Jess finished brushing her hair, and then pulled on her damp bikini bottoms with a grimace. They weren’t dry, of course, but wouldn’t have been even if she’d let them sit for hours. The humidity would have prevented it.
Hopefully she wouldn’t have to wear them much longer. In fact, Zanipolo and Santo may have already brought back a T-shirt and shorts or something for her to wear. The thought was enough to encourage her to move a little quicker. Jess grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around herself sarong-style as she headed for the door.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Raffaele said as she joined him in the sitting room. “Zanipolo and Santo just delivered your clothes.”
“Oh,” she said with relief and then her eyes widened as she spotted the bags on the coffee table. Moving toward them, she asked, “Which bag is for me?”
“All of them.”
“What?” She glanced to him with surprise.
“Zanipolo likes to shop,” Raffaele said with a shrug and wry smile, but Jess frowned.
“That was kind, but I’m pretty sure I can’t afford all of this,” she muttered, moving to the bags. Jess had browsed through the boutique stores here, and knew the prices were crazy expensive. Looking through the bags didn’t reassure her any. The two men hadn’t just picked her up a T-shirt and shorts, they’d bought her dresses, and swimsuits, and a couple pairs of shorts as well as several T-shirts. They’d also thought to get her panties and bras, which were amazingly the right size, as well as sandals, both the high-heeled strappy kind, and flat walking sandals. No flip-flops. Glancing to Raffaele, she shook her head. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I’ll take a T-shirt and a pair of panties and shorts, as well as the flat sandals, but we’ll just have to take everything else back, and I’ll pay you back for what I do use when—”
“You don’t have to take anything back, and no one expects you to pay for these clothes, Jess,” he interrupted solemnly. “They’re a gift.”
She shook her head firmly. “You guys have already done enough for me. I—”
“You might need the extra clothes,” he interrupted.
“No,” she assured him. “The shorts and T-shirt are good enough to go to the embassy with, get a replacement passport, and then fly home.”
“Zanipolo and Santo asked about the embassy,” he announced, as if just recalling it. “They were told it’s in Arroyo Hondo. I guess that’s in Santo Domingo.” He shrugged, and then added, “So, after you dress and we eat, the plan is to take one of the hotel buses into town and rent a car to drive there. I gather it’ll take a couple hours.”
Jess stared at him wide-eyed. She’d assumed there would be an embassy in Punta Cana. Foolish, she supposed. They could hardly have an embassy in every small town or city of every foreign country. But she could hardly believe that the men were willing to drive her there. She wanted to refuse the offer, and insist they continue with their vacation and forget about her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option. She was a starving student still. She might be able to borrow money from the family members who were here, but paying them back would be a problem. Not impossible, but another burden added on top of the extra costs she already had. Replacing her passport wouldn’t be free, and the clothes she’d lost were a write-off, and then there was her purse and all her credit cards that—Crap! she thought suddenly. She couldn’t buy a plane ticket without her credit cards. Dear God, it didn’t matter if she went to the embassy and got a passport, Vasco had made sure she couldn’t leave.
“Jess?” Raffaele said with concern, moving a little closer. “Are you all right? You’ve gone pale. What’s the matter?”
“I just—” She shook her head and sighed. “I need to dress. I’ll feel better once I’m dressed.”
“Of course,” he said gently, and picked up the three bags for her. He then led the way back to the bathroom.
Jess followed silently, her mind whirling in a sort of panic, but when he set the bags down on the bathroom counter and turned to leave the room, she asked, “Why are you guys helping me like this?”
Raffaele paused and turned back with surprise. For a moment, he just stared at her, and she got the feeling he was debating what to say, but finally he simply said, “Because you need help.”
“That’s it?” she asked, a frown pulling at her lips.
Raffaele shrugged. “That and . . . well, if my sister were in a situation like this I would hope someone would help her too.”
“Your sister,” she murmured with disappointment. It didn’t seem to her to be a good thing that she was making him think of his sister. Not when her attraction to him was anything but brotherly. It seemed he must not be experiencing that attraction as she was. How depressing. Although that explained why he wasn’t trying to kiss her, she supposed, and wondered if he was gay. Jess would have liked to believe that was the case for her pride’s sake, but wasn’t egotistical enough for that. Just because he wasn’t interested didn’t make him gay.
“I’ll let you dress,” Raffaele said softly, and slid from the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him.
Sighing, Jess glanced at the bags, but then crossed the room to sit on the side of the raised tiled floor around the tub. She needed money to leave Punta Cana, a lot of money by her estimation. She also needed a good excuse to borrow that money. Her adopted family was pretty amazing for the most part, and they would no doubt be happy to help her if she gave them a good excuse for leaving. But if she told them she was fleeing a pirate captain, who was also a vampire who had designs on her body and not her blood, they’d help her onto a plane, for sure. They’d even accompany her home, and then check her into the nearest mental hospital when that plane landed.
Groaning, she rubbed her face wearily and then stood to sort through the bags of clothes. She’d rather hoped price tags on the items of clothing would help her select the least expensive ones, but those had been removed. She settled for a pair of panties, dark blue shorts, and a light blue T-shirt with a tropical scene and “Punta Cana” written on it. She was skipping a bra in the interest of saving money.
Once dressed in the chosen attire, Jess peered at herself in the mirror. She looked okay. While she wasn’t used to going braless, you couldn’t really tell she wasn’t wearing one. At least, she didn’t think so as she peered critically at her reflection. The design on the T-shirt helped, she supposed.
Shrugging, Jess turned and headed for the door. She’d have breakfast, which at least was already paid for, and then she’d consider the best plan of action. Hopefully, once she’d eaten she’d think up a good excuse to give one of her uncles for needing to borrow money and leave early.
“What are those?”
Raffaele glanced up with a start at that question, and paused as he took in Jess. She looked incredibly young and carefree in the T-shirt and shorts she’d donned. At least on first impression. If you looked too closely at the forced smile and the strain around her eyes, the carefree part dropped away, though.
“Pamphlets?” she asked when he remained silent.
“Oh.” Glancing down, he peered at the pamphlets he’d been going through. After her protest about the clothes, he’d known she’d protest the expense of their renting a car and driving her to Santo Domingo too. The pamphlets had been his answer. He’d decided he’d claim they’d planned to take a trip to Santo Domingo anyway on this vacation and so it was no problem to take her along.
Raffaele had gone through the selection Zanipolo had given him to peruse and actually found several attractions in Santo Domingo that his cousin had apparently been interested in. One was an eleven-hour tour of the “historic” city of Santo Domingo. Seven hours of which were just getting there and back from Punta Cana. He’d shaken his head at that, and then spotted a pamphlet on a place called Parque Los Tres Ojos, which translated to the Three Eyes National Park. It had a group of interconnected caves that were supposed to be beautiful and worth a visit. And then there was the Columbus Lighthouse where Christopher Columbus’s remains were supposed to be. Apparently, the lighthouse was both something of a museum and mausoleum to the man.
“Parque Los Tres Ojos?” Jess murmured, mangling the words somewhat.
Raffaele raised his gaze to find she’d crossed the room to stand next to him. He handed the pamphlets to her with a faint smile. “Yes. It’s one of the places we planned to see in Santo Domingo. There are a couple of them,” he added, and she peered at him with surprise.
“You planned to go to Santo Domingo anyway?” she asked, sounding almost hopeful.
