Never Gamble With a Caffarelli

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Angelique gave him a playful little shoulder-bump. ‘I’m sure not all children turn out horribly spoilt, obnoxious brats like you and me.’

  He gave her a crooked grin as he gently shoulder-bumped her back. ‘God forbid.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  REMY WATCHED an hour later in their suite as Angelique nibbled at an undressed green salad and took occasional sips from a glass of Chianti. When she wasn’t acting tough and being lippy, she was surprisingly good company. Quirky. Funny. Engaging.

  Something had shifted in their relationship outside the restaurant.

  He had been brought up to defend and protect women. Not by his grandfather, who exploited them any chance he could, but by his father before he had died and his two older brothers. Remy didn’t mind the occasional verbal brawl, but insulting a woman and calling her names was not something he could ever tolerate.

  He had never liked Angelique’s father, even when Henri had been a regular visitor at his grandfather’s villa in Rome, well before he had come across him in business. Remy had always found him two-faced, sly and conniving. The fact that Henri had been verbally abusing his wife and daughter disgusted Remy but it didn’t surprise him. Men like Henri Marchand used power in dishonourable ways. They snatched at it whenever they could and gave little thought to the harm they were causing others.

  Remy wondered if Angelique’s wilful and at times reckless behaviour was a reaction to the tyranny she had lived under for so long. While she didn’t live with her father, and hadn’t for a long time, he still seemed to have power to hurt her. He’d seen the way she’d flinched at Henri’s horrible words. It was no wonder she was so adamantly opposed to marriage since the example set for her had been so appalling.

  Protecting her had been an automatic reaction for Remy. He had been prepared to use force if he’d had to, although generally he didn’t condone physical violence. His anger at her escaping from the restaurant had turned so quickly into something else.

  He still wasn’t quite sure exactly what it was...

  ‘Do you want some more wine?’

  Angelique shook her head. ‘No, one is enough. I’m not a big drinker. Too many calories.’

  Remy frowned as he looked at her barely touched meal. ‘This new contract... How does that fit in with your plans to focus on designing?’

  She put her glass back down and met his gaze. ‘It’ll take ages, possibly months or even up to a year, to get to the manufacturing and selling stage. I’ll need an income in the meantime. I can’t live on air.’

  He gave her a dry look. ‘You’re doing a pretty fine job of it so far. You’ve only taken a couple of nibbles of that piece of lettuce.’

  ‘I don’t need a lot of food.’ She gave his empty plate a baleful glance. ‘Unlike some people, who have disgustingly voracious appetites and seemingly hollow legs.’

  ‘I’m not a glutton. I just love food.’

  She arched a neatly groomed eyebrow in a worldly manner. ‘And sex.’

  He gave her a glinting smile. ‘That too.’

  There was a little silence.

  She passed the tip of her tongue over her lush lips and an arrow of lust speared Remy in the groin. Was she thinking of their passionate union earlier?

  He hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

  He hadn’t stopped feeling it tingling in his flesh like aftershocks in the wake of an earthquake. He could still taste her sweet vanilla and milk taste. He could still feel the softness of her lips, the boldness of her clever little tongue, the smooth glide of her hands and fingers.

  He suppressed a shudder as he thought of what that mouth and those hands could do to him. What that gorgeously tight, feminine body had done to him.

  Made him lose control.

  ‘We’re going to have to share that bed,’ Remy said. ‘Maybe we should put down some ground rules first.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Her expression was pert. ‘A chalk line down the middle?’

  ‘I was thinking more of a roll of pillows or a bolster.’

  ‘How about a barbed wire fence?’

  Remy felt another arrow hit bull’s-eye. ‘I wouldn’t want you to get hurt when you head over to my side.’

  She gave him an arch look. ‘What makes you think I would come over to your side?’

  ‘You think we can keep this thing between us on ice? Seriously, how long do you think that’s going to last? You’re hot for me. You can deny it all you like, but I know you want me. You’ve always wanted me.’ Like I’ve always wanted you.

