Julian wondered what amused her as her lips curved, her eyes lightening as he approached her.
Tilting her head sideways a little, she smiled and offered her hand, “Julian Lüceanu?”
When she smiled, she went from lovely to truly beautiful in an instant. To his surprise his heart and his breath caught a little at the sight of it. It had been some time since a woman had affected him so quickly.
She surprised him, too, by not mangling his last name. Another point in her favor.
Julian smiled, inclining his head a little in acknowledgement. “Then you would be Rafaela Stratford?”
Her stormy blue eyes assessed him.
Rafi was accustomed to making quick appraisals of people, it was necessary in her line of work.
He was handsome, but not arrogant about it.
There was pride in his stance, dignity without conceit, and strength underneath it all. Not just physical strength, either, although she suspected he was far stronger than he looked. On close inspection there was definitely muscle beneath that shirt. To her astonishment, she also sensed honor and a strength of character not often seen any more. It was something about his manner, the way he carried himself. He wasn’t a man to trifle…or one to trifle with.
His voice was marvelous, just a little deep, with the faintest trace of an accent. Her heart fluttered a little.
Still…
“I would be, but my friends call me Rafi,” she said, intrigued.
Lifting her hand to his lips in a courtly gesture that didn’t look stupid on him at all, he gazed at her with those sexy, long-lashed dark eyes.
His warm lips on her skin sent a flush of heat through her.
“So, Rafaela,” Julian asked, a rush going through him at the invitation he could see in her expression, “am I to be a friend, then?”
He watched her lips twitch in response to the light brush of his lips over her knuckles.
“Oh, there’s a very strong possibility of that,” she said, her eyes twinkling before her gaze softened at the romantic gesture.
Julian very much liked that light in her eyes.
He also liked the slender curve of her throat, the way her hair streamed in rippling waves over her shoulders and down her back, the way she sat so straightly, so elegantly. So many American women slumped unattractively and most didn’t know how to walk properly either, clumping around in their expensive, uncomfortable, designer shoes.
“Will you join me?” he asked, waiting for her assent before nodding to the maitre d’.
The man escorted them quickly to a secluded table by the windows with the best view of the lights of the city below. It was truly breathtaking.
She glanced at Julian quickly as he held her chair for her.
“Thank you, Philip,” Julian said quietly, as he took his own seat.
He watched Rafaela Stratford.
Her expression softened and her lips parted a little in pure pleasure as she looked out over the city. What surprised him was the proprietary air in her look.
So she saw the city as her own. As did he. That was intriguing.
No sooner had she sat than the sommelier arrived with champagne in a bucket. A very good champagne. She looked at Julian and one eyebrow lifted as she noted the label on the bottle.
Julian had ordered the very best, his own vintage, and wondered at her reaction. So, she knew wines.
The man poured the sparkling liquid into their glasses.
Lifting hers, Rafaela nodded and took a slow sip, rolling it around in her mouth before she sighed with pleasure at the taste.
Julian watched her eyelids flutter as she savored the wine, and was heartened even more. She was both an expressive and a sensualist. Even better.
Clearly approving their selection, the sommelier departed.
The look in Rafi’s eyes as her gaze met Julian’s was far too wise and he saw that mobile mouth twitch once again in amusement. She was on to him already and refused to be impressed by the show of wealth. That was a very good sign.
“Oh, I like you,” he said, and watched her expression turn impish, a smile brightening her pretty eyes.
She had a lovely and engaging smile, truly beautiful. Color touched her cheeks as she took another sip of the champagne.
Studying him from beneath her lashes, Rafi took another sip of the excellent champagne. She couldn’t help but notice the effort he was making to impress her.
“I like you, too,” she said, “but I have to ask, what’s a man like you doing using an internet dating service?”
Lifting his own glass, he took a careful sip, his dark eyes watching her. Somehow, he made the small gesture look elegant, graceful.
“A man like me?” he said, his tone noncommittal, but his lips turned up a little as he watched her. And she watched him in return.
Rafi gave him a meaningful look, tilting her head, her eyebrow lifting, and he laughed at her knowing expression.
“Somehow I don’t think you need to fish for compliments,” she said, as she gestured around them, “but you’re a very attractive man and wealthy enough to afford this. The kind of men I usually meet aren’t the kind of men I’d want to date. But you? You could have your pick of women.”
Julian smiled, shrugged negligently, and leaned back a little in his chair as he gave her request some thought. She was perceptive.
“No, I rarely need to fish for compliments,” he admitted.
He looked down into the glass of sparkling wine, swirled it idly.
“This was my cousin Nico’s idea. Most of the women I meet are the wives, girlfriends, or daughters of business acquaintances and therefore off limits. Or they’re in the business of accumulating wealth themselves and that’s all that interests them. A more conventional service would have given me more of the same. I didn’t want that. Although I’ve known wealth, it hasn’t always been so. I find I have difficulty relating to women like that.”
He stared into his glass, turned it in his fingers, glanced up at her.
Those lovely eyes were fixed on him, clearly interested. It wasn’t just show. So he continued.