“Sure,” Raffaele said with a shrug, and suspected he wasn’t even lying. He had no doubt Zanipolo would have dragged them to Santo Domingo to see it, and not on one of the buses where the sun would have poured in the windows on them. He would have insisted on renting a private car, preferably one with air-conditioning and windows with SPF protection.
“So, it wouldn’t be taking you out of your way to go to Santo Domingo,” she murmured, shuffling through the pamphlets.
“Not at all,” he assured her. “We will take you to the embassy and see that taken care of, and then go check into a hotel. I am not sure if you will be able to get a passport right away, or if it will take a day or two. You are welcome to stay with us and join us on the tours if that is the case. We planned to stay for a couple of days.”
“Thank you,” Jess murmured, her expression thoughtful.
Raffaele watched her for a moment, wondering what she was thinking. She appeared to have agreed to traveling to Santo Domingo with them, but was thinking pretty hard. He suspected there was something he hadn’t considered, but wasn’t sure what that was.
“I ordered breakfast,” he announced, hoping to draw her from her thoughts.
Jess glanced up from the pamphlets and smiled. “Breakfast sounds good. But we didn’t have to eat here. We could have gone down to the restaurant now that I have clothes.”
“Zanipolo and Santo said the lineup was pretty bad to get into the restaurant,” he told her, which was true. The boys had mentioned that before leaving. “They said there was no one in line when they got there, but by the time they finished eating and were leaving, there was a line that stretched outside and along the entire back of the building in both directions.”
“Oh.” Jess glanced to the clock on the wall and grimaced. “Yeah. The lineup gets pretty brutal by this hour. At least it has since we got here.”
Raffaele nodded, and then stood and moved to the small coffee machine on the counter just inside the living room area. “Would you like coffee?”
“Oh, yeah, that sounds great,” she murmured, and moved to join him. They worked together, Jess unwrapping two cups and gathering powdered cream and sugar while he read the instructions on the small one-cup coffee machine and then opened and inserted one of the enclosed sacks of coffee.
“So where did the boys go?” she asked as the machine started to hum and brown water began to drip into the first cup.
“They went down to sit by the pool for a bit,” he murmured, not bothering to mention that they’d be under the biggest umbrella they could find. “We’re to join them after we break our fast.”
“Break our fast?” Jess echoed with surprise.
Hearing the words from her made Raffaele realize that he’d used the antiquated term for breakfast. Shrugging, he turned back to the coffee machine and slid the first cup out. He handed it to her and then began to prepare the machine to make the second cup and said, “English is my second language. Sometimes I get terminology wrong. I suppose I should have said ‘after we breakfast,’ or ‘eat our breakfast’?”
“Either one,” she said with a faint smile as she added the powdered milk and a packet of sugar to her coffee. Her smile widened then and she added, “I keep forgetting you’re from Italy. Your accent isn’t really Italian. It’s . . .”
When she paused and frowned, apparently unable to place his accent, he explained, “We moved around quite a bit when I was younger. I’ve lived many places over the years. My accent is probably a hodgepodge of different influences.”
“Ah,” she murmured, nodding her head. “That explains it.”
Raffaele relaxed a bit then and retrieved his cup of coffee from the machine. He then fixed it the same way she had, adding a pouch of the powdered milk, and a sachet of sugar. That wasn’t from preference. He didn’t know what his preference would be. Raffaele had never had coffee. By the time it had become the world’s beverage of choice, Raffaele had lost interest in food and drink. He wasn’t sure he’d like it. In fact, he wasn’t sure he should drink it. He’d heard the caffeine could have a deleterious effect on immortals. He’d only made himself one because she’d grabbed the cups and fixings for two and had seemed to expect him to have one as well.
“Shall we sit at the table while we wait for our food?” he asked, picking up his cup.
“Sure.” Jess led the way.
Once at the table, Raffaele moved quickly around her and pulled the chair out for her.
“Thank you,” Jess said softly as she settled in the seat.
“You are welcome,” he murmured in response, and moved to the seat opposite.
“So,” she said once he’d settled in his seat. “You have a sister?”
Raffaele blinked in surprise at the question, and then recalled saying he’d wish someone would help his sister if she were in her position. Nodding, he admitted, “Yes. Several of them actually, and a couple of brothers too.”
“Older or younger?” she asked with interest.
“All younger. I’m the oldest child,” he admitted, and then to keep her from asking questions he couldn’t answer, like how many years were between him and his siblings and such, he said, “I know you are adopted, but did they have, or adopt, other children, or are you their only—?”
“Only child,” she said softly. “Mom couldn’t have children.”
“Why did they not adopt others?” Raffaele asked with curiosity.
“Probably because I was so much trouble,” she said with a faint smile.
“I am sure that is not true,” he said quietly.
Her smile widened, but she said, “My parents loved me, and considered me worth the effort they put in, but I was a troubled kid, and did keep them busy.”
“You talk about them in the past tense,” he pointed out. “I take it they are no longer with us?”
Jess shook her head. “You know that cruise ship that sank several years ago?”
Raffaele narrowed his eyes. “An Italian cruise ship?”
Jess nodded. “They were on it. From what I was able to piece together, they’d had a busy day and were both tired, but Dad always had a walk in the evening after supper. He escorted Mom back to their cabin before leaving for his walk, and she was resting when the ship hit the rock that sank it. She never got out of the cabin. Dad tried to get to her to get her out, but had a heart attack. Some guests got him off the ship, but he had a second heart attack two days later and this time died.”
“I am sorry,” Raffaele said sincerely, and noted her eyes going glassy with tears.
Blinking them away, she turned to peer out the window next to the table and cleared her throat before saying softly, “So am I. They were really good people.”
Raffaele nodded, but some part of his mind acknowledged that it would make the choice to become immortal easier for her. She wouldn’t have to consider abandoning the relationship she had with parents who had saved her from the foster care system.
Realizing what he was thinking, and recognizing how selfish it was, Raffaele lowered his head briefly. The loss of people who had cared for, loved, and helped her heal from what had been a nightmare early childhood . . . well, it must have been a crushing blow and all he could think was how it might benefit him.
“I am sorry,” he repeated quietly, and raised his head, adding, “From the little you’ve said about them, they sound to have been wonderful people.”
“They were,” she acknowledged. “And I was lucky as can be to have them in my life for the seventeen years I had them. I honestly don’t know where I’d be if they hadn’t taken me in and cared for me.” Grimacing, she added, “Probably not a good place. Definitely not where I am now.”
Raffaele smiled crookedly. After everything that had happened to her, Jess still managed to see the bright side of things. Even when it came to the loss of the first really good people she’d had in her life.
“Fortunately, I had my aunts and uncles. They really closed ranks around me. I’m invited to every holiday and birthday party from both my mom’s side, and my father’s.” She laughed slightly. “In truth, it can be a bit of a pain sometimes.”
“How?” he asked with surprise.
“Well, one year, I attended four Christmas dinners in two days, plus a Christmas breakfast.” She grimaced and shook her head, before saying, “But it was good too. It helped me keep from moping around weeping at the loss of my parents, and not having them on special days.”
She fell silent, and Raffaele eyed her for a moment before commenting, “You are very honest about yourself.”
Jess glanced up, her eyes wide with surprise, and then smiled wryly and shrugged. “I don’t see a reason not to be.” She paused briefly, seeming to gather her thoughts, and then said, “A lot of people present a mask to the world. They lie about, or hide, their past, and even about things they like and don’t like in the present. I know it’s an effort to fit in and be liked, but that just seems stupid to me. Because when you do that, you aren’t making people like you at all. They don’t even know the real you. Isn’t it better to be honest and find friends who really like you for yourself than to have to pretend to be something you aren’t, and do things you don’t like just to have people around you?”
