‘For a while we lived in the South of France and I lived next to a large family. They had a family fishing business and were always fixing their gear themselves. I watched. Then I helped.’
From the warmth in her voice he knew she’d enjoyed that time. ‘Did you ever go back to see them? Later, when you’d come out of hiding?’
Her expression froze and she busied herself with fiddling with one of the chrome gauges.
‘Gracie?’
‘People move on,’ she said with a determined smile that he just knew hid heartache. ‘I was only there about ten months, and when you go, people get on with their lives without you.’
‘So you went back?’
She sighed and sent him a look. ‘I did. Years later. And sure enough they were busy with their own families, their own friends—people they’d known all their lives. When you’re only around for a short period, you’re easy to forget.’ She shrugged as if it all made perfect sense.
And it had only been short periods that she’d stayed in each place. So she’d felt forgotten? Unwanted? Unloved. Now he began to understand her current resistance to a nomadic existence. And why she worked so hard to fit into Bellezzo and be needed.
His stomach knotted. ‘I can’t imagine anyone forgetting you.’
She chuckled again. ‘That’s just another example of your feeble imagination.’
He laughed, as she’d intended, but he kept thinking as well. She’d been so lonely. That was why she wanted to put down roots, why she warmed to the merest touch of friendliness, why she worked so hard to make herself indispensable. And she knew that he saw that need in her—to be wanted. Her expression tightened.
‘You leapt to my defence so swiftly tonight,’ she said quietly. ‘Is that what you did for your mother?’
He knew she was asking this to deflect his thoughts from her. Doubtless she thought he’d distract her with desire the way he usually did. But not this time. Somehow it seemed important that she understand. He wanted her to know everything about him, the way he wanted to know everything about her.
‘I wish I could have,’ he replied. ‘But I hardly had the chance. She died when I was twelve.’
‘Only a few years after your father?’ She frowned. ‘But she was so much younger—what happened?’
‘You know my father was over seventy when I was born. My half-siblings were not impressed. They successfully stopped him from marrying her. She refused, because she knew they hated her. They tried to have him declared mentally incompetent, and when that failed, they just waited for the inevitable. The moment Roland died the accusations flew openly—was I even his son? Roland had vetoed any DNA testing, saying it was insulting to my mum. For his will, it was essential.’ The public shame and humiliation of the procedure still swept over him when he thought of it.
‘And you were his son.’
‘Yes. Of course. It seems impossible for anyone else to believe, but they did love each other.’
‘So the test silenced the wider family?’
If only. ‘Suddenly I was an heir and a future Butler-Ross. Apparently that meant I needed “protecting”.’
‘From?’
‘My mother.’
‘What?’ She stared at him, her eyes widening in horror. ‘No.’
‘Money brings so much power, Gracie,’ he said grimly. ‘They told her I’d be better off with the education, the connections that the family could offer. That she had nothing to offer me that could compete with all they had.’
‘But—’
‘I know.’ He held up his hand and smiled at her. ‘And she argued exactly that—she was my mother and she loved me. But then they threatened—courts, custody, you know the drill precisely. They pressured her, she believed she couldn’t compete. She didn’t have the money or the support. So she agreed to their terms. They paid her off, but she still thought we’d see each other.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘I was the illegitimate secret sent to a boarding school on the other side of the country to be smartened up. They used the promise of a visit from her as a reward for good behaviour. If I did well, I’d get to see her. And if I was really good, maybe I could even come to the villa they loved to holiday at in Italy. The one our father had always stayed at for a few months each year...’
‘Oh, Rafe. Did they never let you?’ She glanced back across the water to the beautiful villa—it had been that symbol of happiness, so out of reach for so long.
‘No. And in those years my mother was very unhappy, and she became unwell.’
She looked up at him with those emotion-laden eyes.
‘Addiction,’ he said softly.
‘I’m so sorry.’
Numbing her nightmare, filling the gaping holes inside with temporary plugs.
‘She was beautiful, you know. That’s how I like to remember her.’ Not from the photographs his horrendous half-brother Leonard had so maliciously shown him. ‘Valentina Vitale—not her real name obviously.’ He smiled in reminiscence. ‘She made it up to sound more Italian. She actually was Italian, on her mother’s side, but Valentina Vitale sounded more glamorous. As does Rafael Vitale.’ He sent her an ironic glance. ‘I was her angel baby after all.’ She had loved him. She and the old man had doted on him when he’d been small. He had few memories of that time, but the ones he had were good.
‘And so you’ve kept your name, not your father’s.’
‘They wouldn’t let me have it until after he died and then they tried to force me to change it. But I am who I am and I was hers,’ he said roughly. ‘My name was what she gave me. I’ll never hide or change that.’ He would never let her be forgotten.
‘I changed my name so many times and I hated it.’
‘Yeah.’ Identity mattered. He put his hand over hers. ‘Don’t you hate your parents for what happened?’
