He tipped up her chin. ‘Not all men are irresponsible and selfish, ma petite. And you should stop worrying about your scars. They don’t define you as a person. It’s your behaviour, not your appearance, that does that.’
She touched his bottom lip with her fingertip. ‘You’ve always dated such exquisitely beautiful women.’
‘Some of the most beautiful women I’ve been with have also been the most boring. You, on the other hand, are captivating, intriguing and utterly irresistible.’ He brought his mouth back to hers, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips until she forgot about her insecurities and thought of nothing but how he made her feel.
He made her feel good. Alive.
On fire.
Lily touched his chest, sliding her hands down over his taut abdomen shyly, hesitantly. She felt him suck in a breath as her hand came to the top of his groin. She felt the smooth head of his erection bump against her hand and a tight fist of intense longing grabbed at her insides.
She couldn’t stop herself from exploring him. He was so thick and full, so strong yet contained. She had never really thought of a man’s body as beautiful before, or at least not this part of a man’s body. She ran her fingertip over the moist tip of his penis, that most primal signal of readiness. She felt her own intimate moisture; it was a silky reminder that she was just as aroused as he was. ‘I want you inside me...’
‘I want to be inside you.’
She shivered in anticipation as he reached for a condom. He came back over her, his weight balanced on his arms, his legs a sexy tangle with hers. He gently eased her thighs apart, hooking one leg over his hip as his mouth came back to hers.
She felt the probe of his body against her. It was subtle and yet urgent. She moved against him, silently giving him permission, wanting him so badly her body was aching with it.
‘I’ll take it slowly.’ His words were a sexy rumble against her lips.
She arched her spine again, searching for his possession. She didn’t want him slow. She wanted him fast. She wanted him to feel the same pressing need she felt building in her body.
He gave a guttural groan and slid partway inside, waiting for her to accommodate him. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I want all of you.’ She dug her hands into his buttocks, urging him on. ‘Now.’
He went in a little deeper, still keeping control. ‘It will be much better for you, the longer I prepare you.’
‘I’m prepared.’ She pressed her mouth to his, feeding off him hungrily while her inner muscles gripped him tightly. I’m so prepared!
He thrust deeper, his face burying against her neck as he fought for control. She caught his rhythm, feeling every movement, her senses going off into a tailspin when his fingers came into the action, caressing her intimately to trigger that final cataclysmic release.
She shattered into a million pieces, her body shaking and shuddering with an explosive orgasm that left her spent and limp in his arms.
‘Good?’
She could barely speak. ‘Wow...’
He brushed her hair back from her face, his look surprisingly tender. ‘You did it.’
She pointed a finger at his chest. ‘You did it.’
‘It takes two to tango, as they say. We both did it.’
‘Not quite.’ Lily used her inner muscles to squeeze him. ‘You haven’t...’
‘I’m about to.’
She felt a shiver race down her spine at the smouldering look in his eyes. She felt him start to move again, the slow but steady build-up of thrusts that made her flesh tingle all over again. She didn’t think it was possible for her body to experience another orgasm so soon after the previous one but within seconds she was flying away again. She clung to him as he buried his face into her neck as he pumped his way into oblivion.
It was a long moment before he moved away from her.
He had a little frown on his face as he disposed of the condom. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back turned to her. Lily wondered with a painful pang if he was thinking of his ex. How many times had they made love? How long had they been together? Was he comparing Lily’s response to hers?
‘I guess I should go back to my room.’ She gave him a self-deprecating look when he turned to look at her. ‘I’m not sure I want Dominique to find me slinking out of your bedroom first thing in the morning.’
‘Don’t go.’
She rolled her lips together, not sure what to make of his unfathomable expression. ‘You want me to stay with you all night?’
A tiny muscle flicked in his jaw. ‘Not just tonight. Every night until you go back to London.’
He was offering her a relationship. An affair. A temporary one.
Very temporary.
‘Obviously I’m very flattered, but—’
‘But you want more.’ It was a statement not a question. ‘The thing is, Lily, this is all I’m capable of right now.’
Would she sound terribly gauche, asking for more? What chance was there that a man like him would fall in love with someone like her?
Men like Raoul Caffarelli did not fall in love with shy plain Jane English girls with scars.
It just showed how hopelessly romantic she was. But a short affair was all he was going to offer her because he would not commit to anything else unless he was fully mobile. That was the sort of man he was. He could not envisage a future any other way. Could she risk her heart for a hope that might never come to fruition? He had undoubtedly improved in the last fortnight but that was no guarantee that he would regain his full mobility.
He was twice, four times the man of some of the able-bodied ones she’d met. He had so much to offer. He was not the least bit diminished by his physical limitations.
Why couldn’t he see that?
Because he was so damned uncompromising and stubborn, that was why. He thought in terms of black or white, either-or. There were no shades of in between.
What if she said yes? It would give her a little under two weeks of memories that were certainly a whole lot better than the ones she had come with.
He was a passionate and skilled lover. He was a good man, a decent, lovely man to be around. He was respectful and kind. Considerate.
And she was in love with him.
