A Shocking Proposal In Sicily (HQR Presents)

by Rachael Thomas

  She smiled brightly, trying not to read anything into his words. ‘That is, of course, an added advantage.’

  ‘Sì, cara mia, an added advantage, although this evening we need to portray romance and attraction. The desire can be saved for when we are alone, no?’ He paused, looking down at her left hand, at the ring she’d chosen this afternoon. A small delicate stone she’d fallen in love with, but now that ring felt heavy. Like a lead weight dragging her down to the seabed as he continued to speak. ‘Romance is something Franco and Francesca really believe in.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’ she asked tentatively. ‘That the powerful businessman you are might believe in love?’

  ‘On the contrary. Franco and Francesca believe we are in love, thanks to the press coverage of our whirlwind romance. It is something I wish them to continue believing.’

  Kaliana’s heart constricted, any faint hope that she might find a happy ever after with Rafe instantly slashed away. This man didn’t want love. Didn’t believe in it. For whatever reason, he had barricaded his heart away. It was all about his family wealth. His business. At least she was marrying to make the lives of her people better and not for her own personal gain.

  ‘But you don’t believe in love?’ She knew he didn’t. Knew the losses life had dealt him made that belief impossible, but for her own sanity she needed to hear him say it.

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘But you have loved once, Rafe?’ As always, she couldn’t help but probe deeper, needing to know more about this man. He’d already hinted at having lost his love and now she was unable to keep her curiosity under control.

  ‘Once.’ The answer was firm. It didn’t invite further conversation, but she wasn’t going to let this moment pass—a chance to find out more about him.

  ‘Was it very long ago?’

  ‘Almost ten years.’ Rafe’s expression changed, as if he was examining the past again. Guilt that she’d jolted obviously painful memories rushed through her. He looked at her. ‘You know what it is like when you think you have found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You know how it hurts when that doesn’t happen.’

  She gasped, pressing her fingers to her lips. He’d lost his love to tragedy too?

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She walked to the large windows which gave an unrivalled view of the Trevi Fountain bathed in glorious sunshine and crowded by tourists all waiting to throw in a coin and make a wish.

  ‘There is no need for sympathy. She simply decided her future wasn’t with me.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter how you lose your first love; it still hurts,’ she said softly, wanting to offer him some comfort but sensing that even a sympathetic tone would be unwelcome right now. He still loved her—his first love.

  ‘We have both been burned by love.’ The admission lanced through the atmosphere in the room, robbing her of the ability to think. She couldn’t even turn to face him.

  ‘So it would seem,’ she said softly, thinking of Alif, realising she had given little thought to him or their love affair since spending time with Rafe. Not that she’d allow Rafe to know that, when the relationship between them was based purely on lust.

  She turned to face him, wanting to end this conversation. It was too intimate. Made her question too many things, not least how she felt about Rafe. She shouldn’t have pushed him to reveal his hidden emotions, not when she was in danger of wanting to be part of them too.

  Her fleeting and fanciful dreams of Rafe being the man she could discover love with were getting to her. All she’d ever wanted was love and happiness—the same kind her parents had once shared. Could a man as closed-off as Rafe, so obviously damaged by past emotions, ever love?

  No. She had to remember that. Guard her stirring heart. And, more importantly, she would harden her heart. Lock it away. Freeze it. Anything to stop it from falling for this man.

  She would be strong. As impenetrable as Rafe. Showcase her acting ability to the full tonight. Because, with a clarity she’d only felt once before—that first night in London—she knew she was in grave danger of losing everything to this man. In danger of loving him.

  * * *

  The evening had been a great success. Kaliana had played her part well over their evening meal, talking weddings and romance with Franco and Francesca. She’d been so convincing, Rafe himself had almost believed it. Almost believed she wanted to marry him for no other reason than she loved him.

