Part 3 (1/2)

'But why the island?'

Rafa doesn't take his eyes from me. 'You were twitchy. I wanted to check you weren't going to damage the first tourist who hit on you.'

'And then what, repeat your offer to distract me?'

'Would your answer have changed without an audience?'

'You wouldn't offer without an audience. That's the whole point, isn't it? To get a reaction?'

His eyes drop to my lips. 'There's no audience now.'

I try to read him. For once, I can't. I feel a flush creep up my neck. Get a grip. It's Rafa.

I push past him. 'I don't know what this is, but it's not helping.' I walk into the bathroom. I wet a face washer, dab at my crusty hair. The steam in here smells of apples. It throws me further off-kilter. I don't know if it's the tension between Jude and Nathaniel and knowing where it might lead, or the fact I was bleeding out on a beach two hours ago, but I'm off balance. Undone.

'You took on three Gatekeepers on your own.' Rafa is behind me now, watching in the mirror. 'That's a whole new level of aggression, even for you.'

'Fine. Get dressed and we'll go a few rounds.'

'I don't want to spar with you.' Rafa drags his fingers through his hair, looks away for a second. When his eyes meet mine again in the reflection, they're dark, serious. 'I thought you were going to die tonight. Do you know what went through my head?'

'Same as usual, right? Nothing.' I'm trying to keep the mood light, but I'm warm in places that haven't felt heat for a long time. I turn around and he's barely centimetres from me. I should move away. Palm him in the chest. Headb.u.t.t him. I don't do any of those things.

'That's right,' he says quietly. 'Nothing. I was about to lose you and I couldn't form a coherent thought.'

I lean back against the sink. 'That's a good line, Rafa.'

'It's not a line.'

'What do you call it, then?'

'An attempt to drop the bulls.h.i.+t between us.' I can see the pulse in his throat.

'And do what?'

He waits, and when I don't push him away, he moves even closer. Our hips touch. I feel the heat of him. He rests his hands either side of me on the sink. 'Don't'-his lips are almost on mine-'hit me.'

The kiss is soft, tender in a way that surprises me so completely I don't even think about it. I just respond. The kiss instantly deepens, but he doesn't take his hands from the sink. For the moment I'm distracted enough by his lips and tongue. I'm losing myself and he's barely touched me. Is this what I want? Is Rafa what I want?

His hand slips under my s.h.i.+rt. His fingers climb my back and then trace a light path down my spine. I s.h.i.+ver with pleasure. I'm still kissing him. He wraps his free arm around me and I let him lift me onto the vanity, position himself between my thighs. My body thrums with want and need. Heat everywhere.

He crushes me against him, fingers in my hair now, cradling my head against the force of his lips. I match him for intensity, getting a grip on his towel and pulling him closer. I'm struggling for breath, but I'm not breaking contact first. Rafa finally drags his lips from mine. He kisses my throat, his breath hot. Ragged. He unhooks my bra with one hand. I tug on his towel, let it drop to the floor. Run my hands over his bare hips and the muscle of his backside.

'Gabe...' His voice is raw. Our hearts thump together, racing each other.

'The door,' I manage.

His mouth covers mine again and I feel the vortex. I let him take me across the room. The sensation of kissing though the s.h.i.+ft is obscenely intimate, deepening every sensation as the maelstrom tears and compresses us. I materialise with my back against the door, legs tight around him. He flicks the lock with one hand and presses into me, kissing me harder.

I'm lost in a storm of pleasure and wanting. I pull at my t-s.h.i.+rt and we break apart so I can drag it over my head. He waits for a beat, breathing fast. And then his fingers find the b.u.t.ton on my jeans. My zip slides down.

Our lips crush together, more urgent now. I loosen my legs from his hips and drop to the floor so I can step out of my boots. Rafa pulls my jeans over my hips along with my underwear, stopping to kiss my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and my hipbone on the way. I kick my clothes away and Rafa lifts me against the door again and in a single, a.s.sured movement he's part of me. We pause for a second, share a moment of astonishment. Chests rising and falling, checking ourselves.

Rafa doesn't hesitate when I pull us back into the vortex. The sensation is exquisite. I take us across the room, pinpoint our arrival so that his legs strike the bed and he has to topple backwards onto the mattress.

Rafa smiles against my lips as he steadies himself. 'What a surprise,' he whispers. 'You want to be on top.'

He flips me around so fast I'm almost not ready for it. But as soon as I hit the mattress I tighten my legs and use his momentum to roll him onto his back. It's almost like sparring. I straddle him, triumphant. His hands are on my hips. As he calculates his next move, I start to push against him. He closes his eyes, slowly, guides me with his hands. 'Unfair tactic.'

'Why?' I ask, trying not to lose myself too quickly. 'You think I might be better than you at this, too?'

Rafa smiles, dirty and s.e.xy. 'We'll see who lasts longer.' He pushes himself up into a sitting position and wraps my legs around his hips. And then he runs his tongue up the side of my neck and grazes his teeth over my earlobe, arms tight around me.

'You can't tell anyone about this,' I whisper, pressing my cheek against his hair, want and need building, hips moving with purpose. 'And I'm not moaning.'

He laughs and it reverberates through every part of me. 'We'll see.'

AVOIDANCE.

'Were you trying to get yourself killed?'

Jude's voice drags me out of the blackness. I keep my back to him while I surface. The morning light is subdued, not yet fully awake either. Pieces from last night fall back into place.

Oh. I bury my face in the pillow, try to focus. How much does Jude know?

'What happened to respecting my privacy?' I mutter.

'f.u.c.k your privacy. You almost died last night.'

That answers two of three pressing questions: Jude has spoken to Rafa, and he knows what really happened on the beach. But what about afterwards? The memory washes over me again. The heat, the urgency. What was I thinking? My fingers tighten on the corner of the pillow. I close my eyes and try to settle my poker face. It takes a few seconds.

'Why would you go after them on your own? Is this about my fight with Nathaniel?'

I don't answer and I hear him take a slow breath, like he's struggling to keep his temper. And then: 'How could you drop your guard like that?'

I roll over and face him. He's next to the bed, hands resting on his hips. Bloodshot eyes and stub-bled cheeks. Behind him, George Grie's River Styx ferry hangs on the wall, ominous in the dull light. Its black and grey sky seems almost cheery compared to my brother. I try to read his mood. A sense of distance. About me or Nathaniel? I rub my cheek on my shoulder and catch a hint of sandalwood. Heat flares in inappropriate places. I glance away, guilty. But Jude can't know about Rafa and me: he'd be acting weirder than this if he did.

'I needed a fight,' I say. 'In hindsight, I picked the wrong one.' I sit up too fast and the room does a quick lap around me. Jude takes my elbow to steady me. He sits down and I can't help but lean into him as the mattress takes his weight. He smells of lime and tequila and the sea.

'I feel like an idiot.'

'It was an idiotic thing to do,' he says, but the anger's mostly gone now. 'You really scared the h.e.l.l out of Rafa.'

Warmth creeps up my neck. 'What makes you say that?'

'I could hear it in his voice.' Jude sits back so he can see me properly. 'Why didn't you call me from the infirmary? Why did I have to wait until this morning to hear about it from him?'

'I didn't want to disturb your choice of recreational release.' I gesture to his bloodshot eyes-and register that Rafa's only just phoned him. It's the only reason Jude's back from whatever bar he was in.

'Gabe.'