Which was why she should say no. Right now. Nip it in the bud. Do not pass Go. Do not take another step. Do not stomp in where angels fear to tread.
‘I’ll stay.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘SO HOW ARE things going with Miss Archer?’ Rafe asked when he phoned a few days later.
‘Fine.’
‘Just “fine”?’
‘Good.’
‘So you’re talking to her, then?’
Raoul didn’t want to go into the details of his current relationship with Lily. He hadn’t quite got his own head around it. All he knew was he enjoyed being with her. She was easy company, gentle and kind, caring. He enjoyed watching her wake up each morning, rub her sleepy eyes and give him that shy smile of hers. He loved the feel of her body nestled up against his when she slept.
He loved watching her sleep.
She looked like Sleeping Beauty, so pale and so beautiful. He loved the way she responded to him so passionately. She was far more confident now as a lover. He had never been with a partner who surprised and delighted him as much as she did. It was like discovering sensuality all over again. He was aware of his body in ways he had never been before. Her touch was like magic. He was sure it was one of the reasons he had improved his mobility.
He felt stronger.
‘You are talking to her, aren’t you?’ Rafe’s voice jolted him back to the moment.
‘Of course I’m talking to her. So...how’re the wedding plans going?’
‘Whoa, quick subject change. Wh
at’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’ Raoul gave himself a mental kick for answering too quickly. It was hard to pull the wool over Rafe’s eyes, even over the phone. ‘Nothing’s going on.’
‘You’re not sleeping with the hired help, are you?’
He felt his back come up. ‘Lily is not the hired help. She’s—’
‘So it’s Lily now.’ Rafe gave an amused little chuckle. ‘I must say I didn’t see that coming. I didn’t think she was your type. Not compared to—’
‘Shut the hell up.’
‘You’re not still cut up about that bimbo dumping you, are you? Come on, Raoul. She’s not worth it. At your age you should be looking for love, not looks.’
Raoul clenched his jaw. ‘I’m not interested in falling in love.’
‘Famous last words.’ Rafe chuckled again. ‘I said them myself and look what happened—I fell hook, line, and sinker for Poppy and I couldn’t be happier. I can’t believe that this time next week we’ll be man and wife.’
‘Look, I’m happy for you. I really am. Just don’t go expecting me to follow you down the aisle any time soon. Pick on Remy. He’s the one who needs to settle down.’
‘Has he been to see you? Called you? Texted? Emailed?’
‘He came the day before you brought Lil...Miss Archer. I haven’t heard from him since. Why, what’s he up to?’
‘I don’t know.’ A thread of concern seemed to underpin Rafe’s voice. ‘I think he’s having some sort of showdown with Henri Marchand over one of his major holdings or properties. I’ve heard on the grapevine that Marchand is desperate for funds. He made a couple of investments that didn’t pay off.’
‘Karma.’
‘You could be right.’ Rafe let out a breath. ‘I just hope Remy knows what he’s doing. He’s juggling a lot of finance just now. He’s been trying to buy into the Mappleton hotel chain, as well. He’s been working on the negotiations for months. If he pulls it off it would be the biggest coup of all of our careers. But apparently Robert Mappleton is ultra-conservative. Word has it he refuses to do business with Remy because he thinks Remy’s too much of a playboy.’
‘I can’t see Remy marrying someone just to nail a deal, can you?’ Raoul’s tone was dry.
Rafe gave a laugh. ‘Speaking of weddings... Are you coming to mine?’
‘Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.’
* * *
Lily was in the garden picking flowers for the table when Raoul came out to her. He was in his manual chair but he had been up on his feet for at least a minute during their gym session earlier. He had taken three steps—four, if you counted the one before he had to grasp the rails. It was an enormous leap forward. It was still too early to say whether he would continue to improve, but she was cautiously optimistic.
He looked tired now, however. He had lines of strain around his mouth. She knew he still had a lot of pain but he refused to take any medication. She knew he didn’t sleep properly. She had woken so many times to find him watching her with a frown on his face. Was it pain that put that frown there, or was it because she wasn’t the woman he had thought would be sharing his bed?
‘Did you want me?’
He gave her a sexily slanted smile. ‘Always.’
Always? He wasn’t offering always. He had offered her here and now. And here and now would be over in days. She had resigned herself to it. She would be going home and that would be it. She wouldn’t see him again.
Her heart gave a painfully tight squeeze.
Ever.
‘Dominique knows.’
‘That I want you?’
‘That you’ve had me.’ She gave him a see-what-you’ve-done look. ‘I tried to deny it, but my bed hasn’t been slept in for over a week, so it wasn’t like I could convince her otherwise.’
‘And that bothers you?’
‘Of course it bothers me. I’m not some scullery maid slipping upstairs for a bit of slap and tickle with the lord of the manor. I feel...awkward. Embarrassed. Ashamed.’
‘Why?’
She tossed the roses she’d gathered into the basket she was holding. ‘Dominique thinks it’s all going to end up like some sort of fairytale. I think you should talk to her. Tell her how it is.’
His mouth tightened. ‘I don’t need to explain myself to my domestic staff.’