She fell briefly silent and Raffaele was about to agree with her when she suddenly shrugged and said, “Anyway, while I don’t hide my past, I’m not usually quite as forthcoming as I was last night. At least, not on first meeting people. I guess the stress and long swim had me a little punchy with exhaustion.” Grimacing, Jess added, “I’d like to blame it on too much drink, but since I did all my talking before the Long Island Iced Tea, and hadn’t had enough wine before that for it to affect me, I don’t really know what got into me.”
“Exhaustion and stress can affect people oddly,” Raffaele said gently. “Besides, it was a blessing in a way. I think you may have helped my cousin Santo with what you revealed and said.”
“Hmm.” Jess nodded. “He seems . . .”
“Troubled?” Raffaele suggested when she hesitated.
“Yes,” she agreed on a sigh, apparently relieved she hadn’t had to say the word herself.
Raffaele hesitated, but then admitted, “He suffered some serious trauma in his past, and a more recent trauma that has churned it all up. He’s struggling with it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jess said quietly.
Raffaele nodded acknowledgment and then said, “Actually, he is the reason we are here. The family was growing concerned and Zani and I were enlisted to try to help him get past it. Or at least relax and forget about it for a while. It was beginning to consume him.”
Jess smiled faintly. “And how’s that working out?”
“Actually, he hasn’t mentioned his experience once since we found you,” Raffaele told her solemnly, and realized it was true. Dressler was the first thing Santo’s mind had jumped to when they’d spotted the bites on the resort guests. But he hadn’t brought the man’s name up once since Jess had told them about the pirates. That might be a good sign. Perhaps they just needed to keep him distracted.
“Well, I hope he’s able to put it behind him,” she said sincerely.
“But you don’t think he will?” Raffaele guessed.
“I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist,” she reminded him solemnly, but then added, “But from what I have seen so far in life and while working at the clinic, it works differently for everyone. Some people work through their issues on their own without counseling, others need counseling and get it, and then there are those who need it and don’t go for it, but just push it down, push it down, push it down, never realizing that while they’re pretending it never happened, it’s affecting every part of their life and every decision they make.” She shrugged. “But as I said, I’m not a psychologist, and I don’t know Santo well enough to tell you which he’ll be.”
“Right.” Raffaele breathed the word on a sigh. He didn’t know which kind Santo would be either. The man had never gone for counseling about the torture he’d gone through several centuries ago, but then there hadn’t been psychologists back then. He hadn’t been very receptive to Greg more recently, though, from what he could tell. On the other hand, he’d been very interested in what Jess had to say about trauma and how she’d handled it. Maybe he would be more open to talking to Greg when they returned.
“So, your family is close?”
Raffaele glanced up at her question and then smiled wryly. “We’re Italian,” he said with a shrug. “Always in each other’s business, so yes, very close.”
“And big?” she guessed.
Raffaele nodded. “Very big. Lots of aunts and uncles, and even more cousins . . . and we’re all as thick as thieves.” Grimacing, he added, “Well, many of us are anyway. Some live far enough away that we don’t see them often, but when we do it is as if we saw them just yesterday.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Sì. Yes. Very much alive and interested in everything I do,” he said dryly. “In fact, I’m rather surprised that they have not called to check on me yet,” he murmured, and frowned as he realized that was true. His mother usually called every other day at least, but he hadn’t heard from her since arriving in Punta Cana, other than her response to his text that they’d arrived safely. “Although they are probably getting reports from Uncle Julius or his wife, Aunt Marguerite,” he decided aloud.
“And who are Uncle Julius and Aunt Marguerite?” she asked with interest. “Zani’s or Santo’s parents?”
“No, they are my cousin Christian’s parents,” he explained, and then, realizing she had no idea who that was, explained, “He’s the fiddler in our band.”
“I thought your band was rock?” she said with confusion.
“It is. He plays hard rock songs on his fiddle. He’s quite good,” Raffaele added when she appeared blank-faced.
“Okay,” she said dubiously. “But he isn’t here, so why would your aunt and uncle have any news to report to your parents?”
“Ah. Well, because I called my uncle to see if he could help with your situation,” he admitted solemnly. When Jess raised her eyebrows at this news, he added, “I thought if we had trouble getting your passport we could return you to Canada on one of the company planes.”
Her eyes widened incredulously. “Wow. That’s so sweet,” she breathed with wonder, but then shook her head and pointed out, “It really is kind of you to even think of that, but I’d still need a passport to get back into the country. Unless you planned to have the pilot fly low and let me parachute out before they reached the airport.” Her comment was teasing, but there was an undertone of wistfulness to her voice that made him suspect she wished she could do that.
“Do you know how to skydive?” he asked with curiosity.
Jess grinned and nodded. “I always wanted to try it, so Mom bought me lessons for my eighteenth birthday. She even went with me. We had a blast,” she added with a reminiscent smile. “And we went skydiving three or four times every summer after that until they died.”
“Your father didn’t join you?” Raffaele asked with interest.
Jess smiled faintly and shook her head. “Dad was a rock. They both were,” she added quickly, “but different kinds. Dad was a big, solid rock, planted firmly in the mud. He was support and strength and steady. Not a risk taker,” she added dryly, and then grinning, she added, “But Mom was a different kind of rock, a bright, sparkly one tumbling down the hill and skipping across the riverbed. She was strong too, but she was a risk taker.”
“And which did you take after?” Raffaele asked with a smile, suspecting he already knew the answer.
“A little of both, I think,” she said slowly. “I have a strong sensible streak, and a calm exterior, which is why I got stuck babysitting Allison.”
Her grimace as she said that made him chuckle softly.
“But,” she added, “I will take risks at times.”
“Like jumping off a pirate ship into an ocean full of sharks,” he suggested.
Jess nodded. “And trusting my well-being to three complete strangers who could have been just as bad as the pirates I’d escaped.”
Raffaele’s eyebrows flew up at the words. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have some fears and concerns about him and his cousins, but they were strangers to her. In fact, he suspected if she hadn’t been hysterical, and drunk, she would not have stayed here in the room with them last night. She probably would have insisted on going to the room of one of her other relatives here at the resort rather than risk trusting strangers in a strange land, he thought with a frown. The thought made him reach out to clasp her hands where they lay on the table. “I promise you are safe with us, Jess. Neither I, nor my cousins, would ever do you harm.”
“I believe you,” she said softly, but her eyes were on their entwined hands.
His own gaze moved to them as his desire to reassure her gave way to an awareness of the sensations popping to life where their skin touched. Little frissons and a warm tingling had already enwrapped his hand and were now coursing up his arm to race through his body like an intravenous drug. It was bringing the blood rushing to the surface of his skin, making his muscles tighten with anticipation, increasing his heart rate and blood pressure, and his breathing was becoming faster and more shallow. His body was like an engine that had been turned on and was now revving, waiting for him to take his foot off the break. Raffaele almost retrieved his hand and sat back to allow the moment to pass. He’d intended not to start the physical relationship with Jess until they were away from Punta Cana and the worries and responsibilities both had here.
But then he recalled what Zani and Santo had said. Jess could be a life mate to the pirate captain too. He had given her a taste of the pleasure that could be had between life mates. Jess, however, didn’t care for the man and between that and her fear because he was a “vampire” had managed to fight her natural attraction to him and escape his clutches. But if the rogue pirate got his hands on her again . . .
Raffaele tightened his fingers gently and leaned forward as he drew her hand toward him.
