“Or make it worse.”
He leaned into her, sweeping the collar of her dress to one side and finding that sweet spot in the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “Does this feel worse?”
A soft moan escaped. “That’s not what I meant.”
“How about this?”
She shuddered at the caress. So soft. So teasing. Like the brush of a downy feather against her skin. “I mean when we go our separate ways. When the job ends. This will make it worse. Harder.”
“It just gives us some interesting memories to take with us when we part.”
“But it will end, right? You understand that?”
He traced a string of kisses down the length of her neck, pausing long enough to say, “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”
“I just want to be clear about it. That’s all.”
“Fine. We’re both clear about it.”
“There’s one other thing I should tell you before we go any further.”
He sat up with a sigh, allowing a rush of cool air to pour over her, chilling her. A second later the nightstand lamp snapped on, flooding the room with brightness. “The timing’s wrong, isn’t it?”
Larkin jackknifed upright. “No, not at all.” She twisted her hands together. “Do you think you could turn off the light?”
“Why?”
“I’d just find it easier to say this next part if the light were off.”
“Okay.” A simple click plunged the room back into the safety of darkness. “Talk.”
“I think it’s only fair to warn you. What we’re about to do?”
“You mean, what we were doing but aren’t?”
“Oh, no. It’s definitely are doing. Or rather, about to do. Unless you change your mind.”
“What the hell is going on, Larkin?”
“I’ve never done this before, okay?” she confessed in a rush.
Dead silence greeted her confession. “You mean you’ve never had an affair with someone after such a short acquaintance. You’ve never had a one-night stand. That’s what you mean, right?”
“That, too.”
He swore. “You’re a virgin?”
“Pretty much.”
“Last time I checked, that question required a yes or no answer. It’s like pregnancy. Either you are or you’re not. There’s no ‘pretty much’ or ‘sort of’ involved.”
She blew out a sigh. “Yes, I’m a virgin. Does it really matter that much?”
“I want to say no. But I’d be lying.” He stood. “Looks like Primo didn’t need to make that stipulation after all. All you had to do was say three simple words and you’re officially hands-off.”
She couldn’t let it end like this. She didn’t want it to end. She’d waited all this time for the right man and despite all that stood between them, she couldn’t imagine making love with anyone else. If she didn’t do something to stop him, he’d leave. Who knew if she’d be given another opportunity?
Larkin didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the tails of her shirtdress, she tugged it up and over her head and tossed it to one side. She fumbled for the bedside lamp and switched it on, then froze, overwhelmed by her daring.
Her actions seemed to have a similar effect on Rafe. He froze as well, staring at her with an expression that should have had her diving under the covers. Instead, it heated her blood to a near boil.
She stood before him in a silvery-blue bra and thong that were made of gossamer strands of silk, clinging to her breasts and hips like a glittering cobweb. The set was the most revealing she’d ever owned. The bra was low cut, lovingly cupping her small breasts and practically serving them up for Rafe’s inspection. Even more revealing was the thong. The minuscule triangle of semitransparent silk did nothing to protect her modesty. It just drew attention to her boyish hips and the feminine delta of her thighs. If she turned so much as a quarter of an inch, he’d also have a perfect view of the ripe curve of her backside.
It was as though he’d read her mind. “Turn around.” The demand was low and guttural, filled with uncompromising masculine promise. Or was it more of a threat?