All week he’d played the role he’d dictated. Courted the press. Showed off their romance. And it had worked. His father and even Enzo were on board with his choice of wife and mother of the heir they all needed.
He and Kaliana had crossed the first hurdle—gained family acceptance on both sides and created a buzz about their relationship. The next step was to get to know one another better. Which was why he’d brought her here. To the peace and quiet of the place that meant the most to him.
It was the one piece of land belonging to the Casella family which he needed to keep. The reason he’d bowed to pressure from his father and agreed to marry. Pietra Bianca had to remain in Casella hands.
‘It’s a pretty place,’ she said, opening her door, stepping out, giving him a view of her long, lean denim-clad legs, which had wrapped around him so perfectly. Rafe refused to remember. Refused to be drawn by the desire she obviously could still evoke.
He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Kaliana when she’d stepped out of her house that morning in jeans which hugged her hips to perfection and a navy loose-fitting blouse which she wore deliciously low, reminding him, if he’d needed it, just how perfect her breasts were. Dio mio, she still looked as sexy as hell. Still as hard to resist.
‘There is a special place I would like you to see, and I thought a picnic in the olive groves would be the perfect spot to talk.’ He paused and looked at the woman who was to be his bride. ‘In private, before we make our romance, our engagement, official.’
He’d had the idea of bringing Kaliana out here when he’d decided to visit the olive and lemon groves his mother had loved so much. He wasn’t sure why, but for some reason he needed Kaliana to see the place that was so special to him.
‘Are you trying to be romantic with me, Rafe Casella?’ Again that flirtatious and teasing voice lured him back towards desire, away from the pain of the past, away from the agony of losing his mother.
‘Romance is not something I usually indulge in,’ he said sternly, trying to control the rush of desire just being with her evoked. Too sternly if the look of shock on Kaliana’s pretty face was anything to go by. ‘I simply thought we could get to know one another better. It will make our love affair more convincing.’
‘What do you want to know?’ Caution sounded in her voice and he sensed her reservations.
‘Things that will convince anyone we are in love,’ he said, moving towards her, her eyes full of the same swirling desire he’d seen in the bar as she’d seduced him. Whatever it was between them, it was still vibrantly alive.
‘I need to know more than where you like to be kissed, Kaliana.’
He couldn’t help adding that taunt, his voice rising on the last few words, making it obvious he was teasing her again. He watched her eyes darkening, reminding him of when she’d looked at him in the bar just moments before she’d kissed him that first time.
That kick of lust threatened to unleash itself again and he stepped back, his feet crunching the gravel as he did so. Hell, if he didn’t control himself he’d want to make her his again. Right here and now.
‘Maybe I don’t like to be kissed,’ she said in a brisk but husky voice as she put much-needed distance between them by walking towards the olive trees. Towards the place that was so special to him—a place he’d never told any woman about, let alone shown, but Kaliana deserved to see it. After all, their marriage would keep it in the Casella family. Keep it for his children.
Rafe took the basket his housekeeper had prepared from the car and, with a carefree smile which didn’t match the way he felt, looked at Kaliana. ‘This way.’
At first she seemed uncertain, then she followed him, her flat shoes at least suitable for the gravel path which led towards the place he’d enjoyed so much before his world had been turned upside down by his mother’s death.
Slowly they walked down through the gnarled old olive trees; as a young boy he’d found interesting things buried in the dusty earth beneath them. As a man, in a desperate attempt to keep the land from being developed by his father, he had set about making such finds known. For now, Pietra Bianca was safe—but only if he married Kaliana. Only then could he keep the memories of his mother alive.
‘I’m surprised this hasn’t been developed into one of those luxury complexes the Casellas are so famous for,’ Kaliana said, looking about her as she walked at his side. She’d obviously done further research on him and his family since the charity event.
‘My business interests do not include developing places like this. I am not of the same mind as my father or, indeed, my brother.’ Rafe’s tone was clipped and short as he recalled his father’s fury when he’d refused to agree to be part of the impressive Casella business after university. Instead he’d told his father he wanted to forge his own way, create his own empire. Something his mother had backed him on, but sadly she hadn’t lived to see it being fulfilled.
‘Renewable energy, isn’t it?’ Kaliana asked as they reached a small stone house. He stopped, looking at her. She smiled, her eyes alive with triumph. ‘You didn’t think I’d marry you without learning something more about you, did you?’
‘I assume that was to ensure I was wealthy enough in my own right to enable you to solve your country’s financial problems.’ The truth and reality of why he was even standing here with her now hit home. It was all about money for her and, for him, possessions.
‘If you are so annoyed with that, why did you agree to marry me?’ Annoyance sparked in each word, like flint on a stone.
‘I have no other option. Like you, I am bound by family tradition. Honour.’ He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. Enzo’s misfortune had become his too. ‘Your deal was the solution to my problem. As you so rightly said, we both stand to gain from the arrangement.’
‘Duty is what drives us both, Rafe. Duty and honour.’ Anger simmered in her sharp retort, stoking his own annoyance at the situation.
