‘I hear you.’ Alexa gulped in a few deep breaths to steady her heartbeat. She did hear him and even though she might like to fix things for him that wasn’t her role.
* * *
The following night Alexa smiled at Stevens as he opened her car door and waited for her to exit onto the damp London street.
An avant-garde restaurant loomed ahead, illuminated by a single bright light; the black door and grey brickwork looked as if it hid an illegal gin joint rather than a Michelin star restaurant.
Rafe’s security team moved ahead of them, clearing the way and entering the building first.
Trying to lighten the mood between them that had shifted since she’d accepted Regan’s invitation, Alexa chatted as if nothing was wrong.
‘I’ve heard of this restaurant. The chef is some sort of food maestro. I read that he creates new recipes in a laboratory rather than a kitchen.’
‘He’s innovative,’ Rafe agreed. ‘And good at what he does.’
‘Something you admire.’
‘I admire lots of things.’ His gaze slid down her body as the maître d’ took her coat. ‘Like you in that dress.’
Relieved that he no longer seemed upset with her, Alexa smiled. ‘I believe you said that back at the apartment.’
‘No, I nearly stripped it off you back in the apartment. Somehow I’ve convinced myself that anticipation will make the pleasure worth waiting for and didn’t want to disappoint you by cancelling tonight.’
As usual the explosive chemistry that was never far below the surface when they were together ignited, stealing her breath.
‘I’m glad you didn’t cancel,’ she murmured. ‘I think it’s going to be really special. And this dress deserved an outing because I’ll never be able to wear it in Berenia.’ Alexa adjusted the shoestring straps over her shoulders. The dress was low-cut at the front, even more daring than the one she’d worn to Bound, and it made her feel sexy and confident—exactly how Rafe always made her feel.
Buoyed by a mixture of renewed happiness and lust, Alexa glanced at him from beneath the sweep of her lashes. ‘But I look forward to what anticipation looks like later on.’
‘I can tell you what it will look like.’ Rafe placed his hand against the small of her back and leant close. ‘A tenth of a second.’
Alexa gave a husky laugh and suddenly she was plastered up against Rafe’s hard body. She gasped at the unexpected contact and the doorman discreetly glanced at his feet.
‘Stay an extra week,’ he said gruffly.
‘What?’
‘Don’t leave tomorrow. It’s too soon. Stay an extra week. You can work from my place if you need to. I’ve hardly scratched the surface of what I want to show you.’
Dazed by the forceful nature of his request, Alexa’s mind blanked of everything but him. She was sure there were a hundred good reasons why she should say no, not least because she wanted to stay with him in London a little too much, but she couldn’t utter any of them. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Good.’ A satisfied smile curved his lips just before they connected with hers for a brief searing kiss. ‘Now let’s go and get tonight over with.’
Giddy with delight that Rafe wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him, Alexa floated through the sliding steel door into a large room that had once been an old warehouse. The designers had kept many of the original features, including industrial lighting suspended from black cables and exposed beams along the walls. Long tables dressed with pristine white tablecloths and sparkling silverware filled the space, with a brushed metal bar running along the back wall.
Most of the guests seemed to already be present, about forty people standing in small groups holding champagne flutes and chatting animatedly.
A waiter in a white coat stopped in front of them, holding a tray full of coloured drinks.
‘Mimosas,’ Rafe murmured, obviously reading her perplexed expression correctly. ‘Chilled juice and champagne. You might like it.’
Alexa accepted the pink drink, her eyes wide with appreciation at the sweet taste. ‘I do like it.’
Rafe’s eyes gleamed, but he had no chance to respond as Regan carefully crossed the room to greet them. She looked amazing in a gold three-quarter-length dress that cleverly hid her massive baby bump.
‘I don’t know much about pregnant ladies,’ Rafe said, bending to kiss his sister-in-law on the cheek, ‘but you look ready to pop.’
‘Rafe!’ Alexa admonished. ‘You don’t say that to a pregnant woman. You look amazing, Your Majesty. I hope I look as beautiful as you when I’m eight months pregnant.’