Page 15 of A Game-Changing Christmas

Raphael’s gaze dropped to her lips, and he forced his sight back to the dark brown of her irises. “Do you dream of me often,” he asked, teasing her.

A wide smile crept across Bri’s face, and she tucked her head and covered her eyes with her free hand.

“Um… uh…”

Raphael smirked, almost pleased that he had invaded her fantasies.

“Just tell me I’m looking and smelling good when we meet there.”

This brought a chuckle from Bri that made her ears tingle, and her nipples soar as they hardened.

“Oh my God,” she whined, still embarrassed.

Raphael, on the other hand, couldn’t calm the stir in his gut and the extra pound of his heartbeat. He’d woken her up in the interest of having dinner but found himself staring at the curvy form of her body as she laid across the two seated chair in the waiting room fast asleep. He’d squatted in front of her so he could wake Bri with a soft touch, but Raphael ended up lingering there wrapped in the contour of her peaceful face, full lips, refined nose, and the symmetry of her swan-like neck.

It was only when she began to talk in her sleep that Raphael presumed he should wake her, as if continuing to listen and watch was an invasion of her privacy.

“Let me apologize for disturbing you. It’s getting late, and none of us have had dinner,” he said, referring to the others that lingered in the room. “It would also seem as though Camilla and baby Hunter are fast asleep, so I don’t think any of us will see them soon.”

Bri removed her hand from her face and squeezed his fingers still wrapped in her outstretched hand.

“That’s to be understood,” Bri said. “How late is it?”

“One a.m.”

A whooshing whistle curdled from Bri just as her stomach growled.

“I guess I could use something to eat.”

“Do you have work today?”

“I have work every day. It’s the small business owner way of life.”

Raphael nodded. “You’re right, although I’d hardly call your business small.”

Bri twisted her lips. “And how would you know that, Mr. Valentine?”

The way she sang his name made his heart thump, and he bit his bottom lip.

“I’m an observer, Ms. St. James,” he responded, “and you’re not hard to miss.”

They stared at one another, hearts thumping and pulses kicking into a rapid sprint. Raphael squeezed her hand and tugged.

“Should we see about some nourishment for our bodies and soul?”

Bri followed his pull to an upright position, then together they rose to their feet, slow and steady, with a burning brush of her breasts to his chest. They were detained there for another moment, and Raphael fought the urge to slip his arm around her waist and pull her in for a sample of her lips.

He cleared his throat and stepped to the side of her. “After you.”

Bri slipped her hands over her hips and adjusted the jeans that were plastered to her curvaceous waistline.

“Do you mind if I use the ladies’ room really quick?”

“Not at all.” He held a hand out to direct her. “This way.”

“Thank you.”

Bri sauntered off with her mind in a fog as she entered the restroom on a tailspin of wind. At the sink, she turned on a faucet and ran a close eye over her coffee brown face, shoulder-length hair and semi-casual attire. The high neck chunky knit sweater was as cozy as a bear hug, and the black threads ran down to mingle with a dark leather belt. The patent leather was looped through high-waisted skinny jeans, leaving Bri’s bodacious hips pronounced and on exhibition.

At her feet, Bri adjusted her knee length boots and upon a twirl checked her image one last time. Feeling satisfied with her look, Bri cupped her hands under the running water and splashed a bit of the warm liquid on her face.

“Wake up, Bri,” she whispered, “and be careful with him.”

Bri repeated her mantra with a nod, knowing that the chemistry between she and Raphael was a dangerous thing. As the best friend of Allison Sullivan and the wedding planner for Hunter and Camilla, crossing Raphael’s path had been inevitable. But those instances brought knowledge of him steering a path to a place she was sure he wasn’t ready for. Being careful not to take his friendliness for something else was imperative.

“You got this.”

She turned off the nozzle and dried her hands with paper towels, then left the sink and exited the bathroom. Re-entering the dim lobby, Bri’s eyes found Raphael quickly, apparently taking orders from the others in the room. Her gaze ran from his Timberland boots, up toned calves and solid thighs hidden behind dark denim. Her stare clung to the masculine way he stood, mounted on a ridge of testosterone and strength. A dark gray long sleeve fleece strained against the pectoral outline of his chest, and the stalk of his neck and gleam in his eyes made Bri’s belly flop while she released a drawn-out breath.

“Be careful with him,” she murmured again.

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