Raphaela's Gift (33 page)

His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment and then lifted to her face again. "I love you; you know that, don't you? I love the Faith LeFeuvre I met a few weeks ago. Was she real?"

Faith walked across the room, leaned against the wall and, gazing out the window, tried to remember everything they'd done and said the past few weeks. "We've been so busy fighting off ex-wives and ex-boyfriends, I'm not sure if we've truly gotten to know each other."

His footsteps softly shuffled across the room behind her, and then his arms wrapped around her waist and his body pressed against her back. She leaned into him, letting her head fall back and rest against his chest. Outside the window, a bee buzzed among the flowers of a shrub.

"That may be true, Faith. But I think we've both been more honest with each other than we're giving ourselves credit for."

She reflected upon what he said. "I hope you're right. I think you're right."

"We're both too damn insistent upon overanalyzing ourselves." He chuckled, the low rumble echoing through her head. "I have another proposition."

"You do?" Her spine stiffened slightly, and her heart skittered in her chest.

With gentle coaxing hands on her shoulders, he eased her around until she faced him. His gaze was intense as he looked into her eyes, and she wondered what he was thinking. Heat churned in her belly and crept to her face.

"I propose we leave the analyzing to the professionals and simply enjoy each other. Enjoy, respect, and love each other."

She smiled, and then her relief at his proposition, and the giddiness of a heavy weight lifting from her chest, made her giggle. "I think I can handle that. But what about your earlier proposal? I'm not the kind who casually lives with a man, and I can't see living here as your employee. It would be too awkward."

"I wouldn't want to push you into anything you're not ready for or don't believe in. But I'd like your help with Ella. Do you think we could work something else out?"

"I would love to. Raphaela's a joy, a real blessing. Plus, she brought us together. She deserves something for that, don't you think?"

"Then you'll help me?"

"Absolutely."

"And who knows what might happen in the next few months…" He started, and then trailed off as he lowered his head for a kiss.

His kiss was at first tentative, gentle, as his mouth slowly slid over hers. His tongue traced her lips, slow and tender. Instantly aroused, she pressed her body against him, blood pulsing hot through her. She opened her mouth to accept him. He tasted good, felt good, smelled good. As his tongue explored her mouth, dancing with her own, the muscles of her legs weakened until she feared sinking to the ground.

As though he read her mind, he swept her into his arms, his kisses leaving her mouth to scatter over her face and then trail down her jaw. Goosebumps tickled the skin of her arms and shoulders, and she shivered. He laid her on the couch and stared down at her. His eyes were half concealed by heavy eyelids, yet he looked indecisive, troubled.

"What's wrong, Garret?" she asked, wondering whether or not they had worked through whatever had held him back.

He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. A curl fell over his forehead. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"What do you mean?" Was he going to back off again? After everything they'd shared.

"Ready for it. You know." He tipped his head like a puppy, his eyes wider then she'd ever seen them.

She couldn't help laughing. Men didn't ask those questions. Men took what they wanted, didn't they? "You're sweet."

"Anything else?"

What was he waiting for? She searched his face, and then the answer, first a whisper, found its way to her consciousness. "I love you, Garret Damiani. I love your eyes, your hair, your body…your sarcastic, judgmental, loyal, hardworking, overanalyzing self."

He smiled, and she swore the joy of the whole world shone on his face. That had been all he sought. He was a human being, just like her, alone in the world and wishing to find that mysterious connection with another person. Someone to face the joys, the sorrows, and everything in between.

"Thank God for Raphaela," Faith said. "She's given us the most precious gift of all."

"Thank God for Raphaela," he repeated. "Funny, who would have guessed my daughter's disability, something so bad, would bring such happiness?"

She smiled, and sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck and scattered soft kisses over his face. She would do everything in her power to show him every day how much she appreciated him--the gift that she'd been given. She knew the company of hollow loneliness. Had struggled to shake it for years. And if nothing else, that made the promise of her relationship with Garret all the more precious.

She gave him her most provocative look. "And we've only just begun, Garret. Wait until you see what I have in mind for you."

"Hmmm. He said, tipping his head for a kiss. "I really like the sound of that."

And then, with a surge of unexpected confidence, and a touch of wanton desire, she shoved at his shoulders, pressing him down on the couch, and proceeded to illustrate exactly what she had in mind. Her mouth claimed his, devouring its sweet taste. His tongue slipped into her mouth. A river of warmth rose from the depth of her body and pummeled her insides, sending tide after tide of swelling need.

She sat up, breaking the kiss. As she looked into his burning blue eyes so full of passion she could barely hold his gaze, her hands wandered from his shoulders, first measuring the breadth of his firmly muscled chest. He moved under her, reaching his arms up to delicately caress her breasts through her silky dress. His muscles rippled beneath his t-shirt, and her fingertips traced the hollows between them. And then her hands crept oh so slowly, lower, following the shallow ridge running down the center of his stomach, playfully delving into his navel and finally finding the hem of his t-shirt. She slipped her hands under it, relishing the feeling of his smooth skin and soft hair trailing up the center of his stomach to his chest.

And then he sat up, smiled and removed her hands from his chest. His face was flushed deep red, and his ears were even redder. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, I just want to make sure we're both in agreement before we do anything more."

Faith smiled. He was so old-fashioned, so gallant, and so very sexy. And she loved him.

She would spend the rest of her life cherishing him, and would have a lifetime to discover all that was Garret Damiani, body and soul. "Believe me, I'm ready."

