Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

How could he possibly run his business from the sidelines?

But it wasn’t just the stud business. He could not think of a worse form of torture than to watch a race while seated. No one sat down when a race was coming to the finish line. Everyone jumped to their feet—the trainers, the owners and the crowd. The cacophony of cheers and shouts as the horses came down to the line always gave him goose bumps.

How could he do it any other way?

Raoul met Lily’s gaze. ‘I suppose you cooked up this little scheme with Etienne—to lure me out here in the hope that it will make me yearn to get back down to the stables. But dinner on the terrace is not going to change my mind. I will not go down to the stables until I can get there on my own two feet.’

‘I think you’re being unnecessarily stubborn about this. Plenty of people run very successful businesses in spite of their physical limitations.’

‘I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Miss Archer. I don’t want to run my business from a chair. I would rather sell it than do that.’

‘But Etienne said the horses are your passion.’

‘I have other passions.’

Her cheeks bloomed again with colour, but her voice was tart and full of spinsterish disapproval. ‘I’m very sure you do.’

Raoul gave an indolent crook of his mouth. ‘You don’t approve of indulging one’s passions?’

Her expression was tightly composed, almost too composed. ‘Only if you don’t hurt anyone else in doing so.’

‘Have you been hurt in love, Miss Archer?’

‘I’ve never been in love.’

‘But you’ve been hurt.’

Her gaze skittered away from his as she reached for her water glass. ‘Hasn’t everyone at one time or another?’

Raoul watched as she took a token sip. So measured, so controlled, but behind that cool façade was a passionate, sensual young woman. He had felt that surge of passion against his mouth. He had felt the primal heat of erotic human contact, the mingling of her breath with his, the duelling of their tongues, the carnal desire he felt in her lightest touch.

He wanted to feel it again.

He dragged his gaze away from her mouth, his body still humming with the thought of bedding her. It was crazy even to allow the thought to enter his head. He was probably only tempted because it had been weeks since he’d had sex. Or maybe it was because she was such a fresh challenge to him. She had made it pretty clear she didn’t like him or approve of his lifestyle. It could prove rather entertaining to change her mind.

Forget about it. You don’t need any more complications in your life right now.

Raoul was getting dizzy from all the mental shakes he’d been giving himself. He wasn’t in the mood for an affair even if his body thought it was a good idea. He liked to conduct his affairs with clear focus, with control and purpose. Diving into a fling just for the hell of it wasn’t his way. Emotions were something he controlled, even though there was a part of him that kind of liked the thought of falling in love.

He and his brothers had spent their early years surrounded by their parents’ love for them and for each other. It had set a standard, perhaps a rather unrealistic one, because not one of his relationships had even come close to what their parents had. Love and commitment had been central to their relationship. They still had their arguments, sometimes quite passionate ones, but they had never let the sun go down on their anger. Conflicts were resolved, slights forgiven, love restored.

Raoul had seen the change in Rafe, how falling in love with Poppy Silverton had given him an extra dimension to his life. Rafe had always been a goal-driven workaholic but now he was talking about taking extended leave for his honeymoon, and there were even baby plans afoot. Rafe had spoken of his and Poppy’s desire for a family to love and nurture together.

Raoul knew his brother would be a fabulous father. He had been such a protective big brother, always putting Raoul’s and Remy’s interests ahead of his own. He had taken the brunt of their grandfather’s anger countless times, even taking the blame for misdemeanours that Raoul or Remy had committed in order to shield them from Vittorio’s harsh and unpredictable temper.

For the last twenty-five years Rafe had been the family anchor, but now it was time for him to launch into his new life. Finding Poppy—the love of his life—in a quiet little village in the English countryside had transformed his older brother into a man who embraced and expressed love with the same force of determination he previously used to avoid it.

You want that, too: love, commitment, children.

Did he?

He tried to picture it: a beautiful wife, two or three children, a dog or two...

A wheelchair.

His insides clenched and twisted at the thought of not being able to walk alongside his children from when they took their first steps or to walk with them into their first day of school. Not to be able to carry them in his arms, or to kick a football with them or teach them to swim, ski and water-ski as his father had done with him and his brothers.

If he had a daughter he would not be able to walk her down the aisle one day.