  She’d looked so beautiful, shining vibrantly as they’d chatted with the other couple over dinner. He had hardly been able to keep his eyes from her all night. The softness of her skin had tempted him as she’d sat watching the opera performance, totally caught up in the magic of the moment. She’d been so enraptured by it all, by the emotion of the story being told, he wondered if she really was as cold and emotionless as he was. As she’d claimed.

  Right now, he wasn’t sure if he was that devoid of emotion. He was all over the place. Kaliana was making him feel things he didn’t want to. Things that brought back memories of the past, of a time when he’d been happy. All this was swirling through his mind as he guided Kaliana, with his hand gently in the small of her back, from the Teatro Valle to his waiting car.

  As they left the building the night sky around them lit up with flashes. Kaliana moved closer to him. Instantly he turned protector, wrapping his arm around her, drawing her closer still. His body reacted to the contact and instantly he realised his mistake.

  Kaliana tensed against him, but the Princess she was took over. She smiled for the cameras, flirted with them, and with him. Posing for the photographs he knew would make headlines in tomorrow’s papers.

  ‘Now there will be no peace from them. Soon everyone will want to know about the desert Princess you are marrying.’ The heated remark pierced through the cool interior of the chauffeur-driven car as they left the pack of photographers behind and headed back to his apartment. She blamed him for the press interest. Anger glittered in her eyes, making them spark with gold, but he couldn’t be swayed by it. Couldn’t allow it to affect him. Allow her to affect him.

  ‘But nobody will be in any doubt our engagement is real.’ He tried to control the rollercoaster of emotions he was suddenly on. A rollercoaster that was beginning to reveal the things he’d long since locked away. ‘Or that we are in love.’

  ‘You could have warned me,’ she snapped and looked out of the window as the city’s streets passed by.

  He shrugged when she looked back at him. ‘Why? You handled it like a pro. It’s part of our deal, is it not? And, more than anyone else, I want my brother, Enzo, to believe our marriage is real.’

  ‘Well, he won’t miss that when it hits the headlines tomorrow.’ She frowned at him. ‘Why is it so important he knows?’

  He didn’t want to tell her, but something inside him snapped. The barrier of resistance broke and the pain of losing his twin, slowly but surely, since his mother’s death, flowed freely. Along with the need to talk about him. To confide in Kaliana.

  ‘I haven’t spoken to my brother for several years. At least not properly. Not as a brother.’

  He could see again his brother’s angry face as they’d stood beneath the shade of a line of tall slender cypress trees at Villa Casella. He’d accused Rafe of gloating over his possible marriage break-up, of wishing it would happen. They had slipped so far apart. Torn by their love for the same woman. But now Rafe didn’t want that bad feeling to continue, didn’t want to force guilt on his brother. He wanted Enzo to believe he was happy, especially with their father so ill.

  His father’s diagnosis had made him want to reach out to his twin, to mend the bridge which was in complete danger of collapse. Emma would want that too and he wanted to make Emma happy.

  ‘What was the argument between you about?’ The sharpness in Kaliana’s voice had lessened, luring him into opening up—just a little.


  It was as if Enzo was standing there with him right now. The words he’d said that day, the day his world had fallen apart, had been so cold. He could still hear them.

  ‘Emma loves me, Rafe. And I love her. We are getting married.’

  Rafe had retaliated and the argument which had followed had been loud and heated. Since then they had avoided one another, which meant Rafe hadn’t had to see Emma with Enzo, but if she was happy then he was too. And Enzo and Emma had been happy—until the devastating news that Enzo couldn’t father children. Children Emma had wanted. Children the Casella family had needed.

  It had also put the spotlight on Rafe. The spare heir. Losing Emma had nearly killed him, and he certainly didn’t want the dubious honour of producing the next Casella generation. Another reason why Enzo probably hated him even more.

  Rafe looked at Kaliana. She was an only child. Would she understand sibling rivalry? Understand what being a twin meant? ‘We compete for everything. Always have done and Emma was no exception.’