  She flickered her eyes upwards. ‘I can’t believe the size of your ego. I might have wanted you, but I’ve had you, and quite frankly once is more than enough.’

  Remy felt the rush of a fresh challenge fire through his blood. She was playing hard to get. It was another point-scoring game to her. She had sensed his weakness and was going in for the kill.

  Did she want him to beg?

  He would never do that.

  He could live without sex—for a while. Sure he could. Monks did it all the time. It was supposed to be good for the mind. It was supposed to be mentally cleansing...or something.

  ‘So, what are you saying? I didn’t float your boat or something?’

  ‘The sails gave a little flutter but that was about it.’

  She was lying. He had felt her spasms and he had heard her cries. Unless she was a very good actress, she’d had the orgasm of her life. Why then was she so keen not to repeat it? ‘If you change your mind then just lean over and tap me on the shoulder,’ he said. ‘I’ll be happy to get your motor started.’

  She gave him a withering look. ‘Don’t hold your breath.’

  * * *

  Angelique came out of the bathroom half an hour later to find Remy lying on his back with an e-reader flopped down on his chest. His eyes were closed, his breathing was steady and even, his body naked from the waist up. She wasn’t sure if he was naked below the waist, because the sheet was covering him, but she had a feeling he wasn’t the type of guy to wear pyjamas to bed.

  She let her eyes feast on his naked chest and broad shoulders. Each muscle was so perfectly contoured, toned and taut with not an ounce of excess flesh on him anywhere. His hair was tousled, as if he had not long ago run his fingers through it, and his face was shadowed with evening stubble.

  All of the Caffarelli brothers were staggeringly gorgeous but Angelique had always found Remy’s dark features particularly so. It was something about his chocolate-brown eyes, the way they glinted with amusement or mockery even when he was doing his deadpan thing. It was the way his mouth was fashioned, the lower lip fuller than the top one. The chiselled leanness of his jaw; the way he always looked like he hadn’t shaved closely enough. It was something about his hands with their long, tanned fingers that felt like a Taser zap when they touched her.

  Angelique carefully approached his side of the bed and lifted the e-reader off his chest. He made a low murmur and she paused before she put the e-reader on the bedside table. She tiptoed round to her side of the bed, gently peeled back the covers, slipped in and huddled right on the edge so no part of her body was anywhere near his. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep but the citrus scent of his aftershave stirred her senses. She could feel the warmth of his body; it seemed to be reaching out to her, enveloping her...tempting her.

  She jammed her eyes even tighter together and brought the covers right up to her chin.

  She would not touch him!

  * * *

  Angelique must have drifted off eventually because she when she opened her eyes it was light and Remy was already up, showered and dressed. He’d dropped the towel he’d used over the back of the velvet covered chair he was now sitting on as he typed something into his phone, a heavy frown between his brows.

  ‘Don’t you ever pick up after yourself?’

  ‘Hmm?’ His tone was absent and he didn’t even look her way as he kept typing.

  Angelique swung her legs over the side of
the bed, slipped her arms through her wrap and tied it around her body. She came over to where he was sitting, picked up the damp towel and held it between two fingers. ‘Do you ever spare a thought for the person who has to come in and service your room?’

  ‘What?’ He glanced at her then, his expression still dark with a frown.

  ‘You leave stuff everywhere. The least you could do is hang your towel up or leave it in the tub or the shower cubicle if you’re not going to use it again.’ She put her hands on her hips and glowered at him. ‘Stop typing when I’m talking to you!’

  ‘You’re not talking to me, you’re nagging me.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s what wives are forced to do, because their lazy husbands don’t see the hours of invisible work that goes on behind the scenes to keep a house running smoothly.’

