Page 35 of Hidden Raphael
This crush on the guy was not good at all. Her face heated from reliving that short kiss.
"Kimberly. Come over here." Raphael winked at her and pointed her toward a mat. Had she imagined the wink? Would he kiss her again?
Okay, she needed to stop this nonsense. She swallowed and walked onto the green mat.
"Take your shoes off." He took his off then stood on the mat. "What we practice you have to be able to do no matter your footwear."
With her eyes wide, she did a few yoga stretches. "So I can do whatever in my bare feet?"
His pupils dilated as he took a step closer to her. "That would be deadly with the right training, though when running from an attacker, shoes can be a weapon to throw."
"Your last girlfriend with the designer wardrobe would rather die than give up her shoes." She flipped her hair to the other side of her head. "The labels are all Paris runway, and not bought in stores."
He crossed his arms. "Safety should always take priority over fashion."
She leaned closer and invaded his space. His hard muscles flexed and he smelled like home. "Living your life to the fullest should take priority over fashion."
He shrugged, and his gaze sent heat throughout her body. Her own curves and softness were the opposite of his strength and body built to be James Bond. "Kimberly, you're surprising."
A gentle breeze was supposed to be more powerful than a strong gust, or so her training had said. She somehow doubted that lesson now as he pointed her toward the mat. "Why are we practicing now? Roger is dead, so there is no need."
"There is every need." His lips were close to hers and he smelled like the forest she wanted to be in forever. Her body begged for his touch. "Your safety is what matters."
She stepped onto the blue mat and opened her legs to a yoga move. "Are there other secrets on this island, then?"
He glanced away. "Let's get started."
He'd done that before. Was that his tell that he was bothered? She rested her hand on her chin. "You like to change the topic."
He circled her on the mat but didn't step close. "Don't get used to being here. That kiss was great, but in the spring, I'm sending you home."
"I'll do a dance of joy the second I see a ship near us." His forearm brushed against her and her gaze stayed on his manly form. She drew away, but she was transfixed with the light sweat he had on his body. Every cell inside her bloomed like she needed him to join her. "How do you lower the drawbridge?"
“Did you open the door?” He shook his head and then made another small attempt to let his feet trip her. "Why do you want to go outside so bad, Kimberly?"
Yoga gave her grace, at least, and she skipped his attack. "I want to go visit the crash myself. It might help me remember."
He swallowed. "It's better if you don't."
She shook her head. "Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions." He glanced away from her again and then lunged toward her. "Let's get started."
She maneuvered. Once the rain cleared, she'd figure out how to open the thing herself, but it would be better if he showed her. Was she a prisoner? Again he moved toward her, and his hands wrapped around her waist, and her body pulsed. She licked her lips. "No. How do I go outside to the beach?"
He froze, like she'd struck him. She twirled out of his arms. Then he met her gaze, and she saw the storm in his eyes. Why was he so conflicted? It was a simple request. She said nothing. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. I'll show you later."
"Now, let's get started."
How would she react if he touched her again? On this mat, she'd find out. Would he kiss her again?