  ‘Everything?’ she asked quietly, unlocking more memories. Moments from his and Enzo’s past that had become the foundation for the cold indifference between them when they were apart and the heated exchanges whenever they came together.

  The car hummed along the streets of Rome, the evening lights dancing around the interior. Being in the sanctuary of the car, surrounded by Kaliana’s concern and interest, pushed Rafe further away from his defensive wall. Taking her with him. Allowing her in.

  The danger of allowing Kaliana in outweighed the pain of those memories. The realisation that it shouldn’t have been like that. He and Enzo were twins, but that had never meant anything to Enzo. ‘At school it was grades. At home it was the attention or approval of our parents.’ The echo of that constant need to please his father, to gain his respect, lingered painfully. Respect that Enzo had received so easily. Maybe that was why their mother had favoured Rafe. Or at least that was what Enzo had always claimed, always jealously taunted him with.

  Rafe continued, lost in the past, ‘Then as we grew older it was women, business deals.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be that way, Rafe. You should send him an invitation to the engagement party—and the wedding.’ He could see Kaliana’s mind working. Could see the rush of questions going through her mind. If only she knew the truth. ‘You could mend it. Get your brother back. Your twin.’

  As they exited the car, Rafe inwardly flinched. Kaliana had hit the target. He did want his brother back. The brother who’d played as a young boy at Pietra Bianca with him. The brother who’d had his back when they started school. But not the brother who’d turned against him, taking from him the woman he’d loved.

  * * *

  ‘I really think you should.’ Kaliana pushed home her point, seeing the uncertainty in his expression as they entered the apartment. ‘Our marriage is about securing our families and surely your brother won’t want the Casella wealth to pass to a more distant relation. One who doesn’t bear the Casella name.’

  Target achieved. She felt the dart of her words strike its centre.

  Rafe looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Or at least seeing her as an ally in the path they had both chosen together.

  He moved closer to her. She held her breath as he stood looking down at her, so close now she only had to move forwards a little to step into his arms. To reach up and kiss him.

  Gently, he brushed her hair back, using that sexy smile he must know she couldn’t help but react to. ‘You are right.’

  ‘I know I am.’ She smiled, flicking her brows up in the way she had the first time they’d met. The bold woman she’d been that evening, the woman he’d made her, had pushed back all pretence of being a princess making a marriage of convenience. She was now a woman who knew what she wanted—Rafe.

  He laughed, that soft sexy sound which melted her core, shattered her defensive barrier, allowing him in. Allowing him emotionally close. ‘You are also quite the seductress.’

  ‘But that’s what you like about me, isn’t it, Rafe?’ she teased him, leaning closer, pressing her lips together, inviting his kiss. Challenging him to refuse.

  She couldn’t help herself. He did something to her. Changed her with just a smile. All she wanted now was a repeat of the last time they had been alone. The difference this time was that Rafe was the one trying to shut himself away, be someone he wasn’t.

  ‘Rafe?’ she questioned gently, knowing what would happen when he kissed her. Knowing the explosive chemistry between them would be too much to ignore. Knowing the desire which hummed through the very essence of her body was sparking between them. Knowing once she kissed him back, allowed the desire to take over, she would be lost. She was mad. Insane. But she wanted that madness. It made her feel alive. Real.

  She wanted them both to feel the desire, to forget everything, lose themselves in the passion.

  Rafe wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, the evidence of just how much he wanted her unmistakable. His dark eyes bored into hers and her heart pounded, echoing the beat of desire deep within her.

  She brushed her lips over his then stepped back from him. Testing him. Teasing him. Slowly she reached out, taking his hand, gently pulling him away from the window. She didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t want to break the spell.

  ‘Don’t do this, Kaliana,’ he said, his voice rough and deep. Wild and feral. ‘Not unless you want a repeat of London.’

  ‘I want that, Rafe. Tonight, I want that.’

