by Sara Craven
‘No,’ he said. ‘Plainly, it is not.’ His arm went round her, drawing her close, his fingers cupping her breast under her coat.
‘Now, what can I do to make amends,mi amore ’ His other hand captured her chin, turning her face up to his so that he
could kiss her mouth. As her lips parted beneath his, she became aware too of his thumb stroking her nipple to helpless
throbbing life even through the thickness of her sweater.
‘Raf!’ She pulled back her head, her whisper strained—breathless. ‘Stop this. Your driver—he’ll see.’
His own voice was low and husky. ‘The glass between us is a screen,carissima . I promise he will see nothing.’ His hand
slid under the hem of her skirt, caressing her knee, as he kissed her again, his tongue achingly, warmly sensuous against
hers.
She tried to think of some protest that would halt this scandalous—thisimpossible torment right here and now, but Raf’s
fingers were moving, edging slowly, enticingly upwards and Emily discovered, shocked, that her entire being was
suddenly focused with shivering, burning excitement on the totally inevitable. On where he was going to touch her
next—and precisely how…
She was already beyond speech, or even coherent thought.
His hand moulded her through her underclothing, claiming her, and she gasped soundlessly, arching towards him, as his
fingertips began to caress her, gently pushing aside the barriers of fabric to discover the moist white-heat of desire that
he’d created. Lingering there.
Then slowly allowing the expert glide of his touch to seek her tiny, sensitive bud and stroke it to a peak of aching, aroused
delight. Holding her with almost cruel precision, on the supreme, burning edge of release, until she whimpered into his
mouth, pleading wordlessly for the promised pleasure.
And, at last, when her fainting senses thought they could endure no more, he took her over the brink into the fierce,
shuddering contractions of satiation, stifling her breathless moans with his lips.
Only brief moments later, still speechless and trembling, Emily became dimly aware that the car was slowing to a halt,
turning through high wrought iron gates on to a broad drive. Signalling that they had arrived at the house and making her
realise at the same time that Raf had gauged her ascent to rapture with a deliberate and wicked accuracy that, in
retrospect, made her burn with shame and embarrassment.
As the car drew up outside the imposing main entrance, Emily saw Gaspare hovering with a large umbrella, his smile
warm if faintly anxious.
‘A hundred welcomes,Eccelenza , and to you,Vossignoria ,’ he greeted them, bowing. ‘We are so happy to see you
again.’
Emily’s legs were still shaking under her as she left the car, but she managed to smile and say, ‘Grazie.’
She was aware of Raf taking her arm and wanted to pull away, but it was impossible because Gaspare was holding the
umbrella protectively over them both as they went up the wide steps and into the house.
‘Shall I have coffee brought to thesalotto, Eccelenza ’
‘The Contessa is tired from the journey,’ Raf said smoothly. ‘I think we would both prefer to go to our rooms and rest
for a while. Come,cara .’
Face burning, she allowed herself to be conducted unwillingly up the imposing staircase and along the gallery to the
massive double doors at the end which led to the master suite.
In spite of her anger and humiliation, she recognised instantly that the main bedroom had been transformed. The walls
were freshly painted and sheer ivory drapes hung at the windows and curtained the enormous bed.
But this did nothing to appease her, especially when she turned on him and saw that he was locking the door.
‘What the hell are you doing’ she demanded furiously.
‘You seem upset,carissima ,’ Raf drawled. ‘If you have something to say to me, I would prefer it to be in total privacy.’
‘I have something to say all right.’ She drew a breath. ‘How dare you treat me like that’ Her voice was uneven.
‘Manipulate me. As if I was some—cheap plaything.’
He was walking to her, but he halted, the dark brows snapping together. ‘If that is how it seemed to you,’ he said, ‘then
you must forgive me. It was certainly not my intention.’
‘Then what did you mean by it’
His mouth twisted. ‘I thought—to give you some pleasure,mia bella .’
‘You imagined I wanted to be—used—humiliated’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That did not occur to me.’ He paused, then added drily, ‘But I see now I made a mistake. I was misled
by your response,carissima . You hid your reluctance well.’
His jibe was deserved and she knew it as her colour deepened and she looked away, mortified. ‘I hate you.’ Her voice
was husky, her body still throbbing from the exquisite anguish so recently inflicted on her.
‘Per me va benissimo, cara.’ His tone was mocking. ‘That is fine with me. But keep your hatred for the daylight hours,e
chiaro . I have other plans for your nights.’
