Never Underestimate a Caffarelli (Those Scandalous Caffarellis 2)

‘I don’t think it’s my place to barge in on a—’

‘I want you there.’ His tone had a thread of steel to it. ‘You’re my physical therapist. I might need you to massage a tight muscle or stroke my ego or something.’

‘Your ego?’

‘Will you do it?’

She caught the inside of her mouth with her teeth. A family wedding. It was so...so personal. She would have to witness other people experiencing what she most desperately wanted for herself: love, commitment and a happy future. ‘I don’t know....’

‘It’s another ten days away. You have plenty of time to make up your mind.’

Lily wondered if he were asking her to accompany him for other reasons. It would be a very public gathering. There would be press everywhere. No doubt there would be speculation about his broken engagement. Was he looking for a way to divert public attention, having her pose as his stand-in date? ‘I have to go back to London straight after. I have clients booked in. There’s a waiting list.’

‘I won’t keep you longer than the month. After the wedding, you are free to leave.’

His words made her heart suddenly contract. He hadn’t wanted her here in the first place. Why was she disappointed he was already planning for her departure?

‘OK. Fine. Good.’

‘We should do something about this food Dominique has prepared,’ he said. ‘She might not have packed condoms, but there is just about everything else inside this pack.’

Lily sat down on the blanket beside him. She couldn’t think of a time when she had felt less like eating. She made a token effort but later she couldn’t recall what she ate. The conversation was stilted. Awkward. She sensed Raoul couldn’t wait for the evening to be over. Even the horses seemed to pick up on the restless mood. They twitched their tails and pricked their ears at the slightest sound.

Finally it was time to leave.

She made an attempt to pack up the picnic basket but Raoul intercepted her. ‘Leave it. Etienne will take it back to the château later.’

‘Do you need a hand to get back on your—?’

He cut her off with a look. ‘I’ll be fine. Take Mardi back to the stables. One of the other stable hands will unsaddle her for you. I’ll wait here for Etienne.’

* * *

Raoul was drowning. The water was over his head. His limbs were dead. His lungs were exploding. He thrashed against the restraint of the water but it didn’t feel like water. It felt like fabric. He punched it away and he heard a choked-off cry.

He froze.

Woke up. Blinked. Realised he was in his bedroom and that Lily was sitting on the edge of his bed clutching her chin, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. ‘Did I hurt you?’ His insides turned to gravy. ‘Tell me I didn’t hurt you.’

‘You didn’t.’ She dropped her hand from her face. ‘Not really.’

He could see the red mark where his hand had glanced against her chin. He touched it gently with his finger. ‘I’m sorry. I sometimes have terrible nightmares. I should’ve warned you.’

‘I heard you shouting.’

Somehow his finger had gone from her chin to the soft pillow of her lower lip. ‘Did I wake you?’

‘I wasn’t asleep.’

His gaze locked on hers. She looked so young and so...so unpretentious. Unprepared. Natural. Her hair was free about her shoulders. It smelt of honeysuckle and jasmine, familiar, homely yet exotic. He traced her top lip and then her bottom lip with his finger. ‘Why weren’t you able to sleep?’

Her eyes fell away from his. ‘Just one of those nights, I guess...’

‘I was having one of those myself.’

Her eyes came back to his. ‘Can I get you a drink or something? Milk? Hot chocolate? Cocoa?’

‘No.’ He moved his thumb over her lip again. ‘Thanks.’