‘More so in your case. Your country is at stake.’ His words rushed out before he could filter them, strip them of the raw emotion just talking about this evoked. ‘You are a princess. I’m an ordinary man.’
She turned to look at him as he stated the obvious, her hair swinging as she did so, brushing her shoulders. Even now, in the depths of the real reason they were marrying, she tempted him.
‘I still feel there is another motive,’ she said carefully, watching him suspiciously as they stood in the shade of the stone house. ‘Another reason for agreeing to my deal.’
He drove his fingers into his hair, dragging his hand back over his scalp. She was right, and if he wanted to learn more about her, then didn’t he need to give away details of his personal history?
‘In my grandfather’s time the Casella name nearly ended.’ How could he explain all the complications of his family? ‘My father is terminally ill and will not rest until he knows I am married and a father—to a son. He even insisted I undertook fertility tests to ensure Enzo’s fate wasn’t also mine. Not for me, but for the Casella name.’
‘He made you do that?’ The angry tension slipped back a notch, leaving him more relaxed. More open to such a discussion. To sharing secrets.
‘Yes.’ Just thinking how much his life had altered in the last few months brought anger rushing back to the surface.
Rafe could still feel the shock as his father had told him of Enzo’s predicament—a problem that radiated far further than just Enzo and Emma’s marriage. Rafe had been too blinded by the pain he knew Emma would be feeling to even worry what sort of implications the revelation had on him. On his life. His future.
A future which he should have shared with Emma. He would have, if Enzo hadn’t competed for her so determinedly, taking away the only woman Rafe had loved. He’d stood back as they had married. Allowed his love for her to wilt and die and now, as their marriage threatened to fall apart, all he could feel was sy
mpathy for Emma, who’d wanted children so much. After all, when they had been together, even for that short time, she’d made it clear that being a mother was something she really wanted.
It wasn’t until their father had all but demanded Rafe have a fertility test to ensure that at least one of the twins would be able to father the next Casella generation that Rafe realised the implications for him.
‘That’s terrible.’ Kaliana finally found a voice, pressing her fingertips to her lips and right there, at that moment, he wished he was kissing her, tasting her lips, instead of having this conversation. It was safer.
‘Naturally, my father was more concerned about the continuation of the Casella name than Enzo’s floundering marriage, or even the fact that Enzo had married the woman I once loved. So you can rest assured that our marriage will produce the children that both our families expect of us.’
Kaliana’s eyes had widened, filling with disbelief at Rafe’s confession of his father’s actions. Not that it mattered now. His father was mercenary, and love meant nothing to him. Why else would he have made his own wife’s life so unhappy? Even as she’d been seriously ill, Rafe’s mother had tried to defend the man she loved. Tried to convince Rafe it was just his father’s way. That, deep down, he loved her and his twins. Both of them—equally.
No, Rafe would never believe that.
‘You don’t want children, do you? Given the choice, that is.’ The words were a whisper. A shocked whisper.
He couldn’t lie to her. But he couldn’t tell her how he feared being the same as his father had been to him. Cold and indifferent. ‘No, given the choice, I don’t. I don’t want to be married either but, like you, having lost someone I loved, I’m doing so.’
‘At least I know where I stand.’ Kaliana’s voice struggled beneath the heaviness of his honesty. Had he done the right thing being so brutal? So honest? Yes. He couldn’t allow her to form any attachment to him. Not when he was so unworthy of love. When every person he’d ever loved had rejected him—or worse.
‘This marriage, our marriage, is one we are making because of duty to our families. Not a marriage made with the promise of love and happy ever after. It is a marriage for financial gain—for both of us.’ He forced home his point, reminding her of the real reason they were doing this. Reminding himself.
If he pushed her too hard, might she walk away? Might she free him of this deal, his duty? Was that why he was being so mercenary? So like his damn father? Because, deep down, he wanted to be free?
‘You sound very bitter about love, Rafe, and happy-ever-afters. What happened?’ Kaliana walked slowly towards him, her hands clasping her arms, hugging herself, as if she too felt the change in the atmosphere around them.
‘I’m just being practical. And honest.’ Rafe needed to redirect the conversation. In such a short time she had dug deep into his soul, opening old wounds, the kind of wounds he’d refused to deal with any more.
She shook her head in silent agreement, one hand rubbing the top of her arm in a gesture of comfort he so wished he could give her. But right now the past had been painfully exhumed and spread out before him and all he wanted to do was run from it.
‘As practical as your father was when he insisted you have that test?’ In one sharp sentence she’d ploughed deep into his insecurities. Passing that test had been the one thing he’d done right as far as his father was concerned.
‘Sì,’ he said, distracted by memories. ‘And what of your father? Is he happy with the marriage deal you have brokered? Will he be happy when he meets me?’ He took it back to basics. Away from anything resembling emotion, even though he knew from his own father that Kaliana’s was more than happy.
‘Very much so.’ She lifted her chin a little, the sunlight dancing in her hair. ‘Wedding preparations are already underway.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Your father is not opposed to our marriage, I take it? Even though I am not Sicilian?’
