Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,59

you did was testify that he was competent to stand trial—which he was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She nodded miserably, desperately trying to believe what he was saying.

His gaze dipped to her mouth, then, slowly, deliberately, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

She was so startled she froze, expecting him to jerk back, like the last time he’d kissed her. But instead, he deepened the kiss. She shuddered and curled her fingers against him, pulling him closer. The dark shadows of the past faded. He kissed away every thought, every hurt. Teasing, tasting, his tongue tracing erotic circles with hers.

Her belly tightened and she moaned deep in her throat. How long had it been since she’d been held like this? The answer slammed into her. Never. She’d never been held or kissed like this. When Rafe’s lips moved against hers, heat shot through her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. How could he make her feel cherished and treasured and make her crave him with an intensity that was frightening, all at the same time?

When he ended the kiss, the sense of loss was palpable. She didn’t want him to stop. As if he knew what she was feeling, he didn’t pull back right away. His lips lingered against the corner of her mouth. Then he moved to her jawline, the column of her throat. He worshipped the sensitive skin on her neck, making her shiver with longing.

She breathed his name. “Rafe.”

His arms tightened around her and he buried his face against her neck. He drew a deep breath, his hard chest pressing against hers. Then he pulled back, pressed one more soft kiss against her lips and let her go.

They both sat back in their seats, staring out the windshield. Darby struggled to draw a normal breath, and from the sound of Rafe’s harsh breathing, he was struggling just as much as her.

Gradually the sensual haze he’d built in her began to fade. Her breathing returned to normal. Her heart stopped pounding in her chest and slowed to a steady rhythm.

And all the earlier doubts and recriminations slammed back into her.

“We sent an innocent man to prison,” she whispered.

“Yes.” His voice sounded defeated, broken, telling her he was thinking about Fullerton again, too.

“We ruined his life.”

Hesitation, then he murmured “Yes.”

Darby turned to look out the window as Rafe pulled back onto the highway.

* * *

AT ANY OTHER TIME in Darby’s life, if a devastatingly handsome man had taken her to a cozy cabin in the woods, miles from civilization, she’d have been excited. And she would have been awed by the pristine beauty surrounding her.

She would have stood by the lake behind the cabin, watching the sunset turn the water from deep blue to a rich burned gold. She would have marveled at the majestic, centuries-old oak trees, their thick branches clacking against each other in the light breeze that was picking up, carrying the scent of pine sprinkled in with the oaks.

But not today.

Because today she’d found out she’d helped destroy a man’s life, and that he in turn had then destroyed other lives. Victor Grant was dead. Mindy still hadn’t awoken from her coma, and probably never would. Clive McHenry was missing.

Darby’s shoulders sagged. She was just about to climb the steps to the front porch when lightning zigzagged overhead, flashing against the backs of the dark clouds rolling in, snuffing out the last of the sun’s light. Thunder rumbled, and the scent of rain was heavy in the air.

“It’s not safe to keep standing out here.” Rafe held the front door open, waiting.

His words had Darby fisting her hands and glancing around, expecting Fullerton to jump out at her from a nearby bush.

Rafe’s face softened with regret. “I was referring to the lightning. Or did you forget we live in the lightning capital of the world?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I wonder if the tourists realize that when they come to visit the Sunshine State.”

She hurried up the front steps, just making it onto the covered porch when the first fat raindrops started pinging onto the metal roof.

The tour Rafe gave her didn’t take long. There wasn’t much to see. A great room downstairs, with an open kitchen, and a full bath. A wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the open loft master bedroom and bathroom.

He set her suitcase beside the dresser, having left his duffel bag downstairs. Darby didn’t feel right taking the