Never Gamble With a Caffarelli

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘I...I have?’

  ‘Forget Barbados and bikinis and bum-biting camels in Mexico. You are now the new poster girl for designer bridal wear. Every top designer wants you on his or her books! There’s a bidding war going on as we speak. You looked absolutely amazing in that traditional garb. No one but you could pull that exotic look off. You’ve created the biggest sensation in bridal wear since the royal wedding.’

  Bridal wear?

  Was this fate’s idea of a twisted joke? ‘Um... Wow, that’s great.’ Should she tell her manager her marriage to Remy was only temporary, a charade unlikely to last longer than it took him to nail the Mappleton account?

  ‘This is the big break you’ve been waiting for,’ Mackenzie went on in her fast-paced New York accent. ‘You’re our golden girl now. You’ll earn millions out of this. It will set you up for life—me too, when it comes to that. I’ll email you the contract. Get it back to me as soon as you can. Take the next couple of weeks off while I sort the spring schedule out. Shanae will fill in for you on the Barbados shoot. Any questions?’

  ‘No...that sounds wonderful.’ I think.

  Angelique put the phone down on the dressing table. She looked at it for a long moment, wondering if she should call her manager straight back and tell her she didn’t want to take up the offer. Her life seemed to be spinning out of control in an alarming manner. A part of her wanted the money that was being put on the table, but the fame and constant exposure that would go with it gave her a troubling sense of unease. She had planned for months to get out of modelling. She was tired of living in the false world of perfection.

  Her body was tired.

  She had notebooks and slips of paper with designs doodled all over them. When would she have time to pursue her dream if she was caught up in a hectic shooting schedule? She didn’t believe in doing things in half-measures. If they wanted her to be the next it girl in bridal wear, then her designs would have to wait...

  Angelique was made up, coiffed and poised when Remy came back to the suite. She felt much more in charge when she had her professional armour on. It seemed important to give Remy the impression their love-making had made little or no impact on her. But it was hard to ignore the way her senses jumped to attention as soon as he came in the door, even harder to ignore the way her skin tightened all over and the way her inner core contracted. ‘Nice walk?’ she said.

  His espresso gaze moved over her in a lazy sweep that tightened her skin and her inner core another notch. ‘I wonder how long it would take me to get you out of that dress?’

  She squared her shoulders even as her belly flipped over. ‘What happened before was a mistake. I’d rather not repeat it.’

  A hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re not a very good liar, ma chérie. What happened before is going to happen again. And soon and often.’

  Angelique felt a shiver course down her spine at the dark glitter of unbridled lust in his eyes. ‘I think it would be foolish to complicate things with that level of involvement. We don’t even like each other. It’s rather unseemly to be going at each other like wild animals.’

  His smile tilted a little further. ‘Unseemly?’

  She willed herself to hold his gaze for as long as she could. ‘Primitive.’

  He closed the distance between them in an easy stride or two. She knew she should have stepped back but her feet seemed to be bolted to the floor. She drew in a sharp breath when he put a hand to the nape of her neck. His warm palm was slightly rough against her soft skin and a shower of sensations spiralled through her at the delicious contact.

  His eyes were so dark they looked like bottomless black pools. His mouth was so sexy, so sensually contoured, her insides shifted restlessly and her own mouth started to tingle.

  ‘The thing is, ma belle, I feel very primitive when I’m around you.’ His hand cupped her left cheek, his thumb pad giving one stroke over her lips that sent every nerve into a frantic dance.

  Angelique’s heart skipped a beat as his thighs brushed against hers. She felt the bulge of his erection. It spoke to everything that was female in her. Her senses were not sleeping or dormant now; they were wide awake and hungry for his touch. Ravenous. ‘Find yourself another plaything.’ She was really rather proud of how curt and cold she sounded. ‘I will not be used by you.’

  His thumb pad moved back over her lips, his eyes still locked on hers. ‘Is that really what you want? To go back to a hands-off arrangement?’