She looked over the water. ‘They both thought they wanted the best for me, but they were so busy fighting they forgot what I really needed. Just a home, Rafe. That’s all. Security. Instead, I became the bone between them. And I still can’t win. I still can’t choose. So I visit them each at least once each year and otherwise just stay here. But I don’t hate them, I get it. They love me in their way.’
‘You’re determined to be positive about it?’
‘Well, why would I want to be miserable?’ She turned back to the water.
‘Because what happened was miserable,’ he said simply. ‘Because you were isolated and without roots for years and it’s okay to feel rotten about it sometimes. And, yes, you’ve chosen your new home town and it’s lovely but not everything is perfect all of the time. Like tonight. You felt lonely and to bury it you went back to work.’
‘Well, wasn’t that better than sitting alone and moping?’
But she hadn’t needed to sit home alone. She could have come to him. And it still hurt that she hadn’t.
Beneath his, her hand tightened on the wheel. ‘Let’s see how fast we can get this girl to go, shall we?’
She was the one distracting and deflecting this time, but he decided to let her. Because he was exposed too. He never had told anyone else what had happened to his mother.
‘You’re a secret speed freak,’ he said with a smile.
‘Not so secret,’ she purred, and pushed the boat’s motor until the wind whipped her hair from its braid and her own smile was wide and her eyes sparkled.
‘You want a turn?’ She turned to him after a while.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to give up the steering wheel.’
‘Well, it is a wrench,’ she acknowledged archly, lifting her hand from the wheel. ‘Promise me you won’t crash it.’
‘Have a little faith.’
‘But you’re a novice, right?’
Not completely, but he was enjoying the joke. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m going to be us
eless,’ he answered in mock outrage. ‘You weren’t useless when you were a novice.’
‘Because I’m a quick learner.’ She smiled smugly.
‘And you don’t think I can be?’
‘You don’t need to be. You already have everything just the way you want it. Your game is all figured out.’
He didn’t reply. Only a few days ago he’d have agreed with her completely. But his confidence in his choices now was oddly diminished. The only thing he was sure about at the moment was that he wanted to take her back to the villa. He steadily chugged the boat across the water. After a few minutes he glanced behind him to where she’d curled up on the plush seat and caught her covering a yawn.
‘We’re nearly there,’ he said.
‘It’s truly spectacular,’ she said with sleepy softness. ‘Do you pinch yourself when you remember it’s yours?’
He smiled.
‘Oh, no, that’s right, you own so many amazing properties—not homes—you must get blasé about them all.’
He didn’t stop to think about them much. They were places to sleep. But there was something about this one—the classical beauty of it perhaps, with that perfect symmetrical architecture.
No. It wasn’t the architecture. Something else tugged deep in his chest when he looked at that villa and it wasn’t the childhood memories of his father’s stories—those were old feel-good fantasies. This was present-day laughter, warmth, life. This was all Gracie.
He cruised into the narrow channel that led to the boat shed. He turned the engine off and secured the boat in her berth. Then he turned to Gracie. She lay curled in a ball, her head resting on the cushion, her eyes closed. His skin chilled. Only now did he note the shadows beneath her eyes, the pallor of her skin and that droop to her mouth again—it wasn’t just sadness.
‘You’re exhausted,’ he growled, and scooped her into his arms, suppressing that caveman satisfaction that flickered every time he held her like this.
‘What?’ Her eyes flashed open and she turned on a smile. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re not fine.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be out here just to please me, Gracie. That’s not how things are for us.’
‘I’m having a nice time.’ She even put her arms around his neck as if to prove it.
And okay he knew it was true, but it wasn’t all the truth. ‘But you’re also really tired. Put your own needs first for once, Gracie.’ He frowned. ‘Did you lie to me about the dinner with Alex? Did you want to stay home alone just to get a good night’s sleep?’
‘No, I wouldn’t lie about that.’ She jerked her head in a tiny motion. But then a flicker of guilt flashed across her beautiful features. ‘But, okay, you’re right. I was going to have an early dinner with Alex and I was sad when I saw him with his son. And, yes, the late nights with you are taking a toll. I want to stay so much,’ she added hurriedly in that babbling way she had when she was anxious. ‘But I’m usually a lark and go to bed super early and I was going to have an early night tonight.’
But she could have had an early night here with him—all she’d had to do was talk to him and say how she was feeling. But she hadn’t. Why? Was she worried about his reaction? Did she think she had to please him all the time?
Guilt struck him like a stone thrown from behind. He was a selfish jerk. He hadn’t thought at all about the impact their hedonism might have on her—especially when she worked on her feet all day. He carried her up to his bed. She muttered something unintelligible as he lowered her to the mattress, but he suppressed the desire to waken her fully and please her the way he ached to. She needed rest more than she needed passion. He quickly stripped and got into bed to cuddle her gently. In moments she was fast asleep. His very own Sleeping Beauty once again.
He chose not to wake her during the night, despite the fact he couldn’t sleep for the burning desire low in his belly. Instead, he watched her sleeping, curved against him, her skin creamy and pale in the moonlight, a light flush on those pretty cheeks from the warm evening. She worked so hard and was so loyal, doing nice things for everyone in her life. She deserved something nice in return.
