His Virgin Bride: The Fiorenza Forced Marriage / Bought: For His Convenience or Pleasure? / A Night With Consequences. Margaret Mayo
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family for several generations. I spent some of the happiest years of my life in this place before my mother and brother died. I will be damned if I will let one of my father’s whores take even a single pebble from the driveway without my permission.’
‘I’m not planning on making things unpleasant or difficult for you,’ she said. ‘You can live your life and I’ll live mine. We don’t even have to communicate with each other if we don’t want to.’
‘Your very presence here makes things difficult,’ Rafaele muttered as he set his glass down with a loud thwack. ‘But perhaps that is what you and my father planned.’
She frowned at him. ‘I’m not sure what you’re suggesting, but I can assure you I am finding this as difficult if not more so than you. The sooner we end this farce, the better, as far as I am concerned.’ With one last searing glance, she stalked out, leaving him with just his empty glass for company.
AFTER their exchange Emma did her best to avoid Rafaele, although at one point she watched him from her upstairs window as he swam lap after lap in the pool, his strong, leanly muscled body carving through the water with effortless ease. She felt a little guilty drinking in the sight of him, but she couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away. His body was so wonderfully built; lean but powerful, muscular without being over-bulky. His olive skin was a deep even brown as if he had recently spent some time somewhere tropical. His black hair was like wet silk as he vaulted out of the water, the water droplets on his body glistening in the afternoon sun. As he reached for his towel he looked up and locked gazes with her, the lazy smile he sent her seeming to suggest he had known all along she was up there staring down at him.
Emma turned from the window with her heart doing little back flips in her chest, her face hot and her pulse racing out of control. She was deeply ashamed of her reaction to him. She felt like a gauche schoolgirl instead of a grown woman. He had only to look at her and she felt her colour begin to rise both inside and out. That dark smouldering gaze of his set her senses alight every time it rested on her and it seemed there was nothing she could do to stop it. It galled her to think he of all people had such an effect on her. He was an unprincipled playboy, a man who used women as playthings, discarding them when they no longer appealed to him. She knew if she was fool enough to succumb to his potent charm he would break her heart and think nothing of it. After all it would be the perfect revenge to get back at her for what he was convinced she had done to profit from his father’s will.
The new housekeeper came to work at the villa each morning, along with the team of gardeners, which left Emma with even less to do to occupy her time. She caught up on some reading and went for long walks about the town, visiting some of the places she had read about in her travel guide. The tourist season was in full swing by now and she mingled with the crowds, stopping for coffee at one of the many cafes until the heat of the day brought her back to the villa.
After a few days, once the staff had left for the day Emma made the most of the warm weather by dipping in and out of the pool. The water was cool against her heated skin and she closed her eyes and floated on her back, enjoying the sounds of the garden, the birds twittering in the shrubs and trees, the gentle lap of water and the soothing tinkle of the wind chimes hanging in the arbour.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Rafaele’s deep voice sounded from the deck of the pool.
Emma jerked upright, water shooting up her nose as she tried to find her feet. ‘You scared me!’ she said, blinking the water out of her eyes. ‘I thought you’d gone out.’
‘I did, but I have been back about an hour,’ he said. ‘I thought I might find you out here. How is the water?’
‘It’s…lovely,’ she said, trying not to stare at his leanly muscled body. He was dressed in black bathers, the close-fitting Lycra outlining his masculine form so lovingly she felt her breath hitch in her throat.
He dived in and swam several lengths, the effortless motion of his arms and legs making Emma’s earlier efforts seem rather pathetic by comparison.
‘Want a race to the other end?’ he asked as he came up close by.
‘I’m not quite in your league,’ she said with a self-conscious grimace.
‘Come on, Emma, be a devil,’ he said. ‘I will give you a head start.’
Emma took a deep breath and threw herself into it, her arms going like windmills and her feet and ankles flapping with all their might. She thought she was in with a chance until she felt one of his hands grasp her by one of her ankles and pull her backwards through the water. She came up spluttering, and as she twisted round to face him her hands somehow landed on his chest, her legs tangling with his under the water. ‘You cheated!’ she spluttered.
He smiled at her. ‘One thing you should know about me, Emma, is I do not always play by the rules.’
She gave him a reproachful look. ‘In my book you’re not a winner unless you’ve won fair and square.’
His hands settled on her hips, his lower body brushing against hers as he kept them both afloat. ‘Ah, yes, but then I make it a point of always winning,’ he said, looking down at her mouth.
Emma could hardly breathe. His mouth was so close she could see the pepper of stubble on his jaw, his warm breath like a caress as he came even closer. ‘D-don’t…’ she said in a hoarse whisper. He lifted one brow. ‘You do not want me to kiss you?’
She looked into his dark, smouldering gaze. ‘I think it’s best if you don’t…’
‘Why is that?’ he asked, still holding her against him.
‘Um…I think it’s not wise to complicate things…’
One of his hands moved from the curve of her hip to settle at the back of her neck beneath the wet curtain of her hair. ‘How will it complicate things if I kiss you?’ he asked.
Emma took a tight little swallow. She knew exactly what one kiss would do. As it was she had been trying to stamp out the memory of the wedding kiss without success. ‘I don’t want to…to develop feelings for you, Rafaele,’ she said.
His eyes searched hers for a long moment. ‘You think that is likely to happen?’
‘I’m not a casual hook-up type of person,’ she said. ‘After this…arrangement is over I want to get married and have a family. I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t want to leave it too late to settle down. I want stability and commitment. You’re not the person to give me those things.’
A hard light came into his eyes. ‘Nor was my father, but that did not stop you from talking him into giving you a fortune.’
Emma pulled out of his hold. ‘You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Rafaele. I’m not even going to waste my breath denying it again.’
‘Have dinner with me tonight.’
She frowned at him. ‘What?’
‘Let’s go out for a meal,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. Guy meets girl, that sort of thing. Let’s forget about my father and take it one step at a time.’
‘Rafaele…this is crazy,’ she said.
‘What is so crazy about two people going out to dinner and strengthening their acquaintance?’ he asked. ‘After all, we have got to live together for months on end—wouldn’t it be better if at the end of it we were friends instead of enemies?’
‘I can’t imagine us ever being friends.’
‘Only because we got off to a bad start,’ he said. ‘I am not always such a brute you know. I can be quite charming when I put my mind to it.’
Yes, well, that’s what I’m worried about, Emma thought. She was having enough trouble keeping her head as it was. God only knew what would happen