  He rose to his feet and Angelique took a little step back. Without her heels he towered over her and she had to crick her neck to keep eye contact. His expression was mocking as he looked down at her. ‘And just how many houses have you run, ma chérie?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘I’m just saying...’

  He held her gaze for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking about something. She could see his mouth shifting from side to side in a contemplative manner. ‘Can you cook?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been to cookery schools in France, Italy and Thailand. Why?’

  ‘Would you cook a dinner for me?’

  Angelique frowned. ‘What, you mean every day, like in a traditional marriage?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. I want to entertain Robert Mappleton—you know, the guy I’ve been trying to win over? He’s ultra-conservative and traditional. He’s been wined and dined thousands of times in the best restaurants across the globe. What I think would really impress him is a home-cooked dinner in a private setting. Will you do it?’

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. The sooner she helped Remy nail his deal, the sooner they could go their separate ways. That certainly wasn’t half as attractive as it had been a day or so ago. She had her own contract to consider now. Would the top-end designers currently courting her still want her if she was divorced?

  Probably not.

  ‘Which private setting did you have in mind?’

  ‘Tarrantloch.’

  Angelique glared at him. ‘You insensitive bastard!’

  ‘What?’

  She narrowed her gaze to slits. ‘You really are the most unfeeling jerk I’ve ever come across. How much more do you want to rub my nose in it? You stole my house and now you want me to play the 1950s housewife in it? Arrggh!’

  ‘I guess that’s a no?’

  Angelique glowered at him. ‘You’re damn right it’s a no. How could you be so cruel?’

  ‘I was actually thinking of you,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be more comfortable cooking in a familiar kitchen.’

  ‘I’d be more comfortable if the deeds to my home were back in my hands where they belong.’

  He gave her a dry look. ‘Then perhaps you need to work on charming me into changing my mind, ma petite, hmm?’

  Angelique felt a traitorous spurt of longing assail her. How did he do that to her with just one look? Those dark eyes smouldered and she was instantly aflame. How was she going to resist him when all she wanted was to be back in his arms?

  But she wasn’t going to let him know that.

  She narrowed her eyes even further. ‘Are you blackmailing me?’

  ‘I prefer to call it negotiating.’

  ‘Negotiating my foot! You want me to sleep with you. Why don’t you come right out and say it?’

  His eyes scorched hers. ‘I want to sleep with you.’

  Angelique’s inner core contracted. Her breasts tingled. Her heart skipped and then raced. She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry mouth. She saw the raw, naked lust in his dark eyes. She felt it in the crackling air she was trying to drag into her lungs. She felt it in the firm grip of his steely hands as they captured her by the hips and pulled her against him.

  Heat against heat.

  His mouth came down, hovering just above hers. ‘This is what I want.’ He toyed with her lips in a tantalising little tug-and-release game that made her spine turn to liquid.

  I want it too. So, so much!

  ‘And this...’ He stroked the seam of her mouth with his tongue, teasing the sensitive flesh, taking possession as soon as she opened to him.

  She tried to smother a whimper but her bones were melting like an ice sculpture in the Dharbiri desert sun as he explored every corner in intimate detail. One of his hands went to the small of her back, pushing her closer to his hot, hard heat, the other deftly untying the ties of her wrap and unpeeling it from her body.

  He pushed aside the satin straps of her nightgown and it slipped off her body and pooled at her feet. His hand cupped her breast, her nipple brushing against his palm, making her senses hum with delight. Need unfurled in her body, stretching like a sun-warmed cat, reaching into all of her limbs, making them soft and pliant as he crushed her to him.

  Angelique tugged his shirt out of his trousers and blindly undid the buttons as her mouth fed off his. She unhitched his belt, undid his waistband, rolled down his zipper and then boldly took possession of him. He groaned into her mouth as he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers.

  They stumbled back towards the bed, knocking one of the table lamps over in the process. He came down over her, his thighs trapping hers, his mouth still working its heady magic on hers.

