of the most intimate acts possible.
He pulled out of her mouth with a muttered expletive and hauled her almost roughly to her feet. 'You did not have to do that, Emma,' he said. 'I do not want you to feel you have to bend over backwards to please me all the time. We are supposed to be equals.'
'We can only be equals if you come to care for me as much as I care for you,' she said, sliding her hands over his rock-hard pectoral muscles, her eyes gazing into his. 'I love you.'
He frowned at her, his body going tense. 'Emma...'He gave a little sigh and continued, 'You are confusing love with sexual desire. In the first rush of attraction it is an easy mistake to make. Believe me, what you are feeling now will peter out over time.'
'I don't believe that,' Emma said. 'This is not just sexual attraction. I love you.'
'A lot of women develop strong feelings for their first lover,' he said. 'You have waited longer than most so it is natural you would form a stronger attachment than normal, but it does not mean it is the real deal.'
'How can I convince you it is?' she asked.
He let out another heavy sigh as he ran his hands from her shoulders down to her wrists. 'I do not want you to love me, Emma,' he said. 'I do not want to be responsible for your unhappiness. I am not good at relationships. I do not like hurting people, but at times it is inevitable. I am selfish and pigheaded and enjoy my freedom too much. Let's just enjoy this while it lasts.'
'How can you not want to be loved?' she asked as she fought back tears. 'What is the point in living if no one loves you?'
'Stop it, Emma,' he said brusquely as he reached past her to turn off the shower spray. 'I told you the rules. I would appreciate it if you would stick to them.'
Emma followed him out of the shower, her heart contracting at his keep-away-from-me manner. He had just made love to her with such exquisite tenderness. Didn't that mean he felt at least something for her?
No, she reminded herself painfully. It did not.
She wrapped herself in a towel and turned away from him in case he saw the distress she felt. How could she have been so foolish? She had blurted out her feelings so gauchely. No wonder he had pulled away. She cringed at her lack of sophistication. Hot, scalding shame rushed through her again at how she had begged him to make love to her like the sex-starved singleton she was.
'Emma,' Rafaele said as he touched her on the shoulder. 'Look at me.'
Emma stiffened under his touch. 'Leave it, Rafaele,' she said without facing him. 'Please don't make me feel any more of a fool than I already do.'
He tugged her around to face him, his hands going to her waist to hold her steady, and his eyes locking on hers. 'I want you, Emma,' he said. 'Make no mistake about that. I want you.'
But not for ever, Emma thought with a little sag of her shoulders as his mouth came down. She gave herself up to his kiss, her arms going around his waist, holding her to him tightly, wondering even as she felt his body quiver with longing against hers how long it would be before he tired of her and finally let her go.
Emma woke up alone the next morning, but when she turned her head she could see where Rafaele's had been resting on the pillow beside hers. She reached out and touched the indention, her nostrils flaring to take in the fragrance of their lovemaking lingering on the sheets. She moved her body experimentally, the tiny tug of her inner muscles reminding her of the mind-blowing passion they had shared during the night. He had been so tender and considerate she had felt tears come to her eyes. Her love for him felt as if it were taking up all the available space inside her chest. She felt it pulling on her every breath with a bittersweet poignancy.
The door of the bedroom pushed open and Rafaele came in bearing a tray with freshly brewed coffee, fruit and croissants. 'Rise and shine,' he said with a smile. 'Breakfast is here.'
Emma dragged herself upright and blinked the sleep out of her eyes. 'What is it about morning people who think everyone should be awake and