Forced Bride

by Sara Craven

  thought, biting her lip, he was still pretty much of an enigma to her.

  For instance, all she knew about his family background was that his parents were both dead, and that was information

  that she’d gleaned solely from her father, who’d warned her that it was not something that Rafaele cared to speak about.

  He’d also suggested that she shouldn’t ask questions, but wait until her husband chose to discuss the subject with her.

  Only he never had.

  But when we’ve been together before, we’ve barely had conversations, thought Emily, let alone discussions. Talking is a

  sharing thing, and I must have known even then that it was dangerous to share. That I needed to keep him at arm’s length.

  I wish I’d also realised how unwise it might be to make him angry.

  For a moment it was as if her eyes blurred suddenly and she ran an impatient hand across them. She couldn’t afford any

  sign of weakness. She’d tried rejection and she’d tried pleading with him, all to no avail. Now, all that was left to her was

  survival.

  I will get through this, she told herself, and I’ll walk away when it’s over without a backward glance. I have to.

  The living room was empty when she went in to set the table but, just as she’d finished arranging the cutlery, Raf

  appeared from the cellar with a handful of candles and a selection of pottery holders.

  ‘Oh.’ Emily hesitated as he put two of them on the table and lit them. ‘Isn’t that a little extreme After all, this is hardly

  formal dining.’

  ‘You saw the lights flickering,si ’ There was faint impatience in his tone.

  ‘Well—yes.’So it hadn’t been her eyes, after all.

  ‘I think we may lose the power,’ he went on. ‘And I thought it would be safer to make other arrangements now rather

  than later.’ He paused. ‘I would rather not test the cellar steps in the dark.’

  ‘No,’ she said with constraint. ‘Of course not.’

  His brows lifted. ‘You don’t like candlelight’

  She shrugged evasively. ‘I’d prefer it not to be a necessity.’

  His glance was faintly mocking. ‘You favour romance over practicality,cara How very sweet. I am encouraged.’

  ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘given the choice, I’d like you to fall down the cellar steps and break your neck,signore .’ And heard

  his low laugh follow her back to the kitchen.

  As a meal, it turned out better than she could have hoped. What the chicken lacked in flavour, it made up in succulence,

  and the vegetables were perfectly cooked. And Emily discovered, to her great surprise, that she was ravenous.

  ‘There isn’t a great deal left for tomorrow,’ she said ruefully, eyeing the carcass.

  He shrugged. ‘The bones will make soup. So do not worry, Emilia, and drink some more wine.’ He refilled her glass.

  ‘Believe me, I will not allow you to starve.’

  There was a silence, then she said slowly, ‘Will you tell me something’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘Ask me and I will decide.’

  It didn’t sound particularly hopeful, but she ploughed on.

  ‘My father told me you’d offered to marry me because you owed him—big time.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m just curious to

  know my—market value.’

  There was a silence. Then, at last, ‘The debt is immeasurable,’ he said expressionlessly. ‘But it was the only repayment he

  ever asked of me, so I could not refuse. Does that content you’

  ‘How can it’ Her voice sounded stifled. ‘When it would have been so much easier on both of us if you’d simply—found

  the money from somewhere.’

  His faint smile twisted. ‘And even easier to be wise in retrospect,cara .’ He rose to his feet. ‘Now I will make some

  coffee.’

  Once the clearing away was done, in actual hours and minutes it seemed a long while until bedtime, but Emily found the

  time passing with disquieting speed as she turned the pages of the thriller she was trying to read with only the sketchiest

  idea of what was taking place in print.

  She could not concentrate. In spite of herself, her eyes kept straying to the neat wooden clock in the centre of the

  mantelpiece, watching the inexorable movement of its hands. The countdown to the inevitable moment when she would

  have to submit to him all over again in that big bed upstairs, she thought, her throat tightening.

  Seated opposite her, Raf appeared to have no such concerns. He seemed totally absorbed in his own book as he

  lounged in the corner of the sofa, reaching every now and then for his wineglass.

  And howdared he be so relaxed, when she was like a cat on hot bricks

  And the worst of it was that she reallywanted to go to bed. She was being assailed by wave after wave of drowsiness,

  which she had to conceal at all costs, she thought resentfully, putting her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle yet

  another yawn.

