Page 45 of Rafael

Of him, yes. Of football? “I watch the occasional New Orleans Saints game at the Crawdad Hole with friends. I’m not what you’d consider a rabid fan, though I enjoy an exciting game. I’ve never participated in Fantasy Football, though I’d like to understand what the fuss is all about.” She peered into his bedroom, where a king-sized bed took up most of the room. He’d made it up with charcoal gray sheets and a black fuzzy blanket.

Gisele’s pulse spun up, sending hot blood throughout her body, culminating low in her belly.

Rafael rummaged in a duffel bag, finally pulling out a T-shirt. “We’ll have to indoctrinate you into the legions of foaming-at-the-mouth fandom.”

“I’d like that. I need a new hobby.”

“Isn’t dabbling in Voodoo interesting enough?”

She shrugged. “Everyone expects that of me. I grew up resisting their expectations. I wanted to be like everyone else.”

Rafael tossed the towel in the corner and pulled the T-shirt over his head and down his broad chest and washboard abs.

Gisele’s breath lodged in her throat. She wanted him to take the T-shirt back off. No. She wanted to take the T-shirt off him and run her hands over all that sexy, taut skin with the hard muscles beneath.

Girl. Get a grip.

She tore her gaze away from Rafael and wandered into the kitchenette, putting distance between herself and all that gorgeous manhood before she made a pass at him.

Shelby’s warnings played like a recording on an infinite loop. “He will never commit. He has sex with a woman a coupleof times and moves on. Don’t lose your heart to a man like that.”

The man Shelby had warned her about strode toward her with a smile that could melt the sturdiest of knees. “I take it you came straight over since I don’t hear the sound of sirens screeching, unless you went through the front door of the shop.”

Gisele nodded, afraid to trust her voice to do more than squeak. She swallowed and said, “Front door only.”

“Good. I need to show you how to disarm the alarms should they be set off. I’ll do that after we have that taco soup I promised.”

Gisele’s move into the kitchenette to put distance between her and him backfired. He joined her in thesmall space and leaned around her to open the refrigerator door, effectively trapping her, his arm brushing across her breast.

An electric charge shot through her, making her gasp softly.

Rafael’s brow furrowed as he stared down at her, the refrigerator door open, pouring out cool air over Gisele’s hot skin. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Yes.”

His chuckle made her body burn even hotter.

“You’re shaking head says no, but your mouth is saying yes. Which is it?”

She raised a hand to her chest in a futile attempt to slow her racing heartbeat. “Yes and no.”

He nodded, his brow puckering. “Okaayy. That’s much clearer. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

She nodded.

Immediately, he tensed and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Her hand shot out to grab his arm. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

His lips twitched. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. It sounds like double talk.”

She sighed. “What I mean to say is...yes, you make me uncomfortable, but in a good way.”

His dark pupils flared. For a long moment, he stared down into her eyes without moving. Then he reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a container and set it on the counter. Away from her.

With his back to her, he worked silently at spooning taco soup from the container into a bowl.

Wasn’t he going to say anything? She’d more or less admitted that she was sexually attracted to him. Hell, she’d shown him that she was when she’d groped him in her shop earlier.

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