If they passed footmen and courtiers and ladies, she noticed them not at all. She only had eyes for Rafael, glancing constantly at his classically chiseled face and needing, perhaps, just a little reassurance that the wonderful, wicked thing he had done to her was no cause for belated regret.He walked her to her apartment and kissed her goodnight in the little sitting room packed with flowers. Their perfumes intoxicated her like the bottle of wine they had finished.“I don’t like saying goodbye,” she murmured, a bit tipsy and loath to release her arms from around his neck.“Would you like me to stay with you tonight?” he whispered, running his hands up her sides in sweet coaxing.A shiver of temptation ran through her. Pulling back, she looked up at him with a smile. “You’d better not.”He gave her a charming little sulk. “But I want to.”“Don’t pout, dearest. You’ll see me tomorrow,” she said teasingly, reaching up to cup his clean-shaved cheek.“It’s already tomorrow.