  ‘Why don’t you stop struggling,carissima , and admit you are tired’

  He was watching her, she realised angrily, with open amusement and had probably been doing so for several minutes,

  book discarded, hands loosely clasped behind his head as he leaned back on the cushions.

  ‘I’m not a bit tired,’ she denied hurriedly and saw his smile widen.

  ‘I am delighted to hear it,’ he told her softly. He got up and put the guard in front of the fire, then moved round the room,

  checking the door and turning off the lamps. Making the usual preparations for the night, as if he’d done so a hundred

  times before. Whereas, in fact…

  Her mind closed off at that point. She sat where she was, unmoving, her whole body taut, aware of the uneven barrage of

  her heart against her ribs.

  At last he came to her in the fire glow, reaching down for her small, cold hand and drawing her to her feet.

  ‘It is time for bed,mia bella ,’ he said quietly and led her upstairs to the room where the shadows waited.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EMILYstood in the middle of the room, staring down at the floor, anticipating the moment when he would touch her and

  the fight to resist the lure of her senses would start once again. Along with the realisation that she was by no means sure of

  victory.

  Rafaele came to stand behind her and she felt him remove the band that confined her hair and begin to free it from its tight

  braid. His fingers were gentle and very thorough, combing through the silky strands until they hung loose about her face

  and shoulders.

  In some strange way, she thought dazedly, her skin warming, it was one of the most intimate things he had ever done to

  her. Almost more so than sex itself.

  Then he lifted the scented auburn mass in both hands and she felt his lips caress the exposed and vulnerable nape of her

  neck.

  Her entire body shivered at the brush of his mouth and she wondered if he knew this, and realised it was all too likely.

  That he knew everything about female bodies, their responses and reactions. Knew—and exploited his knowledge. So

  any sign of weakness on her part could be her ultimate downfall, and she must never forget that. Never.

  It also seemed, from the smoothness of his skin against hers, that he’d had the promised shave—presumably while she’d

  been preparing dinner.

  Advance planning, she thought, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. He said softly into her ear, ‘Don’t make me

  wait too long,cara ,’ and moved away, but only, she realised at once, to undress. She knew, too, that he expected her to

  do the same, there in front of him. And that there was no real reason to
hesitate, because he’d already seen her naked.

  Had already touched and kissed every inch of her, his astonishing patience pitched against her stubborn will.

  She had nothing left to hide from him, but her hands were still slow and reluctant as she tugged her sweater over her head

  and tossed it on to the nearby chair. She unzipped her cords and eased them down over her hips, stepping out of them in

  order to do the same with her tights, all the time keeping her back resolutely turned to him.

  His approach was soundless. She only realised he was standing close behind her when she reached round awkwardly to

  unhook her bra and felt him move her hands aside so that he could perform the task himself.

  He slid the straps from her shoulders, kissing the faint marks they’d left on her skin, then removed the little garment

  completely, dropping it to the floor.

  He drew her slowly back against him, her head resting against his bare chest, letting her feel the heat of his aroused body.

  His lips feathered kisses down the side of her throat as his hands cupped her small firm breasts, his fingertips drawing

  lingering circles round her nipples, making them rise proudly like dusky roses in bud.

  ‘Bellissima.’ His voice was husky. ‘Deliciosa.’

  He let one hand move slowly downwards with smooth and deliberate purpose, his fingers slipping under the edge of her

  lacy briefs to seek the silken triangle at the joining of her thighs.

  ‘No.’ Her voice was a gasp as her hand fastened round his wrist, halting him, forbidding him to go any further.

  ‘Stop—please.’

  He paused, his fingers splayed across the flat plane of her belly.

  He said quietly, ‘Tell me something, Emiliamia . Why are you so afraid of pleasure’

  ‘It has nothing to do with fear,’ Emily said stonily, aware that she was shaking inside. She pulled away from him, drawing

  a deep breath. Staring in front of her. Not at him. Not daring to look at him.

  ‘You take three years from my life, you destroy my hopes of future happiness, and then you take me.’ Her voice rose.

  ‘And I’m supposed to be grateful—and willing’

  She shook her head. ‘In your dreams,signore . Besides, being mauled by you is far from my idea of pleasure,’ she added

  defiantly.

  For a long moment Raf did not move or speak. Then suddenly he was no longer holding her—touching her, and she was

  aware of him moving away across the room. Of the slight creak of the mattress as he got into bed.

