When she bumped into it, he lifted her onto the mattress. She scooted back, only to be stopped by him unfastening her shorts. Somewhere along the way, she'd kicked off her sandals.

When he released her, she continued to scoot while he held on to her shorts. Her panties came off with them. When she was naked, he grinned and went to work on his own shirt. Minutes later, he was next to her, touching her everywhere. She traced the muscles of his chest and skinny line of hair that led to his arousal. He teased her belly button before moving lower and slipping his fingers into her wetness.

They lay on their sides, facing each other, eyes open as they pleasured each other. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, then her nose.

"The difference is," he said quietly, "that I very much want to make you come, but you do not have the same goal."

She continued to stroke his hard length. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course. If you make me come now, how will I slide deep inside you later? How will I part your legs and move faster and faster?"

"We'll have to wait, what? Ten minutes?" she asked with a smile.

"Any time would be too much."

He had a point, she thought as she reluctantly released him. He, however, kept touching her, rubbing back and forth, occasionally dipping his fingers inside of her. She had a leg over his hip and they were so close she could see the various colors that made up his irises.

Not that she could really focus on them. Instead her attention kept slipping to the building tension in her body.

This was just sex, she reminded herself. Really great sex. And she wanted more. She wanted more touching and rubbing and dipping. She wanted to come like this, then do it all again.

"You have always been difficult," he said conversationally.

"What? We're naked and you want to discuss that now?"

"I can think of no better time. You never do what you're told."

"I take great pride in that," she said, finding it difficult to speak, especially when he bent down and licked her nipple. She was close and getting closer. The rhythm of his fingers drove her crazy, but in the best way possible.

More, she thought. She just needed a little more.

"But sometimes instructions are a good thing. For example…"

He eased her onto her back, all the while continuing to touch her. He positioned himself between her legs. He had to be millimeters from entering her, but he didn't. She strained toward him.

"Rafael," she breathed.

He stared into her eyes. "Come for me, Mia. Come now."

The unexpected order shocked her. She felt him pushing slightly, but he didn't enter. He waited.

Suddenly she knew he would thrust inside of her the second she started to climax. She tightened in anticipation of his hardness filling her over and over again.

That was all it took to push her over. The first shudder of her release claimed her. She arched her body.

"Now," she breathed. "Do it hard, Rafael. Do it."

He plunged inside of her. At that first thrust, her contractions increased. Pleasure poured through her as she wrapped her legs around his hips and held him in place. Again and again, thrusting deep and fast, claiming her.

She held on to him, climaxing until his body stilled and shuddered.

* * *

Rafael lay still on the bed. Mia lay next to him. The sound of their breathing filled the quiet of the room.

Once again the power of their lovemaking surprised him. He hadn't thought she would really give in, but now that she had, he felt the first whisper of hope.

Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps there was still a way to make her believe in him again. Because that is what he wanted. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd begun to see all he had lost with his deceptions and arrogance.

He wanted to make things right with her. He wanted her in his life because she wanted to be there. He needed her.

"Mia," he began, not sure what he was going to say.

She smiled, then stood. "I'll give full points for that one. It was great."

Her lush body distracted him until she reached for her clothing.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting dressed. I need to get back. I don't want to miss dinner."

"You should stay here," he said. "We can talk."

Talk? Had he really said that?

"I appreciate the invite, but I'm okay." She pulled on her panties and picked up her bra.

"You can't leave," he told her.

"Actually I can and I'm going to."

She quickly finished dressing, then walked to the door.

"It was sex, Rafael. Nothing more. I haven't forgiven you and I'm still pretty sure I don't like you. Unfortunately, I have a mindless reaction to your body. I'll get over it. I did before."

And then she was gone.

17

Mia held her bravado until she'd driven out of the hotel parking lot and was confident she was out of sight of anyone watching from a second-story window. Then she pulled to the side of the road and tried to catch her breath.

What had she done? The why was easy— no point in wondering about that. The why was the incredible sexual chemistry that had always existed with Rafael and the things that happened to her body when he touched her. But the what… now there was a question.

What on earth was she supposed to say the next time she saw him? How was he going to take her seriously if she fell into bed with him every time he smiled pretty? Because the man smiled pretty on a daily basis. He was born to smile pretty.

She leaned back in the seat and did her best to hold back tears. Lately she'd produced as much waterworks as a class 2 hurricane and her emotions were about as unpredictable. She had a good excuse, but still, where was her pride? Bad enough the man could make her come without breaking a sweat, worse if he also got to her heart.

Except her heart was the main problem. Her brain was firmly on the side of "Rafael, bad." Her body was weak, and despite physical evidence of the bones in question, spineless. Still, she could control her body simply by never being alone with him again. Wanting didn't necessarily have to lead to doing. But her heart. Her traitorous still-in-love-with-him heart… what was going to happen there?

