Page 54 of Raphael

Aurora: *Where are you?*

Willow: *Why is that freaking scary dude from New Orleans stalking me?*

Aurora: *Who? Alexei? He’s with me.*

Willow: *His scary-ass brother.*

Aurora: *Sasha?*

Willow: *I didn’t ask him his name. He’s lurking, scaring my dates away.*

Aurora: *Sailor, where are you?*

Willow: *Answer, woman. All your and Gabriel’s clothes are gone. I’m freaking out.*

Aurora: *Sailor, I’m going to send Alexei after you if you don’t answer.*

Good God. Anyone but that scary man. I didn’t like to judge people by their appearances but Jesus Christ, he was fucking scary. I still struggled thinking of him and Aurora together. They were the polar opposites.

I checked the time of the last message. Something told me that if I hid in fucking Siberia, that man would find me. Aurora’s message was stamped an hour ago, so I quickly typed up my answer.*I’m good. Both Gabriel and I are safe. I’ll be in touch. Don’t worry.*

Afterwards, I took a quick shower and got dressed, but before heading downstairs, I checked on my son. He was twisted on the bed, his foot hanging off the bed again, right off the pillow and his covers half off the bed. My lips curved into a smile seeing him so sound asleep, his mouth slightly parted. At least yesterday’s events left him unscathed.

It was quiet as I made my way through the house, most of the household still sleeping. When we landed yesterday, I saw guards roaming around the house and the island. Raphael mentioned yesterday that he had guards and household staff staying on the island, but he never mentioned how many people actually lived here. Though from my observation, he had a small military operation going on here.

The rising sun cast shadows across the hallway. The home was magnificent. It was luxurious but also welcoming. Unlike my parents’ home. I learned early on not to touch anything in our home. I accidentally broke my father’s ashtray once. He hit me so hard I flew across his study, the back of my head banging the wall. Anya came to my rescue that day, as she did so many other times. She told him she broke it. He knew full well that I did. After all, he saw me do it.

But he grinned, that awful evil grin, and then he sent her to her room. That night, Anya forbade me from coming to her room.

Shaking my head and the past along with it, I turned the corner and found myself in a huge kitchen. The stove and the oven were already going, the scent of fresh bread making my mouth water. I approached the stove and lifted the lid, finding something resembling chicken. At least I thought it looked like chicken, although it seemed odd to be cooking chicken in the morning.

Putting the lid back on, I peeked into the oven. It looked like bread but it smelled sweet, almost like melted chocolate.

“It's a chocolate con pan.” Raphael’s deep voice came from behind me, and I shivered from the sound filling the silent kitchen.

I slowly straightened to my full height and turned around to meet his gaze. Raphael in jeans and a t-shirt was a sight to behold. My heart raced a mile a minute and my breathing shallowed as his gaze fell down my body.

Something about the way he watched me lit a match and caused sparks through my bloodstream that threatened to turn into full blown fireworks.

I stood there in a pair of white shorts and a blue crew neck top, barefoot against the cool tile while my skin buzzed with warmth. Black ink covered his arms, smooth tanned muscle giving me glimpses that had my imagination running a mile a minute. I wondered how much of his tanned body was actually covered in ink. The curious part of me wanted to examine every inch of him.

Warmth rushed to the pit of my stomach and spread through me like fire.

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to say something?”

I blinked at his tone.

“Is this how you treat all your guests?” I retorted back, my voice breathless.

He gave his head a shake, letting out a small breath of amusement. “Only the ones that can’t say good morning.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. It wasn’t my fault his body was so gorgeous it rendered me speechless.

“Good morning,” I grumbled. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

Sidestepping me, he turned off the oven, grabbed a mitten and pulled out a pan full of delicious smelling bread.