A Shocking Proposal in Sicily

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A Shocking Proposal in Sicily Page 3

by Rachael Thomas


  ‘Just first names,’ she said quickly, watching his brows raise before a smile of conspiracy slid slowly over his lips. Sinfully sexy didn’t come anywhere near it.

  ‘As you wish.’ He lifted his glass of champagne to her, his eyes darkening with wild desire, making her head spin more than the champagne she wasn’t really used to. ‘Rafe.’

  ‘Ana,’ she said quickly, unable to quell the shimmer of excitement rushing through her.

  The feeling was so powerful she drank the remainder of her champagne in one go, not missing his amusement, which set off sparks in his eyes as well as inside her. He pulled the bottle of champagne from the cooler, ice rattling as it was disturbed and, without a word, replenished her glass.

  When he looked at her again his expression was speculative, but thankfully he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask further questions. Instead he replaced the bottle in the ice with the kind of familiarity that made her think he must be a waiter. Maybe he worked here? Maybe he’d just finished for the night?

  ‘Are you a waiter here?’ she asked as he took a sip of his champagne.

  His eyes widened and for a moment she thought the champagne he’d sipped would be fired all over her. She’d clearly shocked him. Offended him even. She’d been so taken in by him she hadn’t paid that much attention to his clothes—just him. But now she looked more closely, she could see his shirt wasn’t just any shirt. It was quality, fitting him to perfection, and had probably been made for him.

  ‘No. I am a guest. As are you, I presume.’

  ‘I am,’ she said with renewed determination. She knew that whatever happened next—and the fact that something would was as certain as the full moon which would rise over London—she wanted this night.

  She was a woman with needs. A woman with desires. A woman this man had set alight with one sexy smile.

  She was more than entitled to this one night. She’d lost the love of her life and soon she would be forced into a marriage she didn’t want. This moment was hers. And she intended to take it. All of it.

  ‘Then I am honoured to be able to share this evening with you.’ He glanced at her, pouring himself another glass of champagne. She watched, mesmerised by his olive hands, long regal fingers, wrapping around the bottle so eloquently.

  What would it feel like to have those hands touch her? To have those fingers bring pleasure to her body?

  He looked directly at her, a mysterious intensity in his eyes as they slowly travelled down her body, lingering on her breasts, the soft silk of her pale gold blouse offering no protection against the heat of his eyes. His attention lowered, down over the skirt of the same silk, fitting snugly to her hips. Then finally, when Kaliana thought she couldn’t take it any more, his attention shifted to her high-heeled sandals and red painted toenails.

  She shivered with pleasure. Anticipation.

  He hadn’t touched her, but he’d just undressed her. Right here. In the bar of an exclusive hotel. She felt totally and gloriously naked even though the cool silk against her skin told her otherwise.

  Did he know her thoughts? Did he know how he made her feel? Did he know what she wanted? Right now.

  ‘I think all night would be better.’ Emboldened by the heat of her body, she pushed aside embarrassment. Pushed aside the last remnants of her reservations and made her intentions, her needs, clear. Before she married to save her family from the shame of financial ruin, she wanted to know the pleasure of being desired by a man. The pleasure of desiring this man.

  His brows flicked up in surprise but instantly he schooled his chiselled features, the cool charm of moments ago back in play. ‘You wish to spend the entire night in my company?’

  No man had ever come close to making her feel the kind of desire Alif had made her feel. If only she hadn’t been so insistent on going to her marriage bed a virgin, she would have known what it was to desire and be desired before he’d been tragically taken from her. Regret rushed through her.

  No other man had ever made her feel that way.

  Until she’d seen this man. Within seconds of her eyes meeting his she’d known she wanted him. Known he was the only man who could cleanse her body of its innocence.

  She wasn’t about to allow this moment, this feeling, this need, to slip away again. She wanted this night. Wanted this man. ‘I do.’ She held his gaze, challenging him to pull back, to call a halt to the dangerous game of passion she was on the brink of playing. ‘I want to be with you all night.’