A firestorm unleashed in his eyes, as though her words had ignited a blazing inferno. It was almost startling in its intensity, but she quickly found herself enveloped in that blaze, cocooned in thrilling, exhilarating heat.

He kissed her again, this time with the conviction of a man who knew what he wanted. She returned each stroke, lick and touch with equal passion as the heat from outside seeped into her body and coursed through her veins. It found its center and pulsed hotter and hotter. Her body screamed its need to join with him, and she felt like crying out. All she could do is mutter between kisses, "Oh, God!"

Garret stood, his eyes still flaming with need, and smiled. "I want to see you." He motioned for her to turn around. "This dress has to go."

A shudder of need shot up her spine as she did as he bid. She felt the gentle brush of his fingers as he unzipped her dress, then a trail of hot kisses from her nape to the small of her back. Heat mingled with chills. She shuddered and shivered. "This is agony."

"You haven't seen anything yet," he murmured in her ear before taking her hand.

With painstaking patience, he slipped the front of her dress down to bare her shoulders, her bra, her stomach, her underwear and then down to the floor. His mouth followed the dress's path, lingering at the hollow between her breasts and the sensitive skin at the inside of her thigh before wandering the remaining length of her legs.

"You’re so beautiful. I've wanted to do this since I first saw you," he said, kneeling at her feet. "A goddess."

She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. Every part of her body longed for completion. Every muscle was taut, and her mouth was dry. She licked her lips. "Please Garret."

"Not yet."

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears as she watched him stand. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, rubbing her silk panties against the bulge at his center. "Please Garret. Make love to me."

He gently unwrapped her arms from his neck and walked to the other side of the room. "Music?"

"I don't care about the music."

"Candles?"

"Don't care about those either." In an act of desperation, she held his gaze, unhooked her bra and let it slip down her arms and to the floor. The way he watched, the look of raw desire on his face, was almost enough to make her climax. She loved the way he looked at her.

Next, she slipped her fingertips under the waistband of her panties. "How can you stand there and watch this?" She slid them down her legs and kicked them off. "Come to me."

"Damn it! I'm trying to make this romantic for you, but-- Aw, to hell with romance!" He charged across the room and with surprisingly gentle force knocked her back on the couch.

"I don't care about romance. I just want you."

A sound like a growl rumbled low from him as his mouth found hers. His hands first cupped her face, but quickly began traveling lower. His fingertips teased her breasts, then kneaded them, and then dropped to her stomach.

Garret broke the kiss, and Faith looked at him from under heavy eyelids. She felt almost drugged. Her head swam. Her breath came in short pants.

Garret pulled his shirt over his head, then stood and unzipped his pants.

"No. Let me," she said, sitting up. She looked into his eyes for just a moment and savored the need she saw there. Then she kissed the hard plane of his stomach and slid his pants down his legs. She was drawn to his erection, a solid swelling under his black athletic boxers. She eased his snug underwear down to fully expose his penis to her then wrapped her hand around it.

Garret tossed his head back and growled again as she slowly stroked the swollen flesh. When she ran her tongue down its length, Garret cursed and pushed gently at her shoulders. "You're driving me crazy."

"Good." She took his full length in her mouth and sucked until she felt the muscles of his legs tighten under her hands. When she sensed he'd had enough, she leaned back on the couch, her bottom at the edge of the cushion. "You've been driving me crazy for weeks." She opened her legs. "Love me."

That was all the invitation he needed. He looked determined and desperate as he kneeled before her and plunged inside, and that expression was the last thing she saw as her eyelids fell over her eyes.

All she cared about was the way his body fit with hers. He slid out, poised just outside before plunging back in again. And each time he repeated that movement, she reached another level of desperation. The pinnacle was so close, she felt her body racing toward it with his every stroke, but she fought it. She reached up, capturing his shoulders in her hands and pulled him down to her, kissing him, tasting him, and relishing every smell, sound, and touch.

This was heaven. This was what loving was supposed to be.

The muscles of her legs tightened as he leaned back to deepen his penetration. Then, his fingertip found her sensitive bud and stroked it in slow, rhythmic circles. Not too hard, nor too soft. Each circle spun her further and further from the world and closer to that crest. She heard his breathing quicken just before she felt that first pulse of her climax.

And he howled as he drove himself deep inside.

As they both rode the pulsing waves of completion, Garret thrust faster and faster, until his every muscle was lax, his energy spent. He leaned forward and kissed Faith's love-flushed face, and she opened her eyes and smiled.

"No turning back now," he whispered as he nibbled her cheeks and chin, and then placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"There is no way I'm going anywhere. You're stuck with me now, buddy." She wrapped her legs possessively around his waist.

"So you'll move in?"

"Not a chance."

He couldn't help smiling as he looked down at the woman he knew he could love for the rest of his life. With that act, that union, he knew they'd fused more than their bodies.

Their souls had become one.

Faith's hand shook as she held the receiver. If she was going to move on with her life, she had to slay this last dragon. She leaned forward in Garret's office chair and doodled with a purple pen on a piece of paper.

"Hello?" her mother answered, her voice awaking a myriad of memories, sweeping Faith back decades and making her feel like an insecure adolescent all over again.

"Hi, mom. It's me, Faith."

"Faith?"

Faith held her breath. What would the woman say? Would she hang up, refuse to acknowledge her after all this time?

"Faith. I've been looking for you. It's good to hear from you."