Well, that´s just dandy

Well, that´s just dandy
“Well, that’s just dandy,” she said, taking his silence for assent. “We’re agreed. This is casual sex. If I agree to those terms, I assume you’ll have no objections.” She gathered the sheet around her, dragged it off the bed and marched into the bathroom, spine rigid, shoulders back. She shot one last heated look over her shoulder. “Since this is all so damned casual, I don’t expect you to buy me dinner. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be out of here and you can get back to that paperwork.”
Then she slammed the bathroom door behind her.
The roar of the shower drowned out her hot, salty tears. At least, she hoped it did. And if Rafe had a single shred of decency in his body, he would be gone when she came out.
Instead, as she leaned against the wall of the shower and let her tears flow, the curtain was suddenly yanked back. Still in his jeans, Rafe stepped into the shower with her, his expression grim and determined. She was too shocked to react.
Rafe tucked a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed futilely at the mix of streaming tears and flowing water from the pounding shower. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking contrite.
“For what?”
“For upsetting you. I was just trying to make sure that we were on the same page. I wasn’t trying to diminish what had happened.”
“But you did,” she said, her voice catching. “You made it seem cheap and tawdry and unimportant.”
He sighed, gathering her close. “It was anything but that. In fact, that’s the problem. You caught me off guard. I never expected to feel so much, to want so much, especially with things so uncertain.”
“What things? I thought everything between you and me was finally straightforward. You want Bobby. I agreed to help you in any way I can.”
“It’s more than that, Hanna. You have to see that.” “I don’t,” she insisted. “You’ll have to explain it.”
He pushed wet strands of hair back from her face, a smile tugging at his lips. “You want an explanation here? Now?”
“You picked the place,” she pointed out.
“But there are so many more interesting things we could be doing,” he said, his gaze drifting from mouth to breasts, then lower still.
Hanna could see the hard bulge of his arousal pressing against soaking wet denim. When he ran a finger along the curve of her breast, then skimmed a nail across the peak, she shuddered. Desire, hot and urgent, slammed through her once more. All thoughts of resolving their differences fled as she reached for the

zipper on his jeans, slid it slowly down, then took the hard thrust of his arousal in her hand.
Rafe moaned, then lifted her until she could straddle him, her back braced against the wall. There, with the shower cascading over them like a waterfall, their bodies slick and hot and hungry, they streaked toward a violent, earth- shattering climax that left them panting and clinging together.
When they could move again, when they had caught their breath, Rafe lowered her to unsteady legs, then reached for the soap and gently washed her. Then he cut off the water, reached for a towel and dried first her, then himself.
“Now then,” he said, his tone sounding deliberately casual. “What do you say we get dressed and go get some dinner?”
Hanna knew what he was doing. He wanted to get them onto neutral turf before renewing the discussion of the future.
“I could call Tony’s and have a pizza delivered right here,” she suggested. “Bad idea,” he said at once.
“Why?”
“I seem to be having trouble keeping my hands to myself.”
She regarded him with amusement. “And that’s a problem because…?” “Because I’m starving and you must be, too.”
“A pizza would solve that,” she said.
“So would a nice, quiet dinner in a restaurant where we’d be obligated to behave ourselves. We could have a little wine, a little pleasant conversation.”
“Why do I think that the conversation you have in mind will be anything but pleasant?”
His jaw set stubbornly. “Hanna—”
“Okay, say I agree to go out, will you agree not to bring up our relationship?”
He seemed to be torn, but he finally nodded. “And no mention of Bobby?”
“Okay,” he agreed with obvious reluctance. “What’s left?”
She patted his cheek. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. If not, we’ll invite Tony and Francesca to join us. You can help me convince him to take her to Italy while I cover things here for him.”
Rafe paused in pulling on a clean shirt to stare at her. “You’re talking temporarily, right?”
“Yes. Why the resigned look?”
“Because I was hoping that now that we have this agreement, you’d be ready to go back to New York.”
“If you’re anxious to go home, go,” she said, though her heart felt suddenly

empty at the prospect of him leaving. “Ashlee or I will keep you posted if Bobby turns up.”
Rafe shook his head. “Not that I don’t trust you, but I’ll feel better if I’m around to keep a close eye on you.”
Something in his voice alarmed her. “Because you still don’t trust me?” “No, because we have no way of knowing whether Bobby took that money
because he’s desperate for some reason.” “Desperate? What on earth do you mean?”
“If he’s gotten himself mixed up in something bad, something like gambling debts or big-time drug deals, he could be in danger. I don’t want him dragging you into that.”
The thought of there being any actual danger in all of this had never occurred to Hanna. The prospect of losing Café Tuscany had been daunting enough.
“Surely, if there were any danger, he would warn me,” she said slowly but without much conviction. After all, if Bobby had been concerned about her at all, he would never have put her in this position in the first place.
“We can’t be sure of that,” Rafe said, his expression grim.
He brushed a finger across her forehead. “Don’t look so worried. I am not going to let anything happen to you.”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go. I recommend a big plate of pasta and some wine.”
Hanna sighed. Normally that was a prescription she would recommend herself. Tonight, though, she had a feeling it was going to take a whole lot more to chase away the sudden butterflies in her stomach.
She was still unnerved when they reached Tony’s. Peg Lafferty, who’d been with Tony since he opened, led them to a table near the kitchen. “I know Tony’s going to be running in and out to talk to you, so this will be more convenient.”
“Where’s Francesca tonight?” Hanna asked. “Home. She’s not feeling well.”
“What’s wrong? Do you know?”
“I’m not sure,” Peggy said, her expression filled with concern. “She’s been staying home a lot lately. Tony doesn’t talk much about it, and I haven’t wanted to pry.”
He hadn’t said anything to Hanna, either, but she had none of Peggy’s reticence about prying. She intended to get to the bottom of this. “Tell him I’m here, okay?”
“Will do,” Peggy promised. “Everyone’s eating late tonight, it seems. He’s got a half dozen orders going right now, but he’ll be out soon. Can I bring you a

bottle of Chianti while you look over the menu?”