A Shocking Proposal in Sicily

by Rachael Thomas

  ‘Something like that,’ she said softly, the warm breeze feeling like a caress on her face, reminding her of Rafe’s touch. How it felt. How it made her dare to hope. ‘It’s hard to believe this is really going to happen. That we are going to be married.’

  He walked towards her, coming out of the shadows, and she could see the concern on his handsome face. Feel it with every nerve in her body. It made her breath hitch, her heart race. It was as if he cared. Really cared. Like a lover would.

  ‘It is what you want?’ Rafe touched her arms, gently turning her to face him, the concern in his expression so clear, despite his face still being partially shrouded in darkness.

  ‘It’s what I have to do, Rafe.’ She spoke softly, reservations coursing through her. Regret even. ‘Marriage is what I have to do. If not to you, then to Nassif.’

  A look of regret crossed Rafe’s face that even the darkness of the terrace couldn’t hide. Was he wishing he hadn’t agreed to their marriage deal?

  ‘You are doing a very honourable thing.’ Rafe reached out, brushing her hair from her face. ‘Giving up your chance of happiness and love for the sake of your country, your people.’

  ‘It is expected of me, Rafe.’ A horrendous thought rushed through her mind. What was he trying to tell her? ‘You are having second thoughts, aren’t you? You don’t want this any more?’

  All sorts of scenarios assailed her. Her father’s disappointment. The shame she would bring to her family—to the country—if she didn’t marry. Because how could she if she carried Rafe’s child? The people of Ardu Safra would be forced to live under strict austerity if the country financially collapsed. Or, worse, if her father was forced to step down, unable to solve the issues he’d kept hidden from her for the last five years. What would happen to the country then? To her people? Her family?

  It was unthinkable. As unthinkable as the possibility that she might be pregnant. Because if Rafe was having second thoughts...

  ‘No, I am not having second thoughts.’ His soft words dragged her back from the fearful thoughts. ‘Like you, this is something I have to do. Marriage is my duty.’

  His answer hurt, his honesty cutting to the core. But what would she have done if he’d said something else? If he’d told her he wanted to marry her because he loved and wanted her? It was unsettling to even think of acknowledging this was what she’d secretly hoped for.

  ‘It’s always been that way, Rafe.’ She couldn’t allow him to derail her now. This marriage had to go ahead. For her country’s sake—and for hers. Even if she wasn’t pregnant, she could not, would not, marry Nassif. ‘And once all the requirements of the marriage have been met, we can go our separate ways, live our own lives.’

  He smiled at her. Like a lover might. Like he’d done in London that first night and all those nights in Rome. ‘It will take some time to meet all the requirements, no?’

  She pressed her eyes closed, hoping he couldn’t see her face in the dark. Hoping he wouldn’t notice her despair.

  ‘Is it so bad, cara?’ He spoke softly, gently lifting her chin, giving her little choice but to look up at him. She opened her eyes. Saw that all too familiar desire in his. ‘When we have something so good?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered, feeling herself drawn to him, being lured closer, like a bee to a newly opened flower. She wanted him. Wanted him to want her. ‘No, it isn’t.’

  He pressed his lips to her forehead and, closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, trembling with need. And something more. Something far more dangerous to her heart.

  ‘Rafe...’ she whispered. Unable to understand the emotion filling her right now. One she couldn’t bear to name.

  She opened her eyes, pulling back to look up at him. Desire filled his eyes.

  ‘I don’t want to let you go tonight,’ he whispered, the soft evening breeze turning those words into a caress. Or was that her wishful thinking?

  ‘We have to be apart,’ she said, desperate to prevent her words becoming a husky whisper. ‘Here, and again when we are in Ardu Safra, before the marriage ceremony.’

  ‘Are you saying I cannot make love to you until our wedding night?’

  She smiled up at him, revelling in the knowledge that he wanted her. It gave hope. Stirred those emotions she couldn’t admit to. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘But you don’t want that, do you, cara mia?’ He was teasing her again.

