Chapter 6

"H oly hell," he whistles and a part of me loves the response but the commonsense side of me, which is still repulsed by the knowledge that he's seeing someone, drowns it out.

"Ready for dinner?" I ask trying to sound as normal as possible.

"I am but I don't know if the restaurant is ready for you. You look…different. Not in a bad way, I mean wow . It's a good thing you don't wear something like that to work. We'd be having fights left and right as they fought over who would get to open the door for you."

"Flatterer," I tell him fluttering my eyelashes.

"Is there a reason for the change in style? Don't get me wrong you look unbelievable but it's seems a bit fast."

"Well this isn't exactly a work situation now is it?" I smile turning the charm up one tiny notch at a time, so I don't overwhelm him. "We've been working pretty much non-stop, and those situations dictated work clothes but this, well, this is the real Amelia."

"Then I say hello and politely ask if she's ready to eat," he says with a hint of hesitation.

Goody, my plans working already I muse gleefully, and as we step into the restaurant, I realize that Rafe was right, this place wasn't ready for me. Most of the diners were staying in the hotel, and most of them were businessmen, I could pick out the groups of accountants, lawyers, salesmen and such easily enough and out of them there were at least a dozen who sat up straighter as I walked over to the table letting the ma?tre d' seat me.

Well this should be easier than I expected. Rafe orders a bottle of wine and I glance at the menu, most of the items were pretentious wannabe-an-elite-eatery so I stuck with something basic but made enough changes to the normal add-ons that Rafe was taken back with my tediousness.

When the food arrived, I let Rafe take over the conversation, which worked out well. He wanted to know about me, so I told him, exaggerating a bit here and there, but sticking close enough to the truth that I could sound authentic. I told him about my sky diving, mountain climbing, and jet skiing adventures but let them all sound like dates instead of days spent with my family or friends.

By the time we headed back upstairs, I had the waiter ready to propose marriage, the ma?tre d' completely bemused, and the cook ready to kill me or throw me down onto the floor and ravish me if his eyes were to be believed. Rafe didn't say a word from the moment we left the restaurant until we reached the room. He opened the door wide letting me in first. Then stepped inside behind me and locked the door, loosening his tie before tossing it onto the coffee table.

"That was quite a performance," he finally said, and I momentarily lower my lashes to block my surprise.

"What are you talking about?" I ask feigning shock.

"At first I wasn't sure what you were up to, but by the time you flat-out let the waiter make a pass in front of me, I'd figured it out. So would you like to tell me why you were acting like a flirt, tease… cocktail waitress when that's not the real you."

"I'm sorry, you've known me what, two weeks? You don't have a clue how I act outside of work," I tell him defensively.

"No? Then let me tell you who I think the real Amelia is. The real Amelia knows how utterly desirable she is but doesn't take advantage of it. Instead she uses her undeniable charm when she needs to get her way, for example when waiting on jerks in a strip club. The real Amelia doesn't give every man in the world the impression she wants them. She gives them the impression that if she does, you'd be the luckiest man in that world."

I try to hide my surprise and the fluttery dance my heart does but I'm not entirely successful.

"The real Amelia," he continues, "she's smart, attentive to details and can spot a line of BS before it's even uttered. The real Amelia is sexy without the aid of clothes but when she does put them on, she knows how to wear them and not let them wear her."

I shake my head trying to get him to stop. I can't listen to any more of this, because my resolve will crack, and I know I'll end up in his bed. He's already got someone, someone it appears that he loves, so why is he doing this to me? It'd be one thing if it was just to sleep with me, and if that's all he wanted, he wouldn't begin to have waited two weeks to try it, and he mos certainly wouldn't be spouting off the sweetest things in the world my way.

"The real Amelia is confident and competent in her work; she doesn't question her decisions because she knows exactly where they'll lead. The real Amelia is caring, daring, but wise; she doesn't stupidly put herself in harm's way or take unnecessary chances. The real Amelia isn't scared of her sexuality, but she also doesn't let it let it rule her. But most importantly, the real Amelia is scared to death of love and anytime it gets too close to her, she runs."

I have nothing—no words, no sounds, no breath to argue or deny that everything he just said wasn't right.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he states, holding my gaze intently. "Tell me that everything I just said isn't true and I'll let you go to your room. We'll forget everything that happened today. I'll pretend you're engaged, and you can pretend I didn't kiss you and tell you how unbelievably beautiful you are."