  Kaliana wanted to indulge in the game, dangerous or not. What better way to forget about the future and move on from the past than in this man’s arms?

  His gaze narrowed. Was he thinking of a wife he’d left at home? Children even? ‘You are playing a dangerous game, Ana.’

  The silky softness of his voice was like a caress. It soothed. It excited. If his voice could do that, what would his kiss be like?

  Her gaze flew to his lips; instantly a slow and very sexy smile spread over them.

  ‘A game I want to play.’ She looked up at him from lowered lashes, flirting coming surprisingly naturally to her. ‘But if you don’t want to. Or can’t...’ She allowed the words to trail off, seductively moving closer to him in a way she’d never, ever imagined herself doing. But tonight she wasn’t herself. She looked boldly up at him. ‘I will go.’

  Instantly he put one arm around her waist, slowly but very purposefully drawing her closer. All the while his eyes remained fixed on hers. She moved willingly towards him, her body alive with a sensation she’d never experienced before. The pressure of his hand, his arm holding her, burning her skin.

  ‘We will play the game your way.’ His eyes darkened as he drew her a fraction closer, the narrowing gap between their bodies alive with sparks. ‘For now.’

  ‘Good.’ She smiled up at him, feeling out of her depth and very much in control all at the same time. She moved closer still, inhaling the exotic scent of his cologne, the tang of citrus blending with cedarwood pushing her on, taking her higher. This was exactly the game she wanted to play.

  Tonight, she wasn’t Princess Kaliana of Ardu Safra. Tonight, she was simply Ana and it felt right. Tonight, she wanted this man. He was exactly what she needed. What she wanted. And she wanted him all night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  RAFE WATCHED ANA’S eyes darken. Desire thundered through him. Harder. Faster. Like the call of a war drum of old. He was losing the mask of the composed businessman who’d a short while ago been drinking whisky alone. Hell, he was losing himself. And he hadn’t even kissed her.

  Yet.

  With this woman’s body pressed so alluringly against his, he knew he was in danger of completely losing his grasp on reality. Losing everything. His whole body ached for her and the satisfaction he knew only she could give. He’d never been so hard. So ready.

  She moved closer, her smoky eyes filling with need, exploding with desire. Shimmying her hips provocatively, pressing against his erection. And he thought he’d never been so hard.

  He tightened his hold on her, keeping her delicious body against him. ‘See what you do to me?’ He barely recognised the coarse rasp of his voice.

  She smiled. Moved her hips again, forcing him to bite down hard on the growl of desire threatening to rip from him.

  ‘I feel,’ she purred. Damn, but she was a merciless tease. ‘But I don’t see.’

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to taste her. Had to feel her lips beneath his. Feel the passion that burnt in her eyes, taste it on her tongue as it danced with his.

  But if he gave into that need here?

  It wasn’t worth imagining. Or was it? Erotic images swept through his mind, faster than lightning. Their bodies entwined in the erotic dance of desire.

  Rafe inhaled deeply as she pressed her body even harder against his. Making those images so hot they became X-rated.

&nbs
p; ‘I think we should retire to my suite.’ His voice was hoarse and ragged with desire. He hadn’t known anything like it. Ever. It was like a wild fire bearing down on him at an alarming pace, offering no escape. Not that he wanted any escape.

  There was a slight pause as she looked up at him. A hint of uncertainty and hesitation. The fire cooled briefly, stilled, as if waiting to see which way the wind would take it. As he watched her, she looked innocent. Vulnerable. Then it was gone. The sex siren, the seductress, was back in play and the fire raged on relentlessly.

  ‘And I was enjoying this moment.’ She raised her brows, looking up at him, bringing her lips tantalisingly close to his. ‘I was enjoying my power over you.’