“Then there are those who seek wealth, wait staff, secretaries. All they wish is to enjoy the trappings of money and power. They’re content to be a decoration on my arm and a companion in my bed. They gauge their responses to mine, echoing my opinions without a thought of their own. That’s not enough. I want something more. I want someone I can talk to, someone who will challenge me.”
So far Rafi was that, forthright and honest. It made for a refreshing change.
“In what way?” she asked.
“Someone with whom I can spend a pleasant evening,” he said, taking her hand, before lifting it to his lips. “Someone I can talk to, have a conversation with.”
Her blue eyes studied him. Assessed.
It was something to which he wasn’t quite accustomed, but he found he liked it.
He made a comment about the current political situation and she responded intelligently, with quiet heat. Points for all three, especially the intelligence and passion. That boded well too.
Passion was passion. To be passionate about anything meant there was the possibility of being passionate about many things.
He liked her quick smiles, too, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, the way her fingers brushed the back of his hand or his forearm when she wanted to make a point.
Rafi hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to anyone like this in ages and, although the champagne had loosened her tongue a little, it didn’t concern her, as sparks definitely flew between them in more ways than one.
The conversation wandered until the piano player played the opening bars to A Kiss to Build a Dream On.
“Dance with me?” Julian asked, his eyes level on hers.
Rafi smiled as he stood and offered his hand.
A small curl of warmth went through her at the thought.
Taking the offered hand, she allowed him to lead her out onto the small dance floor by the piano. He
swung her gracefully into his arms as the old romantic tune played. He danced beautifully, his hand firm against her lower back, pulling her close until her hips were nestled against his. Rafi’s throat tightened as his breath fluttered over her throat. A man who danced well generally made love well…and he danced very well. He’d just scored major points.
Even in heels she was aware of her height – or lack thereof – but not in a bad way as she looked up into his face.
The soft, spicy aroma of his cologne seemed to surround her, draw her closer. Rafi was incredibly conscious of his body against hers, of the strong muscles of his shoulders as they flexed beneath her hand. There was power in the body hidden beneath the business shirt and dark suit. A rush of heat went through her as his lips brushed softly against her ear. She shivered a little, closing her eyes with a sigh as her pulse quickened.
When she opened her eyes, she found he was looking at her, his dark eyes intense.
Her heart beat a little faster as his mouth lowered slowly to hers. The kiss was warm, marvelous. He tasted lightly of champagne. His lips alternately firm and soft, he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her as well.
The man could definitely kiss.
Breathing her in, Julian found the scent of her skin to be soft, sweet. She moved gracefully against him as they danced. Her movements were unconsciously enticing as her hips slid against his in rhythm to the music. Julian hardened pleasantly just at that. Very nice.
Carefully, he lowered his head to her throat to brush his mouth gently against it. Her pulse beat strong and rapid beneath his lips. She shivered and gasped a little.
He closed his eyes and smiled. That responsiveness was another point in her favor. He wanted a woman with passion, desire, one who wasn’t afraid to show it.
And now that his mouth had found hers?
He found his own heart pounding as her lips moved softly, sweetly beneath his. She tasted delicious, clean, beneath the crisp tang of the champagne. He loved the feel of her lush body molded against his. It was intoxicating. He’d never responded to a woman so swiftly or with such intensity before.
She pulled away a little and he was surprised to feel a twinge of loss. It shocked him that he wanted her so much so quickly and yet he did. After so many disappointments, he braced himself for another, until he looked into her stormy blue eyes. What he saw there wasn’t rejection, but a question.
Deliberately, Rafi drew back, even though her body hummed in response to him. When had she felt such electricity in a simple kiss? Kissing Julian wasn’t simple, though, not by a long shot. She swallowed hard, looking into his intense dark eyes. Something called to her in that steady gaze. There was strength in him, a strength she sensed she could lean on.
It shook her. That was entirely unexpected.
Taking a breath, she looked up into his handsome, aristocratic face – evenly, squarely.
He was so beautiful and his body felt wonderful against hers, the sheer power in it astonishing. She felt a shot of longing, of lust, that went straight to her core. And her heart.
She knew it would be easier to walk away now than later. Much easier. She needed to be straight with him from the beginning.
“If you’re looking for a one-night stand,” she said, bluntly, “I’m not interested.”
She’d been there, done that, and was tired of waking up in the morning alone. There were days when it was difficult enough for her to get up, much less from an empty bed.
“If you’re not sure you’re interested in a relationship right now,” she said, “come talk to me when you are. I’m not looking for promises of forever, just someday or maybe, just honesty.”
Looking into her stormy blue eyes Julian almost smiled in relief. He liked and respected her directness. Her gaze on his was steady and sure, but he could also see the vulnerability she hid even from herself.
“Neither am I,” he said. It was nothing more than the truth. “I want much, much more. I’ve had my fill of one-night stands. No promises, we’ll take it one step at a time, but I can assure you of that much. And I like you, Rafaela Stratford.”
