Page 16 of Hidden Raphael
He took in deep breath, put the cloth on the counter, then lifted his shirt.
Her pulse raced as she stared at his naked chest with a sprinkling of soft, dark curls. All the men in Miami were hairless wonders that likely spent a fortune to rid them of every speck of hair. Raphael was different, and somehow, that brushing of hair on his chest made him sexier than the cover boys she'd met. "A few ribs are bruised. I’ve done this to myself before."
“Then you should have learned your lesson already.” She noticed the military insignia on his upper arm. "You were in the Marines."
"Yeah." He gazed at her and electricity rushed through her. "Can you get the Vaseline from under the sink to put on my bruise?”
Me, place anything on his body. She kept her answer to herself and went to fish out the medicine. A moment later, she held the bottle and glanced at him. "Your eye seems to be the worst."
He nodded and she stared into the black mist in his pupils. He had the power to hypnotize her, and she lost all other thoughts. She then rubbed his chiseled face. His five o’clock shadow tickled her wrist and made her alive.
"What happened?"
She reached up to brush his hair off his face, but he pulled away. "I went looking for your servant. Found Roger instead."
He sucked in his cheeks. "I surprised him at his camp on the edge of the forest. I found some papers near his camp that he kept close." He rubbed his hands together and she realized he must be cold. She brushed his arm to soothe him, but then her gaze went to his back. She dropped her hands to her sides, but she gasped at the gun tucked into the backside of his jeans.
Raphael held his hands out to his sides. "Relax. Don't get upset."
She tried to blink, but she couldn't move. Her mind returned to the second Roger stood behind Eileen and then slam, thebangboomed into the air as her blood splattered toward her.
He reached behind him and placed the gun on the counter. "It's not loaded anymore. I took his gun."
Heat surfaced and her eyes welled with tears "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He took her hand in his.
"At least he can't shoot me." She stared into his eyes. Raphael wasn’t shot. Her gaze went all over him, but he had no holes anywhere in his body. "I'm happy."
"He has military training," Raphael told her. "He knows how to fight."
"How do you know?" She ran her hands through her hair to try to get a grip.
He crossed his arms. "I know because I know."
"One step at a time." She smiled at him. He’d been patient with her, and it was all her fault he was hurt. He had tried to help her again. She owed him. "I made you a cake earlier that you didn't touch. Perhaps we can celebrate?"
He picked up the gun and left his shirt on the stool next to him. Then with the end pointed toward the floor he said, "I'm going to put this in a safe."
He walked out the door. She clutched the medallion harder and cringed. "Every step you take to help me, you get my eternal gratitude. I want to help you too."
Raphael's footsteps echoed outside. She picked up his wet shirt, then chased him out. He was halfway up the stairs and she ran to catch up with him. He slowed down a little. "I don't need a nurse."
"I want to help you. You helped me." She walked at his side. "Where is this safe?"
She shouldn’t be this nosy about him and ask that question. She pressed her lips together and swore she’d stop.
"In the library." He walked fast, and she sped up to keep up with him.
At a door, he flung it open and turned on the lights, and Kimberly stopped. Her eyes burned a bit. Everything here was bright. She hadn't seen lights in hours. Her mouth fell open. "If I am stuck here, at least there is a lot of books to entertain me. How come this room still has lights?"
He turned back to her and tilted his head. "We have generators, and I have this room connected directly. Your bedroom should also have lights that are directly connected, but the rest of the house is spotty. Don’t forget your candles."
Again, he took care of her. Raphael went to the fireplace and pushed a picture frame to the side. She’d not ask about his bedroom, though it had been on the tip of her tongue. She stepped to the left to pretend she couldn’t see what he did.
He had an old-fashioned safe but with a modern-day laser beams. She stepped closer. He pushed his fingerprint on it and it opened. Modern technology was always good, but then she bit her bottom lip. Why would a man live without a phone, but have that technology for a safe? Something didn't add up. She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he placed the gun in a plastic bag. Then he added it to the safe next to the wallet.
"What else is in there?" She gazed at his broad, muscular backside to see what else was in the safe.