  ‘If you carry on with this power game, I am going to have to kiss you. Right here. Right now.’ His voice was more of a feral growl, the like of which he’d never heard before. How could one woman, a woman he’d only just met, have such an effect on him?

  ‘Then kiss me. Right here and right now.’ Her bold and brazen reply excited him further. There would be no backing out now. This would be taken to the inevitable conclusion—in the privacy of his suite.

  She moved closer still, her breath feathering his lips. ‘Kiss me.’

  Hell, he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to taste her. She moved her lips closer, a spark of sexy mischief in her eyes. He placed his champagne glass on the bar, not taking his eyes from hers, and spread his palm over her shoulder blades, at the same time crushing her lips beneath his.

  She gasped into his mouth, her eyes wide, and again that aura of innocence briefly shone through. A woman playing with fire. The fire of desire. Desire he could no longer control. She closed her eyes, long lashes sweeping down over her cheeks as she began to kiss him back. As hard and demanding as his kiss, sweeping away any doubts.

  This woman was far from innocent. This was a woman in control of her sexuality. A woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And right now he was in no doubt. She wanted him.

  Her tongue entwined with his and her arms wound round his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair, long nails scratching his scalp. He delved his tongue deeper into her mouth, tasting champagne. Tasting her.

  He had to get them out of here. He was in danger of ripping her sexy tight blouse and skirt from her body right here in the bar.

  He lifted his lips away from hers reluctantly, dragging in a deep breath of sanity.

  ‘Your suite,’ she whispered, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Already she looked deliciously tousled.

  Lust pounded through him. He barely had any control left. Virtually no restraint. His need for this woman, this moment, was so intense. He wanted to revel in her power. Be tamed by her. It either stopped here and now or...

  ‘This is what you want?’ He tried to steady his voice, needing to calm the heated desire thundering through him like a sudden eruption from Mount Etna. Despite this desire, despite the way her body begged him for more than just a kiss, he needed to hear her say it.

  * * *

  Did he really have to ask?

  ‘It is,’ Kaliana said softly, her voice husky, her breathing rapid and uneven. He was giving her the chance to back out, proving he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Giving her the power. Power which made her feel alive.

  She brushed her lips over his lightly, wanting to kiss away the control he’d suddenly found. She wanted him at her mercy. Her at his. She breathed against his lips, driven by a need too powerful to resist. ‘It is. Take me to your suite.’

  He held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes, as if satisfying himself she spoke the truth and for a moment she wondered if he knew. If he’d guessed she was a virgin. As if he’d guessed her act of bold bravado was exactly that. Was this man of undeniable experience about to turn her down? Leaving her aching for him, for satisfaction? Leaving her not knowing what it would be like to be sexually fulfilled?

  She wanted this night of pleasure, this night of unknown desires. She needed it. To prove she was alive. Locked within her was the woman Alif had gently coaxed into the first flush of womanhood with his love.

  She held her breath.

  Pain rushed through her at the thought of Alif and the love they’d shared. The passion they should have known together. Was it wrong she felt such desire with another man?

  She looked up at Rafe, felt the pull of attraction, the spark of desire, the heat of passion. It wasn’t wrong. Something this powerful couldn’t be. Unexpected, but not wrong.

  ‘I want you,’ she whispered, drawing again on the elation of being free to indulge in this desire. Free to be a woman who knew what she wanted and took it.

  And she wanted this night and this man. Nobody except Rafe could stop it now. Tonight, she would finally bloom into the woman she could be.

  ‘And I want you.’ His accent suddenly deepened, the intensity in those dark eyes mirroring every need and emotion inside her.

  ‘I want you to make love to me.’ Her breath was ragged, her words slipping out, firm and decisive. Elation at her freedom, her power of abandonment to be exactly what she wanted, rose ever higher. She wanted to feel his kisses all over her body. His strong hands caressing her, pleasuring her in ways she could only imagine. For too long she’d locked herself behind a barrier of grief, but she couldn’t do it any more. Not if she had to give up on everything she’d ever dared to hope for and sacrifice her secret dreams of one day finding the kind of love she’d shared with Alif. If love a second time even existed. ‘I want you to make love to me. Tonight.’