  ‘No, I don’t.’ Boldly she made her claim, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘But it’s what we must do. We are marrying for tradition and we must uphold that tradition.’

  ‘That is Princess Kaliana talking,’ he said firmly, his eyes sparking with desire and laughter.

  ‘Kaliana will have to wait her turn.’ She laughed.

  ‘Then I will say goodnight.’ He gently drew her closer and Kaliana moved willingly against him, feeling every hard contour of his body. A body she knew and loved so much.

  ‘She will be back,’ she whispered against his lips, unable to help herself, as he lowered his head to kiss her. ‘But not until we are married.’

  The light teasing touch of his lips became hard. Demanding. Instantly her body was alight. Needing his. His hands splayed out across her back, keeping her body close against his, leaving her in no doubt as to how much he wanted her. His other palm skimmed down her side, his fingers brushing briefly against her breasts, making her sigh into his kiss.

  ‘Can she wait that long?’ he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers.

  Her body was pounding with need. Screaming with desire. She couldn’t give into either. If she did, she’d be opening the doors to the feelings she hadn’t wanted. Emotions she’d thought she’d never feel again. Emotions she knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—ever feel.

  ‘She can.’ She almost gasped out loud as he kissed her neck. Damn him, he already knew just where to kiss her. And how. ‘And she will.’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ he said as he stepped back from her, his breathing deep and as uncontrolled as hers.

  ‘Our deal has to come first, Rafe.’ She dragged the Princess to the fore. Hauling out all the reasons they were marrying as defence against the one thing she didn’t want to feel again.

  He nodded slowly, seeming back in control of himself. ‘You are right.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘Shall we retire to our very separate rooms?’

  Kaliana took his hand. Princess Kaliana would have flounced past him, but she couldn’t. He was offering her one tiny bit of romance, one small gesture of caring. And she, Kaliana, needed that almost as much as she needed him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAFE HAD ENDURED a restless night after he had escorted Kaliana to her room. He’d lain awake for hours, his body craving hers, but it was the expression on her face, the softness in her eyes hinting at so much more, which haunted him.

  As that softness, the same loving glow Emma had once had in her eyes for him, had burned brighter, he’d inwardly panicked. Was it possible that Kaliana felt something for him? That she could be falling in love with him? He didn’t want or deserve her love.

  The startling revelation had rocketed through him and he’d watched her slam down the shutters on her emotions. He’d seen the moment she stopped being Kaliana, the woman he’d met that first night in London, and become Princess Kaliana, the woman he was marrying. A marriage for duty and tradition. For both of them.

  Now, on the evening of their engagement party, he waited at the bottom of the grand staircase in Villa Casella. As of this evening they were officially engaged, their wedding just weeks away. For both of them, their lives would change once they were married.

  He waited, his heart thudding. Who would come and stand at the top of the stairs and look down at him? The woman he’d first met? The fiery passionate woman whose virginity he’d taken? Or the cool and aloof Princess, bound by duty to do what was necessary? He wanted�
�no, needed—the emotionless and practical Princess. He didn’t want to have to look into the eyes of the woman who’d strode into the bar that night in London. The night he’d been drowning his sorrows over the marriage he had been forced to make. The night she had been looking for something—someone—to take her mind off her problems.

  Above him a door clicked open, and then shut. He clenched his teeth, biting down hard. She had to be the Princess. If he saw any softness on her face, any hint of what he’d seen so briefly last night, he wouldn’t be able to go through with this at all. He looked upwards, the intricate wrought iron balustrades allowing him to see who was on the landing.

  Red silk of a long dress was all he could see at first as she moved to the top of the stairs. Rafe slowly lifted his eyes, looking up to the figure of the woman who’d ignited such passion in him he was in danger of forgetting himself. Forgetting what he needed to do.

  As he looked into her eyes, she remained still, looking down at him. He could feel those gold-flecked eyes of hers taking in every detail. Was she too fighting the urge to turn her back on her duty, her family?