  Angelique arched her back as he left her mouth to concentrate on her breasts. The feel of his tongue and teeth on her flesh was a blissful torture. She writhed and gasped and clutched at his head.

  He didn’t stop at her breasts. He went lower to the cave of her belly button, dipping in and out with his moist tongue, laving her flesh, trailing even lower.

  She automatically tensed. This was so personal. So very intimate.

  He calmed her with a gentle hand on her thigh. ‘Not comfortable with this?’

  Angelique felt a blush crawl into her cheeks. He thought she was so hip and worldly but this was the one thing she had never felt comfortable sharing with any partner. It was all very well, pretending to have an orgasm when someone was rocking and humping above her, but this was something else. ‘Um...’

  ‘It’s fine, ma petite. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.’

  Was it the fact he had given her the freedom to say no that made her now want to say yes? She slowly met his dark gaze. ‘I’ve never done this with a partner...’

  Something moved in his eyes. A flicker of surprise? Delight? ‘Do you trust me to make it good for you?’

  Angelique suddenly realised she did. Hadn’t he already shown her what her body was capable of in terms of pleasure? She had never experienced anything like the supremely passionate response she had felt in his arms with anyone else. She wanted to experience this with him; this incredible intimacy would leave her with something precious and unique to remember when their marriage was over. ‘Yes...’

  He gently caressed her thighs, waiting until she was open and relaxed before he traced her folds with his tongue. All of her nerves writhed and danced, twirled and fretted for more. He did it again, separating her this time, tasting her, briefly touching her clitoris to give it time to get accustomed to the sensation. He slowly built the movements of his tongue against her swollen flesh, making her shiver all over as tiny ripples began to course through her. He was patient and gentle. Experimental. Gauging her response, learning her body’s secrets and indulging her senses until she was suspended on a precipice, hovering, wanting, aching, but not quite able to take that final plunge.

  ‘Come for me, ma petite,’ he coaxed her softly. ‘Don’t hold back.’

  ‘I want to but I can’t.’

  ‘Yes you can.’ He stroked her tensed up thighs until they released. ‘You can do it. Just stop thinking and let go.’

  Angelique fe
lt the flickering of his tongue against her and a wave of pleasure came rolling up from deep inside her. She felt every muscle in her body tighten before the final lift off. She went careening into oblivion, shuddering and shaking as the tide of release passed through her like a powerful relaxant.

  Remy came back over her and pushed her wild hair back off her face. ‘Average?’

  Angelique couldn’t stop a coy smile. ‘How do I know, since I don’t have anything to compare it to?’

  His gave her one of his smouldering looks. ‘I can soon fix that.’

  ‘Wait.’ She put a hand on his chest, her gaze sultry. ‘There’s something I have to see to first.’

  He drew in an audible breath as her hand moved down his body. But she wasn’t content with just stroking and caressing him. She wanted to taste him as he had tasted her. This was another act she had shied away from in the past, but right now it seemed perfectly natural to pleasure him with her lips and tongue.

  She pressed a pathway of kisses down his chest, swirling her tongue into his belly button before going inexorably lower. She felt his abdominal muscles contract the closer she got to her target. She breathed over his erection at first, letting him feel the dance of her breath, letting him experience the anticipation of her imminent possession.

  ‘I usually put a condom on at this point.’ His voice sounded rough. Gravelly.

  Angelique gave him a seductive look from beneath her lashes. ‘There isn’t time.’

  ‘But I— Oh God.’ He sucked in another breath as she set to work on him.

  It was thrilling to have him so in her power. She had never realised how arousing it was to feel him and hear him struggle for control. She was ruthless as she drew on him, not giving him a chance to pull away. She tasted the hot essence of him against her tongue, felt the tension in him against her lips as she moved them up and down his shaft.

  He grabbed at her head with both of his hands, presumably to push her away, but she refused to budge. She hummed against his swollen flesh and he gave a quickly muttered curse and then spilled.