Marie Ferrarella - One Night with a Tempting Playboy - From Playboy to Papa! / The Legendary Playboy Surgeon / Unwrapping the Playboy

Rafe frowned at the letter. “How did she know about Joel? And what is this about Leo? Leo died in the same train accident as my father.” He shook his head. “She must be confused.”

“Is everything else correct?” Nicole asked.

“Yes, but—” He shook his head. “Leo in Pennsylvania. Hmmm.” He looked at the photos again, his gaze hungry. “These are the only photos of my family. What I would give for more.”

The intense emotion in his eyes grabbed at something inside her. Rafe had told her before how much he missed having photos from his family. The way he drank in the sight of those photos cut through her.

“You should make copies of those. You wouldn’t want to lose them.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I’ll scan them, too.” He paused. “You have no idea how many nights I spent wishing for just one photograph of my parents. After they died and my brothers and I were divided up, it was as if my foster family wanted to pretend my other family never existed. After a while, it became like a dream. With no photographs, I had no proof.”

Nicole felt her eyes sting with tears, her throat knot into a well of emotion. “I have something I’d like to give you,” she said. “I’ll be back in a couple of moments.”

Gnawing on her lip, she climbed the stairs and checked on Joel before she went to her suite.

She turned on her laptop and reviewed the report the P.I. had sent her. The assault charges still made her heart stutter, but she realized that Rafe had a good explanation.

She continued through the pdf file and looked at the newspaper article reporting the death of Anthony Medici. A photograph of the Medici family accompanied the article. In it, she saw four boys with dark curly hair standing in front of a tall dark-haired man and a slim woman. She wondered if Rafe even knew this photo existed.

Eyeing the printer on the desk, she printed off the photo and trimmed away the article describing his family tragedy. She took the photo downstairs and gave it to him. He studied the photograph in surprise, then met her gaze.

“Where did you find this?” he asked in a low voice.

She crossed her arms under her chest. “That’s a rather involved story for this time of night.”

“I’m not sleeping and neither are you,” he said, standing and resting one of his hands on his hip.

She dreaded telling him where she’d found the photo, but knew it had to be done. “Do you remember how you paid a P.I. to do a background check on me?”

“Yeah,” he said, studying her and nodding in understanding. “You did the same to me. Learn anything interesting?”

“It mostly just confirmed everything you’ve told me,” she said, resisting a sudden urge to fidget.

“It’s late, so let’s not beat around the bush. What bothered you? That I didn’t graduate from an Ivy League school? That my family didn’t come over on the Mayflower?”

“The assault charges,” she said, tired of hiding her worries.

Realization crossed his face. “From my bouncer days. Yeah. I told you it was my job to escort out-of-control customers from the premises. Unfortunately, by the time they got out of control, they didn’t go willingly. The charges were all dropped,” he said.

“Right,” she said, wishing that was enough to calm all her fears. “But Tabitha told me you were a bully. She said you were controlling.”

“You keep saying that.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “She didn’t tell you that I hit her, did she? I’ve never touched a woman that way. What the hell else did she tell you?”

“She didn’t say you hit her, but she kept calling you a bully,” she said.

“That’s what all these questions about assault have been about all along, right?” he asked, his voice filled with bitterness.

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt Joel. I had to protect him. She said you were like our father,” she finally said.

He shrugged. “What does that mean? The only thing I know about your father is that he’s a snob and a successful businessman. I’m no snob, but I’ve done well with my business.”

“My father abused us,” she said, unable to keep it in any longer. “That’s why I avoid him. It’s why my mother left him. She got a huge settlement if she agreed not to reveal how many times he’d slapped her. Tabitha was much better at playing him than I was. He hit her a few times, but most of the time I was the target.”

He stared at her. “Your father did that? He beat you?” he asked.

Her heart twisted at the disbelief in his voice. “Don’t ask me to prove it. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. That’s why I had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt Joel. I would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen to him.”

He met her gaze. “I believe you. I’m not a violent man, but I would like to beat the crap out of him for touching a hair on your head.”

She took a deep breath and felt a sinking sense of relief. “So, now, maybe you understand why I want to make sure that you won’t harm Joel.”

“I would never,” he said, moving toward her. “And I would never harm you. I can’t promise, however, that I wouldn’t hurt someone who threatened Joel or you.”

She took another breath. “Hopefully that won’t happen.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth. “I wish I knew why your sister lied about me.”

Distracted by his touch, Nicole tried to summon a reason for Tabitha’s actions. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I wish I knew, too.”

“She was wild when I first met her. I caught her taking some pills one time when we first started seeing each other. I made her swear she would stop. I thought I would be a stabilizing influence. I asked her to marry me. I thought I could help turn her around,” he said.

Although Tabitha had kept her drug usage secret, Nicole had suspected that her sister had dabbled in drugs. After Joel had been born, she’d held her breath in hopes that he hadn’t been affected.

“I always thought she was the stronger one,” she said. “When we were growing up, she would challenge my father for anything.”

“He didn’t abuse her?” he asked.

“Very rarely, but she somehow was able to dance around his anger. I still don’t know how she did it,” Nicole said.

“But you took the brunt of it,” he concluded, his voice full of disgust.

“I don’t know why. I tried to be invisible, but it didn’t work. I was always so relieved to go back to boarding school so I could be away from him.” She glanced at him. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”

He looked at her, perplexed. “Ungrateful?”

“I was very fortunate that my parents were wealthy enough to send me to the best schools. I received health care and education.”

“You were also abused. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.”

“I’ll remind you,” he said, moving closer to her, taking her into his arms.

Nicole slumped against him, inhaling his strength. She gave in to the urge to lift her hands to his hair and savored the sensation of his crisp hair in her fingers.

“This isn’t wise,” she said, but couldn’t stop herself from leaning against him.

“I disagree,” he said. “It feels right,” he said and dipped his head, taking her mouth with his.

Nicole clung to him, wishing she could inhale all of him, all of his strength so that she would never feel weak or vulnerable again.

“I want to stay with you tonight,” he muttered against her throat.

He heart quickened. “Rafe,” she said, torn in different directions.

“Tell me you don’t want me to stay,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I do,” she said, but forced herself to step away from him. She didn’t want to confuse Joel if—when Rafe lost interest in her. “But being with you is just going to make things more complicated. We can’t do this.”