"Rafe, this is crazy, we don't know each other. I don't know if you're seeing anyone else and you don't know what I want out of life. Where I want to be in five, ten years, and I don't know if you're interested in anything other than sex."

"Isn't that the point of dating, to get to know the other person, figure out if there's hope for the future," he argues with me.

"I don't date, and especially not someone who's already seeing someone," I tell him.

"You're talking about the phone call earlier, aren't you? It was my ex-wife, and we don't have the best relationship. I'm not seeing anyone, don't have anyone special in my life—except for my daughter," he says and every thought I had about him suddenly shifts.

"Your daughter?" I say in shock and amazement. "You have a daughter?"

"I do, she's eight and the joy of my life, being away from her for two weeks is rough but everything I do is for her." The look on his face is the same one I saw earlier this evening when he looked at his phone and I finally understood where I'd seen that look before, it was the same way my father looked at me.

"Rafe I…I don't know what to say. You're right I've been running from love ever since I was a teenager. If someone showed interest in me, I would panic and sabotage it. I don't know why," I hedged, not about to get into that conversation with anyone, ever. "Then I started working at the club and I saw so many men who were supposedly good guys, smart businessmen that were loyal and honest, but put a half-naked woman in front of them, supply ‘em with a couple beers and they turned into sex crazed pre-pubescents again."

"Where does that leave us?" he whispers to me.

"Here…at the beginning of something I'm not sure I'm ready for," I admit.

"I'm willing to take a chance if you are, but I think we should take it slow. Which means that you should go put something else on that doesn't make my blood race."

"Is my dress too revealing for you?" I tease, completely unsure of where it came from, but I enjoy it entirely.

"It's too revealing for a blind man," he says. The gaze he gives me on top of it is hot enough it could burn down an entire village. "Which is exactly why you should change; I don't want to rush you…or me in this. I'm not afraid to admit that this scares me as much as it does you. I've been married and divorced, and I have my daughter to think about now. I've taken care to keep my personal relationships out of the office and away from her, but I can't keep you separate from work. I don't want to, baby."

I honestly don't know what to say, that sweet endearment makes my heart race wildly, so I simply kiss his cheek and head for my room. I stay there until the morning trying to figure out what to do with our situation but even in the morning light, I'm still unaware of what action to take. Part of me wants to say yes, to let us discover what's between us, but the rest of me wants to keep my heart exactly as it is, to not risk its safety.

I manage to talk myself into a state of calmness, it's necessary in order to face Rafe over breakfast. The past few days have been hard enough but now knowing what it was like to kiss him, and the stupid thing, such as feelings, that had suddenly stolen over me was messing with my brain and causing me to panic.

Okay girl, get over it you're going to have to leave this room sooner or later and it'd be better if you did it on your own terms and not have him drag you out of here or worse, join you on that bed behind you. That's it, I mused as my startled body moved towards the door. If you stay here any longer, you'll end up dragging him onto the bed and that'll be bad.

I moved out of the ‘safety' of my room and headed to the kitchenette praying Rafe got up early and ordered breakfast already. Somehow, this prayer was received and answered. When I appeared in the doorway, Rafe was already sitting down, eating eggs and bacon, with a copy of the New York Times scattered across the table.

In unexpected clumsiness I managed to bang my elbow on the doorjamb, my muttered curse draws his attention upwards, and I pause just inside the door trying to decipher what his eyes are saying.

"Amelia," he says with a genuine smile, "I was beginning to think you'd escaped out the window."

"Considering we're on the twelfth floor I don't see that happening," comes out of my mouth and the awkwardness of the situation is broken.

"Just checking, after all, you're certainly a source of confusion and mystery," he answers, and I try not to read too much into it. After all, he seemed to know quite a bit about me last night.

"Anything from Charles yet?" I ask hoping to get things back on work footings. It won't do us much good if we're both still thinking about last night.

"Not yet but as you said they both see the intelligence behind our proposal," he said turning back to the newspaper. "Sit down and eat…you barely touched your food last night."

"I don't need another father," I state then bite the inside of my cheek, why did I just say that? Am I really looking for a fight?

"That's good," Rafe replies his eyes seeking mine, "because there's no way I'm going to apply for that position, and please stop thinking, we both agreed to take things slowly last night, right?"

