Touch of Heaven by Maureen Smith Page A

imitation of what he wanted to do to her with no barriers separating their bodies.Raina moaned, eagerly matching his rhythm. He reached between their bodies and cupped her mound, imagining the glorious heat and wetness that lay just beyond his touch. Raina shivered hard. And then suddenly she stiffened. Her nails bit into his back and she arched in his arms, her head falling back as she let out a hoarse, startled cry. Warrick held her trembling body, reveling in the force of her release even as moments later his own body bucked violently, shocking him, tearing a raw expletive from his throat.
    They clutched each other tightly for several moments, their foreheads resting against each other’s, their chests heaving as they struggled for breath.
    At length Warrick lifted his head and gazed down at Raina. Her face was flushed, her hair was disheveled and her dark eyes were wide with stunned disbelief.
    â€œI—I can’t believe we just did that,” she whispered.
    â€œNeither can I,” Warrick admitted huskily.
    They stared at each other.
    A moment later they heard Randall’s voice, talking on his cell phone as he approached the garage.
    With a panicked expression, Raina scrambled off the hood of the Thunderbird, batting aside Warrick’s hand as he tried to help her down. She smoothed down her hair and tugged her tank top back into place.
    â€œRaina—”
    â€œI have to go,” she said breathlessly, stepping around the broken glass on the floor as she hurried away from him.
    On her way out of the garage she nearly collided with Randall. He smiled at her as he ended his call and tucked his phone into the back pocket of his blue coveralls.
    â€œLeaving so soon, baby girl?”
    Raina nodded, mustering a wobbly smile. “I don’t want to be late for dinner with my sister. We get together every Tuesday, and she’s a stickler for punctuality.”
    Randall chuckled. “I understand. Well, at least let Warrick walk you to your car.”
    â€œNo!” When Randall arched a brow at her, she said less vehemently, “I mean, that’s all right. I—I can see myself out.” She leaned on tiptoe, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for letting mesee your prize on wheels. She’s every bit as special as you said she was.”
    Across the room, Warrick smiled at the irony of her words.
    Without sparing him a backward glance, Raina beat a hasty retreat.
    Randall stared after her for a moment, then turned to look questioningly at his nephew. “What in God’s name did you do to that young lady?”
    â€œNot half as much as I wanted to,” Warrick muttered under his breath, low enough not to be overheard.
    Still eyeing him suspiciously, Randall started across the garage. As he neared Warrick, his brows furrowed when he noticed the broken glass on the floor. “What the hell happened in here?”
    â€œAn accident. I need a shower,” Warrick announced abruptly, brushing past his frowning uncle.
    â€œWhat about this mess on the floor?”
    â€œI’ll clean it up when I get back.”
    Right after I clean up the mess in my damned pants.

Chapter 7
    W hen Raina was sixteen years old, she had her first dream about Warrick, a sensual, fog-drenched dream that had left her with a guilty smile on her face when she’d awakened. Of all the steamy dreams that had followed over the years—and there had been plenty—none could have prepared her for the powerfully erotic interlude she had just experienced with Warrick.
    As she sped away from his uncle’s house like a thief fleeing a crime scene, her heart hammering against her ribs and her head spinning wildly, she felt torn between exhilaration and horror. She couldn’t believe what had just happened, though the sweet, pulsing ache between her legs told her the encounter with Warrick had been all too real. After a lifetime of prayer and supplication, Raina had