It stung, and yet Rafe probably deserved the slap. He wouldn't deny the cruelty of his barb, yet he had to do something to stop Emma's sensual seduction. The betrayal was still too raw. He could understand how it happened. Knew she felt remorse. Yet, he couldn't quite forgive. Not just yet. Maybe not ever.
He moved away from her, placing distance between them.
"Would it help if I said you're a better kisser, and that, when you touch me, it's as if the whole world stops moving?"
Actually, it did help his wounded male pride, but he didn't let that show. He raised his wrist to his lips. "Annabelle. Can you read me?"
No reply. Not even a distant hum of static. A shove of his finger in his ear showed his earpiece gone. He pulled back his sleeve and cursed as he saw the red line of a fading scar on his forearm. "Fucker took my communicator."