The answer arrived in the smallest of hours. What she needed was a few days off. An actual, real holiday. She was always doing everything for everyone else. Perhaps that was one thing he could give to her.
CHAPTER TEN
GRACIE DRAGGED HER comb through her hair, determined to take each day with delight. She was living ‘in the moment’, which basically meant point-blank refusing to think beyond bedtime. Truth be told, she was struggling to think of anything but bedtime. Especially when she’d fallen asleep last night and missed out entirely on the intimacy she enjoyed so much with him—even more because she’d felt closer to him than ever after what he’d told her.
And what he’d pointed out. He’d seen through her—to the loneliness she’d felt and that lingering hurt from years before. But what was more unsettling was that he’d admitted his own.
But then she’d slept right through till the alarm he’d set and she’d had to scramble for the shower because otherwise she was going to be late for work.
‘I have to go to Paris for a few days. Meetings.’ Rafael walked into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her, stopping her from fixing her bed hair.
‘Nice.’ Gracie nodded, not paying all that much attention to what he was saying—how could she, when he was bare-chested and she was quivering with unquenched desire for him? All she wanted to do was embrace him and hold him close for ever.
‘Come with me.’
She sharpened her focus on his words rather than his looks. ‘You mean to Paris?’
‘Yes, to Paris.’ He mocked her breathiness.
She leaned back to look into his face and see his expression. This time she made herself ignore all the bronzed skin and sharply defined muscles in front of her. She swallowed.
The whisper of uncertainty she’d been feeling all morning thickened into a fog. This was only supposed to be her indulgence—a few days, that was all. He could not possibly be offering her this in the way she so desperately wanted him to mean.
She’d not told him quite everything last night. Her dinner arrangement with Alex had been a little self-administered test for herself. To see if she could have a night away from Rafe, to ensure she still had control of this. Of her heart. And when he’d shown up? She had been stupidly happy to see him. When he’d stood up to Alex’s son, even though he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, her heart had stopped altogether. So touched. He’d seen through her—to her pain, to her tiredness—and that hour with him on the boat had been one of the best hours of her life...so she was in such trouble. A romantic weekend in Paris was only going to further blur the boundaries for her. Because she’d love it. She’d love it far too much.
‘I have a job.’ She cleared her throat. ‘A job I usually work double shifts at. Not to mention your party is next week, or have you forgotten that? And I have other things to do in Bellezzo.’
‘There are other things to do in Paris too. You can go to all the pastry shops. You could consider it a work trip if you must.’ He pulled her closer. ‘It’s only for a few days. We could dine at a different restaurant every night, we could walk along the river, we could even dance... When was the last time you had a holiday?’
It was so tempting that she couldn’t quite bring herself to say no right away. But somehow he already knew.
‘You’re not going to say yes,’ he said, a frown growing on his face.
‘I can’t say I’m not tempted.’ She couldn’t lie. She was unbearably tempted, but that was exactly why she couldn’t say yes. She put her palm on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. ‘But I don’t want to tear around the place following...not just you, not anyone.’ She hoped he’d understand this, he had to understand. ‘I’ve done that most of my life. I want just the one place. I wa
nt a home.’
‘I’m not asking you to leave your job and never return.’ He couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of his reply. ‘It’s only for a few days.’
‘At the height of the tourist season here. People are counting on me. I’m not going to let Francesca down.’
Francesca had been the next to welcome her after Alex. She’d given her a job, she’d let her experiment. Gracie owed her.
‘We can find another designer dress and hit the Paris Opera,’ Rafe wheedled with a wink. ‘I’m sure I can find fireworks or fountains to entertain you with.’
‘That was fun as a one-off...’
‘You know you can’t resist.’
And there was the problem. She needed to know she could resist. She felt vulnerable, like she was teetering on the brink of a very big black hole.
‘I can if you’re not going to be here.’ She smiled.
But he didn’t smile back. ‘You need this trip.’
‘Do I?’ She felt suddenly edgy.
She couldn’t let him tempt her. Then she’d have given way on everything—to sleeping with him, to staying with him, to going away with him. After her parents’ war with her as collateral, she’d sworn not to lose control of her life again, not to allow someone else to make all the decisions—but Rafe threatened more than that. He threatened her heart.
‘I thought you were all about being brave and honest and adventurous,’ he said. ‘You told me life was precious. And you wanted some wildness.’
‘And Paris is going to be wild?’ She tried to tease but it sounded petulant and bitter. Right now she was bitter. This wasn’t what they’d agreed. It wasn’t fair of him to change the rules now when she knew he didn’t want anything more than this. For him it was just a fun affair.
‘With me, sure.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t go with you.’
‘You want to spend the rest of your life hiding in this sleepy village?’ His frustration became audible.
‘I’m not hiding. I’m happy.’
‘Are you? So happy that you fall into bed with the first man who shows you some interest?’
Awakening His Innocent Cinderella Page 13