Jess stared at their entwined hands, noting his darker skin against her still-pale flesh despite the sun she’d gotten since arriving in Punta Cana. Her skin was positively sparking under his. That was what it felt like anyway. It was the same thing she’d experienced with him before, and with Vasco. It was what gave her hope that she could still experience that crazy heady passion she’d experienced with the vampire pirate. But with someone else. Probably not Raffaele, though, she admitted on a small sigh. He always pulled back at this point, and she fully expected him to do it again now, so was surprised when, instead, he began to draw her hands across the small table and leaned forward in his seat.
Raising her gaze from their hands, she peered at his face and simply stared. She’d thought his eyes a brown so dark they looked black, with flecks of a blue so pale they seemed silver in the dark pool of his irises. But now his pupils were dilated, she saw. A sign of attraction Jess recalled from one of her classes as she stared at the large black holes and the silver rimming them. It was as if the flecks had coalesced in the smaller space left by the dilating pupils, shrouding the darker eye color. They almost seemed to glow in the sunlight coming in the window, she thought with wonder, and then glanced down with a start at their hands again. He had drawn her fingers to his mouth and was now pressing a kiss to her knuckles in an old-world gesture she’d read about but never seen.
Even as Jess thought that, his tongue slid out and ran between two of her fingers. The action left her mind blank, but not her body. It stiffened, every muscle and even her nipples tensing, even as something in her core softened like warmed butter and began to melt, sending liquid heat pouring downward. She wasn’t aware that her mouth had dropped slightly open until he suddenly raised his head and leaned across the table to claim her lips with his.
It started with a sweet brush of his soft mouth across hers that had an almost electrifying effect, and then it exploded into heat and passion. His tongue was filling her mouth, his lips slanting hungrily over hers and stealing her ability to think of anything but the need suddenly shuddering through her in mounting and overwhelming waves.
Jess was aware of his hands reaching for her, but still wasn’t sure how she ended up lying diagonally across the table, while he remained seated. But the position allowed his mouth to devour hers while his hands roamed freely over her body. He caressed her breasts through the thin T-shirt, kneading and massaging the eager flesh, and rubbing over her erect nipples, teasing them to a pebble-like state that was almost painful before moving down to cup her between the legs.
Jess cried out when his fingers pressed firmly there, rubbing eagerly over the cloth of her shorts and the panties barring his way as his tongue thrust in and out of her mouth. When he suddenly stood, she clutched at his upper arms, her upper body coming upright as he urged her legs around until she was sitting on the edge of the table in front of him.
She moaned with distress when he broke their kiss, and then gasped with surprise as her T-shirt briefly covered her face, but then it was gone, flying through the air. Raffaele paused briefly then, his gaze eating up what he’d revealed. There was no surprise on his face that she wasn’t wearing a bra, but then he’d probably felt the absence of one when he’d been caressing her through the T-shirt, she supposed, and then let her thoughts drift away as he kissed her again. Jess responded eagerly to his mouth on hers, kissing him fervently back, and then his hands slid up her stomach and claimed her breasts without the cloth in the way.
Jess gasped and jumped slightly on the tabletop at the contact, and then arched into the caress, her response to his kisses becoming more violent and demanding as he kneaded the eager flesh and teased the hard nipples. This time when he broke their kiss, she didn’t moan in protest. Instead, she leaned back and arched her chest upward, offering herself to him as he lowered his head to catch one excited nipple between his lips and began to lash and suckle it.
Moaning, Jess raised one hand to clasp his neck, and lowered her head to kiss the top of his as she murmured encouragement. She noted absently that his hair was clean and sweet-smelling and then one of his hands slid between her legs and began to rub her again and she let her head fall back on an excited cry, her bottom lifting up off the table and her legs spreading wider to allow him to step between them as he caressed her. Small tremors began coursing through her body. She was almost vibrating with excitement, some part of her mind acknowledged, and then Raffaele urged her to lie back on the table and released the breast he’d been suckling, to straighten and tug her shorts and panties off.
Jess sat up the moment they were off and was pulling his head back for another kiss before he’d even finished tossing them aside. Raffaele responded to the demand, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss, and then his hand was between her legs again and she cried out into his mouth as his fingers plundered her excited flesh, finding the center of her excitement and circling it firmly. Jess’s body responded eagerly, her hips shifting to meet the touch and her legs closing around his legs.
Desperate to end this sweet torture, Jess reached for the button of Raffaele’s jeans and managed to quickly unsnap and unzip them. She didn’t bother pushing them off. Instead, she ran one hand blindly along the cotton briefs underneath, and then slid her hand in to find and clasp the erection waiting there.
Dear God, he felt as hard as rock, she noted as her hand slid over him. And while he wasn’t a foot long or anything crazy like that, the man had some serious girth going there. Her fingers wouldn’t meet when she closed her hand around him and slid it along his hardness.
Distracted as she was by what she’d found, Jess wasn’t sure what Raffaele did then to cause the response she suddenly had. It was as if a second wave of pleasure was riding right next to the waves she was already enjoying. Before she could worry overmuch about that, Raffaele tried to urge her hand away. But Jess resisted and instead drew his erection closer, directing him to where she wanted. Getting the message, he stopped caressing her at once, but he also broke their kiss and pulled back to peer at her.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his body as stiff as a rod.
Jess didn’t even stop to think. She was trembling with need, her body dripping with desire. It knew what it wanted. She nodded abruptly and tugged his head back down to reclaim his lips. Much to her relief, even as he bent his head to kiss her, he clasped her hips, and when his tongue thrust into her mouth, he also thrust himself into her body. It was a double whammy that had her crying out into his mouth as her body closed around him, legs wrapping around his hips, arms around his neck, her lips sucking desperately as he withdrew and then thrust back into her.
Jess’s brain winked out then, able only to handle the mounting pleasure coursing through her and unable to process much else. She was vaguely aware of his shifting and that he was suddenly sitting in his straight-backed chair with her facing him in his lap, his hands urging her to ride him, and then one of his hands slid between them to begin to touch her again and Jess screamed as that barely started caress pushed her over the edge. Her release hit her with the violence of a tsunami so that she was hardly aware of Raffaele’s shout joining her own before darkness rushed in to wipe out her awareness.
It took Jess a moment to get her bearings when she woke up. At first, she had no idea where she was or how she’d got there except that she was sitting up slumped against something rather than lying down. She also didn’t seem to have the strength to move. Her body was still quivering like a harp string after it’s been plucked. That thought gave her pause. Still quivering? Oh. Right. She and Raffaele had—
Jess opened her eyes. They were seated at the dining table in the living room of the men’s suite. Well, Raffaele was seated at the table; she was still on his lap, facing him, her body slumped against his chest, her head resting—and mouth drooling—on his shoulder.
Grimacing, she closed her mouth and then her eyes to take stock. So, okay, she’d just had the best mind-blowing, earthshaking sex of her life. That was good, right? So, Vasco shouldn’t be such a temptation again if he got his hands on her. That made life a little less scary. Knowing she had this to turn to, she should be able to resist the lure of the vampire pirate and avoid becoming his soulless vampire/pirate bride, roaming the high seas, feeding on poor unsuspecting tourists.
Definitely good, Jess decided, and then gave her head a little shake. She was no shrinking violet. She’d dated in high school and university, and had sex with a handful of different boyfriends along the way. She considered herself experienced, and she’d thought at least two of her lovers in the past had been superskilled, but she had never before enjoyed sex so hot and passionate that it had left her a mindless, quivering mass near the end, and then unconscious once it was over. Good Lord! What was that? First Vasco had made her a mindless twit, and now Raffaele had just blown her mind entirely. Was it the men? Or did she have a tumor or something that was causing a release of hormones that would make sex with any man seem like the be-all and end-all?
