingers against hers.
“I’m glad you found it. I would have panicked tomorrow morning when I noticed it was missing. Plus, it has my bus pass.”
She grabbed her purse and slid the wallet inside, then closed the snap, which was a little flakey. That’s why the darned wallet had fallen out. Not that she was complaining. It gave her another chance to see Rafe.
“So how’s your tattoo?” he asked. “I see you’ve taken off the dressing.”
Her hand fluttered to her breast as she turned to face him again. “Oh, it’s fine. Just a little red, which they said to expect.”
His gaze slid to her breast, and she couldn’t push away the memory of her earlier suggestion that he come up and ch
eck it out. Now, with him here, she was tempted to draw down the fabric of her top to reveal the tattoo to him. And more.
“Okay. I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait,” she said. “Would you like coffee? I have decaf. Or soda? Or beer?”
His lips turned up in a charming smile. “I’d like that. A soda will be fine.”
She went into the kitchen and filled two glasses with cola, then returned to the living room to find him sitting on the couch. She handed him one and sat down beside him.
“Did you do that?” he asked, gazing at the sketch of a phoenix she’d framed and hung on the wall over the desk.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“It’s the same style as your tattoo.” He nodded toward the phoenix. “It’s very good. Have you tried selling your art?”
She placed her glass on the coffee table. “Oh, no. I mean, sometimes a friend will ask me to do something for them, but I never charge them.”
“You know, if you’re interested in doing something artistic for a living, I’m sure we could find something for you in the art department at Ranier Industries.”
She smiled. “There you go trying to help me out again. You know, you’re not responsible for me.”
“You’re right, but I’d like to help. Not because I feel obligated. I think you’re talented and just need a chance to shine. I’d love to help you do that.”
“Did you want help when you broke away from the company and went off on your motorcycle to find yourself?”
His lips quirked up. “No, but I have a big bank account to fall back on. And the family business. You have to play it closer to the edge. But I get it. You want to do it on your own.”
She smiled and took a sip of her drink. “Talking about your time away, how was it playing your guitar in front of huge audiences?”
His eyes glowed. “It was a pure adrenaline rush.”
She grinned. “A few months ago, I never would have been able to imagine Rafe Ranier, businessman, always impeccably dressed in a designer suit, playing guitar with a rock band in front of screaming fans, but after seeing you with your tattoos and leather jacket, and riding the big motorcycle…” She shrugged. “I still say you inspire me.”
