Broken Together by K. S. Ruff

want to offer me a bye?” I rolled my eyes. Snatching my jeans and sweater
off the floor, I turned toward the door. “I’m going to the bakery to get
another bica .”
    “The
hell you are.” Barreling into me, he swept me off my feet and threw me onto the
bed. His eyes flared when he climbed on top of me. He opened the front clasp on
my bra before pinning my wrists against the bed. “Challenge accepted.”
    *
* * * *
    My
fingers raked through the curls in my hair while I pondered the closet. Rafael
wore black, white, and gray. His color preferences had bled into the wardrobe
he selected for me. Black cocktail dresses, black pants, black jeans… black
heels, shoes, and boots… black, white, and gray sweaters and shirts. There were
only two exceptions, a long-sleeved cocktail dress and a pair of heels, both in
lipstick red.
    I
dropped my towel and pulled the red cocktail dress over my head. The dress had
a wide scoop neck that pushed the sleeves just below the shoulder, so a bra
wasn’t possible unless Rafael thought to buy a strapless one. Between the formfitting
cut and the high quality fabric, I figured no one would be the wiser. “Naughty
and convenient,” I whispered.
    “Did
you say something?” Rafael called.
    I
stepped out of the closet. “I can’t believe restaurants in Portugal don’t open
until eight o’clock.”
    His
jaw dropped. “That dress...”
    I
kissed him on the cheek. “Yes. Thank you.”
    “Eva,”
he growled.
    “What?”
My shoulders tensed.
    He
tore his eyes from the dress. “I asked Eva, Benjamim’s wife, to pick out some
clothes for you. Benjamim pulled some money from my account so she could shop
for us. I left detailed instructions about the clothes.”
    A
smile tugged at my lips. “Let me guess. Your list didn’t include a bright red
dress.”
    “No,
but I really like this dress.” His hands slid over my hips, abdomen, and
breasts. “You’re not wearing a bra.” He backed me toward the bed.
    “Later,”
I laughed. “I’m starving.”
    “We’re
not lingering in Bairro Alto when dinner’s over. We’re coming straight home.” He
stalked down the hallway, across the dining room, and into the foyer.
    I
trailed behind him while admiring the sassy red heels. Eva was on the fast
track to becoming my new best friend. “When do I get to meet Benjamim and Eva?”
    He
helped me into a black trench coat before tugging a black leather jacket over
his shoulders. “We’re eating dinner at Benjamim and Eva’s house tomorrow
night.” He grabbed his keys from the counter and ushered me out the door.
    Our
fingers twined. “Tell me about them.”
    With
a soft “ding,” the elevator doors slid open. Rafael pressed the button for the
garage. “They’re good friends. Benjamim’s an attorney and an accountant. He
manages some of my finances and my property in Lisbon.”
    “Is
this the Senhor Brantuas that Matias was referring to? The friend who manages
your apartment so he can drive around in the Porsche?”
    His
hand slid to the small of my back. “Yes. Benjamim and I go way back. We’ve
known each other since high school.” The elevator doors slid open. Rafael strode
toward the car.
     I
brushed a quick kiss against his cheek before sinking into the passenger seat. “And
Eva?”
    He
folded himself into the driver’s seat, backed out of the parking space, and
eased toward the entrance to the garage. “Eva’s from Madrid. They met when
Benjamim was still in law school. They married within weeks of meeting one
another. She moved to Lisbon, and they’ve been together ever since.” He waited
for a handful of cars to pass, then tore out of the garage. He stopped abruptly
at a light before turning onto the Avenida da Liberdade .
    I
gripped the sides of my seat as he picked up speed. The Porsche moved with unfathomable
precision while Rafael dodged pedestrians and darted in and out of traffic at
warp speed. He didn’t slow until we crested a small hill.
    Rafael
turned