Maybe she had the power of telepathy or maybe he could read minds, she didn’t know which. All she knew was, at the same time her body tilted involuntarily toward Rafe, he was leaning toward her, too.
Feeling like she was moving in slow motion, almost like she was in a dream, Anya didn’t stop tilting until her face was mere inches away from Rafe’s. Then, of their own accord, her eyelids closed. She held her breath, waiting for his next move.
As her body yearned for his touch Anya sensed Rafe moving closer, closing the gap between them. And then so softly, so gently, his lips touched hers. Like the caress of a butterfly’s wing, his lips brushed against her lips, sending a tantalizing thrill racing through her. She sighed.
As if taking the soft sound as invitation, Rafe’s tentative touch became bolder and he leaned in even closer, taking full possession of her lips, kissing her as if, for the longest time, he’d been dying to do just that.
Melting against him Anya moaned and lifted her hands to clasp his shoulders, steadying herself, clinging to him as he swept her away with his expert kiss. When moments later he drew back, it was too soon. Unable to hide her disappointment she sighed and lowered her face. Her hands sliding off his strong shoulders, she clasped her fingers in her lap and finally opened her eyes.
When she did, it was to find him gazing down at her, his lips curled in a mischievous smile. “That kind of kiss,” he said softly, “was not a kiss from a woman I’d call boring.” His smile deepened. “It left me wanting so much more.”
It wasn’t what he said but the way he said it that made Anya drop her eyes again. She could feel the telltale pink of a blush creep up her neck to color her cheeks. The way he’d said the words in that husky, sexy voice of his made her tingle inside. There was no doubt about it. This man knew exactly how to turn a girl on. And that, as she’d suspected, made him a dangerous man indeed.
Wanting to break the spell Rafe had cast over her, the one that made her lower her defenses, Anya cleared her throat then looked around, desperate to find something else to talk about, something that would break the tension that made her so aware of him. She was glancing around when her gaze fell on two men heading in their direction. One, a tall, pale figure with long twists of blond hair falling almost to his waist, was carrying a huge picnic basket while the other, almost his polar opposite with dark skin and a huge afro, carried a couple of big, brown grocery bags.
“Are those your friends?” she asked, tilting her head toward the men.
Rafe turned to follow the direction of her gaze. “Yup. Here comes the food.”
Rafe was saying the right words but he didn’t sound eager like she’d expected. The whole point of a picnic was the food, right? When it came to Rafe, though, it didn’t seem like that was the case. And she knew exactly how he felt…because she was feeling the same way, too. Food was not exactly at the forefront of her mind just then.
But now Rafe’s friends were standing right in front of them. Time to push her attraction for Rafe to the back of her mind. Time to paste a smile on her lips and get ready for introductions.
Rafe got to his feet then gave her his hand and helped her up. As she stood beside him he casually threw his arm across her shoulder and pulled her against him in a move she could only describe as possessive. “Anya,” he said, “meet Lion and Khalil, my travel mates.”
“And long time friends,” the pale one said as he dropped the big basket onto the quilt then wiped his palm on the seat of his khaki trousers and stuck his hand out to her. “I’m Lion,” he said. “Good to meet you, Anya.”
“And I’m Khalil,” the other friend said with a cautious smile which made her wonder if he was scared of her. Although, why he would be, she had no idea.
“Pleased to meet you, Lion,” she said, taking his hand. "And you, too, Khalil." She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m happy to meet both of you.”
The introductions over, Rafe took her hand again and helped her back to the quilt-covered ground then he turned his attention to the booty his friends had just brought. “Did you get everything?” he asked. “I could eat a horse and I’m sure Anya’s starving, too.”
Anya only smiled. Rafe was exaggerating, of course. It wasn’t like they’d been sitting there, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the food. They’d been occupied with other, more stimulating things.
Lion flopped down beside the basket and lifted the lid. “We’ve got fried chicken, bread rolls, coleslaw, salad and salad dressing. And, I would have you know, we have potato salad. Everything present and accounted for, captain.”
“Don’t forget the dessert,” Khalil said, finding a spot next to Lion. “We got a pound cake and some fruit salad. All bases covered.”
Rafe nodded, looking satisfied. “Sounds good. Especially the potato salad part.” Then he bent his long, lean frame and relaxed by Anya’s side.
Khalil shook his head. “What it is with you and potato salad, I’ll never figure out.” He turned his dark-eyed gaze on Anya. "Can you believe the man made us go all the way back to town to hunt down potato salad? We ended up going to three stores before we found any.”
The man looked so disgruntled that she had to laugh. “I’m sorry he put you through all that,” she said. “I’ll make sure he behaves from now on.” And even as the words left her mouth she couldn’t believe she’d said them. She’d made it sound like she was going to be around him that long. As it was, she didn’t even know how long he would be in Bremen. And although she had absolutely no right to feel that way, the thought made her feel just a little bit depressed.
“Okay, Mommy, I’ll be good.” From where he lay, propped on his elbow, Rafe turned his face up to her and gave her such a chastened look that she laughed. It was exactly what she needed to put her back in a cheerful mood.
Rafe sat up then dug into one of the grocery bags and pulled out a pack of paper plates. “Now that it’s settled that I’m going to be a good boy, let’s eat.”
“Hear, hear,” Lion said, rubbing his hands together in a comical display of eagerness.
Khalil, who seemed to be the most serious of the lot, took the plates from Rafe and proceeded to use huge plastic spoons to ladle out potato salad, coleslaw and vegetable salad onto each one. As he handed the first plate to Anya he tilted his chin toward a huge metal fork in the basket. “Grab that and stab whichever piece of chicken suits your fancy,” he said. “People can be particular when it comes to chicken. Take Rafe now. He’s strictly a breast man. Me, I eat anything.”