  His gaze met hers. Showering over him like the first flurry of snow in winter. Soft, yet bitterly cold. The eyes of Princess Kaliana. She stood defiantly at the top of the stairs, dressed in the most stunning red strapless ball gown. She looked...amazing. Every inch the Princess that she was. The Princess he needed her to be.

  Behind him he heard gasps, then Franco’s soft chiding as he guided his wife away. ‘Let’s leave the lovers in peace.’

  Rafe smiled at his friend’s far from subtle comment. He and Kaliana might well be lovers, passionate lovers, but they were not in love.

  Or at least that was what he’d thought—until last night.

  Rafe moved to the bottom step, holding out his hands as Kaliana came down. Regal elegance shone from her like the brightest star.

  ‘So, this is it,’ she whispered to him. ‘The moment everything becomes official.’

  Rafe smiled. ‘Very official. Especially when you wear these.’

  He’d been holding the box containing the priceless Casella necklace, earrings and bracelet so tightly he almost couldn’t move his arm, couldn’t show her the box. His movement was far from fluid as he opened the box, holding it out to her.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting this.’ Her gorgeous eyes were wide with shock and beneath her polished exterior he’d glimpsed the Kaliana he really wanted. The Kaliana he couldn’t have. Didn’t deserve.

  ‘The Casella jewels.’ He forced the words out, pushing back those useless sentiments. ‘And as the next Casella bride you will be expected to wear them tonight.’

  Once he’d dreamt of giving them to Emma. Then she’d left him for Enzo. They had run away to marry in guilty secret, shunning that tradition.

  ‘I can’t wear these.’ She reached out to touch them, proving that, like most women, she could be won over by the sparkle of a diamond or two.

  ‘They are yours to wear today, our official engagement, and on our wedding day.’

  He could see the question in her eyes. Hear her asking if Enzo had given them to his bride too. ‘My mother was the last Casella bride to wear them. Enzo chose to marry in secret, so deprived his bride of that honour.’

  As the explanation surged forward, Rafe realised he was happy it had happened that way. And that at least Enzo had had the decency to be guilty about all he’d done, running away with the woman his twin brother loved. In a rush of something he’d never taken the time to consider before, Rafe realised that Enzo had taken Emma away and married her because he was ashamed of what he’d done to his own brother.

  ‘I see,’ she said, her voice stern. ‘In that case, can you...?’ She gestured to the box in his hand, the unfinished question hanging between them.

  He looked at her. At the bright gold flecks in her eyes now sparkling like angry fireworks. ‘Sì, cara, I can.’

  He turned, laying the box on the hall table, taking out the heavy diamond necklace. He opened the clasp and looked at her, his eyes holding her gaze. Deep in those gold-flecked depths he saw fear. As if she was sacrificing herself.

  Without a word she turned her back to him and waited. He allowed himself the guilty luxury of studying her naked shoulders before moving forward, encircling her body with his arms and the necklace, so that he could place it at her throat. She tensed as he fastened it. As his fingers brushed her skin her head bowed and she placed her palm over the gems.

  Her breathing had become deeper and he fought the urge to turn her in his arms, to tell her it didn’t have to be this way. To tell her it didn’t have to be all about duty. That together they could both move forward. Slowly they could both regain their shattered belief in love.

  What the hell was he thinking?

  ‘Very beautiful,’ she whispered as she turned to him, removing one of her small diamond studs in readiness to replace it with the matching earrings from the set. ‘I had better wear it all, enter fully into the tradition, yes?’

  ‘It will be expected of you.’ He reached out, picking up one earring, its weight immense. And he was handing that weight of duty to Kaliana. The woman he could love, if only he had time to heal. If only she too could heal.

  He watched as she put the earring in place then passed the second one, the weight of it more noticeable—the weight of his duty. His family duty.

