Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

He dropped the pen he was holding and leaned back in his chair to survey her features for a moment. She was wearing her usual don’t-notice-me garb and her face was as clear and clean as a child’s.

His gaze drifted to her rosebud mouth.

Big mistake.

His groin stirred and then throbbed with a dull ache of longing. Had he ever felt a more responsive mouth? Had he ever tasted lips so full, sweet and tantalising? He could still feel the shy movement of her tongue against his. He could still feel the velvet softness of her lips as they’d played with his. What would it feel like to have those plump lips and that little cat’s tongue sucking and stroking him on other parts of his body?

Don’t even think about it.

He forced his gaze back to her blue one. ‘It’s as good a time as any, I suppose. What did you want to talk about?’

‘I met one of your stableboys today. Etienne.’

‘And?’

‘He spoke very highly of you.’

Raoul lifted one shoulder up and down dismissively. ‘I pay his wages.’

‘He said you’re like a father to him.’

‘Probably because his own father beat the living daylights out of him since he was little more than a baby. Anyone who showed the least bit of kindness towards him would be a saint in his eyes. And there is one thing I am not, Miss Archer, and that is a saint. I would’ve thought what happened in the massage room earlier today would’ve firmly established that.’

Those two delightful spots of colour appeared in her cheeks. ‘That was just as much my fault as yours.’

He gave her a levelling look. ‘Because my brother paid you to service me?’

‘No.’ Her mouth flattened for a moment before she added, ‘Because...I don’t know. It just...happened.’

‘It must not happen again,’ Raoul said. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

Her chin came up. ‘Perfectly.’

A tense silence filled the corners of the room.

‘Will that be all, Miss Archer? I have some important paperwork to see to before dinner.’

‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about—dinner, I mean.’ She twisted her hands together in front of her body, reminding him of a schoolgirl who had been summoned to the headmaster’s office and wasn’t yet sure of her fate.

‘Then please get to the point.’

She gave him a brittle glare. ‘You’re not making this easy for me. Why do you have to be so...beastly all the time? I don’t know why the papers say you’re the most charming of the Caffarelli brothers. It just goes to show you can’t believe a word you read in the press. As far as I’m concerned, you’re about as charming as a venomous viper.’

Raoul drilled his gaze into hers. ‘Have you finished?’

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips in a sweeping motion that sent a rocket blast of lust straight to his groin. Her colour was still high, her eyes glittering brightly with antagonism. ‘I suppose it’s pointless now asking you to have dinner with me on the terrace.’

Raoul raised a brow. ‘You’re inviting me to dinner in my own house?’

‘Not in your house. Outside on the terrace. Dominique’s gone to a lot of trouble. It’s a nice evening to dine outside.’

‘Is this part of your therapy, to have me eaten alive by mosquitoes?’

She pressed her lips together for a moment. ‘I just thought it’d be nice for you to have some fresh air. But I can see you’re already made up your mind to stay inside and sulk and feel sorry for yourself. Fine. You do that. Have your own private pity party. I’ll have dinner by myself.’ She turned and stalked over to the door, her back stiff and straight as an ironing board.

‘I’ll strike a deal with you,’ Raoul said.

She turned around and looked at him warily. ‘What sort of deal?’