  ‘Tonight?’ The hoarseness of his voice left her in no doubt he was fighting a losing battle as much as she was.

  ‘Tonight,’ she teased. ‘All night.’

  He inhaled deeply, his eyes piercing into hers. Taking her hand, he silently led her through the serene calmness of the hotel bar, some guests casting them curious but knowing glances.

  Together they stepped into the lift. The air crackled with tension. Neither moved. Towards each other or away. The only contact was her hand in his. Silence enveloped them as the lift moved swiftly upwards. She didn’t dare look at him. Something wild was about to explode between them and if they even so much as looked at one another it would happen before they reached the privacy of his suite.

  She drew in a deep breath, his scent stirring her desire ever higher, and she willed the lift to stop. Willed the doors to open. Beside her, he was rigid, his body motionless with control as he stared straight ahead. She didn’t need to look at him to know it. She sensed it. Sensed the power of his control.

  At last the lift doors swished almost silently open, directly into his suite, so vast she was sure it must occupy the entire floor. So, he was immensely wealthy. Not the waiter she’d mistaken him to be.

  She smiled at the memory of his reaction to her question as she walked into the suite, past the sprawling pale grey sofa, covered with cushions. Past the vast desk where papers and a closed laptop confirmed he was a businessman. Towards the wall of windows which looked out over London, now twinkling with many lights, competing with the moon.

  She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Here, tonight, she could be a different woman than the one who’d handed over her future to the family duty she’d always secretly hoped to be free of, wishing instead for love and happiness. Here, tonight, none of that mattered.

  Awareness prickled over her skin as he came to stand behind her, his hands gently holding her upper arms, subtly caressing them, pulling her slowly closer to him.

  She looked at the window, their reflection, just as erotic as it had been in the bar. She watched him lower his head to kiss her neck, anticipating his lips on her skin seconds before it happened. She closed her eyes to the pleasure, her pulse racing wildly.

  She sighed softly as his lips trailed over her skin, burning it. Setting her alight. But it wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough.

  Kal
iana angled her head, inviting more, needing more. She leant her head back against him as he drew her closer. Rafe’s fingertips joined the torture his lips were inflicting on her skin. She shuddered with pleasure as the warmth of his fingers traced downwards, inside her blouse. Inside her bra.

  She pressed her eyes tightly shut, desire wildly uncoiling deep inside her. Deep in the hidden femininity she’d locked away after losing Alif.

  Rafe murmured against her neck, his fingers grazing over her increasingly hard nipples. It was exquisite. She trembled with need as he continued his torture, heated desire burning between her legs. She sighed softly as she turned her head to face him. He moved closer, the torture on her nipple continuing as he slicked his tongue over her lips. He moved slowly back and she licked her lips, tasting champagne and whisky along with something stronger. Desire.

  He slid his hand away from her breast, trailing a blaze of heat up her neck. Every part of her was on high alert. Every part of her wanted him. Needed him.

  She turned in his arms, clutched at his shirt and pulled, wanting to feel his body, needing to see it. Buttons popped to the floor as she dragged the shirt out from his black trousers, pushing it aside, pressing her lips to his bare chest. Tasting him. Inhaling his powerful masculinity.

  She had no idea where the wanton woman she’d become had come from, but he tasted so good. His skin felt delicious on her tongue. He held the tops of her arms tightly as he spoke in another language and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was Italian. Then the carnal heat of desire took over, consuming her as it exploded into life.

  ‘See what you do to me.’ He spoke English with a harsh whisper. Had she imagined his words in Italian?

  ‘No,’ she said, spreading her palms on his chest. Pushing them through the silky soft hair that covered his well-defined chest muscles, smiling at the game she was playing once more with him. ‘No, I don’t see. Not at all.’

 

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