She wanted him but knew she couldn't have him— at least not again. She hated him and still had to deal with him. She loved him and couldn't trust him.

She wasn't just fighting him, she was fighting herself, and that was one battle she didn't know how to win.

* * *

Mia found Joe looking for her when she got home.

"I wanted to give you an update on the— " he started as she climbed out of her car, then stopped. "You look like hell. What happened? Did Rafael threaten you?"

Not in the way Joe meant, she thought, trying to find the humor in the situation and failing badly.

"He didn't see Danny today," she said instead. "At least not for very long. Danny walked in on me having a melt-down and blamed his father. Basically the kid slammed the door in his face."

"I like his style," Joe said.

"It's a little volatile, but that comes with being four. I'm just a little shaky right now, but I'll get over it. What did you want to tell me?"

"That I've been doing regular equipment checks on the tracking system and it's fine. The alarm kicks in as soon as Danny leaves Marcelli land and the GPS instantly boots. It doesn't automatically work on the property, but we can always program it in manually. That wouldn't take much more than half an hour."

"In case Rafael kidnaps him and hides out in the vineyards? I can't see that happening."

"Me either, but it's an option." He stared at her. "Are you really okay?"

"No, but trust me, you don't want to know details."

He sucked in a breath as if bracing to have a fingernail or two removed. "I can listen."

For the first time that day, Mia laughed. "Darcy's done a very nice job with you. You're practically domesticated. But as much as I appreciate that very heartfelt offer, I'll pass. But I do have a question."

He nearly glowed with relief. "Sure. Ask me anything. I know a lot."

"And you're so modest." She hesitated, then asked, "Can men really change?"

The relief faded and his face took on a trapped expression.

"Dammit, Mia, don't drag me into this. As far as I'm concerned, your prince is a real bastard. I don't care if he changes, I just want to beat the crap out of him."

"Which I really appreciate. But that's not the point. He's saying he's sorry, and while I didn't believe him, I kind of do now. Or I want to, which isn't at all the same thing. Can he change?"

"Him specifically? I have no idea. Guys in general? Maybe. If they're motivated. Do I have to get into this with you?"

"Since you're the only brother I have, yes."

"Then it's possible, but not likely."

"How do I know for sure? How do I get proof?"

"Hell if I know. Look, you want to believe him because he's Danny's father and for a couple of other reasons I don't have to hear about. But proof, Mia? How do we prove anything in a relationship? It takes time. Is he going to be there when things get hard? Is he willing to make sacrifices? Are you equals?"

"I can't answer the first," she admitted. "The answer to the second two are probably no. How does a prince make sacrifices? Sleep on two-hundred-thread-count sheets instead of five? As for us being equals, in some ways we're not. He's royal. I'm the girl he knocked up. He certainly wasn't willing to come after me until he found out about his son. Apparently I'm not princess material."

Joe stared at her. "Do you want to be?"

"What? No. Of course not. Nothing about that life appeals to me."

"But you're pissed he didn't come claim you."

"Only in the sense that we'd had a relationship and he ended it by pretending to be dead."

"You have to give him points for creativity."

She punched him in the arm, then wished she hadn't when his muscles hurt her fist.

"I can almost understand that," she said as she rubbed her knuckles. "I mean, I was some American spy and he's got to marry Euro-trash, as Kelly would say. But there's a level of tackiness I just can't support. Plus there's the whole pretending to be in love with me so I'd marry him and he could take Danny. That's annoying."

When she thought of all the things he'd told her, she got mad all over again.

"Do you know he actually implied that I'm the reason he didn't get engaged to any of the appropriate women his father brought around. That he didn't realize it at the time but as soon as he and I were back together, he understood what had been going on."

"You think he's lying."

"As much as I think the sun is going to come up tomorrow."

Joe shifted. "The guy's not married."

"What? You're taking his side?"

"No way. I'm just pointing out that for whatever reason, the guy's not married. He's what, thirty?"

"Thirty-two," she said, fighting the urge to hit him again. Only, seriously, who would get hurt in that encounter?

"He didn't know about Danny, so he had to be under some serious pressure to produce an heir. Why isn't he married?"

"I'm sure there are a thousand reasons."

"Such as?"

"He's not willing to give up the babe banquet. Once he gets married, he'll be in a permanent relationship. Rafael doesn't like to cheat. I know it sounds strange, but it's true."

"He told you and you believed him?" Joe asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and yes. But I have confirmation from other sources. The woman he'd been with before me, plus when I Googled him, all the write-ups indicated he was pretty faithful to his girlfriends. Cheating was never listed as a reason for a breakup. I'm sure part of the reason he's resisted marriage is that the thought of having sex with the same person for the rest of his life is horrifying."