She pulled her hand away abruptly, rolling to her feet. “Then hurry.”

Levering himself off the couch, he ignored the sharp pain in his leg and kicked off his shoes. Grabbing his cane, he followed her to the bed, grateful for once that the studio apartment was so small. He was shrugging out of his shirt when he froze once again.

She’d pulled her sweater over her head, leaving her in her jeans and bra. It wasn’t a lacy bra. It was practical. Functional. But the plain cotton cupped her breasts like a dream and he held out his hand when she went to pull down the straps.

“Let me,” he said, amazed that his voice didn’t shake.

Obediently, her hands lowered to her sides, and she waited, her eyes expectant.

No fear, he thought, relieved. Just anticipation. Which was exactly as it was supposed to be.

Rafe rounded the bed, shuddering when he touched her. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, proud of the shiver that pebbled her soft skin. “You’re beautiful. Tell me that you know that.”

She tilted her head against his and he could feel her swallow. “You’re biased, I think.”

He straightened to meet her eyes. “You’ll say it eventually. I’ll make you believe it.” He slid his arms around her back, unhooking her bra with only a little difficulty.

She chuckled. “Can I say that I’m glad you’re not so good at that?”

He kissed her smiling mouth. “My reputation as a player was a sham. Kept my mother and sisters from trying to set me up with all those women who weren’t you.”

He stepped back, taking her bra with him. Then taking a breath as he drank in the sight of her. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s been sixteen hours.”

“Too long.” He tossed the bra and made quick work of her slacks, leaving her in a pair of equally practical panties and a pair of socks. Winding one hand in her hair, he tilted her face up for a kiss, pressing her backward until her legs hit the bed. She fell to her back, bouncing slightly before propping herself on her forearms.

“You too. I want to see you.”

The husky demand sent a new shudder through his body. He shoved his slacks and briefs down in a jingle of coins and keys, suddenly done with the dance. He yanked off his socks, then yanked off hers.

“Lie back,” he ordered, waiting until she’d complied before reaching for the waistband of her panties. And . . . something changed. She bit her lip and looked a little scared. You promised you’d stop.

You promised. So he would. He closed his eyes, releasing his hold on her underwear. “It’s all right, Mercy. We’ll stop.”

“I’m not changing my mind,” she blurted out.

“All right.” Drawing a breath, he sat on the bed, his hip to hers, bending his knee so that he could see her face. “Then what is it?”