Chapter 5 Caught in the Act

The front door handle jiggled violently again, and the key clicked loudly in the lock.

Rafael reacted in a split second. He grabbed his jeans off the floor, pulled them on, and scooped me up in his broad arms, tossing me behind the thick curtains of the large bedroom window before the heavy wooden door swung fully open.

"Rafael!" Joe’s angry voice boomed through the cottage living room. "Where the hell is Dara? Her car is parked outside!"

I held my breath behind the dark fabric, my heart slamming wildly against my ribs as I quickly pulled on my clothes. My skin was still burning hot from Rafael’s touch, my breath coming out in fast, shallow gasps.

"She went back up to the main house ten minutes ago," Rafael said smoothly, his low voice calm and cool. "You just missed her because you were busy honking your horn like an idiot."

"Don't give me that attitude," Joe snapped. "She wasn't in her room."

"Check the kitchen, brother," Rafael sneered softly. "She looked pretty upset. Probably tired of waiting for a man who disappears all night."

I heard heavy footsteps stomping away as Joe left the cottage, slamming the front door shut behind him. I stepped out from behind the curtain, my hands shaking as I adjusted my sweater. Rafael looked at me with a dark, satisfied smirk, stepping close to brush his warm lips against my ear.

"Remember our deal, little bride," he whispered. "By day, you play his quiet girl."

By seven o'clock that evening, the large dining room in the main house was filled with the bright lights of expensive crystal chandeliers. Long silver trays of food covered the mahogany table. Joe’s parents sat at the head of the table, smiling proudly at the family members who had gathered to celebrate our upcoming wedding.

I sat near the middle of the table, wearing a simple blue dress. My hair was brushed, but under the heavy table, my knees were trembling. Joe sat right beside me, sipping his wine, looking every bit the perfect, handsome son.

Rafael sat directly across from me. He was wearing a dark button down shirt, his dark eyes fixed completely on my face, watching every breath I took.

"I would like to make a toast," Joe announced, standing up slowly and holding his wine glass high in the air.

The busy chatter around the table died down instantly. Everyone looked toward Joe.

"To my beautiful fiancée, Dara," Joe said smoothly, turning to smile down at me with fake warmth. "We have been together for ten long years. Through all the high points and low points, she has been the most loyal, patient, and quiet woman a man could ever ask for. She knows her place, and she supports me completely."

A few older relatives clapped their hands softly, murmuring compliments about how sweet we looked together.

I felt a sudden, sickening knot in my stomach. Loyal. Quiet. Boring. That was all I was to him.

Suddenly, under the heavy white linen tablecloth, I felt something smooth and warm brush against my bare ankle.

I froze, my fingers gripping my cloth napkin tightly.

It was a foot. Rafael’s bare foot slid slowly up my calf, his warm toes tracing a slow line over my skin. I looked up sharply, but Rafael was casually cutting his steak, his face completely calm and unbothered.

My breath caught in my throat as his foot moved higher, sliding right up the inside of my thigh, lifting the fabric of my blue dress. His toes pressed firmly against the warm space right between my legs.

A sharp gasp nearly escaped my lips. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, forcing my eyes to stay fixed on my plate.

"Are you okay, darling?" Joe asked, setting his glass down and leaning over to pat my hand. "You look a little flushed."

"I am fine," I managed to choke out, my voice tight and strained. "Just a bit warm."

Under the table, Rafael’s foot pressed a little harder, his warm toes rubbing over my thin underwear in a slow, agonizing circle that made my blood burn hot. My whole body went rigid with intense, secret pleasure. I had to grip the wooden edge of my chair to keep from crying out right in front of Joe and his entire family.

Rafael took a quiet sip of his water, his dark eyes locking onto mine over the rim of his glass, throwing a wicked, silent challenge at me.

"I need to get some fresh air," I blurted out, pushing my chair back abruptly.

I stood up before anyone could stop me, my face burning red. I rushed away from the bright dining room, walking quickly down the dark hallway until I reached the cool, quiet pantry at the back of the kitchen.

I stepped inside the dark walk in pantry, leaning my back against a wooden shelf full of silver cans, trying to catch my breath and calm my racing pulse.

Before I could even take a deep breath, the pantry door opened and shut in a fraction of a second.

A heavy body pinned me against the wooden shelf.

"Rafael!" I gasped in a tiny whisper.

"You looked like you needed help breathing, little bride," Rafael growled softly in the pitch black space.

He didn't wait for my response. He grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them firmly above my head against the shelf. His warm mouth descended on mine in a fierce, silent, and wild kiss that completely wiped away the quiet room outside.

My lips parted instantly, welcoming his tongue as a quiet moan vibrated in my throat. His large, calloused hand slid up my leg, reaching under the hem of my blue dress, his rough fingers cupping me through my damp underwear.

I arched my back against him, completely helpless against the intense heat exploding through my core.

Suddenly, the brass door handles of the pantry jiggled loudly.

"Dara?" Joe’s annoyed voice called out from the other side of the thin wooden door. "Are you in there? Who are you talking to?"

My heart stopped beating instantly. My eyes went wide with pure terror in the dark.

The wooden door swung wide open, letting the bright kitchen light flood into the dark room—revealing us just as Rafael's large hand remained completely buried deep under my raised skirt.