Page 24 of Hidden Raphael
She rocked on her feet. Could she trust him? Raphael had done nothing wrong. She sighed then relented. "Okay. You're soaked. Go upstairs and change your clothes. I'll go get us the muffins and oatmeal I made. It will warm you up."
He dropped her hand, nodded then turned to go up the staircase.
She reached down and gripped her bag. The soft-shell wheeled bag had the same weight she remembered. First she carried it to her room. On the bottom step she tried the handle to see if the wheels worked. Her heart raced a bit and she hoped she hadn't broken anything. The bag rolled without an issue.
Pressing one hand over her heart, she thought Raphael’s tall, muscular frame and short, dark hair made him the most attractive man she'd ever met. She opened the door and then left it. Her muscles twitched to go.
She scooted the bag inside, placed it next to her bed, and turned to go to the kitchen. She stopped, stared at the hard plastic bag, and took a breath. Then she opened her bag.
All her clothes were still there. Her computer was at the bottom, and she smiled. A strange, slightly wet book was mixed underneath her shirt. She scratched her head and flipped through the pages.
Someone's handwriting.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs. She let go of the book and zipped the bag.
She jumped to her feet but clutched the book.
He leaned against the door. "I found the food and brought everything to the dining room. Are you almost ready?”
"No. I mean yes." Her heartbeat steadied. She held the book in her hand to read as soon as she could. "Let’s go."
He shrugged then walked beside her. "Once we’re done, can you make more coffee?"
She curtsied behind his back. "Let's eat with the best finery. The table is long enough to feed an army on. I figure we could use the other end tonight."
He turned, and his intense stare sent a chill down her spine. "I saw you in the mirror. Don’t mock me, Kimberly."
The wind gusted past the window.
"Why?" She walked into the dining room that could host all the undead creatures in every ghost story she ever read. "You own a castle, and only vampires dress in black every day."
"Vampires aren't real." He stared down at his black jeans and dark t-shirt and almost cracked a smile. "And this shirt is gray, not black."
"Hard to tell the difference in the candlelight.”
“The generator went out again.”
“Perhaps you can be a vampire for Halloween for your guests." She touched the medallion and winked. “I’m already under your spell.”
His cheeks reddened.
Besides her muffins, he added a plate of crackers and cheese, and a bottle of wine. Her body grew a bit warmer. "Why would a young, rich man who's as handsome as the devil himself choose to lock himself away?"
“If I didn’t, you’d be dead.”
She left the book on the seat beside her. “So I want to help you live yours.”
He scooted the plate of crackers toward her and picked up a muffin. She found wine glasses in the cabinet and then joined him. She almost dropped the wine as he said, "Your life is probably worth more than mine."
She sat in her seat and placed the bottle next to the full glasses. She couldn’t look at him for a moment, so she sliced the hard white cheese. "I doubt it. I've not talked to my family in years. If I died here, they wouldn't even know it."
"Nothing will happen to you." He scooted his chair closer and poured them both glasses of wine. "I got this."
Her mouth went dry. Those were the three sexiest words any man had ever said to her. She stared at him, unable to breathe for a minute. The thump in her chest grew. She must have goose bumps all over her from this tingling desire to kiss him. "You couldn't have screwed up your life as much as I have."
"I doubt that. I've sinned far worse than anyone." A draft rattled the book and it fell on the floor.
She picked it up and then handed it to him. "I don’t know what this is. It's not mine."