‘But for how long’ She spread her hands in angry appeal. ‘How many nights will there be until I’m no longer a novelty’
Raf shrugged off his jacket and began to unfasten his tie. ‘Chissa! Who knows’ he countered. ‘For me, at this time,mi
amore , you are like an undiscovered country, possessing all the charm of the unknown.’ He gave her a sardonic look.
‘But you will be relieved to know I have no long term strategies that need concern you. Your torture will
end—eventually.’
‘Then make it now,’ she said passionately. ‘Let me go back to England, and you go on with your—your real life here.’
She flung her head back. ‘However much you once owed my father, it could never justify being forced to live like this.
You must see that. So don’t let’s have anything else to regret. Just consider the debt paid in full, and let me—go home.’
‘It is not a question of money,’ he said quietly, unbuttoning his shirt. ‘It never was. As for regrets—I have only one. That I
did not pay court to you as I should have done before our marriage. Taught you a little about your body and its needs, so
that you would have welcomed me into your bed on our wedding night, instead of treating me as if I was a monster.
‘But it is useless to wish the past away,’ he added. ‘And I have no intention of letting you go. You are my wife, Emilia,
and, while you remain so, this is now your home. And, to make quite certain you do not forget that, we shall consummate
our marriage all over again, here and now, in this room and this bed.’
‘But you can’t.’ Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘You have work—meetings to go to. You—you said so.’
He shrugged. ‘All that can wait. Because I have a far more pressing appointment with you,mia cara sposa .’ His tone was
faintly jeering. ‘However, I will make sure those involved are well compensated for any inconvenience.’ He sent her a
sardonic look. ‘And you also,mia bella , as it is daytime and I am intruding on your right to seclusion.’
‘I want nothing from you!’
‘No’ Raf shed the rest of his clothes with unhurried grace and stretched out on the bed, his naked skin golden in the
subdued light. He beckoned to her. ‘Then come here, my lovely one,’ he commanded softly. ‘And prove that to me.’ He
smiled at her. ‘If you can.’
When Emily eventually awoke it was late afternoon and Raf had been gone for hours. She had a vague memory, as she’d
lain half-dozing
, spent and languid from the passion she’d been unable to resist, of his hand stroking her cheek, his lips
touching her hair as he’d left her.
Not that it excused, even for a moment, the way he’d treated her, she thought, turning over and burying her hot face in the
pillow, as she remembered the way she’d been reduced to frantic, sobbing abandonment in his arms in spite of her
protests.
And knowing that she loved him made it even more difficult and hurtful to acknowledge that her only attraction for him
was a physical one.
That there would never be more than sex on offer in this marriage, and any deeper fulfilment would always be denied her.
For Rafaele, she told herself painfully, love was not an option. And she had to accept that and hope for nothing more.
She was suddenly aware that there was movement in the room and sat up, startled. A plump girl whom she’d never seen
before was crossing towards the dressing room, carrying Emily’s discarded clothing over her arm.
‘Un momento.’ Emily hastily hitched up the fine linen sheet to cover her bare breasts. ‘Who are you, please And where
are you going with those’
The girl swung round defensively. She had a round, stolid face and eyes so dark they looked almost black. Unsmiling, she
bobbed a curtsy. ‘I am Apollonia. I am here to wait onvossignoria .’
Oh, God, thought Emily, her heart sinking. This must be the maid Raf threatened me with. I didn’t think he was serious.
But here she is and I really need her tiptoeing about, picking up the clothes he’s taken off me, like I want a hole in the
head.
She said quite gently, ‘But I haven’t asked for anyone, Apollonia. Perhaps you should have waited until you were sent
for.’
Apollonia’s mouth pursed into a button and she almost shrugged. ‘Lo stesso,eccomi, signora . So perhaps I may make
ready a bath for you’
Emily hesitated, tempted to tell the girl that she was perfectly capable of filling her own tub. Especially as it just involved
turning on a pair of taps rather than running about with great pans of hot water, she thought, with a pang of memory.
But the maid was only doing her job, she reminded herself. And, until she had a chance to speak to Rafaele that evening
and explain that she didn’t wish to be waited on, she supposed, in fairness, she should let her get on with it.
On the other hand, she had no wish to get out of bed, naked, in front of a po-faced stranger.
She said, ‘Very well, Apollonia. A bath would be good. And perhaps you could find me a robe.’
