The Secret Sister. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.
there, but not for some years, at least not to my knowledge.”
“I don’t think I ever learned what happened to your father.”
“He was a dietician and personal trainer. He’d just quit his job to open his own gym when he was robbed and stabbed only a few feet from the warehouse space he’d rented for his new business. That’s why my mother came here. She wanted to get away from the crime, out of the big city.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Four.”
They’d both lost their fathers young. “That’s sad.”
He lifted his shoulders as if to say it was in the past. “She really should’ve remarried.”
“She still lives on the island, then?”
“Hasn’t moved since she brought me and my brother here.”
Maisey didn’t remember either of the Romero boys from elementary school or Fairham High. They’d both graduated before she entered ninth grade. But she’d heard of them. They’d been popular in high school, especially with the girls. Then there was the trouble they caused—partying, ditching school, getting in minor scrapes with the law. Rafe’s reputation was part of the reason she’d been so interested when she finally met him. That he was sinfully good-looking didn’t hurt, either. “How long has your mother had arthritis?”
He gave her a look that suggested he was finished answering her questions. “How is this turning into a conversation about me? You’re the one who slept out on the beach.”
Maisey had no intention of discussing how she’d spent the night. “I’m curious, like I said.”
“About my mother?”
“More about your daughter. I saw her this morning, and I still can’t imagine you as a father.”
He frowned. “Why would I be any different than other men? Do you think I eat children for dinner?”
It felt odd to smile. Her mouth was so out of practice. And yet, since he’d come this morning, she found herself smiling quite often. “Maybe not every night.”
“Great,” he responded with a grimace. “In your mind, I’m not only a failure in bed, I can’t be trusted with a child.”
“You told me you’ve changed, grown up.” She slid down the counter to get out of the sunlight streaming through the window. She was also trying to avoid the scent of his cologne. She thought that might be what was wreaking havoc with her mind. She didn’t like when a man used too much, but there was just a hint of it on Rafe and, otherwise, he smelled so clean. “I’m willing to take your word for it.”
“You wouldn’t have to take my word for all of it.”
She paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “And that means...”
She saw a devilish expression on his face. “Not if you’ll go put that wet T-shirt back on.”
She could tell he didn’t expect her to take him seriously. He meant to shock her, make her uncomfortable—teach her a lesson for insulting him. But she felt more tingly and breathless than outraged. That was the real shock. Forcing her gaze away before he realized she was more susceptible to that suggestion than she cared to admit, she said, “You had your chance eighteen years ago.”
“When I was drunk off my ass and wasn’t expecting to be propositioned? Especially by an underage virgin who told me she was eighteen?”
“That was a pretty detailed recap,” she retorted. “So much for forgetting...”
“You haven’t forgotten,” he said. “You’re still holding me accountable for that night, assuming I haven’t changed or couldn’t have changed enough to suit you. I’m trying to tell you it was hardly a fair test of my ability.”
“Don’t act like I didn’t give you another opportunity,” she said. “I approached you the following week, remember? And you turned me down.”
Hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he crossed his ankles. “You were too young.”
“And you had too many other girls throwing themselves at you.”
“Who were older,” he said, as if any guy would’ve made the same choice.
She took another spoonful of cereal. “You didn’t want me. Admit it.”
He studied her for several seconds. “You expected the world to bow at your feet. That’s hardly an aphrodisiac.”
“Ah, the Lazarow thing again. You’re intimidated by my name.”
“I’m not intimidated in the least. Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “You are one of the ‘untouchables.’”
She chuckled. “Well, for the record, you were right to reject me. I was angry and acting out, had no clue what I was doing.”
“You’d never make that mistake now...”
“No.”
“Because you’re the one who isn’t interested in me.”
Unsure where he was going with this, she stopped eating. “True.”
“Bullshit.”
She forced down her last swallow. “You don’t believe me?”
“I think I can tell when a woman finds me attractive. You look away whenever I catch your eye, which is a pretty reliable sign. You’ve just changed, lost the moxie you once had, that’s all.”
She wished she could laugh, scoff at him. This was an outrageous conversation. She wasn’t even sure how she’d fallen into it, or how it had progressed so far so fast. She’d seen Rafe for the first time in years only yesterday. But he was right: she was as attracted to him as she’d ever been. And she’d felt so little of anything positive in the past two years she didn’t know how to handle the sudden influx of hormones.
She did, however, know better than to let on. “Don’t tell me you’ve already been through all the other women on the island.”
“A womanizer like me?” He scowled facetiously. “I went through them years ago.”
“You wouldn’t want to quit too soon. You’re bound to find a glutton for punishment here and there.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “A glutton for punishment?”
She should’ve heeded the warning in his voice. But he’d started this little battle. She felt she should be able to give as good as she got. “Women who don’t mind a man who can only last thirty seconds or so.”
Assuming she’d landed the coup de grâce, she smiled sweetly. No way could he outdo that. But she shouldn’t have taunted him, shouldn’t have taken it so far. The look that entered his eyes as he stepped forward and boxed her in made her realize she’d thrown out a challenge he was more than willing to meet.
“We’ve talked about the special circumstances of that night,” he murmured, his face just inches from hers.
“That’s true. And—” growing a bit nervous, she cleared her throat but would not allow herself to be intimidated into backing down “—and I promise I won’t tell anyone how badly it went. Your secret is safe with me.”
She stopped laughing when he took her bowl and set it on the counter. “How about you let me make it up to you instead?” he said, and lowered his head to kiss her.
Maisey knew she should push him away. He was being assertive, going after what he wanted. But the way he was pressing his lips to hers so gently, coaxing her to respond with the barest slip of his tongue, gave her plenty of opportunity to refuse.
If only she