A Shocking Proposal in Sicily

by Rachael Thomas

  This was the moment her life changed—beyond recognition—for ever. It didn’t matter what Rafe’s answer was. Her life would change—had already changed.

  ‘You were a virgin that night, no?’ he demanded as he moved closer, his dark eyes hard and piercing. ‘Dio mio, Ana, a virgin and a princess.’

  ‘Yes, I was,’ she snapped indignantly. He would never understand what was at stake for her right now.

  ‘You never intended to see me again, did you?’ There was a hint of feral anger in his voice now. ‘Yet here you are. A princess. Offering me, the man who claimed your virginity, a marriage deal.’

  The memory of that night became sourer with each word he spoke, each accusing statement. She wanted to turn and leave but her feet wouldn’t move, her limbs were frozen. She had to do this, had to finish what she’d started, if she stood any chance of saving the people of Ardu Safra from poverty—saving her father from the shame of financial ruin. If she wanted to avoid a fate worse than death, by marrying Nassif, then she had to make Rafe see this was the best way. For both of them.

  ‘We both need to get married and we know...’ She paused as embarrassment rushed over her, obliterating the cool, controlled Princess she was trying to be.

  ‘That we can ignite intense passion between us?’ he finished for her, moving closer still, his tall broad shoulders blocking out the light. Her head began to ache. Pressure mounted around her, making her nauseous.

  ‘It’s not just that I need to make a marriage for the good of my country. Or even to produce a much-needed heir,’ she hastily added, wishing she could step away from him, wishing her body didn’t long for his touch, his caress. Wishing she wasn’t giving away all that with every breath.

  ‘What else?’

  ‘My family are on the brink of financial ruin. I need a husband. A wealthy man. One who can clear all debts, reinstate stability into our economy.’ The truth rushed out and she looked up at him. Waiting.

  His eyes scanned her face. Searching for lies. Searching for truth. ‘And the Casella fortune that I stand to inherit is your way out?’

  She blushed as the shame of it fell over her like the shadow of a storm cloud about to break.

  Rafe’s eyes darkened, reminding her even more of that night as he moved closer to her. So close she could almost taste him. ‘Give me one good reason why I should marry you.’

  ‘If you don’t, I will have to marry a man chosen by my father.’ She gulped down the panic just thinking about it induced. ‘My wedding is set for October, my twenty-sixth birthday. If I haven’t secured a husband by the beginning of September, I must marry Nassif.’

  ‘Nassif?’

  ‘A cruel man, older than me. Widowed.’ She looked at Rafe, at the shock on his face. Should she tell him more? ‘Uncle of the man I should have married.’

  ‘Why not just say no?’

  Her eyes widened in shock. ‘I’m a princess. Marriage is my duty.’

  ‘And you think my need to do my family duty will be as strong as your desire to avoid marriage with this Nassif?’ The darkness of his eyes had hardened, his expression becoming sterner by the second. His handsome features, which had so captured her imagination that night in London, were hard and angry, showing the true man, she reminded herself, not the man of her wistful dreams.

  Panic tore through her. If he didn’t want to marry her...? She couldn’t bear the thought of having Nassif as her husband. Of sharing with him the kind of intimacies she’d shared with Rafe. She shuddered at the thought.

  With a deep breath, she touched the large pearls at her neck, wanting to be free of the clothes she’d chosen for this moment. Wanting to be in London, in her flat, in the life she could no longer have. Her panic increased. If Rafe didn’t want to marry her she didn’t know what she was going to do.

  ‘And why me?’ He moved another step closer, questioning her softly, sending her pulse rate into freefall.

  ‘Because we can offer each other everything needed.’ She looked up into his eyes, imploring him to understand. Willing him to accept her deal.

  ‘And our night in London has nothing to do with this?’ Suspicion laced through his words like mist in the winter.

  ‘Nothing whatsoever. Although I am certain I’m not the first woman you have taken to your suite within hours of meeting.’ The truth of that statement cut like broken glass, shattering the fairy tale of that night for evermore.

  * * *

  Rafe scanned Kaliana’s face once more as he tried to push away the image of an older man touching her, when he’d been the first man to show her pleasure. Doubt clouded her eyes, but poise and elegance shone through. He didn’t doubt her claim of being a princess. This was a woman in control. She wasn’t going to stand by and be dictated to.

  He respected that. Still his suspicions persisted. Why him? Why now?

  ‘And if I don’t wish to marry you?’ Why had he said that when the answer to his dilemma stood deliciously in front of him, offering herself to him, reigniting that flame of desire? That powerful sexual chemistry. How could he be turning down more nights like the one they had shared?

  But...marriage?

  Her lips parted as his question hit home. The inviting softness of them reminded him of their lusciousness, of the way they’d tasted of champagne as he’d claimed them in that first demanding kiss at the bar.

  ‘You said you needed to marry.’ Her eyes widened, and a smile spread over his lips. She hadn’t thought he would refuse. She’d been so sure of herself. A wave of satisfaction at disrupting her plans, her obviously well-prepared speech, surged through him even as he knew he would accept her deal. She was the key to keeping the only thing that mattered to him: Pietra Bianca.