  No! ‘Yes.’ Angelique moistened her lips and tasted salty male. It was like tasting a powerfully addictive drug. She wanted more. Now. Right now.

  His gaze searched hers for a pulsing moment. ‘Fine.’ He dropped his hand from her face and moved away.

  Fine? She looked at him in numb shock. Fine? Why wasn’t he challenging her? Why wasn’t he making her eat her words? Damn it! She wanted him to make her eat her words!

  He glanced at his designer watch. ‘We should get going. I don’t want to lose our booking; I had to pull some strings to get a table at such short notice.’

  ‘I find that very hard to believe.’ Angelique curled her lip as she picked up her purse. ‘The Caffarelli name can get you a table just about anywhere, I would’ve thought.’ Let’s see if I can push a few more of those buttons of his. ‘Maybe I’ll change mine and see if I can cash in on some of the benefits.’

  His expression hardened to stone. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Angelique. This is not permanent. Don’t kid yourself that it will be anything but what it is right now.’

  ‘A war zone?’ she quipped.

  ‘Temporary.’ He held the door open with a pointed look. ‘Shall we?’

  * * *

  It was a popular restaurant owned and operated by one of Britain’s celebrity chefs, which meant it was a famous-person hot spot, so the paparazzi were nearly always on hand.

  Angelique quailed at the thought of fending off another round of intrusive questions. She was a pretty good actor but any body-language expert worth his or her credentials would be able to see Remy was still angry with her. He hadn’t spoken a word to her during the short trip to the restaurant. He had spent the entire time tapping emails into his phone.

  ‘Couldn’t we have stayed and dined in the hotel?’ she asked as he helped her from the limousine.

  ‘No.’ His hand was firm as it took hers.

  ‘But surely we should be avoiding all this attention as much as possible?’ She gave him a pouty glance. ‘Anyway, what will people think? We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon. Eating’s supposed to be the last thing on our minds.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s probably the last thing on your mind, but I’m starving. I need food and I need it now.’

  Angelique rolled one shoulder haughtily. ‘Why are men at the mercy of their basest desires?’

  He gave her a glinting look. ‘Why do women deny their needs as if it’s something to be ashamed of? It’s not wrong to feel hungry or horny. It’s completely natural.’

  ‘You know something?’ She frowned at him. ‘I’ve always really hated that word.’

  ‘What, hungry?’

  ‘Horny. It’s sounds...I don’t know. Coarse.’

  A mocking smile angled his mouth. ‘So underneath that brash, streetwise exterior is a sweet old-fashioned girl? Don’t make me laugh.’

  Angelique glared at him. ‘You don’t know me. Not the real me.’ No one knows the real me.

  He tucked her arm through one of his as he led her into the restaurant. ‘Maybe now’s a good time to start.’

  Dining out for Angelique was like sharing a room with Remy—full of wicked temptation. Being tired and emotionally out of sorts made it much harder for her to rely on her steely resolve to keep to her strict diet. Just like kissing or touching Remy, one taste was enough to throw caution to the wind. Making love with him had changed everything. It was like trying to eat one peanut or one French fry: it was impossible; she would always want more. More of him. All of him. B
ut how could she have him when he didn’t want this arrangement to last any longer than it took to seal his latest business coup?

  The Caffarelli brothers—before Rafe had married and Raoul had become engaged—had written the rulebook for rakes. Of the three of them, Remy had the worst reputation for the rate of turnover of partners. He had never had a relationship last more than a week or two.

  But then, why would he?

  He was spoilt for choice. Women adored him and flocked about him like bees around blossom. He was never in one place longer than a week at a time, which of course made it easy for him to be casual about his hook-ups.

  Did he ever want more than just sex? Did he ever think about the companionship and loyalty his brothers were now experiencing? Did he think about the promise of stability and a love that would last through good times and bad? To have someone to share the bond of children with, to watch as they grew from babies to children to adulthood? To love and protect them, nurture them and teach them how to be good, trustworthy citizens?