The girl did not return her smile. ‘You will wish to dress for dinner,signora . What may I bring you to wear’
‘I’m afraid there isn’t much choice. Most of my clothes are in England.’And probably on their way to the charity shop,
even as we speak. She added, ‘Just—do your best for this evening.’
Apollonia nodded in acquiescence, but there was no lightening in her expression. She went to the dressing room and
returned with a towelling robe that Emily guessed belonged to Raf.
The bath was wonderful, deep and scented, and when she came back into the bedroom, after a prolonged and luxurious
soaking, she found fresh underwear on the bed, with a charcoal pleated skirt and a plain white sweater in thin wool. The
maid herself, mercifully, was nowhere to be seen.
Once dressed, Emily took a long look at herself. Neat, she thought, but not spectacular. And now she had to go
downstairs, knowing that the entire household must be aware exactly how the Count had celebrated his wife’s return to
his home.
But there were no sly smiles or knowing looks from anyone, least of all Gaspare, who was waiting eagerly to open the
doors to thesalotto for her.
There’d been a transformation in this room too. The heavier pieces of furniture had been replaced by elegant antiques
from a much earlier era and most of the gloomy portraits in their ornate frames had also vanished from the newly painted
walls. The cavernous leather seats had gone too, exchanged for deeply cushioned sofas, upholstered in a rich cream
fabric.
There was a cheerful blaze in the great stone fireplace, she saw, and coffee already waiting, with a plate of the small
sweet biscuits made with honey and nuts that she’d liked so much on her previous visit. Rosanna, the cook, must have
somehow remembered after all this time, she thought, her throat tightening suddenly.
‘It is good My lady approves’ Gaspare’s tone was faintly worried. He gestured around him. ‘Before—too dark—too
sad, I think.’
‘It’s all wonderful,’ she said, and meant it. He wanted reassurance, she thought, that she liked the change in her
surroundings. That she was going to be comfortable, so that she’d stay. He didn’t understand it wasn’t a question of new
décor, and never had been.
And she couldn’t tell him.
But no doubt everything would become perfectly clear in due course—when her replacement moved in.
And, talking of replacements…
‘Gaspare.’ She detained him as he was about to leave the room. ‘The girl Apollonia—is she new’
‘Si, signora. But her recommendations are good, although, in the past, she has worked mainly for ladies who are widows
and not young.’ He looked anxious. ‘This is advancement for her and she wishes to please.’
You could have fooled me, Emily thought drily, but she said only, ‘Grazie,Gaspare. I was interested, that’s all.’
She was pouring some coffee when she heard the loud peal of a bell and a moment later Gaspare returned, looking much
more cheerful.
‘The Signora Albero asks if she can be received, my lady.’
‘Why, yes, of course.’ Emily scrambled to her feet. ‘And bring another cup, will you, Gaspare’
Fiona Albero was a pretty girl, with curling brown hair and blue eyes that sparked with mischief. She looked stunning in a
honey-coloured wool suit and an enormous diamond glittered like an iceberg in the sun on her wedding finger.
‘It’s so good to see you again,’ she said, her voice still carrying a hint of her Scottish ancestry. She grasped both Emily’s
hands in hers. ‘But please don’t pretend you remember me,’ she added, her mouth curving humorously. ‘Marcello and I
agreed you were operating on autopilot the night we met. You looked totally poleaxed—as I suppose anyone would if
they woke up and found themselves married to Rafaele.
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she went on hurriedly. ‘He’s Marcello’s best friend since they were at school, and he’s absolutely
terrific—kind and generous as well as totally gorgeous. But it occurs to me that he could also be—formidable.’
Emily smiled back. ‘It’s occurred to me too,’ she said calmly. ‘Won’t you sit down’
‘Raf suggested I should call round,’ Fiona went on when they were both drinking coffee. ‘I said it was too soon, but he
seemed to think you might be feeling a tad—uprooted. Which I would totally understand, having been through it.’
‘It has been something of a shock to the system,’ Emily admitted wryly.
‘But it’s marvellous that you’re here at last.’ Fiona looked around her and nodded. ‘And he’s done wonders with the
house. It’s always seemed so sad and empty in the past. Small wonder to me that he’s always preferred his apartment in
the city.’
Is there one thought Emily. I didn’t know.
But she didn’t say so aloud. Instead, ‘I thought the cottage at Tullabrae was delightful.’
‘Did you’ Fi
ona looked very pleased. ‘It’s where my father was born and we use it a lot, but not in the winter, of