Explain it to me, then. Tell me where I stand.
‘Fine.’ She snapped another rose off and dropped it in the basket. ‘But I’m not coming to the wedding with you. I think that’s taking things way too far.’
‘I want you with me.’
‘Why?’ She felt her heart contract again. ‘So you can show everyone you’ve moved on from Clarissa?’
‘It has nothing to do with Clarissa.’
‘It has everything to do with her. You’re not ready for a relationship.’
His jaw went down like a clamp.
‘I’ve already made the arrangements. You can’t not come.’
‘I haven’t got anything to wear.’
‘I’ve got that covered.’
‘You bought me clothes?’ Lily glared at him. ‘Is that what you did? How could you? How could you make me feel like some sort of tawdry kept mistress?’
His eyes hardened like diamonds. ‘You’re not my mistress.’
‘No, of course not.’ She gave him a testy look. ‘I’m just your physical therapist with benefits.’
His mouth was pulled so tight it looked white around the edges. ‘I don’t want to have this conversation now.’
‘Fine.’ She tossed her head and went in hunt of another rose to pick. ‘Don’t have it, then.’
He blew out an audible breath. ‘What is wrong with you? Why are you being so...so antagonistic all of a sudden? You knew how it was going to be. I didn’t make any promises to you.’
Lily put the rose in her basket. The velvet petals and the savage thorns were a poignant reminder of what love was like: beautiful but excruciatingly painful.
No, he hadn’t made any promises.
She was the one with the serious case of wishful thinking. A couple of times she’d caught him watching her when he had thought she was still asleep. He’d had a look of such tenderness and longing in his eyes it had made her wonder if he would open his heart to her. She was wrong. Clearly. ‘No, that’s right. You didn’t.’
‘Let’s not fight now, Lily.’ His jaw was set in an uncompromising line. ‘Please...’ His voice lost its harsh edge, showing a tiny glimpse of how vulnerable he was feeling, ‘Not now.’
Lily felt herself caving in. What was she doing ruining their last few hours arguing with him? He had made up his mind.
She had better get used to it.
* * *
The Oxfordshire church was full of fragrant flowers. Raoul had to steel himself as he wheeled up the aisle. It reminded him of his parents’ funeral. The cloying scent was overpowering. Sickening. Thank God there wasn’t a choir.
He caught a glimpse of Lily sitting in one of the pews. She gave him a shy smile that tugged on his heart like stitches being pulled. She was wearing the designer outfit he had bought her. He couldn’t make up his mind whether it suited her or not. Personally, he preferred her without clothes, but that was just his opinion. The slim-fitting, shell-pink suit clung to her neat figure like a glove. Her hair was swept up in an elegant twist on top of her head and she had put on a modest amount of make-up that highlighted her creamy complexion, regally high cheekbones and the deep blue of her eyes.
Rafe was standing at the altar, looking dashing if not a little nervous. Remy hadn’t yet arrived, and no one was entirely sure if he would, but that was Remy for you.
‘How’re you doing?’ Rafe asked as Raoul parked his chair alongside.
‘I think that
’s supposed to be my line.’
‘You made it.’
‘I made it.’
Rafe swallowed a couple of times and then turned to face the front of the church. ‘I feel a bit nervous.’
‘I can tell.’
Rafe glanced at him. ‘You can?’
‘You keep tugging at your left sleeve. Dead giveaway.’
‘Got that.’
Remy suddenly appeared at the portal of the church and did a last-minute adjustment to his bow tie as he ambled down the aisle. ‘Were you guys waiting for me?’
Rafe gave him a look. ‘Glad you could make it.’
Remy gave one of his renowned charming grins. ‘Hey, Raoul, you’re looking good. Walking yet?’
Raoul stretched his mouth into a rictus smile. ‘Almost.’
The organist began playing. The beautiful cadences of Pachelbel’s Canon in D swelled to the rafters.
‘Here comes the bride....’ Rafe’s voice sounded hoarse with emotion.
Raoul looked at Poppy as she floated up the aisle. She only had eyes for his brother. Her face was glowing with love, with absolute rapture. He felt a pain in the middle of his chest. Would he ever see a bride come towards him with the same depth of love?
‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered together...’
The sacred vows were a form of torture. To have and to hold. For richer for poorer...
In sickness and in health.
Did his brother realise what the hell he was promising? Did Poppy? There was only so much sickness a relationship could endure. It was too much to ask someone to stick by you no matter what. Life could throw some horrible curve balls. He had caught one fair in the middle of his gut. He was still reeling from it.
Could he ask someone—who was he kidding?—could he ask Lily—to stick with him through it? He didn’t know how he would be in a week’s, two weeks’, two months’ time, let alone a lifetime. Would it be fair to tie her down to such uncertainty?
‘You may kiss the bride.’
Raoul looked at his hands where they were gripping the arms of his chair like claws. He was happy for Rafe. Of course he was. Rafe was a good brother. A great brother. He deserved to be happy after all he had done for Raoul and Remy. He had kept them together; sacrificed his own interests and at times his safety to keep them as a family.
Never Underestimate a Caffarelli Page 14