  She was the only key.

  ‘Maybe I no longer care what happens to the family name—or the fortune.’ He paused as he watched her beautiful face, fighting hard against the urge to reach out and brush his fingers across the softness of her cheeks.

  ‘It would be a marriage we’d both benefit from.’

  ‘I suppose there is the fact that we know we are more than compatible in the bedroom.’ He couldn’t help taunting her again. Reminding her of what they’d shared.

  She flushed, her icy composure knocked once more, the woman he’d met that night shining through like the brightest star.

  ‘That has nothing to do with my proposition.’ The star dimmed, sliding behind the clouds of propriety. The aloof Princess who mourned her true love was back in play.

  ‘Are you sure?’ He moved forward, reaching out to push back stray strands of hair, wanting to coax out the sex siren.

  ‘Of course it hasn’t.’ She snapped out the denial, the frosty Princess façade truly on display. ‘This is a deal which would benefit us both.’

  ‘That is true.’ He paused, his mind lost in another time, another night—another woman. He shut down those thoughts. ‘But it will give us the opportunity to explore what still sparks between us.’ Again, he taunted her, even knowing what she said made sense. Marriage was the one thing he didn’t want. It was also the one thing he would do. For his family. For his mother.

  But this woman? She’d already threatened to break through his defences. How was he going to share the intimacies of marriage with her when he already knew he could want her—if he allowed himself to?

  ‘It will be a business deal, Rafe, nothing more.’

  No, he couldn’t do it. But if he didn’t he’d lose the last chance of gaining his father’s respect, along with the one thing that held precious memories of his mother. ‘And if I don’t want such a business deal?’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KALIANA PANICKED. SHE hadn’t expected the man she’d spent a passionate night with to throw her deal back at her. To virtually be telling her she was mad for even suggesting it. Stupidly, she’d expected him to be grateful to her for offering him a sol
ution to the problem he’d confided to her that night.

  She hadn’t expected any of this. Hadn’t expected the smouldering intensity in his eyes. The heat that just the brush of his fingers on her face could ignite—or the blatant reminder of what they had shared in London that night.

  She hadn’t thought this through properly. Maybe he’d already found a bride. The thought sent a spike of fear piercing through her. There was so little time left and she’d been so sure he would agree. But it seemed she’d got it all wrong. The thought of marrying Nassif looked like a scary reality.

  ‘I can see I have misjudged things,’ she said, stepping away from him as much as the small room would allow. Suddenly she couldn’t bear to be close to him. Couldn’t bear to be reminded of that night, of how he’d made her feel and think. ‘It was wrong of me to assume. I’m sorry I have wasted your time.’

  Kaliana turned, reaching out almost blindly to open the door, her heart hammering with hope. Hope that he would tell her to stay. Silence slammed into that futile hope. If he let her go now, she would have to walk away from not only the chance of being free of Nassif, but she would also be walking away from the man who still infused her body with desire. If she had to marry anyone, she would rather it was this man.

  The thought of giving herself to any other man was now repulsive to her, but her marriage needed to create children—an heir for Ardu Safra. How could she even contemplate Nassif touching her? How could she endure it, knowing what real passion and desire were?

  She closed her eyes against the pain of her situation. The humiliation of what she’d just done. She’d told him something nobody knew, other than Claire. She’d told him who she really was and in doing so had effectively ended the escape of that new life. Her father had made such anonymity possible and if word got out he would revoke that favour. He would insist she return to her life in the country she loved. But it was a country so stuck in the past, in old traditions, she couldn’t face living there. Couldn’t face being its Princess. She’d always vowed she’d change things, bring everything up to date when she became the Queen, but with Nassif at her side it would be almost impossible.

  Time was running out. Fast. She needed a husband.

  A wealthy husband.

  With a sensation of lead in her stomach she opened the door, the voices of the remaining members of the audience sounding loud and harsh. Rafe wasn’t going to stop her. He was going to allow her to walk away. After everything they had shared—or was it because of everything they’d shared?

  Kaliana stifled her cry of distress, stepping out of the small office, her head high. The sensation that she was walking into a bleak future was suddenly so real. But she wouldn’t look back. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distress, damn him.

  ‘Ana.’ He took hold of her hand, bringing her escape to an abrupt halt. Turning, she looked up at him. He was suddenly very close. Too close. Her body responded, the memory of his all too clear in her mind.

  ‘You have made yourself clear. There will be no deal.’ She wouldn’t let him see her pain, her disappointment. Her panic. ‘I hope you find the solution you need.’

  His dark eyes held hers, the heaviness in her stomach lightening, becoming a flutter of butterflies. He moved closer still, the intensity in his eyes increasing. He was going to kiss her. She could see it in the darkening of desire in his eyes. She shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t want him to.

  So why did she? Why did she tilt her chin up? Why did her breath raggedly slip out and her pulse race? Why did she part her lips so expectantly?

  She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted to taste him again—and more. Her body was remembering, the woman she’d been that night resurfacing, even as she tried to keep her cool façade, the demeanour of a princess. It was a futile battle. The Princess she was supposed to be faded fast as that spark, that intense sexual chemistry, swirled round them.