  Angelique’s brow furrowed as she looked down at the menu. Instead of the words printed there, she started to picture a tiny baby with a shock of jet-black hair and big brown eyes fringed with dark lashes.

  Remy said he didn’t want children.

  She had said the same. Many times.

  But it wasn’t quite true...

  ‘By the way.’ Remy looked up from the menu he was perusing. ‘We are not leaving this restaurant until I’ve seen you eat something. Understood?’

  Angelique’s back prickled. ‘I have to think of my figure, especially now.’

  ‘Why especially now?’

  She gave him an imperious look. ‘You’re not the only one getting a ratings boost from our marriage.’

  He cocked his head in interest. ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘My manager is firming up a new contract for me to consider. Once I sign it, I’m going to be booked up for months and months.’

  ‘Tell them to wait. Tell them you’re not available until after Christmas. I want you with me for the next month or two at the very least.’

  Angelique felt her heart give a little skip at the thought of him wanting her with him but then she remembered his precious business deal. He wanted her for show, not for her.

  It was an act.

  A game of charades.

  Even though technically she was free to be with him while her manager negotiated the schedule, she resented him arrogantly assuming she would drop everything just because he told her to.

  She was not going to be ordered about by him.

  ‘Do you really think you can just march into my life and take control as if I have no mind or will of my own?’

  He gave her a knowing look. ‘I didn’t come marching into your life. You came blundering into mine. Now it’s time for you to take responsibility for it.’

  ‘By following you around like a stupid little lapdog?’ She gave an exaggerated shudder of distaste before curling her lip at him. ‘I don’t think so.’

  His mouth flattened and his eyes flashed her a warning. ‘You will do as I say or I’ll take everything off your father. Do you hear me? Everything. There won’t be a penny left for you to inherit once I’m done with him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Angelique pressed her spine back against the supports of her chair. ‘Do you really think I will respond to threats?’

  ‘You will if you know what’s good for you.’

  What would be good for me would be to put as much distance between you and me as is globally possible.

  It was too dangerous being with him. How soon before she caved in and fell into his arms again? She had to get away. She had to think. Clear her head.

  Protect her heart.

  Angelique put her napkin down on the table and pushed back her chair. ‘Will you excuse me?’

  His brows snapped together. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m going to the powder room.’ She gave him a lofty look. She didn’t have to tell him which powder room. Like one several thousand kilometres away. ‘Do I need to ask your permission first?’

  His dark, unreadable eyes measured hers for a moment. ‘Fine. Go and powder your nose. But if you’re not back here in two minutes I’ll come and find you.’

  I’ll be miles away by then.

  Angelique only got as far as the street when she was stopped, not by Remy but by her father. He came striding towards her from the cab he had just vacated. His cheeks were puce and his brows were joined over his formidable nose.

  ‘Is it true?’ he asked. ‘Have you married Remy Caffarelli?’

  It was probably perverse of her, but she felt a strange sense of satisfaction at having done something so shocking and outrageously disappointing to her father. He looked like he was having a conniption. ‘News certainly travels fast in this city,’ she said lightly. ‘How did you find out?’

  He gave her a poisonous glare. ‘Do you have any idea of the utter fool you’ve made of me? I was at my club when one of my colleagues informed me. He read a tweet about it. There was a photo of you in a wedding outfit that looked like something out of The Arabian Nights. How could you do this to me? You couldn’t have thought of a worse punishment, you silly little cow. Have you no brain in that stupid, big, fat ugly head of yours?’

  ‘Apologise to my wife or I’ll flatten you.’

  Angelique spun around to see Remy standing there. He had a grim look on his face and his fists were clenching as if he was already rehearsing his first punch. ‘Don’t.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘It’s not worth it.’

  He gently but firmly unpeeled her fingers from his wrist and faced her father. He spoke in French and it wasn’t pretty. Angelique watched as her father’s face went from puce to bright crimson and then back to puce. Even the tips of his ears were bright red, as if he was going to explode on the spot.

