Rochelle Alers - Taken by Storm

She placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Let me talk to my sister alone before I make the introductions."

"Okay. I'll be over there." He pointed to a corner where bowlers had left their bags.

Smiling, Simone approached her sister. Tessa's fiancé, Micah Sanborn, stood up and kissed her cheek. "Hey, Simone. How's it going?"

She returned the kiss, smiling at the tall, dark, handsome and incredibly masculine Kings County assistant district attorney whom she'd come to regard as her brother. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a navy-and-white-striped rugby shirt.

"It's all good," she lied smoothly. "How's your family?"

"They're well, thank you. By the way, my folks wanted me to ask you if you're available Sunday to come for a cookout. Faith and Ethan have already committed."

Tessa Whitfield stood up and hugged her sister. Two years younger than Simone, she was taller and darker in coloring and the modified flyway Afro hairstyle she'd worn for years was replaced with a short chic cut that flattered her soft, delicate features. Light caught the sparkle of blue-white prisms in the magnificent cushion-cut center diamond on her left hand.

"Please say you're coming, Simone. Micah and I are spending the night at his parents' house after we leave Faith and Ethan. You can come with us, and that way you won't have to drive back to White Plains just to turn around and come back to Jersey the next day."

Simone met Micah's intense dark gaze, and knew he was waiting for her answer. She gave him a warm smile. "Excuse me, Micah, but I need to tell Tessa something before I commit."

Tessa gave her a perplexed look. "What's the matter?"

"Come with me," she said cryptically. Taking Tessa by the hand, she pulled her away from the people who'd begun crowding into the neighboring lanes. In another fifteen minutes, balls would be hurtled with astonishing speed, drowning out conversations.

Rafe took a step when he saw Simone with a woman who looked enough like her to be her sister, but settled back against the wall when he realized they weren't moving out of his line of vision.

He watched Tessa Whitfield's expression change as Simone whispered close to her ear. After a full minute, both women turned and stared at him. He acknowledged Tessa with a barely perceptible nod before she threw her arms around Simone's neck. He mentally concluded that Simone and Tessa must have incredibly attractive parents to have produced not one, but two beautiful daughters. Straightening to his full height he was ready when Simone led Tessa over to him.

She extended her hand. "Hello, Rafe. I'm Tessa Whitfield, your girlfriend's sister. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Rafe shook her hand. "The pleasure is mine, Tessa." He noticed their voices were similar, but Simone claimed a slightly lower register.

"Come, Rafe. I'd like you to meet my fiancé before we start bowling."

He wasn't certain what Simone had told her sister, but if she was going to pass him off as her boyfriend then he would willingly play out the charade until the game ended. What he didn't want to think about was kissing her again. He knew Simone hadn't been expecting the kiss, but once his mouth touched hers he hadn't wanted to stop.

Rafe's gaze swept over Micah Sanborn. He was tall, slender, with close-cropped dark hair sprinkled with flecks of gray. Although he wasn't in uniform there was something about the way he carried himself that silently blared Cop! Once a cop, always a cop. He wondered if it would be same with him when he retired.

Tessa looped her arm through Micah's. "I'd like you to meet Simone's boyfriend, Raphael Madison. Rafe, my fiancé, Micah Sanborn."

Smiling, Micah gave him a firm handshake. "Nice meeting you, Rafe. Is it Rafe or Raphael?"

"Rafe will do."

Micah's dark, penetrating eyes took in everything about Raphael Madison in one sweeping glance. "Are you on the job?"

Rafe knew he was asking if he was a cop. "How did you know?"

"After putting in twenty years on the force, I can spot one fifty feet away."

"What are you doing now?" Rafe asked, not admitting or denying he was in law enforcement.

"I'm a Kings County ADA."

"I'd like to talk—"

"Yo, Sandy, you guys are short one man tonight," called out Justin Jamison, a short, but solidly built man with a shaved head. "Harris had a collar, so he's stuck at the station with paperwork."

Micah stared at Rafe. "Do you bowl?"

"Not in a while."

"Do you mind filling in tonight?" Micah asked

Rafe preferred bowling to standing around looking and acting like a bodyguard. "I wouldn't mind at all." Placing a hand on Simone's shoulder as she sat changing her shoes, he leaned over her. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to be your bowling partner tonight."

She wrinkled her nose. "If you spoil our winning streak I'm going to hurt you, Rafe Madison." Not only was her team undefeated, but she and Micah had earned highest league scores among the men and women.

"Whatcha gonna do to me, baby?" he whispered.

"You don't want to know." She gave him a sassy grin when he winked at her.

Knowing no one was going to harm Simone with dozens of police officers around her, Rafe went to select a pair of shoes and a ball. It was apparent she'd adjusted to her present situation because she was smiling more than scowling, joking rather than protesting. He'd enjoyed cooking with her, even if he'd done most of it.

Simone was on her feet, her gaze fixed intently on Rafe. Whenever it was his turn to bowl, those in nearby lanes stopped whatever they were doing to watch him. She wasn't certain whether it was technique or luck, but the results were awesome. He'd just bowled his seventh consecutive strike.

"I'm impressed," she said, complimenting him when he sat down. "And I'll have you know that I'm not very easily impressed."

A dazzling smile deepened the lines around his eyes. "Neither am I."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've impressed me, too."

Simone gave him a skeptical look. "I'm not the one on track to bowl a perfect game."

"Have you ever bowled a three hundred?"

Shaking her head, Simone watched Tessa's follow-through. She'd knocked down her spare. "I've come close. What about you?"

Rafe lifted a broad shoulder. "I've done it once or twice."

NYPD Sergeant Justin Jamison took a long swallow from a bottle of beer, narrowing his gaze at Rafe. "Look, Sandy, you know the rules. No ringers."

Simone popped up like a jack-in-the-box. "Who are you calling a ringer, Justin?"

He'd asked her out once, and she'd accepted. Although divorced, he couldn't stop talking about his ex-wife. And what Justin refused to understand when he called to ask Simone out again was why she'd turned him down. It was apparent he was unable to accept rejection because after that he'd suddenly turned on her as if she were a bitter enemy.

The homicide detective glared at her. "I wasn't talking to you, Curly Sue."

Rafe rose slowly to his feet and took Simone's arm. Even though he didn't need Simone to defend him he wasn't going to stand by and let the obviously inebriated man get in her face.

"Look, man, you need to watch your mouth," he threatened softly.

Micah shot the man a warning look. "And I think you should lay off the beer." A female vice detective forcibly pried the beer bottle from Justin's hand.

The others on Jamison's team groaned in unison while rolling their eyes at him. "What the hell are you looking at?" he asked his teammates.

The vice detective rubbed Jamison's shaved head, then kissed it. "They're spanking us, Sarge, so suck it up."

"Let go of my arm, Rafe," Simone whispered angrily when he steered her a short distance away.

"Only if you promise me you won't go after someone who's had a little too much to drink."