One More Sleepless Night Read Free

naked.
    Yet unless the thwack to his head was making him hallucinate, it appeared that, what with the long limbs entangled with his and the feel of her silky hair and soft skin beneath his hands, that was exactly the case.
    Cross with himself for even noticing what she looked like and what she was—or wasn’t—wearing when it couldn’t have been less relevant, Rafael scowled, and since that made the pounding in his head worse he let out a rough curse. He felt as if someone were drilling a hole through his skull while repeatedly punching him in the stomach.
    He hurt. Everywhere.
    As must she, given that he was lying on top of her and probably crushing the life out of her, he thought, hearing her muffled groan.
    She released his shoulders, let her knee drop and clapped one hand over her eyes, and he eased his arms away from underneath her, rolled off and lay back flat out on the floor. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply in an effort to stifle the pain and try and make some kind of sense of the last couple of minutes, but it didn’t work because none of this made any sense at all.
    ‘Oh, my God,’ said his assailant, her voice sounding hoarse with appal and breathlessness, and very English. ‘I’m so so sorry. I had no idea... Are you OK?’
    OK? Rafael wasn’t sure he’d ever be OK again. If anything, the pain in his head was getting worse. What on earth had she lamped him with? Surely not just a fist. If that was all it had taken he was in a worse state than he’d imagined.
    ‘Rafael?’ This time her voice was lower, softer, more concerned. Sexier, he thought, and got a bit sidetracked by the image of the two of them lying not on a cold hard stone floor but a soft warm bed, wearing considerably less clothing, with that voice whispering hot filthy things in his ear.
    And then she gave him a decidedly unsexy little slap on the cheek.
    Rafael flinched as the erotic vision vanished, and refocused. God, she’d just attacked him and he was fantasising about her? What was his problem?
    And what was her problem? Wasn’t practically knocking him out enough? Had she really had to slap him too? What did she have lined up next? A methodical and thorough assault of his entire body?
    Vaguely wondering what he’d ever done to womankind to deserve this torment on top of everything else he’d had to endure lately, he gingerly opened his eyes.
    And saw stars all over again because she was on her knees, leaning over him, and he was getting an eyeful of creamy cleavage. So close he could make out a spatter of faint freckles on the skin of her upper chest. So close he could smell the delicate floral notes of her scent. So tantalisingly close all he’d have to do was lift his head a handful of centimetres and he’d be able to nuzzle her neck.
    At the thought of that , his mouth watered, a wave of heat struck him square in the stomach and for the first time since she’d hit him he forgot about the pain throbbing away in his temple. The image of the two of them in that bed slammed back into his head, more vivid than before now that he had more detail to add, and he blinked at the intensity of it.
    ‘Thank God,’ she murmured, letting out a shaky breath, which made her chest jiggle and his pulse spike. ‘Are you all right?’
    How he managed it he had no idea but Rafael made himself drag his gaze up and look into her eyes. Eyes that were filled with worry, set in a face that was pale and, he thought, letting his gaze roam over it, perhaps a bit thinner than it ought to be.
    There was nothing thin about her mouth, however, he decided, staring at it and going momentarily dizzy as a fresh burst of heat shot through him. Her mouth was wide and generous and very very appealing, especially what with the way she’d caught the edge of her lower lip between her teeth and was nibbling at it.
    ‘Ow,’ he muttered, forcing himself to remember the faint sting of the slap because the alternative was yanking her down and giving in to