  ‘She is my daughter,’ Henri said through tight lips. ‘I’ll speak to her any way I like.’

  Remy suddenly seemed so incredibly tall as he stared down her father. ‘She is my wife and no one gets to speak to her like that.’ His tone was commanding, authoritative. Intractable. ‘Apologise now or suffer the consequences.’

  Her father huffed and puffed but finally he muttered what one could only very loosely describe as an apology before he sloped off back into his cab like a chastened dog being sent to its kennel.

  Remy put a protective arm around Angelique’s waist. ‘Does he normally speak to you like that?’

  She pressed her lips together as she watched the lights of the cab fade into the distance. She felt a sudden desire to cry and had to blink a few times to get control. No one had ever come to her defence before. Her mother had been too weak; the household staff too scared of losing their jobs.

  ‘Ma petite?’

  Angelique looked up at him. Had he ever looked more handsome, more dashing and gorgeous than right now? How could she ever have thought she hated him? She quickly shielded her gaze. ‘We don’t have the best relationship. His short fuse and my smart mouth aren’t a good combination for familial harmony.’

  He brushed her cheek with a light-as-air glide of his finger. ‘Has he ever laid a hand on you?’

  ‘No. But he uses words just as lethally. He did it to my mother. I’m sure it caused her breakdown. She just couldn’t take it any more.’

  His expression flashed with disgust. ‘Why didn’t you say something earlier? I would have sorted him out years ago.’

  Angelique gave a weary sigh. ‘I wanted to plenty of times but who would’ve believed me? It would blot his copybook too much to be seen as anything but a devoted father. The fact that he bawled me out like that in such a public place is a testament to how much he hates you. He would normally never speak to me like that if there was an audience.’

  Remy took her hands and gave them a light squeeze. ‘Promise me something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t ever be alone with him. Ever. Do you understand? N
ever.’

  Right at this very moment, Angelique would have promised him anything. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Good girl.’ He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed both of them in turn, his eyes still holding hers. ‘So, tell me about this new contract. You didn’t get round to telling what it was about.’

  She gave her eyes a little roll. ‘You’re not going to believe what they want me to do.’

  His brows snapped together. ‘Not a naked shoot?’

  Angelique laughed at his fierce expression. ‘No, nothing like that. I’m to be the new poster girl for designer bridal wear.’

  ‘Bridal wear?’

  ‘Yes. How ironic is that? I never even wanted to be a bride and now I’m going to be wearing frothy wedding dresses and voluminous veils every day of the week, and earning millions for the privilege.’

  His dark gaze searched hers for a moment. ‘And you’re pleased?’

  Angelique pasted on her brightest smile. ‘But of course. For one thing, I won’t have to diet so stringently. Just think of the multitude of sins I can hide under a hoop skirt.’

  A smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. ‘This calls for a celebration. Want to go back to the hotel and order in room service?’

  ‘But what about the table you had to work so hard to secure?’

  He gave a shrug. ‘Personally, I think the place is overrated. My brother Rafe’s wife, Poppy, would probably agree with me. Did I tell you she’s a cook?’

  ‘I think I read that somewhere.’ She fell into step beside him as they walked along the footpath. ‘What’s she like?’

  ‘Gorgeous.’ He gave her a sudden grin. ‘I mean that in a brother-in-law kind of way, of course. She reminds me of my mother. So does Raoul’s fiancée, Lily. They’re both really lovely girls. A bit too homespun for me, but still, each to his own.’

  ‘Careful, Remy, you’re starting to sound envious.’

  He shook his head, his smile fading away. ‘I’m not cut out for that domestic scene. I’m like you; I like my freedom too much. Babies seem such smelly, noisy things. And then they grow up and become annoying smart-mouthed tearaways who keep their parents up all night worrying about them. No. Not for me. Definitely not.’