‘He too is happy,’ Rafe said, recalling the conversation he’d had with his father about the marriage deal. His reaction to his son marrying a princess had been nothing short of overjoyed. Not only would the Casella name continue, but it would do so with royal blood in its veins. Rafe had excelled himself. Earnt his respect. ‘You will see that for yourself very soon. All we need to do is continue with the pretence of a whirlwind romance.’
She nodded, walking slowly away from him, pretending to look around her, pretending none of this bothered her. ‘I guess it is.’ She turned, smiling. ‘Did you say something about a picnic earlier?’ Her voice was so light and carefree it was hard to believe they’d just been discussing something so difficult for both of them.
He smiled, enjoying her sensitivity. Marriage to Kaliana wasn’t going to be a hardship, but then it wasn’t the marriage he’d once envisaged as a young man. When he’d fallen in love for the first time.
‘I did and I know just the spot.’ He took her hand, forcing his smile to brighten. ‘This way.’
* * *
Kaliana’s mind filled with worry and she struggled to disguise it. The fact that Rafe needed her as his wife should have made her feel less anxious, less worried he might back out. But she could sense his hesitation, his reluctance. This was a man who went out of his way to avoid emotional commitment His admission of losing the woman he’d loved to his brother had proved that.
Maybe that was the best way. She’d had her chance at real romance, real love and happy ever after. A marriage based on sexual chemistry, one which solved the issues her country faced, was safer emotionally.
‘This is where I used to picnic with my mother,’ Rafe said as they reached a gentle downward slope dotted with ancient gnarled olive trees. A low stone wall, old and crumbling, stood in the middle of the small clearing, the afternoon sun streaming between the leaves creating a totally magical scene.
The beauty of the spot was overshadowed by his words. This was the first time Rafe had mentioned his mother and she wasn’t going to allow the chance to pass, knowing from her recent research on him that he’d lost his mother when he was in his late teens. ‘Do you miss her?’
‘I was seventeen when she died. Almost a man, but still too young to lose a mother. I hope my child never has to experience such pain, such loss.’ It was as if he’d forgotten himself. As if she wasn’t there. Or at least not Kaliana, his bride-to-be.
‘It must have been awful,’ she said, instinctively reaching out to touch his arm.
Rafe looked at her, but she knew he was lost in the heartache of all he’d endured. ‘Nothing was as bad as losing my mother, not even being the second-best son in my father’s eyes.’
He paused, caught between the past and the present. He slipped backwards. ‘My mother suddenly became very ill and when she died I lost my ally in life.’ From the look on his face, she guessed this wasn’t something he talked much about, was something he guarded well.
‘Your father must have been beside himself.’
‘My father never showed emotion. I don’t know what he felt, but after my mother’s death he became even harder to please.’ His eyes became dark and thunderous. ‘The only thing I ever did right since that day was pass that damned fertility test.’
Kaliana didn’t know what to say, instinctively reaching out to touch his arm. He looked down at her hand on his shirt sleeve then up to her face. ‘Oh, Rafe.’ Her heart ached for the teenager who’d lost his mother so tragically. ‘You did your best.’
‘But it wasn’t enough.’ He shook his head, pressing his lips together as he reined in the anger sparking in his eyes. ‘That’s when I knew I didn’t want to be a father.’
‘But now? You need a child, an heir. We both do.’ The words slipped from her lips so fast she couldn’t check them, couldn’t keep the thought to herself.
Rafe looked at her and for a moment, in the dappled light of the olive groves, he looked like the man she’d m
et in London. But then the sun slipped behind a cloud and the moment was gone. Now he was Raffaele Casella. The man who’d calmly agreed to her deal for a marriage of convenience.
‘I know my duty, Kaliana. I can assure you our child will want for nothing.’
‘What about love?’ She could manage without love in her life, but she wanted her child to be loved—by both parents. If he couldn’t do that, it was almost a deal-breaker. Almost because she had little choice now. The wheels of their deal had been put in motion. Time was running out. ‘Can you love your children?’
Rafe’s eyes narrowed in that way he did when he didn’t believe her, didn’t trust her. ‘Love is the one thing I can no longer give. Not to anyone.’
The starkness of that statement, the total indifference in it, set off alarms in her mind, made questions race.
‘Children?’ Rafe spoke again before she could form her response to his declaration. ‘You want more than one?’
Kaliana looked at Rafe, insecurities from her own childhood surfacing. She should have been a son, the one thing her mother had never truly got over. Her father’s adoration for her hadn’t been enough to ease her mother’s worry that no further babies blessed their marriage. ‘Yes, Rafe, children. I am a princess. An only child. I need to have children. My country needs heirs.’
‘Hell, Kaliana, if that doesn’t make us sound like pawns in their games, I don’t know what does.’ His angry outburst shocked her. Shocked him too. He looked at her as he sat on the picnic blanket, the innocence of the setting making the context of their conversation even more powerful. Even more scary.
‘Our first child may be a boy,’ she said flatly, trying to remember this was a deal. Not a real marriage. They were not like a normal couple talking through how many children they wanted. They would never be a normal couple. ‘An heir to continue the Casella name and an heir for Ardu Safra.’
A Shocking Proposal in Sicily Page 8