A Whisper of Disgrace

‘So you will find employment here?’ he mused. ‘Or perhaps you are wealthy enough to live comfortably without any need to go out to work?’

If he hadn’t hit on such a raw nerve, then Rosa might have told him to keep his intrusive questions to himself. Because there always had been money whenever she’d wanted it and plenty of it too. A trust fund had been put in place for her from the moment she’d been born and she’d been able to access it any time she liked. Sometimes she’d wondered what life might have been like if she’d had to save up in order to buy the latest expensive pair of shoes she’d coveted, but that was something she’d never experienced. At least, not until now. Because quickly following the text summoning her home had come another, informing her that all access to her funds had been frozen. That there was no more money to be had.

She knew exactly what her family were trying to do.

They were trying to force her to go back to Sicily by starving her out!

She’d known that they could be ruthless. She’d seen them dispose of enemies and workers—even husbands and wives—she just hadn’t realised that the same ruthlessness could be directed at her.

She stared at Kulal as his question lodged in her mind, suddenly realising that even if she did try to go out to work that her options open to her were very limited. She had a respectable degree in languages, but she wasn’t actually trained in anything, was she?

‘Actually, I’m not wealthy,’ she said. ‘Not any more.’

‘So what are you going to do?’ he persisted.

Frustration made her turn on him again. Was he getting some kind of kick by watching her squirm? ‘What I do or I don’t do is none of your business.’

‘But I could make it my business.’

His tone had softened and instinctively Rosa stiffened, for she suspected that this was a man who didn’t really do soft. She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because I think we could offer each other mutual help in a time of mutual need.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

He took a step forward, closing some of the space between them, and he saw from the sudden tension in her body that she was acutely aware of that fact. As was he … ‘I think you’re running from something, Rosa,’ he said as he stared down into her big, dark eyes. ‘Something or someone. I also think that you’re hiding—that you don’t want anyone to know you’re here. And that you’re broke. Or at least, if not broke, then rapidly running out of funds.’

Rosa swallowed because his proximity was making her feel as unsettled as his perception. And how spooky was that, when pretty much everything he’d guessed had been true? Soon after she’d found out that her funds had been frozen, she had sold a bracelet to a second-hand jeweller in nearby Nice, but had received much less for it than she’d been expecting. And wasn’t it funny how money didn’t seem to go anywhere, especially when you weren’t used to living frugally? Especially when she’d blown most of her budget on a tiny crimson dress which had got her into all this trouble.

‘Why are you so interested in me?’ she whispered.

Kulal’s mouth flattened into an uncompromising line. Time to destroy any emerging fantasies which might destabilise what he was about to say. ‘I’m not interested in you, habeebi,’ he said softly. ‘But more in what we can offer each other.’

Beneath the slippery fabric of her gown, Rosa felt the prickling of her skin and she wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear. Was he going to suggest that they continue where they’d left off the other day, when they were so rudely interrupted in the garden of his hotel villa? And if he did say that … if he pulled her in his arms and kissed her with the same kind of hungry passion she’d tasted the other day, would she honestly be able to push him away?

The words seemed to be having difficulty leaving her mouth, but she knew she had to say them. ‘What kind of offer?’

Kulal’s lips curved into a smile of satisfaction as he read the unmistakable signs of sexual desire on her face, and knew he was home and dry.

‘My offer of marriage,’ he said.

His words echoed around the room and a feeling of unreality began to wash over Rosa as she stared into his black eyes. She tried to wonder what it would be like if he’d made his suggestion with some degree of affection, rather than with that cruel and calculating expression. But she was a Corretti, wasn’t she? And therefore ideally equipped to deal with his proposal in the same businesslike way as he’d made it.