Jess frowned at the thought. If just Vasco or Raffaele had affected her like this, that would have been one thing. But having two of them causing this reaction in her so close together was suspect. She might have a serious health issue here.
“Jess?” That murmur by her ear was accompanied by his hand sliding slowly up her back.
The caress made her groan as her body reacted eagerly to the touch. Jess was quite sure that, if it could, her skin would pull itself from her body and wrap itself around him like a blanket. Honestly, his touch was leaving a tingling path in its wake, she noted as his hand paused and started back down the way it had come in what was probably supposed to be a soothing caress, but was just exciting the hell out of her.
Hoping to end the caress, Jess raised her head and sat up. Big mistake, she realized at once. Not only did Raffaele immediately focus on her breasts now in front of his face within licking distance, but her lower body shifting on his reminded her of what they’d been doing when she’d passed out. He was still inside her, and while he’d apparently deflated and slid partway out after finding his satisfaction, he was now swelling again . . . and pushing back up into her as he did. Groaning, Jess closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she fought not to shift on top of him again to encourage the growth happening.
“Jess.”
His voice was almost a growl this time, and she opened her eyes just in time to see his mouth close over one already hardening nipple.
“Oh, God,” Jess breathed, and then moaned as his mouth sent excitement whipping through her body once more. And then his hand slid between them again and he began to caress her. That was all he did, suckle her breast and caress her. Jess moved in response to his touch, her hips shifting, but she wasn’t riding him. She was chasing the pleasure he offered as he urged her to lean her upper body back against the table and bent over her, his mouth and tongue toying with first one nipple, and then licking their way to the other as his fingers danced over the damp eager flesh above where they were joined.
Her second orgasm came so hard and fast Jess almost bit her tongue in her surprise and then she screamed and thrashed on his lap briefly before welcoming the soothing embrace of the darkness that followed.
It was knocking at the door that woke Raffaele. Blinking his eyes open, he lifted his head abruptly and stared at Jess. While she still rested in his lap, her legs hanging limply on either side of his, she had fainted and fallen back, her upper body resting on the table, her face in repose and her breasts on display. She was beautiful, a feast to the eyes, and he couldn’t resist taking in his fill.
“Room service.”
The words pushed through his fascination and he glanced toward the door with a frown and then began to move. Slipping his arms around Jess, he stood and then grimaced when his body responded to the movement. He was still inside of her, and had to lift her off of his again-growing cock, and then shift her and scoop her up into his arms before carrying her quickly to the bedroom. Raffaele laid her gently on the bed and covered her, then hurried back out of the room, pulling the door quietly closed behind him. He then put himself back in his pants and did them up as he hurried to the door.
The knocking hadn’t come again after the shout, so Raffaele wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to nothing. Stepping out into the open landing, he peered in the direction of the elevators and spotted the worker wheeling the cart back up the hall. Raffaele called out and the man glanced back, smiled, and then turned the cart to head back.
“Sorry. We’d fallen asleep,” Raffaele murmured when the man reached him.
“Ah,” the waiter said wisely, and then wheeled the cart into the room when Raffaele held it open for him.
Raffaele let the door slide closed and then followed the man across the living room.
The waiter wheeled the cart up to the table by the windows, but then retrieved a cleaning cloth and a spray bottle of cleaning fluid from the cabinet of the cart.
“Everything is always wet this time of year,” the man commented as he moved to the table.
Raffaele started to nod, but then stilled as he noted the dry spots on the table. One was definitely an ass print, he thought, and noted handprints as well before it all disappeared under a mist of cleaning fluid. Deciding it was probably a good thing Jess wasn’t awake and out here right now, Raffaele left the man to it and moved to the tray to look over the many covered plates, the coffee carafe, a small pitcher of orange juice, and a smaller one of cream. It looked to him as if everything was there.
The sound of voices woke Jess. Opening her eyes, she peered around at the bedroom with two double beds in it, confused at first as to how she’d got there. The last thing she remembered doing was—
Oh, Jess thought, recalling exactly what she’d last been doing. Or what she and Raffaele had been doing, she supposed as memories rushed through her. They left her both stunned and turned on all over again. Dear God, the man had some serious mojo going for him. She’d thought Vasco hot, but Raffaele had sent her up in flames. The pleasure she’d experienced had been off the charts and literally mind-blowing. This was the first time Jess had ever been so overwhelmed by pleasure that she’d actually fainted. She hadn’t even known that was a thing, but had fainted both times after finding her release. As alarming as that was, it was also addictive. Her body was humming and wanting again just from the memory of what they’d done. If Raffaele were there with her now, she’d be reaching for him.
Male laughter drew her attention to the door, and Jess sat up and glanced around. Her clothes weren’t there, which meant they were probably still on the floor where they’d landed when Raffaele had tugged them off of her. Out there where the men were, no doubt giving Raffaele’s cousins a clear idea of what they’d been doing while the two men had lounged around the pool.
Yeah, that wasn’t embarrassing at all, she thought, and then rolled her eyes at herself. She was a grown-up. They were all grown-ups. Sex was a grown-up thing, she lectured herself as she slid out of the bed and walked quickly to the open closet to grab one of the hotel robes. It was a waffled white affair with gold trimming. Not especially soft or comfy, she decided as she pulled it on. But that probably kept guests from stealing them.
Jess started to tie the belt around her waist, but then paused. Now that she was standing upright, she was aware of the dampness between her legs. In fact, it was starting to run down one inner thigh. Grimacing, she turned and headed into the bathroom.
A quick shower was in order here before she had to face Raffaele’s cousins, she decided. Quick was the key word. Jess didn’t linger under the water. She got in, cleaned herself up, and got out. She was just as quick about drying herself off, but found herself considering the bags of clothes as she did. She briefly contemplated grabbing and putting on a fresh pair of shorts, underwear, and a top, but then shook her head. She wasn’t wasting the money on another outfit. There was nothing wrong with the clothes she’d had on earlier. She hadn’t worn them long enough for them to even be dirty. She just had to fetch them.
Back in the robe, she tied it up this time, ran a brush through her damp hair, and headed through the bedroom. She paused at the doors to the living room, though, her head tilting as she noted that the men’s voices appeared to be growing fainter as if they were moving away. She listened briefly until the sound of the suite door closing reached her ears, and then opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out to see Raffaele turning to face her.
“Oh! You’re up,” he said with a surprised smile as he moved back toward her.
Relaxing now that she saw they were alone, Jess nodded and stepped into the living room, her gaze shifting around the floor in search of her clothes. Spotting her T-shirt in a little heap near the couch, she moved toward it, saying, “Yes. Did your cousins head back to the pool?”
“Cousins?” Raffaele asked with confusion, and then said, “Oh, you thought—No, that was room service, delivering our breakfast.”
Jess straightened with her T-shirt in hand and stuffed it in one of her robe’s large pockets as she glanced toward the table. She’d forgotten that he’d said he’d ordered breakfast. Now she recalled, and gaped at the various covered plates on the table. That explained why the waiter had been in the room so long. There were at least half a dozen large covered plates, but several smaller ones as well. There were also two white thermos carafes, cream and sugar, a variety of jams, butter, and what looked like little containers of peanut butter on an uncovered plate.
