Chapter 2: The Game Begins
1431 Words
Teri wasn’t a stranger to attention.
She wasn’t arrogant about it, but she knew when a man was interested—the way his gaze lingered, the slight tension in his stance, the barely-there smirk that said he was already imagining his next move.
And yet, this man—Raffael—was different.
Because instead of approaching her, instead of offering some smooth, predictable line, he just watched.
Not in an overeager way. Not in a nervous, boyish way.
No—he looked like he had all the time in the world.
Like he was perfectly content to let her dance around the idea of him for as long as it took.
Teri took a slow sip of her drink, letting the wine settle on her tongue as she turned back to Lena. “So, how do we feel about stealing a bottle of wine and sneaking to the top deck?”
Lena blinked. “I feel great about it, but why do you sound suspicious?”
Teri let her lips curve into a slow, smug smirk. “Because I think I’m being hunted.”
Lena’s brows shot up. “Oh, hell. Is he still watching you?”
Teri didn’t turn her head. She didn’t have to. She could feel him. The weight of his stare pressing against her skin like a lazy burn.
“Yep.”
Lena exhaled dramatically. “Girl, I would fold immediately.”
Teri grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lena gave her an exasperated look before shoving a fresh glass of wine into her hand. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t sleep with him, I will.”
Teri took a sip and shrugged. “Noted.”
They moved to the bar, slipping into the rhythm of the party. Laughter and conversation hummed around them, the yacht rocking slightly beneath their feet. Teri let herself enjoy the moment, the music, the warmth of the Italian night—until that feeling hit her again.
That slow, creeping awareness.
That certainty.
She was being watched.
She turned her head—and locked eyes with him again.
Green.
That was the first thing she noticed. His eyes, sharp and vivid, practically glowing under the yacht’s soft lights.
Then, the rest of him hit.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Jet-black hair that curled just slightly at the ends, like he hadn’t bothered to tame it. The kind of strong, chiseled features that made her forget how words worked for a second.
And he wasn’t smiling.
Just watching.
Like he was trying to figure her out.
Teri, naturally, did the only logical thing.
She smirked and turned her back on him.
Let him chase.
Lena grabbed her arm. “Um. Who was that?”
Teri took another slow sip of her drink, feeling a smug little thrill crawl down her spine. “No idea.”
Lena gaped. “You mean to tell me a man who looks like he was sculpted by the gods just undressed you with his eyes, and you’re not even curious?”
“Oh, I’m curious,” Teri admitted. “But where’s the fun in making it easy for him?”
Lena stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “I love vacation Teri.”
Teri just laughed, but inside, her pulse was still racing.
Because she knew, without a doubt—this wasn’t over.
Not even close.
————Raffael’s POV
Raf wasn’t the kind of man who pursued.
He didn’t have to.
But the woman in the black dress—the one with **teasing eyes and a sharp mouth—**she was baiting him.
And he let her.
Because he wanted to see how far she’d push.
Most women who caught his eye reacted in two ways—either they threw themselves at him, or they shrank under the weight of his presence.
Teri did neither.
She smirked. She turned her back.
She dared him.
Raf ran a finger along the rim of his glass, watching the way she laughed at something her friend said, the slight arch of her neck as she tilted her head, exposing the soft line of her throat.
Bella.
The word flickered through his mind before he could stop it.
He had work to do. This party wasn’t for pleasure.
And yet—he was still sitting here. Watching her.
Waiting.
He smirked to himself, finally pushing up from his seat.
Fine.
If she wanted a game, he’d play.
But she wouldn’t win.
Not against him.
————Teri’s POV
Teri wasn’t expecting him to approach.
She figured he’d hold out a little longer, maybe wait until she was properly restless with anticipation.
But no.
A shadow fell over her, and she knew.
She lifted her gaze—and there he was.
Up close, he was even worse for her nervous system.
Tall. Ridiculously so, like he was built to make women weak in the knees. His black button-down was undone just enough to show a hint of golden skin and muscle, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, lightly tanned, veins cutting sharp beneath the surface.
And then, of course, his eyes.
Green. Unrelenting. Amused.
He looked at her like he had her figured out already.
That was mistake number one.
Teri tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Can I help you?”
His lips curved—slow and lazy. Deeply entertained.
“You’re enjoying this,” he murmured, voice smooth, rich, accented.
She raised a brow. “Enjoying what?”
His eyes flicked to the bottle in her hand before dragging back up to meet hers.
“The chase.”
Teri took a slow sip of wine, then licked a stray drop from her lips, deliberately unbothered.
“Chase?” she mused. “I didn’t realize you were running.”
Raf’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
Teri felt the heat in that look like a slow burn along her skin.
When he finally spoke, his voice was pure, teasing sin.
“Not yet, bella.”
Oh.
Okay.
That was dangerous.
Teri hummed, pretending her pulse wasn’t doing things it absolutely shouldn’t be doing.
“Well,” she said, leaning back against the lounge, unimpressed. “If this is your way of flirting, I’d give it a solid… six out of ten.”
Raf chuckled, low and thoroughly entertained. “Six?”
“Maybe six and a half,” she conceded. “Depends on your next move.”
He studied her for a second, then smoothly reached down, plucked the bottle from her hand, and took a long, slow sip.
Teri watched the way his throat moved, the way his fingers curled around the glass, strong and sure.
Heat flickered low in her stomach.
He lowered the bottle, eyes never leaving hers.
“Better?” he asked, licking a drop of wine from his bottom lip.
Teri narrowed her eyes.
“Seven.”
Raf chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”
She grinned, taking the bottle back from him.
“You have no idea.”
They sat there for a moment, the quiet hum of the ocean filling the space between them.
Finally, he leaned back against the railing, watching her again.
“So,” he said casually. “You don’t ask for names?”
Teri smirked. “I find it’s more fun when you don’t know if you’re talking to a prince or a criminal.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
It was so brief she almost missed it.
But then his smirk returned, unreadable.
“Interesting philosophy, bella.”
She squinted at him. “Your name is definitely something dramatic, isn’t it? Like Lorenzo or Dante or—”
“Raffael.”
His name rolled off his tongue like silk.
Teri blinked. “Raffael?”
“Most people call me Raf.”
She tested it. “Raf.”
Something about saying it made heat curl behind her ribs.
It fit.
Teri swirled the bottle in her hand. “And what do you do, Raffael?”
His smile was slow. Easy.
“A little bit of everything.”
Vague. Too vague.
But she let it slide.
For now.
“Well, Raf,” she said, tipping the bottle back toward her lips, “I’ll give you an eight.”
He arched a brow. “And if I want a ten?”
Teri licked a drop of wine from her bottom lip, then leaned forward, her voice low, teasing.
“Then you’ll have to earn it.”
His green eyes flashed.
And just like that—the game was on.
- Writer
