Page 21 of Our Secret Summer

“That’s not on me?” Raffo’s eyes widened. “My girlfriend stopped loving me and that’s not on me?”

“It’s on her. It’s got nothing to do with doing something really stupid. With getting so carried away with something you lose all common sense.”

If only Raffo knew why Mia had stopped loving her—although what good would it do? She wouldn’t be able to make Mia love her again, unless she changed into slender, blonde Ophelia, and that was impossible.

“Okay.” Raffo easily acquiesced. “That was not a good example. But it doesn’t matter, because we’re not going down this route. You made a mistake and I understand it’s a difficult thing to accept about yourself.”

“For what it’s worth…” Dylan leaned back in her chair and drew up one shapely leg. “I have no idea why Mia would stop loving you. You’re so… talented and down-to-earth at the same time. You’re extremely easy to be around and so incredibly interesting. Frankly, I can’t get enough of your company.”

The only response Raffo had to that was a slackening jaw.

“I don’t mean in a romantic way, obviously,” Dylan quickly added.

“In anamorousway, you mean?” Raffo quipped, now that she was able again.

“That’s right.” Dylan had no trouble meeting Raffo’s gaze. Raffo was unable to look into Dylan’s eyes for longer than a split second, though. “You know that’s not what I mean, don’t you?”

Did she? Raffo wasn’t so sure, but maybe she was projecting. Although there wasn’t anything amorous—her heart wasn’t free for anything like that—about how she felt about Dylan, it was undeniable that Raffo found her attractive.

“Of course,” Raffo said. For the first time, she felt a little uncomfortable in Dylan’s company—not because of what Dylan had just said, but because of Raffo’s own thoughts. “And thank you for saying those lovely things about me. That feels so nice after being dumped like that.”

For a moment, Raffo considered what might happen if she continued down this road their conversation had taken—if she flirted with Dylan a little—but she soon thought better of it. Dylan was Connor’s mother and that was the end of that.

She feigned a yawn. “I’m sorry. I seem to be rather tired. I got a lot of painting done today. So much for being on vacation.” Once she’d got going, Raffo hadn’t been able to stop. Because she’d felt like her full self again. “I might have an early night.”

“I can imagine it’s exhausting, being a genius and all that.” Dylan rested her chin on her knee and gazed at Raffo.

Someone using the word genius to describe her always raised Raffo’s hackles all the way up, but Dylan had a different effect on her when it came to many things. Raffo just made a mental note to address that wrong assumption about her—she didn’t consider herself a genius in the least—later, and rose from her chair.

“Thank you so much for dinner, for the excellent company, and another lovely day in your house.” As she walked past Dylan’s chair, Raffo briefly touched a hand against Dylan’s shoulder, before heading inside.

CHAPTER 16

Sleep proved elusive yet again. It was one of those restless nights that seemed to multiply as Dylan aged. Rather than fight it, she’d learned to prepare for these wakeful hours—a book within reach, the TV downstairs, or perhaps that steamy story app she’d deleted but hadn’t quite forgotten.

Reaching for her water glass, Dylan found both it and the bottle beside it empty. She eyed the lesbian spy thriller on her nightstand—from the infamousUndergroundseries by Charlie Cross—which, come to think of it, was quite steamy as well. But it was far less dangerous than having Ida Burton whisper naughty words in her ears.

Dylan padded downstairs for water, pausing at the kitchen window. The lake stretched before her like black glass, its surface as smooth and unruffled as she’d hoped to become by retreating here. The turmoil in Dylan’s brain had been smoothed over a bit, but that was more down to Raffo’s arrival than to Dylan being able to forgive herself for her mistake. Instead of letting her mind wander down the same old path of self-incrimination, which was never conducive for sleep, she tried to remember what had been happening in the book she was reading. She quietly made her way back upstairs, looking forward to re-immersing herself in the thrilling life of a female spy.

When Dylan reached the landing, the door to Raffo’s room swung open. Raffo emerged.

Their eyes locked, and the air crystallized between them. This wasn’t Raffo’s usual appreciative glance—this was something electric and unprecedented. In that suspended moment, Dylan recognized the inevitability of what would follow. Her pulse jumped, a Morse code of want beneath her skin.

She made the first move, reaching for Raffo’s hand. She drew her near, walking them backward until her back pressed against the wall. She dropped the bottle of water to the floor and tried to read Raffo’s face. Before she could draw any conclusions, Raffo’s lips hovered a mere inch from hers. Raffo didn’t say anything. She hadn’t spoken at all since coming out of her room. All she did with her lips was touch them against Dylan’s.

Dylan breathed heavily against Raffo’s mouth, one hand still entwined with hers, the other clutching Raffo’s T-shirt. She pulled her closer, her body communicating what words couldn’t: yes, this was exactly what she wanted. Dylan’s knees went soft as Raffo’s tongue slipped into her mouth.

She knew she shouldn’t be kissing Raffo like this, yet somehow, it felt exactly right. Their kiss was only tentative for a few moments before swiftly morphing into so much more. Into intention and red-hot lust burrowing its way to the surface of Dylan’s skin.

Raffo kissed her and Dylan forgot about everything that bothered her. She stopped being the person who had lost half a million dollars. That was the one and only Raffo Shah kissing her. And there was no mistaking anything about this kiss. About Raffo’s soft tongue against hers and how it made her feel. All Dylan could think, as she opened her mouth wider for Raffo, was more, more, more.

When they broke from their first, deliciously endless kiss, without saying a word, Dylan pulled Raffo into her room. Speaking now would just break whatever spell they were under. Dylan did not want this spell to be broken. She didn’t want Raffo to suddenly have a crisis of conscience. She just wanted Raffo’s lips on her again, and then all over her body.

Dylan tugged at Raffo’s top. In one swift move, Raffo pulled it off and tossed it aside. Dylan wanted to quickly follow suit, but Raffo didn’t let her. She grabbed Dylan by the wrists, immobilizing her arms, before reaching for the hem of her tank top.

Dylan groaned low in her throat. She hadn’t been this aroused in a very long time—not even by Ida Burton’s voice in her ears.

Inch by inch, Raffo lifted Dylan’s top away from her skin, starting a raging fire between her legs. Ever so slowly, Raffo revealed Dylan’s breasts.

---