Название | Rafaello's Mistress |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Lynne Graham |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408996331 |
And then, without any warning whatsoever, Rafaello froze. With a ragged groan, he released her swollen mouth and gazed down at her with heavily lidded smouldering golden eyes that had a faintly dazed light. ‘Per meraviglia… We are in a lift in a public building!’
In an equally sudden movement, Rafaello settled her back down onto her own feet. In shock, Glory finally realised that the lift was still and that all the lights on the control panel were flashing but that the doors had yet to open. ‘Why isn’t it moving?’
‘I stopped it,’ Rafaello admitted curtly, stabbing a couple of buttons.
With a slight lurch the lift set off downward again, while Glory smoothed shaking hands down her rucked sweater. She could not bring herself to look at him. It was one of those moments when intense mortification and essential honesty combined to prevent her from coming up with a single face-saving excuse. Her lips burning from the heat of his, her trembling body still struggling to come down from the heights of anticipation he had contrived to fire within seconds of touching her, she felt shattered.
‘We’ll go back to my apartment,’ Rafaello breathed thickly.
Sensing that lunch would not be Rafaello’s most pressing goal, Glory reddened to the roots of her hair with shame. ‘Nothing doing. I’m going home. I told you that. This was an accident—’
‘An…accident?’ Rafaello repeated in thunderous disbelief.
‘Like when you take your eyes off the road and crash!’ Glory stressed shakily, almost being eaten alive by the strength of her own self-loathing.
The lift doors swept back with an electronic beep of warning, exposing them to all onlookers. There was a crush of bodies waiting outside but their impatient surge forward was arrested by the sight of the male within. A sea of wildly curious faces stared in at Rafaello and Glory.
Glory lurched into frantic motion. She pushed her way through the stilled crowd and then raced across the busy ground-floor foyer for the exit doors. She ran a good half of the way back to the train station and then, winded and barely able to catch her breath, was forced to halt her mad flight and walk instead.
However, the sense of panic and severe embarrassment induced by what she had allowed to happen between herself and Rafaello was in no way lessened. How could she have behaved like that? One minute telling him she had only come back to give him a piece of her mind, the next winding herself round him like the weakest of choking vines. Talk about handing out conflicting signals!
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