“Are your cousins joining us?” she asked and, spotting her shorts and underwear in a knotted ball next to the table, moved quickly to scoop them up. She stuffed them in the robe’s other pocket as Raffaele moved to join her.
“No. It’s just the two of us,” Raffaele said, pulling out her chair for her.
“Thank you.” Jess settled in the chair and smiled crookedly as she watched him walk around to sit down. Most of her friends would have thought his manners were old-fashioned, but her father used to do little things like this for her mother. Holding her chair, getting the door for her, carrying things for her, letting her order first in restaurants . . . Jess had dated a lot of guys who didn’t bother with such niceties, but she liked that Raffaele did it. It made her feel special somehow.
“What?” Raffaele asked suddenly when he caught her expression.
“Nothing,” she said at once, and turned her attention to the table crowded with plates and cups. It must have taken the waiter forever to transfer the items from the cart to the table, and Jess found herself hoping that Raffaele had tipped him. The resort was all-inclusive, but Jess still tipped. Not extravagantly. She was still a student, after all, but she did tip here and there as she could for good service. She knew a lot of guests at the resort didn’t do that, precisely because it was all-inclusive. But with one of her jobs being a part-time booze jockey in a bar, Jess knew how hard the service industry could be. The majority of customers were okay, some were even great, but some could be demanding pricks, and others ungrateful assholes. Unfortunately, it only took one asshole to wreck your whole day. So, she tried to be patient and kind and always tipped to balance the scales.
“It smells good,” Raffaele said as he began removing the silver covers.
“Yes, but there seems to be an awful lot of food here,” Jess commented.
“I was not sure what you would like, so ordered a variety,” he explained.
Jess just shook her head and started to help remove lids as she said, “You know room service isn’t included in the all-inclusive thing, right? Your meals in the restaurants are free, but room service costs extra.”
“Yes,” Raffaele said with unconcern as he set the last cover aside.
Shrugging to herself, Jess peered at the selection. Her eyes widened as they slid over pancakes, bacon, sausage, omelets, and hash browns.
“I hope there’s something you like,” Raffaele said when she simply stared at the offerings.
“There is,” she assured him. “Several somethings I like, in fact.”
“Good.” He relaxed a bit and peered over the food too. But when he noticed her glancing toward the carafes on the table, he said, “Orange juice and coffee.”
“Wonderful,” Jess said on a sigh, reaching for the coffee first. She poured for herself and then for him, and then set the carafe aside and doctored her coffee with cream and sugar, vaguely aware that Raffaele followed suit.
Both hungry, they ate in silence at first, but as Jess started to feel full, she found herself glancing toward Raffaele with curiosity and then suddenly blurted, “Are you married?”
She didn’t know where the question came from. She hadn’t really thought it out. The words had simply tumbled from her lips. It had been one of the possible explanations she’d given herself earlier for why he hadn’t hit on her. Apparently, now that he had, and it had gone so far so fast, she’d worried about it. Raffaele stiffened and then raised shocked eyes to her face.
“No,” he said firmly. “I’d hardly make love to you if I was already mated.”
Jess blinked at the term make love. They barely knew each other, so calling it lovemaking was a bit of a stretch, but it certainly sounded better than some of the other terms he could have used. Offering him an apologetic smile, she said, “I didn’t really think you were.”
“But you wanted to be sure,” he suggested dryly.
Jess shrugged. “Some people wouldn’t care, but . . .”
“You do,” he said quietly, and set his fork and knife down to meet her gaze and assure her. “I have no wife, no girlfriend, no mate of any kind. I am completely free of entanglement except now for you. I would never be unfaithful to a mate.”
Jess relaxed and nodded, but asked, “Recent breakup?”
His eyebrows rose at the question, and he shook his head, but then narrowed his gaze and asked, “What about you? Husband, boyfriend, recent breakup?”
Jess shook her head. “My messed-up hours don’t leave much time for dating. I work the bar most weekends when everyone else is on their dates, have classes in the late morning and afternoons, and the gig at the clinic sometimes in the afternoon and sometimes in the evening. So, unless the guy wants to do things between nine at night and 4 a.m. on weekdays, or after the bar closes on the weekend . . .” She shrugged. “It makes dating hard.”
“I imagine it does,” he murmured, and then asked, “Between nine at night and 4 a.m.?”
Jess wrinkled her nose. “The counseling center closes at nine, and I’ve always been a night owl.” She shrugged. “Probably to do with my childhood in the foster homes, lying awake at night listening for footsteps or shouting and such. Now it’s just habit after years of training, I think. I don’t usually fall asleep before three or four in the morning most nights, so I schedule my classes for afternoons, or later in the morning if they aren’t available after lunch.”
“Perfect,” he said with a smile.
Jess raised her eyebrows. “Why is that perfect?”
Raffaele blinked, and then shook his head. “Sorry. I just meant . . . I’m a night owl too.”
“Really?” she asked with surprise. “I’d think it would be hard to be a night owl as a construction worker.”
“I don’t actually work in construction,” he explained. “I work for the family construction company, but I’m actually an architect.”
“Oh,” she said with surprise, and then smiled wryly. “I guess that’ll teach me to assume things.”
They both fell briefly silent again, and Jess picked at the food remaining on her plate, and then asked, “Do you suppose there are any American banks in Santo Domingo?”
It had occurred to her that if there was a branch of her bank here in the Dominican, she might be able to withdraw money from her account once she had a passport to prove her identity. Maybe. Hopefully.
“I do not know,” Raffaele admitted, his solemn gaze moving slowly over her. “If you have need of money, I—”
“No,” Jess said quickly, shutting him down. She was not taking money from the man, and she was paying him back for whatever clothes she used. She’d rather try to sneak onto Vasco’s ship and get her stuff back than take money from Raffaele or his cousins. Borrowing from her family was one thing, but . . . Well, the truth is, she couldn’t move herself to actually borrow from them either. That had always been a thing with her. She hated asking anyone for anything. Probably because she was afraid of rejection or some damned thing. She didn’t know. It was just the way things were. She would rather do things on her own than depend on anyone.
Realizing how silent the room had gone, she glanced toward Raffaele and then shifted uncomfortably when she noted the way he was watching her.
“You have issues with money,” he said quietly.
Jess shrugged. “My parents did all right, but they weren’t exactly the Rockefellers. And school is expensive . . . as I found out after they died,” she added under her breath. It seemed Raffaele had incredible hearing, however, and caught her words.
“Did your parents not—” he began with a frown, and she cut him off.
“My parents were wonderful, hard-working people. I was their only heir and got everything. Unfortunately, it was kind of a mixed bag. My parents had been paying for my education up until then. Whenever I asked if it was too expensive and suggested I should quit for a while and work to pay my own way later, they insisted everything was fine, that they’d put away for this. What they didn’t tell me was that they had put away what they’d expected to need for three or four years of college. My going further and changing majors, however, meant they’d dug deep into their retirement savings. Apparently, they felt they could sell the house later, buy somewhere smaller, and sink the extra money back into their retirement.”
“I see,” he murmured.
Jess shrugged. “I got the house, the little bit left of their retirement fund, and the insurance. What was left in the retirement fund was just enough to pay to have my parents’ bodies shipped back home and have nice funerals for them. The insurance was the true blessing. It was just enough for me to finish my schooling.”
“And yet you work two jobs,” he pointed out with a small frown.
“Of course. Well, I have to eat,” she said with amusement. “And pay taxes on my parents’ house, as well as water, phone bills, internet, etc.”
