Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

He brought his horse to a standstill as he waited for her to catch up. ‘All good?’

Lily couldn’t keep the smile off her face. ‘Wonderful.’

‘You look beautiful when you smile.’

She felt beautiful when he looked at her like that. His eyes were meltingly dark and sexy as they held hers. She felt her stomach pitch when his gaze dropped down to her mouth. It never failed to stir her senses. It felt like a vicarious kiss each and every time.

‘Are

you hungry?’ he asked.

‘Starving.’ Was he talking about food? Was she?

‘But first I need to dismount.’

‘How will you...?’

‘Watch.’ He made a clicking noise with his tongue and the stallion bent his forelegs to the ground. He eased himself out of the saddle and, using the horse as a prop, he came down on the picnic rug. For a fraction of a second it looked like he actually took all of his weight on his left leg. Lily was sure she hadn’t imagined it, unless it was her wishful thinking back in overdrive. Had he been aware of doing it? He issued an order to the stallion in French and the horse moved away and started grazing as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

‘Wow, that is impressive. Has he always done that or did you just teach him?’

‘I taught him ages ago. I just didn’t realise how handy it would turn out to be.’

Lily could hear the strain of the last few weeks in his voice. Progress of any sort could be demoralising if it wasn’t as fast and as perfect as one had hoped for. She had seen so many clients struggle with the emotional side of rehab. That final acceptance of limitation was the hardest thing to deal with. Some people never got there. They just couldn’t cope with not being able to do the things they used to do. ‘You’re doing so well, Raoul. Did you realise you took your weight on your left leg just then? I’m sure I didn’t imagine it.’

He gave her a grimace that fell short of being a smile. ‘No, you didn’t imagine it. I can stand for a few seconds, but I can’t see myself walking into that church for my brother’s wedding, can you?’

‘The only thing that matters is your being there. I’m sure that’s all your brother and his wife-to-be want.’ Lily slipped out of the saddle and released the mare to graze alongside the stallion. ‘You have to be there, Raoul. You don’t really have a choice. You’ll hurt Rafe and Poppy too much if you don’t show up.’

He frowned as he picked a strand of grass and started toying with it. His right arm was still showing signs of the muscle wastage and topical dryness from being inside the cast and, though it was still swollen, his fingers were moving freely and seemingly without pain. ‘I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Rafe at our parents’ funeral. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.’ His frown deepened as if he had time-travelled to that dark, tragic time in his head. ‘I put my feelings aside so I could support him. I swore on that day that I would always stand by him and Remy. That’s what brothers are supposed to do. They support each other through everything and anything.’

‘You don’t have to physically stand by someone to support them. There are lots of ways to show you care about someone.’ Like taking them on a picnic and arranging a quiet horse to ride so they get their lost confidence back.

Stop it. You’re reading far too much into this.

His hazel eyes met hers. ‘Rafe relies on me to back him up. Remy is like a loose cannon. I guess it’s because we spoilt him so much. He was so young when our parents died. We tried to protect him and as a result he takes a hell of a lot for granted.’

‘You did your best under terrible circumstances. No one could ask more of you than that.’

‘I can’t let Rafe down, but I can’t bear the thought of only being half there.’

She reached for his left hand lying on the rug and squeezed it in her own. ‘You won’t be half there. All of you will be there. Can’t you see that? You are much more than your physical self. Much, much more.’

He picked up her hand and brought it to rest against his chin. She felt the prickle of his stubble against her fingers and a wave of longing rolled through her as his eyes meshed with hers. ‘I wish I’d met you before my accident.’

Her heart gave a sudden kick against her ribcage. ‘Why?’

‘I think I could’ve fallen in love with you.’

Like you have a choice?

‘What’s stopping you now?’ She could not believe she’d just asked that! What was she doing, asking for a slap down? Hadn’t her self-esteem taken enough hits? Why would he fall in love with her?

She was a nondescript brown moth, not a beautiful butterfly.

His fingers moved against hers. They seemed to be relaying a message that was at odds with his words. ‘Reason. Rationality. Responsibility.’

‘The three Rs.’