It took her a half second to reply with the lustful jolt shimmering through her senses in a totally outrageous give-it-to-me now response. But the blue of her eyes sparked flame hot when she snapped, “Our messages must have crossed then, because I distinctly remember telling you I don’t take orders. That includes me telling you everything I’m thinking in advance.”
“So is it two weeks or a month?” he growled.
“If you don’t change your damned tone, it’ll be two minutes.”
Rafe slid his thumbs under the bikini bottom and gently stroked her silky wetness. “Two minutes?” His smile was knowing. “I’m guessing a pussy this wet is going to want longer than that.”
“Stop it,” she snapped, attempting to draw away.
Hooking his thumbs in her slick heat, he dragged her back. “Liar,” he whispered, the single word uttered in a low, husky, obscenely sexy tone, the soft assertion rich with authority, making her squirm and turn liquid around his fingers. “You like that?” he said, amused. “Or are you just glad to see me?” His thumbs stroked up and down, gently, deftly, divinely, while she melted inside, grew slippery with longing, and tried not to openly pant.
Rafe shot a quick look toward the bar. “Give us some privacy,” he said in Italian. “Go.”
Jack smiled at Fiona. “Want to fly somewhere?”
Fiona didn’t understand Italian, but Rafe’s sharp, staccato delivery had been clear. “One stupid question first, and it really doesn’t matter, but are you really a prince?”
Jack grinned. “I’d better be or I’m going to have to send back all the monogrammed towels.”
“Perfect,” Fiona said cheerfully. Turning to Nicole, Fiona raised her voice enough to be heard across the large salon. “Hey, babe, are you going to be okay if I leave for a few days?”
“She’ll be fine,” Rafe answered crisply.
Fiona touched Jack’s hand. “Be right back.”
As Fiona walked toward them, Rafe turned back to Nicole. “Don’t fucking move,” he murmured and pressed both thumbs down on her swollen clit with flawless dexterity.
Stifling a gasp, reality momentarily eclipsed by a wild, scorching delirium, Nicole suddenly wondered if the awesome pleasure Rafe offered was worth forfeiting her independence. Quintessentially willful, however, the answer was only briefly in doubt, and drawing in a small breath, she said, “Maybe I’ll leave with Fiona.”
His expression held a hint of triumph. “No you won’t, because you want me to put my big, stiff dick in your wet pussy and get you off.” Swiftly rolling his wrist, he slid his index and middle finger palm-deep into her sleek, pulsing warmth and at her shocked surprise, whispered, “Just. Like. That.” Then smoothly withdrawing his fingers, he sat back and casually wiped them on his shorts.
With Fiona drawing near, Nicole suppressed her shudder and tried not to think about how desperately she wanted to screw the egotistical prick. That Rafe was watching her, clear-eyed and brilliantly relaxed, made her unspeakably pissed and shamelessly horny. Damn, his quiet arrogance was hot.
Fiona stopped at Nicole’s chair and not entirely sure she wasn’t in the midst of a war zone, asked cautiously, “Are you going to stay or come with us?”
“I haven’t decided,” Nicole said, when, of course, she had, with her libido full speed ahead in its not-to-be-missed rendezvous with destiny.
Rafe couldn’t recall a woman ever challenging him—acquiescence the rule when it came to the females in his life—and he briefly wondered if he’d be picking up the tab for a holiday that didn’t include him. Probably not—actually no way in hell—because he wasn’t going to let her leave without him. Nicole Parrish intrigued him, made him curious to discover what made her different. Although it might just be her prickly defiance that made him hard.
Whatever the reason, a swift adjustment to the personal dynamic was required. Lowering his voice, Rafe said softly, “I’m really sorry.” Reaching out, he touched Nicole’s fingers where they lay on the chair arm. “I’ll apologize any way you wish. I had no right to take offense. Forgive me?” His golden gaze was warm, his smile innocent as a child’s. “Two weeks is perfect.”
Nicole stared at him for a second, then a small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, then broadened a moment later to light up her eyes. “Goddamn, you’re smooth, Contini. Even better than my younger brother when he wants to drive my car.”
Rafe returned her appealing smile. “You can drive my car—cars, yachts, planes, choppers. Anytime. Anywhere.”