“The insurance wasn’t enough to cover that?” he asked with surprise.
“Did I not mention school is expensive?” she asked with amusement.
Raffaele was silent for a minute and then asked, “You were unwilling to sell your parents’ house to ease the situation?”
Jess glanced down at her plate, and pushed a bit of egg around with her fork before saying, “It’s foolish, I know. My life would be a lot easier if I did, but . . .” Grimacing, she raised her head, and admitted, “I’m not ready to let it go yet. And I may never be. It’s all I have left of them, and where I spent the best and happiest part of my life so far. I’d like to keep it and hopefully someday raise my own children there.”
“You would like to have children, then?”
She glanced at him with surprise. “Well, sure I do. And hopefully I will.”
“Why hopefully?” he asked with interest.
Jess shrugged and sat back in her seat. “Well, I’m twenty-seven now. By the time I get my degree, establish a career, and then find a man . . . I’ll be lucky if my ovaries haven’t shriveled up and fallen off. At least that’s what Aunt Zita tells me,” she added with amusement.
“Is she related to Allison?” Raffaele asked with interest.
Jess burst out laughing and nodded. “She’s Allison’s mother, and the two are as charming as each other.”
“Hmm. The apple never falls far from the tree, and it seems every family has at least one apple tree,” he said dryly.
Jess grinned and nodded in agreement.
“Well . . .” He stood and began to stack plates. “I suppose I should shift this all out to the hallway and call down for someone to collect it.”
Nodding, Jess stood and helped, gathering the plates closest to her and stacking them as he was doing. Shifting the collection of dishes to one hand, she then picked up one of the carafes with the other and led the way to the door.
“Wait, let me get the do—Oh, I—”
Jess glanced back and chuckled as she saw the exasperated expression on his face as he peered down at his full hands. Shaking her head, she caught the carafe between her inner arm and chest, and used her now-free hand to open the door.
“After you,” she said lightly.
“Drink jockey, did you say?” he asked with amusement as he stepped out into the hall to set his dishes and carafe down.
“Booze jockey,” she corrected, passing him the items she held when he straightened and reached for them.
“Booze jockey,” he murmured, turning to set the dishes down.
It was when he bent that she saw them. Across the children’s play area next to their building, standing in the shade from the awning of the not-yet-open pizza restaurant on the edge of the resort property. Vasco and Cristo. Just standing there, watching them.
“I think—Jess?” Raffaele cut himself off to ask as he straightened and saw her face. Clasping her upper arms, he peered at her with concern and then turned to glance over his shoulder. She knew he’d seen them when he stiffened and whipped back around.
The next thing Jess knew she was back in the hotel room and the door was closed. It happened crazy fast. That or she’d blacked out briefly, because it seemed like she blinked and was in a different spot.
“It’s all right,” Raffaele assured her, urging her away from the door.
“It’s not all right,” she responded dully, but stopped and turned back to him to ask, “What if they follow us to Santo Domingo? What if they—?”
“They won’t follow us,” he promised her quietly. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”
“How?” she asked, not believing him, and then she added with frustration, “How are they even out there? They’re vampires and it’s daylight. It was daylight when they came into the room Allison and I share too. They shouldn’t be able to be out now.” Frowning, she added, “But it was daylight when they lured us onto their ship too. Mostly anyway. It was close to sunset then, though, and I thought—” Breaking off, she glanced to Raffaele to see the concern on his face and sighed unhappily.
Great. Now he’d think she had a screw loose. And she hadn’t even told him about what happened on the ship. She’d expected to have to come up with a lie, but he and his cousins hadn’t even asked . . . which was kind of odd, she decided.
Frowning, Jess narrowed her eyes and asked, “Why haven’t you asked me what happened to make me jump off the pirate ship?”
Raffaele stilled briefly and then raised his eyebrows and said, “I assumed it was too traumatic for you to want to talk about, and that you’d tell me when you were ready. Women don’t usually choose shark-infested waters over nice sturdy sailboats unless they feel more threatened by something on the ship than the sharks in the water.”
“I suppose now you think I’m a crazy lady because of this talk of—”
“No,” he interrupted firmly. “I do not think you are crazy. I think you are beautiful, and smart, and strong, and so very brave. I think you’re wonderful, Jess. A wonder, and I think I was blessed to find you.”
Jess stared up at him wide-eyed, his words echoing through her head. “You do?”
The small, uncertain tone of her own voice was somewhat startling. She hardly sounded like the strong brave woman he’d just described. Instead, she sounded young, unsure, and even needy. All of which she supposed she was. Jess liked to think she was strong and brave, and she had felt that way when her parents had still lived. They’d showered her with love and care and support, but when they’d died, she’d lost all of that loving support. Despite the care and concern of her aunts and uncles, she’d felt abandoned, alone. There was a difference between close family like parents or a husband, and relatives once removed like aunts and uncles and cousins.
“Sì, bella, I do,” he assured her, and Jess was just thinking the words sounded oddly like a vow, when his mouth closed over hers.
Jess wasn’t at all surprised at the passion that burst up through her at the contact. It had never really left, but had simmered under the surface from the moment she’d woken and all through their breakfast, waiting to be released again. Now it rushed up through her like a train barreling through a tunnel and she opened for him, kissing him back as eagerly as a starving woman falling on food as her arms slid around his neck.
She tried to press close to him then, but Raffaele held her back, pressing her against the wall with his hands at her waist, before releasing her to tug at the tie of the robe. It undid easily and fell away. The sides of the robe immediately slid apart a couple of inches, but it wasn’t enough for Raffaele. Breaking their kiss, he glanced down. Jess followed his gaze and watched as his hands pushed the sides of the white cloth to either side, leaving her arms, shoulders, and back the only thing it covered.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, one hand raising so that he could brush his knuckles lightly over one nipple. He watched it pebble under his attention, and then his other hand closed over her free breast and his gaze lifted to her face so that he could watch her expression as he began to caress her.
Jess tried to meet his gaze, but her eyes wanted to close as pleasure washed through her. Biting her lip, she forced them wider and groaned as her body arched, her shoulders pressing into the wall and the rest of her thrusting forward as he caressed her.
“So beautiful,” he repeated, one hand dropping down to slide between her legs.
“Oh, God, Raffaele,” Jess gasped, reaching for him as his fingers slid across her slick skin. Much to her relief, he kissed her again then, his tongue thrusting out to urge her lips apart so that it could slide inside. But it was just a quick, hard kiss before he tore his mouth away. When he released her breasts as well and clasped her waist instead, she opened her eyes and then glanced down with confusion when he was no longer standing in front of her.
He’d dropped to his knees, she saw with surprise, and watched as he pressed a kiss to her trembling stomach. But then she gasped and closed her eyes again as he urged her legs farther apart and placed the next kiss to her inner thigh before nibbling and kissing his way upward. When he suddenly tugged one leg over his shoulder, opening her to him, the light teasing kisses stopped.
Flattening one hand against the wall, and diving the other into his hair to help her maintain balance, Jess cried out, and banged her head against the wall as Raffaele began hungrily lashing and sucking at her core. The man certainly knew what he was doing. Using just the right amount of pressure, and the perfect tempo, he drove her to the edge of pleasure over and over again with his mouth and tongue, only to retreat at the last moment, his attentions becoming soothing, easing her back from that edge, once, twice, and then a third time.
