He waited until she stopped backing nervously away, gave her time to grow complacent, then moved so quickly she didn’t have time to react. He snagged her wrist and hauled her into his arms.
He captured her gasp with his first kiss, then settled in to discover exactly how she tasted, exactly how her lips felt beneath his. There was a lingering sweet taste of orange soda to her mouth, a willing pliancy to her lush lips.
Her body fit against his as if they’d been made for each other. Between the dousing his clothes had taken, the dampness of hers and the skyrocketing heat of that kiss, he was surprised they weren’t enveloped in steam.
It took a very long time—too long, by his own rigid standard of ethics—for him to discover everything he’d wanted to know about the taste and texture of her mouth. He released her suddenly and with tremendous reluctance, muttering a curse under his breath.
Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, she stared at him for a full minute and then the heat rose in her cheeks right along with a flash of temper in her eyes.
“You had no right to do that,” she snapped.
“No,” he said mildly. “You’re right. I didn’t. I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”
His admission and his apology seemed to throw her off stride.
“If you think that’s good enough to make me forget what just happened here, you’re crazy.”
Despite himself, he chuckled at that. “Yes, I imagine it will take a good deal more to make me forget it, too.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it,” she said with a scowl.
“Okay, let’s take a step back and reassess what just happened,” he suggested reasonably.
“Oh, don’t use that lawyerly tone with me. We both know what happened. You kissed me.”
“You provoked me.”
“I dumped water on you. If anything, that should have cooled off your libido, not inflamed it.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I obviously have a perverse streak.”
“How about saying ‘I’m sorry, it will never happen again,’” she suggested.
“I’ve already apologized.” He met her gaze. “And sadly I can’t promise it will never happen again.”
“You have to,” she said, sounding a little desperate.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do, because you have no business kissing me, because I have no business kissing you.” She frowned at him. “You think I’m a criminal, for heaven’s sake. Are you beginning to get the picture?”
Unfortunately, Rafe was, though he doubted it was the same picture she was getting. The one in his mind had him carting her straight off to bed to finish what they’d started. Given his belief that she was a thief, he figured that was a really, really lousy idea...and way too tempting at the moment. His very recent lapse in judgment was proof enough he couldn’t be trusted within fifty feet of her.
He reached in his pocket, took out her car keys and tossed them to her. She regarded him with surprise.
“How are you getting back to town?” she asked.
“The old-fashioned way,” he said, turning his back on her and striding away.
“Rafe, you can’t walk all the way back,” she protested, chasing after him. “You’ll die of heat stroke.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine.”
“You will not be fine. Don’t be stubborn. I’ll drive you back.”
He faced her. “How do I know you won’t try to ravish me the second we get to my motel?”
She gave him a wry look. “Oh, I think I can pretty well guarantee that you’re safe.”
He shrugged. “Okay, then, I trust you.”
She regarded him skeptically. “Oh, really?”
“About that, anyway.” He tapped a finger against the sunburned tip of her nose. “We’ll have to see about the rest. I’ll think it over while I’m walking.”
“I don’t suppose you could keep on going all the way back to New York and ponder the evidence there?” she asked wistfully.
“Not a chance.”
Gina heaved a resigned sigh. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
* * *
That blistering, mind-boggling kiss was still very much on Gina’s mind when she walked into the high school gym that night for the reunion dance. Spotting Rafe sitting all alone at one of the tables along the perimeter of the floor only accentuated the memory. For a man whose arrogance she had experienced firsthand, he looked surprisingly lonely. For a brief second, sympathy almost drove her over to talk to him.
“I’m not going anywhere near him,” she muttered, even as she began to drift in his direction. When she realized where she was going, she added wryly, “I obviously have the willpower of a nymphomaniac.”
“Who’s a nymphomaniac?” Lauren demanded, startling Gina.
“Nobody, I hope,” Gina retorted glumly, stopping in her tracks. She wasn’t entirely sure whether she was relieved by the distraction, which was yet another fact that was worrisome. Was it moths that couldn’t resist a flame and wound up dead because of it?
Lauren followed the direction of her gaze, then grinned. “Ah, yes, I heard about the kiss.”
“Heard about it?” Gina asked, horrified. “How? From whom?”
“Half the town was at the rodeo. Word gets around. My source says it was more entertaining than anything that went on inside the arena.”
Gina groaned. “Why did I do it? Why did I let him kiss me? And right out in public, yet! Wouldn’t you think I’d learned my lesson about getting mixed up with smooth talkers after what happened a few years ago in Rome?”
“Could you have stopped him?”
“Not at first,” she admitted. “He caught me by surprise, but later...”
Lauren’s eyes sparkled with growing amusement. “Later? Then it did go on and on, just the way I heard?”
“Okay, yes, it went on a very long time. It was a very good kiss. In fact, it was a terrific kiss, which is why I am in more trouble than I ever thought it was possible to get into. I want to kiss a man who—” She cut herself off before she could finish the revealing thought.
“Who what?” Lauren asked, clearly fascinated by Gina’s slip.
“Never mind,” Gina said dismissively. “Have you seen Cassie? Did she come tonight?”
“She’s here. She’s busy hiding out from Cole. Seems to me she has her own problems with steering clear of intoxicating kisses,” Lauren said. “And before you ask, Karen’s on the dance floor, and Emma’s out in the hallway on her cell phone. There’s some kind of emergency back in Denver. Hopefully she’s telling her boss or her client or whoever it is to take a hike. The woman is in serious need of a break. She’s stretched so tight I’m afraid she’s going to snap.”
“Emma can take care of herself,” Gina insisted. “She’s always been totally levelheaded and sane compared to the rest of us.”
“Take another look. I was out at the ranch with her and Caitlyn earlier. I think even that little girl senses that her mother’s at the breaking point. Caitlyn’s birthday is coming up, and she told me the only thing she wanted was for her mom to move here because in Denver she never, ever sees her. How pitiful is that?”