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She gave him a sidelong glance. "The operative word is pretend. How am I going to explain you living with me if we don't pretend there's at least something happening between us?"
"Have you taken up with other men other than your husband?"
Simone's eyelids fluttered wildly. It was a question her cousin and sister had asked on occasion, and the answer was always the same. No.
"What do you mean by 'taken up with'?"
"Date."
She thought about a man who bowled with her that she'd recently gone out with. She probably would've consented to see him again if he hadn't talked incessantly about his ex-wife. "I've dated, but the dates never progressed to a man living with me."
"What about men sleeping with you?"
A shock swept through Simone with the power of a sirocco, her retort wedging in her throat. Who the hell did he think he was to ask her something that personal? "That's none of your business." she said, her voice lowering as she struggled to contain her quick temper.
Rafe flashed a devastatingly sexy smile. "The fact that you won't answer the question says you're celibate."
A soft gasp escaped her parted lips. "Whether I'm celibate or not is none of your damn business."
"Oh, but it is, Simone," he said softly. "If you're sleeping with someone, then you'd better tell him that there will be no knocking boots until after I'm gone."
"Oh, now I'm not permitted to date?"
"You can date."
Her smile was dazzling. "Why, thank you."
Rafe sobered quickly. "The only person you'll be dating is me. If you want a pretend boyfriend, then you have one. Let's practice to see if we can get it right."
He dropped her hand and looped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Lowering his head, he fastened his mouth to her parted lips, breathing in her breath and deepening the kiss. Rafe hadn't consciously thought of kissing Simone, but he found her sultry mouth was like the open blooms of flowers beckoning insects to taste the sweet nectar within.
Simone tried pushing Rafe away, but she was no match for his superior strength. The shock of his mouth on hers melted away, replaced by a warming that started at her toes and eddied slowly up her legs. Her thighs warmed and the hidden place at the apex throbbed with long-forgotten sensations that threatened to make her faint. Thankfully it ended as quickly as it'd begun.
With wide eyes, she stared at the sardonic grin on his face. He knew! He knew his kiss had affected her more than she wanted it to when his gaze moved down to her heaving chest. She was struggling vainly not to succumb to the delicious sensations coursing throughout her body.
"How did I do?" he asked, winking at her.
"Okay."
Rafe's dark eyebrows lifted slightly. "Just okay? Perhaps I need more practice." He reached for her again, but she stepped nimbly away from him.
"Don't you dare touch me," she said between clenched teeth.
"Are you all right, Simone?"
She whirled around at the sound of a familiar voice. It belonged to one of the police officers in her bowling league. "I'm okay, Mark."
His bright red eyebrows met in a frown, as clear blue eyes shifted between her and Rafe, who'd switched the bowling bag from his left hand to his right. "Are you sure?"
She nodded. "Very sure." The last thing she wanted was for bullets to start flying if the two lawmen drew down on each other. Moving closer to Rafe, she went on tiptoe and brushed a light kiss over his firm mouth. "We were just having a lover's spat."
Mark nodded. "If that's the case, then I'll see you inside."
Waiting until the other man walked away, Simone rounded on Rafe. "What the hell are you trying to do? Get yourself shot?"
"Do you really think he would've drawn a gun on me without identifying himself as a police officer? No, Simone," he said, answering his own question. "By that time, I would've told him the same. Despite what you might think, there is police protocol. Let's go," he continued. "I don't want to make you late for your game."
Simone shot him an angry glare as she waited for him to open the door. Rafe was several steps behind her when she made her way past an area where bowlers were exchanging their street shoes for bowling shoes.
"This place is really nice," Rafe drawled behind her.
"It is," she concurred.
It was nice, but the one her father and uncle planned to put up in Mount Vernon would surpass this one in square footage and other amenities. She spied Tessa and Micah as they sat together at the far end of the building. Simone knew she had to get her sister alone to tell her why she'd come with a strange man in tow.
She placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Let me talk to my sister alone before I make the introductions."
"Okay. I'll be over there." He pointed to a corner where bowlers had left their bags.
Smiling, Simone approached her sister. Tessa's fiancé, Micah Sanborn, stood up and kissed her cheek. "Hey, Simone. How's it going?"
She returned the kiss, smiling at the tall, dark, handsome and incredibly masculine Kings County assistant district attorney whom she'd come to regard as her brother. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a navy-and-white-striped rugby shirt.
"It's all good," she lied smoothly. "How's your family?"
"They're well, thank you. By the way, my folks wanted me to ask you if you're available Sunday to come for a cookout. Faith and Ethan have already committed."
Tessa Whitfield stood up and hugged her sister. Two years younger than Simone, she was taller and darker in coloring and the modified flyway Afro hairstyle she'd worn for years was replaced with a short chic cut that flattered her soft, delicate features. Light caught the sparkle of blue-white prisms in the magnificent cushion-cut center diamond on her left hand.
"Please say you're coming, Simone. Micah and I are spending the night at his parents' house after we leave Faith and Ethan. You can come with us, and that way you won't have to drive back to White Plains just to turn around and come back to Jersey the next day."
Simone met Micah's intense dark gaze, and knew he was waiting for her answer. She gave him a warm smile. "Excuse me, Micah, but I need to tell Tessa something before I commit."
Tessa gave her a perplexed look. "What's the matter?"
"Come with me," she said cryptically. Taking Tessa by the hand, she pulled her away from the people who'd begun crowding into the neighboring lanes. In another fifteen minutes, balls would be hurtled with astonishing speed, drowning out conversations.
Rafe took a step when he saw Simone with a woman who looked enough like her to be her sister, but settled back against the wall when he realized they weren't moving out of his line of vision.
