Jill Shalvis - Bared

“When did you know?”

“When I saw your face.”

“After we got off the plane?”

“I tried to see you before, but you were good at keeping your face averted on the ride up here.”

She looked out to the valley again, then sighed. “I don’t know why that sticks with me-that you see me when no one else does.”

“You’re softer than Amber.”

She stared at him; she slowly shook her head.

“Sweeter.”

“Stop it.”

“And your breathing changes when you look at me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Really?” He shifted subtly closer. Anyone looking at them would have sworn they were just having an easy conversation, heads together so that they could hear each other over the roar of the Cessna’s engines starting.

But with his shoulders and body blocking Emma from view, he stroked his hand up her back, then slowly back down, applying just enough pressure that she had no choice but to take the last step between them. Her hand came up against his chest to brace herself and, in the guise of telling her something, he leaned in and nuzzled just beneath her ear.

That she let out a shaky breath, that he felt her shiver, told him everything he needed to know.

“How did the writing go last week?” he murmured. “Between the pool shoot and now?”

“I-”

When he nibbled her throat, she let out a helpless moan that reverberated through him and was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

“-I can’t think with your mouth on me, Rafe.”

He lifted his head and smiled at her, his hand still low on her back, fingers spread wide to touch as much of her as possible. “I like it when you say my name like that, just a little breathless.” He stroked her again. “Tell me about the writing.”

“If you believe that I can think with your hands on me, think again.”

“Hey, I can’t even think when you’re standing right here in front of me.”

That seemed to surprise her, but why, he had no idea. Did she really think she didn’t affect him?

“I called you,” he said.

“I know.” She glanced over at the plane, where everyone had loaded but them. No one seemed to notice the two of them talking. “I wasn’t sure I’d be seeing you again.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah.” She looked into his eyes then. “Here I am.” She dropped her gaze to his mouth. The wind had loosened a couple of strands of her hair, one of which clung to his jaw. He left it there, a damn good sign of how far gone over this woman he was.

“You asked me about the writing.” Her eyes lit with wry humor. “The executives at the studio didn’t know what to make of all the sex I put on the page. They told me to keep doing whatever it was I was doing to get inspired.”

Rafe grinned, and the hand he had low on her back drifted a little lower, brushing over the very sweet curve of her butt, squeezing once before rising again. “Keeping you inspired would be my pleasure.”

She looked intrigued, but also slightly wary again. “We’ve got to get on board,” she said, eyeing the pilot talking to two men from inside the airport. He was shaking his head and consulting his clipboard, and he didn’t look happy. “I think they’re waiting on us.”

“I have an idea.”

She eyed him. “Yes, well, I have an idea what your idea is.”

He laughed. “I’m capable of thinking of something other than sex.”

Looking doubtful, she cocked her head and studied his expression. “I’m going to be sorry I asked, but what’s your idea?”

“Stay with me here in Tahoe tonight.”

“I thought this was an idea about something other than sex.”

“It is. We’ll find something fun to do, have a great meal, and then go to a bed and breakfast. Fly home tomorrow, instead.”

She blinked. “That sounds like a date. A very long one.”

With his mouth so close to her ear, he could breathe her in with every breath. He kissed her neck, felt her tremor and knew they had to follow this through. “After everything else we’ve done, don’t you think a date would be almost tame?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know…”

“You wanted hot and wild. Granted, you got a nice start on it, and I had to take cold showers all week, but there’s more, so much more-” He laughed softly when she blushed. “Don’t be shy now. Come on, Emma, aren’t you in the least bit curious about the rest? I mean, we practically burn each other up just from kissing. Let’s see where this goes.”

“You’re talking physically.”

He knew she’d shy away from more, plus he wasn’t ready to go there, either. “Yes.”

Her gaze had drifted out to the mountains again and then she brought it back to him. “In the name of research.”

“Does that make you feel better? To call it something other than what it is, which is an attraction, a deep one?”

She let out a huff of air but had the good grace to smile. “I believe it does.”

“Whatever works for you, then. I just…want you.”

“Rafe-” She was still smiling, but she was going to say no, he could feel it.

But then the pilot appeared at their side, his clipboard gripped tight in his fist. “They’re saying we’re overloaded. They’ll let on one more person, but then we’re at maximum capacity.”

Rafe craned his neck and looked at the plane. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know, sir. Maybe you all ate too much while you were here.” He offered a feeble smile.

They must have flown up here overloaded. Rafe thought about all the small plane tragedies he’d ever heard about, and felt a little sick.

“Someone’s got to stay,” the pilot said apologetically. “I’ll charter another flight for whoever does, or come back for them myself.”

Emma looked at the plane, then around them at the incredible landscape, and finally, back at Rafe. Without taking her eyes off him, she said to the pilot, “The two of us can stay.”

“Only one of you needs to,” the pilot said.

“But two of us are going to.” Rafe held Emma’s gaze.

“Thank you,” their pilot said sincerely, clearly relieved to have the problem solved without trouble.

Rafe smiled at Emma, who smiled back, albeit tremulously.

She was unsure and, honestly, he felt the same. They had a large expanse of time stretching out in front of them, to do whatever they wanted.

The only problem was, he wasn’t sure it would be long enough.

THE TRUCKEE/TAHOE AIRPORT was about ten miles outside of Lake Tahoe, in the small, quaint town of Truckee. They’d gotten hotel rooms, found the town, and had changed before going for dinner. They decided on the restaurant in the lovely hotel downtown where they were staying, a historical building rich in Old West detail. Their waitress told them that one hundred years ago, there’d been saloon fights in the dining room on a daily basis and a brothel upstairs.

Now, after years of neglect, the place had been recently renovated. With its buttery walls and soft lighting, it was a perfect setting for intimate dining.

But Emma didn’t know if she was ready for intimate.

Before they had come in here, they’d walked around downtown. Commercial Row was filled with galleries, eateries and unique little shops that had kept them entertained for a few hours. Now darkness had fallen, cloaking them in that strange sense of isolation Rafe always provided.

She sipped her wine while they waited for their food, and looked at the tall, dark and mouthwateringly gorgeous man sitting across from her. With the candlelight glowing over his dark, dark hair and his rugged, tanned features, she could imagine him sitting there one hundred years ago, looking for trouble, then possibly going upstairs to visit the brothel.