  His kiss, hard and demanding, told her all she needed to know. He wanted it too. He wanted her. Right now, it didn’t matter what outside influences had brought them together; all that mattered was this passion. This desire. This need for one another.

  She kissed him back, allowing the passion she’d held back to flow freely. With a feral growl full of hungry desire, he swept her from her feet, carrying her to the bed. He laid her on it, standing over her as he pulled his bow tie undone, his eyes never leaving hers.

  ‘Dio mio, I can’t help myself.’ He tossed the tie aside, hastily opening his shirt buttons.

  She smiled up at him, loving the power of this moment. The power she had over him. She sat up, grabbed at his open shirt, pulling him closer, forcing his body onto her as she lay back on the bed. She was going to take this moment, this night, and lose herself in it. Lose herself in the lovers’ game. ‘Then don’t.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE EARLY SEPTEMBER heat in Sicily did little to calm the scorching memories of the week Kaliana had just spent with Rafe in Rome. For one whole week they’d spent every night together and, much as she’d tried not to, Kaliana knew that each time they’d made love she’d become a little closer to Rafe. By day they had held hands as they’d explored the city and it had felt so much more than just an act. At night the explosive passion had backed that up and Kaliana had begun to open her heart to him.

  She looked at Rafe as he joined her in the large open-plan living room of Villa Casella after having talked with his father. He took her breath away. His tall, athletic body she knew so well, dressed in a dark suit which emphasised his masculinity to perfection. His sex appeal. As he crossed the room and poured them both a glass of red wine, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was falling harder for him every day.

  How had she let that happen? How had he slipped beneath the barriers she’d erected around her heart to keep Alif in and other men out? She hadn’t wanted to feel anything for another man, believing it would be almost as bad as adultery. Why wasn’t she doing anything to stop herself falling in love with Rafe?

  Her love for Alif was dimming, and it felt both liberating and sad.

  Would Alif really have denied her love and happiness? He’d been such a kind and caring man. So eager to please her that he’d agreed to not having sex until they were married. She’d saved herself for Alif, but f
ate had changed that. Changed her.

  Rafe handed her the glass of wine, drawing her from her melancholy thoughts, a sexy smile on his lips, that desire-laden darkness in his eyes. She knew that Alif would never have begrudged her happiness. Even if that meant loving another man. He would have been the first person to tell her to go out there and live her life. Find love again.

  So why couldn’t she? Even when it was so tantalisingly close to her.

  You’re scared of the pain. Pain that will come when the heat of attraction cools.

  ‘You look beautiful tonight.’ Rafe’s eyes devoured her, making her body tingle with need. Heat unfurled within her as she recalled how often they’d made love in Rome. The first night had been so hot. So wild. She’d slept entwined in his arms, blissfully happy. That slumber had been invaded by yet more desire and in a sleepy haze he’d made love to her again, but that time it had felt so different, so intimate. She’d felt the heat of him as he’d entered her, skin against skin, and the freedom of that had pushed her over the edge, instantly dragging him with her, blocking out the reality of what was happening. The consequences which could follow. Something she now increasingly worried about.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said softly, taking a sip of the velvety red wine. She pushed that worry aside. After all, they would soon be married. She lowered her lashes as the hot memory of that moment of pure, unadulterated freedom fired desire through her once more.

  ‘If you continue to look at me like that, I’ll be forced to take you to my room—right now.’ He moved a little closer, the spark of sexual energy jumping wildly between them.

  She raised her brows at him, feeling like the woman who’d walked into that bar the first night she’d met him. The woman who’d wanted to cast off all her inhibitions along with her past, and be his for that night. She loved the freedom that memory gave her.

  ‘That would be wholly inappropriate, Raffaele Casella,’ she taunted, looking at him as she tasted the berries and the sunshine that had made the wine. ‘Your father has allocated us separate rooms, for propriety. And it’s something my father will also expect to see in place when he and my mother arrive.’