Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

His expression was as cold and as hard as marble. ‘It would seem rather stupid to fly back to France for forty-eight hours. Your contract with me is over. Consider your work with me done.’

Lily swallowed a painful lump in her throat. But her pride made it terribly important not to show how devastated she was by his heartless dismissal. Surely he could have done it differently? Given her some hope. Left things open-ended.

But no, he had cut her loose.

Cancelled her.

Finished with her.

‘Right... Well, then, I guess this is goodbye.’

‘Yes.’ His answer was clipped. Decisive. Final.

Lily gave him one last smile, her bravest, unaffected, ‘my heart isn’t breaking into a thousand pieces’ smile. ‘I think you’re a really lovely person, Raoul. I hope you get better. But, even if you don’t, I want you to know that there are lots of really decent and genuine women out there who would be happy with you just the way you are.’

Something moved in his eyes. A muscle ticked in his cheek. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to change his mind.

The silence stretched...

But then an impenetrable mask came back down over his features. ‘Goodbye, Lily.’ And then he was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘HAVE YOU HEARD how the honeymooners are doing?’ Dominique asked as she poured Raoul’s coffee two weeks later.

‘They got back from Barbados yesterday.’

There was a little silence.

‘Have you heard from Mademoiselle Archer?’

He clenched his teeth. ‘No. Why should I? I’m just another client. Our time is over. She did all she could for me and it wasn’t enough.’

Dominique pursed her lips in thought. ‘Love is a funny thing. It can smack you in the face or it can slowly sneak up on you. But what you should never do is walk away from it. You might not get another chance.’

Raoul gave her a sour look. ‘Is this a veiled way of hastening your retirement? I thought you wanted to work until you were sixty.’

‘You love her. I know you do. I’m a Frenchwoman; I know about these things.’

‘You’re my housekeeper, not my life coach. I do not pay you to comment on my private life.’

‘Mademoiselle Archer doesn’t see the chair when she sees you. She just sees you, just like you see her without her scars.’

Raoul felt a lump come up in his throat. He’d been fighting this wretched loneliness for days. The château was oppressive without Lily here. The days were too long, the nights even more so. But how could he ask her to be with him? She would be signing up for a lifetime of caring.

That’s what love is all about. Caring. Commitment.

Seeing Lily catching that bouquet at Rafe and Poppy’s wedding had made him panic. He had done what he always did when he felt cornered—he had pushed back. Hard. Cruelly.

He had felt so trapped with everyone cheering and nudging each other. He’d felt claustrophobic, pressured, hemmed in at how everyone seemed to be waiting for him to come forward to claim Lily. He didn’t want to be some sort of circus pony. He wanted time to think about what he would be asking her to do.

He wanted her.

He wanted it all: the caring and the commitment, the hope of children.

He wanted Lily so muc

h it was an ache in his bones but he felt like he was going to ruin her life if he asked her to marry him.