He drew her gently back into his arms. She felt very good there. With one hand, he brushed the soft chestnut hair away from her face and brought his mouth down to hers for another taste of her sweetness and spice. It was intoxicating. Already he longed for more.
If it had just been him…but it wasn’t.
That was for later, hopefully. If it had been in him at that moment to pray, he would have.
One step at time.
“Are you hungry, Raffia?” he asked, softly.
The original plan had been for a late dinner, but there was clearly no need for it. What he was hungry for they didn’t serve here. He tightened his arms around Rafi a little.
Rafi searched his eyes, smiling at the play on her name. If anything, it reassured her. This wasn’t a game for him. Unless it was honey or babe, men didn’t give nicknames to someone for whom they felt nothing. So she wasn’t the only one who felt that spark, that kiss that had made her stomach flutter. She was also fairly certain she couldn’t have eaten a bite, not even if the most enticing steak was set in front of her.
“No,” she said. “Are you?”
“A little,” he admitted, “but I can wait.”
Frowning lightly, Rafi said, “Are you sure?”
“Quite,” he assured her. “I’m not ready for the evening to be over, but I don’t know that I want to stay here. Will you walk with me a while?”
Maybe the cooler air outside would help her overheated body.
It did and it didn’t.
They walked through rain-washed streets, Rafi’s arm through Julian’s, laughing and talking. She felt the muscle in his arm beneath the perfectly tailored suit.
He seemed to enjoy her company, bowing his head now and then to hear her replies to his comments.
There were moments, too, when he swung her into his arms unexpectedly to kiss her senseless. The first time he did it, it surprised her. One moment they were laughing and the next she found herself in his arms and his lips on hers.
Unconsciously, she wrapped her hands around his strong wrists as he halted, the motion bringing her around in front of him as he brought his hands up to cup her face.
By itself, the tenderness of the gesture alone nearly undid her.
His lips touched hers with such obvious delight, such evident pleasure, that he caught her off-guard in more ways than one.
For a moment he drew back to look at her, his hands sliding deeper into her hair. The intensity and heat in his gaze set off a firestorm inside her as his lips lowered and then settled over hers once again. He took her mouth deeply with his tongue as his hands skimmed down her back to pull her closer, to mold her body against his.
Rafi slid her hands up into his dark, silky hair as his hands settled on her hips. Her body seemed to be one pulse point, throbbing and aching. It surprised her, she’d never reacted to a man so strongly, so quickly.
For the first time in a long time, Rafi felt a breath of hope.
She’d become cynical, even jaded, and she knew it. And hated it.
She found she didn’t care that it was getting late. She was on the night shift starting the next evening so it didn’t matter how late she stayed out, she could sleep come morning. The more they talked the happier she was, the more they kissed, the warmer she felt.
Excitement filled her.
They came to a stop and Julian drew her into his arms once more but this time the intensity and heat of his gaze nearly scorched her as he stroked a hand into her hair. He studied her face as if memorizing every line of it, seeking something in her expression, in her eyes.
He gestured, with a sigh. “My car.”
Never, never, get into another vehicle with a man you don’t know, her brain said.
It was a very nice Mercedes convertible, a discreet dark blue, with a soft gray leather interior that was definitely custom.
Rafi looked a
t him.
Julian took a deep breath, brushed the hair back from her face with both hands, looked into her dark blue eyes and answered the question in them.
To his surprise, it was very nearly dawn. They’d walked and talked the night away, which shouldn’t have been such a shock to him, but was.
“I very much want this evening to continue,” he said, with a glance at the lightening sky, “but it’s growing late, or rather, early, and I don’t want to rush this. Can we meet again, soon? Perhaps tomorrow night?”
Rafi looked at him and there was regret in her eyes.
“I can’t, I’m working midnights,” she said, “but I’ll be free Monday evening.”
Disappointment was shockingly sharp, but her offer heartened him. It would also give him and them time to be sure.
“Monday it is, then,” he said, “I’d like to show you my home, if that’s all right, and introduce you to my cousin, Nico. This was his idea, after all. I think you’ll like him. I know he’ll like you.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”
With a slight smile and a small inclination of his head, Julian said quietly, “If you’ll trust me I can drive you home or we can call a cab.”
He wanted her a little more time with her, far more intensely than he’d believed possible. Now, given how intoxicated he was becoming with her, it was rapidly becoming imperative. Most of the women he met were far too aware of his wealth. Rafi seemed not to care about anything except Julian Lüceanu, the man.
More though, was the feel of her mouth against his, her sweet body so pliant. They fired his blood and made him hunger for her in a way he’d never hungered for anyone.
If it were only him, there would be no question.
He wanted it to be tonight. He wanted it to be now, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t – rush either of them.
With a smile, she nodded. She’d taken a taxi rather than riding her motorcycle. Bikes and dresses didn’t mix well.
What would his home be like? Rafi wondered, curiosity tugging at her. “That would be wonderful.”
Opening the car door, he offered her his hand.
She smiled.
The Mercedes was even more comfortable than she’d expected. He drove it competently and just a little fast.
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