He watched Tessa Whitfield's expression change as Simone whispered close to her ear. After a full minute, both women turned and stared at him. He acknowledged Tessa with a barely perceptible nod before she threw her arms around Simone's neck. He mentally concluded that Simone and Tessa must have incredibly attractive parents to have produced not one, but two beautiful daughters. Straightening to his full height he was ready when Simone led Tessa over to him.
She extended her hand. "Hello, Rafe. I'm Tessa Whitfield, your girlfriend's sister. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Rafe shook her hand. "The pleasure is mine, Tessa." He noticed their voices were similar, but Simone claimed a slightly lower register.
"Come, Rafe. I'd like you to meet my fiancé before we start bowling."
He wasn't certain what Simone had told her sister, but if she was going to pass him off as her boyfriend then he would willingly play out the charade until the game ended. What he didn't want to think about was kissing her again. He knew Simone hadn't been expecting the kiss, but once his mouth touched hers he hadn't wanted to stop.
Rafe's gaze swept over Micah Sanborn. He was tall, slender, with close-cropped dark hair sprinkled with flecks of gray. Although he wasn't in uniform there was something about the way he carried himself that silently blared Cop! Once a cop, always a cop. He wondered if it would be same with him when he retired.
Tessa looped her arm through Micah's. "I'd like you to meet Simone's boyfriend, Raphael Madison. Rafe, my fiancé, Micah Sanborn."
Smiling, Micah gave him a firm handshake. "Nice meeting you, Rafe. Is it Rafe or Raphael?"
"Rafe will do."
Micah's dark, penetrating eyes took in everything about Raphael Madison in one sweeping glance. "Are you on the job?"
Rafe knew he was asking if he was a cop. "How did you know?"
"After putting in twenty years on the force, I can spot one fifty feet away."
"What are you doing now?" Rafe asked, not admitting or denying he was in law enforcement.
"I'm a Kings County ADA."
"I'd like to talk—"
"Yo, Sandy, you guys are short one man tonight," called out Justin Jamison, a short, but solidly built man with a shaved head. "Harris had a collar, so he's stuck at the station with paperwork."
Micah stared at Rafe. "Do you bowl?"
"Not in a while."
"Do you mind filling in tonight?" Micah asked
Rafe preferred bowling to standing around looking and acting like a bodyguard. "I wouldn't mind at all." Placing a hand on Simone's shoulder as she sat changing her shoes, he leaned over her. "I'll be back."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to be your bowling partner tonight."
She wrinkled her nose. "If you spoil our winning streak I'm going to hurt you, Rafe Madison." Not only was her team undefeated, but she and Micah had earned highest league scores among the men and women.
"Whatcha gonna do to me, baby?" he whispered.
"You don't want to know." She gave him a sassy grin when he winked at her.
Knowing no one was going to harm Simone with dozens of police officers around her, Rafe went to select a pair of shoes and a ball. It was apparent she'd adjusted to her present situation because she was smiling more than scowling, joking rather than protesting. He'd enjoyed cooking with her, even if he'd done most of it.
Simone was on her feet, her gaze fixed intently on Rafe. Whenever it was his turn to bowl, those in nearby lanes stopped whatever they were doing to watch him. She wasn't certain whether it was technique or luck, but the results were awesome. He'd just bowled his seventh consecutive strike.
"I'm impressed," she said, complimenting him when he sat down. "And I'll have you know that I'm not very easily impressed."
A dazzling smile deepened the lines around his eyes. "Neither am I."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've impressed me, too."
Simone gave him a skeptical look. "I'm not the one on track to bowl a perfect game."
"Have you ever bowled a three hundred?"
Shaking her head, Simone watched Tessa's follow-through. She'd knocked down her spare. "I've come close. What about you?"
Rafe lifted a broad shoulder. "I've done it once or twice."
NYPD Sergeant Justin Jamison took a long swallow from a bottle of beer, narrowing his gaze at Rafe. "Look, Sandy, you know the rules. No ringers."
Simone popped up like a jack-in-the-box. "Who are you calling a ringer, Justin?"
He'd asked her out once, and she'd accepted. Although divorced, he couldn't stop talking about his ex-wife. And what Justin refused to understand when he called to ask Simone out again was why she'd turned him down. It was apparent he was unable to accept rejection because after that he'd suddenly turned on her as if she were a bitter enemy.
The homicide detective glared at her. "I wasn't talking to you, Curly Sue."
Rafe rose slowly to his feet and took Simone's arm. Even though he didn't need Simone to defend him he wasn't going to stand by and let the obviously inebriated man get in her face.
"Look, man, you need to watch your mouth," he threatened softly.
Micah shot the man a warning look. "And I think you should lay off the beer." A female vice detective forcibly pried the beer bottle from Justin's hand.
The others on Jamison's team groaned in unison while rolling their eyes at him. "What the hell are you looking at?" he asked his teammates.
The vice detective rubbed Jamison's shaved head, then kissed it. "They're spanking us, Sarge, so suck it up."
"Let go of my arm, Rafe," Simone whispered angrily when he steered her a short distance away.
"Only if you promise me you won't go after someone who's had a little too much to drink."
"But he accused us of cheating."
"It's okay."
"But it's not okay, Rafe."
He angled his head and glared her. "Let it go, Simone."
"I—"
"Enough, Simone." His warning was spoken softly. "If I haul you out of here now, then your team is going to have to forfeit the game. Remember, the ringer is only filling in for tonight."
The fact that Rafe referred to himself as a ringer made her pause. "You're not a professional bowler, are you?"
"No, I'm not. Please, let's finish this game so we can go home."
"I need to tell you something."