Jess gasped, groaned, moaned, and begged by turn, her hands plucking and then pushing at his shoulders. She wanted him to stop doing that and kiss her. She wanted him never to stop. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him, and she was contemplating pushing Raffaele onto his back and mounting him to find that release he was holding hostage when he finally gave it to her. Releasing the grip he’d had on her legs to keep her in place, he added his fingers to the mix of pleasure he was giving her. She felt him push a finger inside her as he continued to torment the nub at the core of her excitement, and then it withdrew, and two pushed up the next time, and that was it. Jess threw her head back on a scream as a world of pleasure rushed at her, sending her body convulsing and shimmying until her legs couldn’t hold her anymore. She felt them collapsing, but found it hard to care. She was already sliding into the waiting darkness.
It was the sound of a phone ringing that woke Jess. Sensing movement beside her, she turned her head in time to see Raffaele finish getting to his feet and dash to the end table where his phone lay.
“Hello?” Raffaele murmured, and turned to peer at her, his eyebrows rising when he saw that she was awake. Flashing a smile, he moved back to offer his hand to help her up as he said, “Yes, Zani. We’re done with breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Jess murmured once she was on her feet, and then drew her robe closed and felt around at her sides for the ends of the sash.
“Ah, yes, well, there is a problem with that plan,” he announced grimly.
Finding the ends, she quickly tied the robe closed and then glanced to Raffaele with curiosity, wondering what he was talking about. What plan?
Raffaele frowned and turned away to cross the room. That and the way his voice lowered as he spoke again told her that he’d tried to keep her from hearing in the hopes of avoiding upsetting her.
“Because the bastard’s standing by the pizza shack downstairs watching our door. Or he was. Check and see if he’s there on your way back . . . No. Don’t scare them off. They’ll just move somewhere else and we won’t know where they are. Just see if they’re still there.”
The bastard he was talking about was Vasco, Jess knew, and recalled spotting the man as they’d set the breakfast dishes outside. She’d been terribly upset about it at the time, but a kiss from Raffaele had pushed the other man from her thoughts completely. Raffaele was better than drugs in that way, she thought wryly, and then turned her worries to Vasco.
Jess was no longer afraid of giving in to the man’s seductions. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she suddenly wouldn’t find him attractive just because she’d had sex with Raffaele. But she was quite sure the fact that Raffaele could give her so much pleasure would give her enough backbone to resist the attraction she felt for Vasco. After all, Raffaele could show her—if not more, then at least equal—pleasure to that which Vasco had stirred in her. And he wasn’t a dead, soulless, bloodsucking vampire.
“Zani and Santo are coming back and we’re going to figure out how to get out of here without Vasco seeing us and following.”
Jess pushed her thoughts away and smiled crookedly at Raffaele as he slid his phone into his back pocket and moved toward her.
“Then I’d better go get dressed,” she said, and then wrinkled her nose as her gaze slid over him still in his jeans and T-shirt. The man hadn’t even got the chance to undress when they’d had sex. They’d both been too desperate to take the time to strip him.
Shaking her head, she turned and headed through the bedroom and to the bathroom, tugging the T-shirt and her underwear and shorts from the pockets of the robe as she went. They were a little wrinkled, but she would just have to live with that, Jess decided as she pushed the bathroom door closed. She started to turn away, but came up short when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror.
Mouth dropping open, Jess gaped at herself. Her face was flushed, her eyes were sparkling, but it was her hair that had her staring at herself with dismay. Medusa had nothing on her. Jess’s hair was a tangled mess, standing up in every direction. She didn’t recall Raffaele even touching her hair, so assumed this was a result of something she’d done. Rolling her head back and forth against the wall as he’d pleasured her perhaps, or the unfortunate result of her passing out while it was still wet and it drying in a dark cloud around her head.
Good Lord, how had the man not looked at her and squawked in horror? Or laughed his head off? Instead, he’d smiled gently. The man was obviously a saint, she thought. The polar opposite to Vasco’s evil. She was so lucky to have met him, Jess thought on a little sigh, and then grabbed Raffaele’s brush off the sink counter and began to drag it through her hair, trying to tame the wild mass. She had to dress and get back out there. Zani and Santo were returning and they were going to come up with a plan for her to escape the evil pirate and his lusty ways.
“Vasco and Cristo are still there,” Zanipolo announced grimly as he led Santo into the room. “You should have let us handle them.”
“Handle them how?” Raffaele asked dryly. “We have no rights down here, Zani. The Council that governs this area has to handle them.”
“But they aren’t,” Zanipolo pointed out with irritation.
“No, they aren’t,” Raffaele agreed. “But they might decide to take care of us if we break their laws and kill a couple of immortals. We aren’t hunters down here.”
Zani grimaced at the words, but then nodded, and said, “Still, we could have at least scared them off.”
“If you managed to scare them, which I highly doubt you could, they—”
“What do you mean you highly doubt we could?” Zanipolo demanded, going stiff with outrage.
“They’re pirates, Zani,” Raffaele pointed out patiently. “I suspect they were real pirates back in the day. That means they aren’t the sort to scare easily. But if you had managed to scare, or even just harass, them away from the pizza shack, they would have simply moved somewhere else, somewhere less visible, and then they’d see us leave and follow. That’s the last thing I want. I need to get Jess a safe distance away from them.”
Zani frowned, but then nodded and sighed. “Right. So . . . what do you want to do?”
Raffaele was silent for a minute and then turned to cross to the sliding glass doors. Stepping out onto the balcony, he peered around. There was a palm tree to one side of the balcony, blocking part of the view of the pools and the lounge chairs around them. Which meant the balcony was blocked from view too.
“You’re thinking of getting her out this way?” Santo asked, his gaze sliding around the crowded area in the center of the buildings as he joined him.
“Yes.” Turning, Raffaele strode back inside and moved to the pull-out couch. “Jess can’t leave through the door so long as the pirates are standing out there watching. They’ll follow us, and I promised I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“So, she has to leave another way,” Zanipolo reasoned and, not having heard the exchange between Raffaele and Santo on the deck, asked, “What are you thinking?”
“The balcony.” Raffaele tugged the blanket off the bed, tossed it over the chair, and then pulled the top sheet off and straightened. “I’ll lower her down to the next balcony, climb down and lower her to the ground floor. Once we’re safely away, you can grab our bags and follow. They won’t follow you if Jess isn’t with you. You can meet us in front of the hotel. I’ll arrange a car while we wait for you.”
“You don’t think the suitcases might make them suspicious enough to have one of them follow us?” Santo asked dryly.
Raffaele frowned at the suggestion.
“And lowering Jess down from the third floor tied up in a sheet is likely to attract a hell of a lot of attention from the people sunbathing around the pool,” Zanipolo pointed out.
“I know,” Raffaele growled with frustration. “But she can’t go out the door.”
Pacing to the windows, he peered out and propped his hands on his hips. Raffaele considered the few options he had and then relaxed a bit and nodded. “We’ll wait until dark and do it then and all of us will leave the same way.”
“That means a later start for Santo Domingo,” Zanipolo pointed out.
Raffaele shrugged. “It can’t be helped. We weren’t going to get there in time to go to the embassy anyway.”
“Jess might be upset,” Santo said quietly.
“I’ll let her make the decision. Wait until dark and slip away, or leave now and risk Vasto following us.”
“Vasco,” Zanipolo corrected.
“Whatever,” Raffaele muttered, and glanced toward the open French doors and the bedroom beyond as the sound of the bathroom door opening reached them.
Jess walked out to join them, a troubled expression on her face. Pausing in the doorway to the bedroom, she glanced from man to man and asked, “What are we going to do?”
“That’s up to you,” Raffaele said solemnly.