Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

He ran his gaze over her primly pulled back hair. ‘I’ll have dinner with you out on the terrace if you wear your hair loose.’

Her eyes flickered with something he couldn’t identify. ‘I never wear my hair loose.’

He gave her a who-dares-wins look. ‘Deal or no deal?’

CHAPTER SEVEN

RAOUL KEPT HIS part of the bargain. He used the manual chair even though it took him twice as long because he had made a promise to himself that he would not go outside until he could get there under his own power. Sure, it was bending the rules a little bi

t, but he’d made a deal with Lily and he wanted to see if she would take him up on it.

He transferred himself to the chair at the table Dominique had set up, complete with starched tablecloth, flowers and candles, and waited for Lily to join him.

He heard the sound of her light footsteps on the flagstones and turned his head to watch her approach. Her hair was longer than he’d thought; it swung in a glossy ash-brown curtain around her shoulders and halfway down her back. It had a bouncy wave to it that her tight ponytail had suppressed, and with her face bare and loose-fitting clothes it gave her an indie-girl look that was surprisingly eye-catching.

‘You have very beautiful hair,’ he said as she took the seat to his right.

‘Thank you.’

Raoul couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so hauntingly beautiful, like a Tolstoy or Brontë heroine—dark and yet pale, with that air of untouchable reserve. ‘When was the last time you let your hair down?’

Something shifted in her eyes before they fell away from his. ‘Not for a while.’

He felt an almost irresistible urge to reach out and thread his fingers in those silky thick tresses. He could smell the sweet summer jasmine scent of her shampoo. It teased his nostrils into a flare like one of his stud stallions taking in a new mare’s scent. ‘You should do it more often.’

‘I’ve been thinking of getting it cut off.’

‘Don’t do that.’

She shrugged as if it didn’t matter either way and picked up her water glass. He watched as she lifted it to her mouth and took a delicate sip. She was so self-contained it was fascinating to observe her. That little taste of her passion in the massage room had spoken to the primitive male in him. Her mouth had communicated what her speech and posture tried to keep hidden.

She wanted him.

He wondered how experienced she was. She certainly didn’t look the worldly, confident type. At the age of twenty-six it would be unusual for her to be a virgin, but certainly not impossible. She’d said she wasn’t interested in a relationship just now, which could mean she’d not long come out of one. Perhaps it had ended badly and she was waiting until she got over it.

Was that a broken heart she was hiding? She seemed a sensitive girl, in tune with other people’s feelings. The way she had spoken to him about his break-up had suggested she had compassion and empathy for others.

The birds in the garden chirruped as they settled for the evening. The warm air was fragrant with the clean smell of freshly mown grass. It seemed like for ever since he had been outside and yet it had only been weeks.

An ache tightened around his heart at the thought of spending the rest of his life indoors. How would he ever endure it? He didn’t feel alive unless he was challenging himself physically. He loved the adrenalin rush of fighting his most primal fears in conquering a terrifying ski slope or climbing a vertiginous precipice. He had lived life on the edge because he felt grounded when he challenged himself physically.

How would he ever settle for anything else?

‘Tell me about your life in London.’

‘It’s probably excruciatingly boring to someone like you,’ she said.

‘I don’t live the hedonistic life the papers like to portray,’ Raoul said. ‘Compared to my younger brother, Remy, I’m really rather conservative. After all, I was about to settle down and get married.’ He picked up his wine glass but didn’t raise it to his mouth. ‘You can’t get more conservative than that.’

She looked up at him with those big dark blue eyes. ‘Do you miss her?’

Right now Raoul had trouble even bringing Clarissa Moncrief’s features to mind. He realised with a jolt that he didn’t even know if her hair was naturally blond or coloured from a bottle. Had her eyes been grey or light blue? ‘I miss being in a relationship. I can’t remember being single for so long a period. But as to missing her... Not really.’ Not at all, if he were honest.

Lily’s brow was furrowed. ‘Doesn’t that strike you as rather unusual, given you were considering marrying her?’

‘I make a point of not needing people to that level. My theory of life is that people will always let you down if you give them enough room to do so. It doesn’t matter how much they profess to love or care for you, there will always be a situation or circumstances where they will bail on you to serve their own interests.’

Or die on you and leave you lost and abandoned.