  She fastened the earring and picked up the bracelet, her arm brushing against him as she leant forward. ‘Last one.’ She smiled up at him. A smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. Did she sense the weight of those jewels, sparkling against her skin?

  * * *

  Kaliana could scarcely breathe. Rafe’s fingers lingered on her skin, sending a flurry of hot desire-filled sparks through her. But, beneath her fingertips, the coldness of the jewels sealed their deal.

  She would be a Casella bride. A deal to secure the future of the ancient Sicilian name with an heir. He was to be her husband, the man who saved her kingdom from financial ruin and her from a cruel loveless marriage.

  She should be pleased. Relieved. It was going to happen. So why did she feel so disappointed? Why did she want more than that?

  ‘They are very beautiful. I’m honoured to wear them.’ The lie slipped with ease from the mouth of a princess trained from an early age how to be cool and calm. Unaffected. The Princess she now had to be if she stood any chance of holding onto her sanity in front of her parents and every other guest.

  ‘As are you, cara mia.’ Rafe’s words were like a caress, the hungry look in his eyes as he looked at her real. She had to remember he performed the act of being in love almost to perfection. She couldn’t forget what he’d told her. That love didn’t have a place in his life.

  She couldn’t allow herself to weaken. Her heart was in danger of really falling in love with him.

  He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘Don’t look so worried. Everything is going well. Even Enzo believes we are in love.’

  ‘Enzo?’ she questioned, the weight of those jewels increasing as all he’d told her about his mother being the last bride to wear them raced through her mind once more. Wouldn’t her wearing them cause more upset between the two brothers? Discord she wanted to end.

  ‘Will my wearing these cause more problems between you and your twin?’ She couldn’t hold the question back. Couldn’t help but try to mend things. ‘You should find a way to make it right between you and Enzo. I’m sure your father wouldn’t want it, and your mother...’

  She couldn’t stem the flow of words. Couldn’t stop herself from trying to help him. If she’d had a brother or sister, she wouldn’t want animosity between them, simmering away.

  ‘He may not be pleased, but he and his wife chose to slip away and marry in secret—his bride had no right to wear these jewels.’ Rafe cut across her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rafe.’ S
he moved closer, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the soft material of his tuxedo. ‘It must be hard to lose your brother like that, especially now the problems he’s had in his marriage have affected your life.’ If she kept these things at the forefront of her mind, she’d remember why he was doing this. Why he was marrying her. She had to remember that.

  ‘Hard doesn’t come close.’ He sighed, then smiled. ‘But none of this is about Enzo—or his wife. This is about us and right now we have guests to showcase our romance to.’

  ‘Then let’s go,’ she said, pasting a bright smile on her face.

  He took her hand. ‘We make a great team, Kaliana.’

  Her heart broke. The heart that loved Rafe.

  His hand, wrapped around hers, was warm. Safe. Secure. She looked up at him as he walked just a pace ahead of her, taking her into the crowd of friends and family. As she followed, the truth hit her. Hard.

  She was in love with him.

  For her, this engagement, this impending marriage deal, had now become very real. It was now so much more than a deal. So much more than a fake romance to be acted out in front of their friends. Whatever the outcome of their nights in Rome, she was in love with him.

  Rafe spoke first in Italian to those around them and she listened to his sexy voice, keeping a smile on her face when all she wanted to do was run and hide from the turmoil of her emotions. When he spoke again in English, talking to her parents, the realisation that she’d fallen in love with another man, putting Alif in the past, surged forwards. It was nothing compared to the future she would now face, married to a man who couldn’t love her as she loved him.

  ‘Congratulazioni.’ The cheers went up from the crowd and glasses were raised at them. She kept her mask of happiness on her face. Kept hold of Rafe’s hand.

  His fingers were clasped around hers firmly, the warmth on her skin a reminder of the heat of the passion they’d shared. But was that passion enough? Again, doubts surfaced, threatening to manifest themselves into something bigger. Something she wouldn’t be able to ignore.