I nod my head and open my breakfast plate scrambled eggs, two slices of bacon, and toast beckon me and I dig in, not resisting when he added some fruit to my plate from the large bowl he ordered. I can't find the nerve to look him in the eyes again. The one look had sent shivers up and down my spine and if the Farris' didn't accept the proposal I'd need to have my wits about me to come up with something that they would and more looks from Rafe would keep me distracted.

"Speaking of last night," Rafe hedged forcing my hand and sending another tingle through me when I connect with his gaze. "I'm assuming that you haven't changed your mind but if I'm wrong all you have to do is give the word and I'll find a way to work with you without…"

"Without what?" I ask when he remains silent for almost a minute.

"Without dragging you into the nearest closet and kissing you breathless," he finishes, and my heart does that fluttery thing again.

Images of him doing just that invade my thoughts and I know a blush is forming. I can feel the heat of it creep up my neck and I know no matter what I say at this moment it'll only end one way…with us kissing. Thankfully, his phone beeps and I'm able to escape from his magnetic presence as he moves into the other room to answer it.

I wonder if it's his daughter, or the ex, or maybe since his tone is neutral it's neither but instead the Farris or their attorney.

Stop thinking, goes through my brain, that's what Rafe told me, that's what I've told myself hundreds of times but for some reason I can't. Maybe it's my overactive fight-or-flight response to the feelings Rafe creates in me but every time something tiny happens, I make it into something bigger. That self-destruct button I hit whenever something scares me into feeling.

Okay you must be wondering why on earth I sabotage every relationship I have. It's hard to explain why. Maybe the idea of being in love is so much easier to handle than the actual prospect. One thing I do know is I'm petrified of falling, losing myself the way I've seen friends lose themselves and their independence when they become a ‘we' and I don't want that.

Rafe returns and my thoughts are put aside as sensations overtake me and then I see the smile on his face…victory!

"Charles?" I ask with a hint of a smile.

"It was and they want to see us for lunch today in order to sign over their shares of the company," he says, before pulling me out of my chair and giving me a huge bear hug. Totally professional you know, or not.

"That's awesome," I say once he sets me back on my feet. I'm slightly breathless and the smell of his aftershave fills my head begging me to step back into his arms, wrap mine around his neck, and kiss him for days.

"You're amazing," Rafe tells me, his eyes reflecting the desire that has to be shining in my own. "You were the key I needed."

"I don't know how to feel about that statement," I joke stepping around him to head to the sitting area and pull out a file that had the contract we'd need for the lunch meeting.

"It was supposed to be a compliment," he says following me, taking the file from my hands and bringing my gaze back to his.

"Yeah, it just feels a little odd to be referred to as a key…" I say trying to diffuse the always present tension.

"Then how would you feel being called my secret weapon?" he asked. "Who happened to be kept secret from even me?"

"It fits my personality better, after all you did call me one big secret," I reply despite knowing it'll lead somewhere I shouldn't let it.

"I'm looking forward to learning your secrets," Rafe states and that's it…I'm lost.

Somehow, I find myself in his arms being held securely but yet there's still room for me to wiggle out if I feel like it, but I don't, I want him to kiss me, even though I don't.

I don't make much sense, do I? I can't help it. It's Rafe, he muddles my brain sending me in twenty-nine different directions and I honestly don't know whether to laugh or cry about my lack of control when I'm with him.

"We shouldn't," I tell him even as his mouth descends towards me. I raise my hands to push him away but somehow they end up wrapped around his neck as our lips meet and it all disappears. The fight within myself to stay away from him, the sanity that I'd barely been holding onto, and most importantly any train of thought I might have had going through the back of my head.

The kiss, or maybe it should be labeled, The Kiss , since it was definitely a standout moment, changed everything I'd been prepared to do. I was going to let things cool between us until he realized it was a mistake, that we weren't thinking straight last night, and that it was simply the close quarters getting to us, making us think things that weren't really there, but that kiss…there's only one word to describe that kiss…insane.

Honestly it was, because all of the sanity I had escaped my possession with that kiss. It was entirely too slow, each minute movement of our lips seemed to take a decade to complete, and I was lost so deep inside it that I couldn't have found my way out with blinking exit signs in front of my face.

Rafe finally pulled me closer letting our bodies barely touch and it happened, I let him in.

No, not like that , I mean really, I'm not easy or anything. Well, I guess you already knew that didn't you, but I let him in. I stopped fighting myself and made the decision to go with the flow and be comfortable with where it leads—a terrifying prospect for me.