  For a few heartbeats she paused uncertainly, then fumbled off her briefs, putting them with the rest of her clothing.

  Drawing a deep, jagged breath, she turned and walked to the bed, resisting the impulse to cover herself with her hands.

  But far from gloating avidly over her approach, Raf was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

  Emily slid hurriedly under the covers, pulling them up over her shoulders, then lay still, waiting for him to reach for her.

  But he did not move and, as the long minutes passed, her tension grew and the deeper inner trembling intensified.

  At last he turned his head and looked at her, the hazel eyes cool and steady.

  ‘I will make a bargain with you, Emilia,’ he said. ‘Kiss me and I will ask nothing else from you tonight.’

  Emily stared at him, then found a voice from somewhere, almost squeaky with surprise. ‘You’ll let me—just go to

  sleep—for a kiss

  ‘I have just said so.’

  ‘But I thought you wanted…’She didn’t just think—she knew. When he’d been holding her just now the evidence of his

  desire for her had been frank and unequivocal.

  ‘Undoubtedly I did.’ His mouth twisted. ‘But I find I am no longer in the mood to treat you as gently as I should, given

  your inexperience.’ He added coldly, ‘So perhaps I deserve a little of your gratitude, after all, if my only demand is a kiss.

  You are escaping lightly, believe me.’

  He paused. ‘Do you accept my offer, Contessa’

  ‘I—I suppose so.’

  ‘Bene.’ He waited for a moment, watching her, brows raised. ‘But you will need to come closer,cara mia ,’ he added, his

  tone almost bored. ‘Sadly, it is impossible for you to reach me from such a distance.’

  Biting her lip, Emily edged warily across the bed. When she was within range, she leaned over him, her lips brushing

  swiftly and awkwardly against his in the most fleeting of contact.

  There was a tingling silence, then he said softly, ‘That may be your idea of a kiss, Emilia, but it is not mine. There is ice

  enough outside the house at this time. I do not require it here in my bed.’

  She stiffened, needled by the faint derision in his voice. ‘I’m sorry if you’re not satisfied…’

  ‘Now that, as we both know, is a lie,’ he said. ‘But now is not the time to discuss my level of satisfaction, or lack of it,

  and what you might do to improve it.’ He allowed her a moment to assimilate that, then added, ‘At the moment, you are

  simply required to—try a little harder.’

  He raised a hand, cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, so that she could not pull away. ‘So, kiss

  me again,cara mia ,’ he invited quietly. ‘Kiss me as you did on that long ago night in your father’s house.’

  ‘But—but that was when I thought you were—someone else.’ Her voice was a breath.

  ‘Did you truly,bella mia ’ Raf asked cynically. ‘I have often wondered how that could be possible. But, if it is easier for

  you, pretend once more that I am someone else. I promise I will not even ask his name.’

  His hand was impelling her down to him, bringing her ever nearer to his waiting mouth.

  And this time, as her lips touched the firm warmth of his, she found herself allowing the contact to lengthen—even to

  linger. Because, she told herself in growing confusion, this was what he wanted. And it was such a minor demand for him

  to make after—after all those others.

  Suddenly he moved, reversing their positions smoothly and swiftly, so that she was lying on the pillow, looking up at him,

  her startled eyes widening.

  And then he was kissing her, his mouth moving on hers slowly and achingly at first, then with a hard, deepening

  urgency—a hunger that made the soft, trembling contours of her lips feel bruised.

  Until she could scarcely breathe. Or think rationally any more.

  Or why else would she have found that, against all expectation, she wanted to return the sensuous pressure that he was

  subjecting her to That she needed to learn the lines of his mouth as thoroughly as he was exploring hers And, maybe,

  even more…

  And then, with almost shocking suddenness, it was over, and he was lifting himself away from her.

  ‘A great improvement,’ he said in a tone so impersonal that Emily, still dazed, almost expected him to give her marks out

  of ten. He ran a careless finger down the curve of her cheek. ‘Now, sleep well,cara ,’ he added lightly. ‘And may all your

  dreams be sweet.’

  He turned to switch off the lamp, leaving her with an unwanted, but potent image of the long, supple line of his naked

  back before the room was plunged into darkness.

  Emily turned away too, almost scuttling to the opposite side of the bed, lying, taut and breathless, on its furthermost edge

  as she waited for her heartbeat to regain its normality.