  He moved closer still, until they were almost touching and, lowering his head, he brushed his lips over hers. She sighed, pressing herself to him, unwittingly begging for more. Rafe obliged, wrapping her in an embrace so tight her body was fused with his. The slumbering remains of the fire he’d ignited inside her that night in London burst back into life, the flame of desire leaping high, catching her unawares, dragging out the woman he’d awakened.

  Kaliana closed her eyes, leaning against him, giving herself up to what she’d been wanting since the moment she’d walked away from him that morning. His touch. His kiss. She slid her hands around his neck, her fingers delving into his hair, passion beginning to consume them. Sweeping them away, making her oblivious to anything around them.

  This was what she’d wanted for the last two months. This was what she’d fought so very hard against. This passion. This desire. This man. She kissed him harder as the flames of passion rose up, engulfing her completely. He responded, the intensity of his kiss matching hers.

  Rafe moved backwards, still kissing her, his arms wrapped tight around her. She had no option but to move with him back into the room. He kept his arms around her, his body fused to hers, his lips demanding everything from hers. Reaching out, he pushed the door shut. The sudden intimate silence made her gasp against his lips.

  They were alone again.

  ‘We haven’t finished yet, Ana.’ He let go of her, walking away to stand once more in front of the window. Her body felt limp, weakened by his kiss, by being pressed against his body. Weakened by him.

  ‘But I thought...’ She struggled to find the words as her heart thumped wildly, the heavy pulse of desire heating her from within.

  He turned to face her, anger sparking in his eyes, his jaw tight. ‘That you could breeze back into my life, this time as the Princess you really are and not refer to all we shared that night?’

  ‘You need a wife, Rafe.’ Kaliana clung to the facts, desperate not to explore the way he made her feel, the excitement of being kissed by him again. Practicalities. That was what she needed to concentrate on. ‘And I need a husband.’

  ‘I don’t want marriage, Ana, but I have to marry, choose a bride. That’s why I was drowning my sorrows in whisky that night.’ Rafe looked down at her, the war of emotions on his face, in his eyes, all too clear. All too familiar. ‘Why should that bride be you, when we know so little of one another?’

  ‘What do you want to know?’ She kept her focus even though she couldn’t help but smile at him, sensing she’d found a way through his armour. Found a way to make him see this was what they both needed.

  ‘I want to know everything about you, Princess Kaliana, but, more than that, I want to know all about the woman I met in London.’

  * * *

  Rafe saw the smile slip from Kaliana’s lips, saw her face pale. The throb of desire from their kiss, a kiss that had been witnessed by many before he’d pushed the door shut, still hummed in his veins. Demanding more. Demanding satisfaction.

  ‘Like what?’ The defensive Princess was back in play and he smiled at her prickly demeanour. Now he knew why she’d all but demanded champagne at the bar that night. She was used to the good things in life. Was that why she wanted to make a marriage that would bring wealth to her country? Or was it really her concern for her people? But he had other, far more pressing questions.

  ‘Why did you leave that morning in London? Why did you sneak away before I woke?’

  The moment he’d woken to find her gone had totally knocked him. In the previous hours he’d given so much more of himself to her than he had to any woman. He’d stupidly believed he’d finally met the woman but had pushed that aside as his predicament, his duty to his family, had swamped such ideas totally. That and the fact that any woman he’d got close to had slipped out of his life, leaving a void he had never been able to fill.

  The coldness of the sheets in the bed had told him she’d long since gone. Had she waited until he’d slept? Waited until the exhaustion
of such mind-blowingly hot sex had claimed him?

  ‘Isn’t that the protocol for a one-night stand?’ Her chin lifted defensively and sparks of irritation verging on anger shone in her eyes, making their dark brown depths a deep gold. She tilted her head coyly to one side, her thick dark hair falling over her shoulder. ‘I have never done anything like that before, so if I got it wrong I apologise.’

  ‘Sì, sometimes that’s the protocol,’ he acknowledged, acutely aware that never had a woman slipped from his bed and left him before. He’d always dictated the longevity of an affair, be it hours or weeks. ‘But I would like to know—would you have given your virginity to any man that night?’

  She blushed and looked down and something crushed him. Hard. Wrapping tight binds around his chest. Standing there in that moment, she looked vulnerable. Alone. Then she looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He became aware of the clock ticking on the wall, marking loudly each passing second as he waited for her answer. He needed to know. Needed to hear that she’d been as drawn to him as he’d been to her. That their night of passion had been fate throwing them together. That it hadn’t been contrived. That she had wanted it as much as she’d led him to believe.

  ‘I never set out to spend the night with anyone. A bit of harmless flirting, yes, but not that.’ Her whisper was soft. Her face pale. Vulnerability radiated from her so strongly now it was difficult to resist the urge to wrap her up in his life and protect her. ‘But something changed...’

  Her words trailed off as if she couldn’t tell him. Didn’t want to admit to anything.

  ‘What changed, Kaliana?’ He’d used her full name and it felt good. Right. Slowly he moved closer, unable to help himself. Wanting to be near her, wanting to touch her. Wanting even a hint of evidence that she’d been as consumed by him as he’d been by her.