One side of Raphael’s body was chilled by the sea breeze, the other soaked in heat from the tub—desire hanging over him like a storm cloud. He didn’t move forward, didn’t pull back, just watched her, waiting to see what she would do next.
Grace’s cheeks were tinged with pink, her eyes glassy and glistening like rippling water. His hand had long stilled against her back—just enough to stir her heart, but not enough to settle it. He left her floating in that sweet torment.
She bit her lower lip, too flustered to speak. She’d had the upper hand just a moment ago, and now the tables had completely turned.
Raphael’s gaze didn’t waver. He lifted a thumb to gently brush her lip. “Don’t bite,” he said, voice low. “You’re gonna make it bleed.”
He was dying to take over—he wanted to be the one b
