Rachael Thomas

A Shocking Proposal In Sicily


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man.

      ‘To the moment,’ she said boldly, hoping she didn’t sound as gauche and inexperienced as she really was.

      She’d never chatted up a man like this before. Never given out such a clear message of wanting far more than idle chat to any man other than the man she’d once been engaged to. Yet here she was. Alone. In a bar. With a sinfully sexy man. Not wanting the moment to end.

      She sipped her champagne. All the while his inky black eyes watched her, his brow slightly furrowed. His stubble-covered jaw was stern and set. He looked powerful. Commanding. And sexy.

      He called to her on a level she’d never known existed. Made her want the impossible. Made her want to be someone else—for tonight at least. Something no other man had made her feel since Alif’s death.

      ‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he said, his gravelly voice sending spirals of heat through her, nudging at the need, the attraction he raised. Demanding the kind of satisfaction she knew instinctively only he could give her.

      ‘Just first names,’ she said quickly, watching his brows raise before a smile of conspiracy slid slowly over his lips. Sinfully sexy didn’t come anywhere near it.

      ‘As you wish.’ He lifted his glass of champagne to her, his eyes darkening with wild desire, making her head spin more than the champagne she wasn’t really used to. ‘Rafe.’

      ‘Ana,’ she said quickly, unable to quell the shimmer of excitement rushing through her.

      The feeling was so powerful she drank the remainder of her champagne in one go, not missing his amusement, which set off sparks in his eyes as well as inside her. He pulled the bottle of champagne from the cooler, ice rattling as it was disturbed and, without a word, replenished her glass.

      When he looked at her again his expression was speculative, but thankfully he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask further questions. Instead he replaced the bottle in the ice with the kind of familiarity that made her think he must be a waiter. Maybe he worked here? Maybe he’d just finished for the night?

      ‘Are you a waiter here?’ she asked as he took a sip of his champagne.

      His eyes widened and for a moment she thought the champagne he’d sipped would be fired all over her. She’d clearly shocked him. Offended him even. She’d been so taken in by him she hadn’t paid that much attention to his clothes—just him. But now she looked more closely, she could see his shirt wasn’t just any shirt. It was quality, fitting him to perfection, and had probably been made for him.

      ‘No. I am a guest. As are you, I presume.’

      ‘I am,’ she said with renewed determination. She knew that whatever happened next—and the fact that something would was as certain as the full moon which would rise over London—she wanted this night.

      She was a woman with needs. A woman with desires. A woman this man had set alight with one sexy smile.

      She was more than entitled to this one night. She’d lost the love of her life and soon she would be forced into a marriage she didn’t want. This moment was hers. And she intended to take it. All of it.

      ‘Then I am honoured to be able to share this evening with you.’ He glanced at her, pouring himself another glass of champagne. She watched, mesmerised by his olive hands, long regal fingers, wrapping around the bottle so eloquently.

      What would it feel like to have those hands touch her? To have those fingers bring pleasure to her body?

      He looked directly at her, a mysterious intensity in his eyes as they slowly travelled down her body, lingering on her breasts, the soft silk of her pale gold blouse offering no protection against the heat of his eyes. His attention lowered, down over the skirt of the same silk, fitting snugly to her hips. Then finally, when Kaliana thought she couldn’t take it any more, his attention shifted to her high-heeled sandals and red painted toenails.

      She shivered with pleasure. Anticipation.

      He hadn’t touched her, but he’d just undressed her. Right here. In the bar of an exclusive hotel. She felt totally and gloriously naked even though the cool silk against her skin told her otherwise.

      Did he know her thoughts? Did he know how he made her feel? Did he know what she wanted? Right now.

      ‘I think all night would be better.’ Emboldened by the heat of her body, she pushed aside embarrassment. Pushed aside the last remnants of her reservations and made her intentions, her needs, clear. Before she married to save her family from the shame of financial ruin, she wanted to know the pleasure of being desired by a man. The pleasure of desiring this man.

      His brows flicked up in surprise but instantly he schooled his chiselled features, the cool charm of moments ago back in play. ‘You wish to spend the entire night in my company?’

      No man had ever come close to making her feel the kind of desire Alif had made her feel. If only she hadn’t been so insistent on going to her marriage bed a virgin, she would have known what it was to desire and be desired before he’d been tragically taken from her. Regret rushed through her.

      No other man had ever made her feel that way.

      Until she’d seen this man. Within seconds of her eyes meeting his she’d known she wanted him. Known he was the only man who could cleanse her body of its innocence.

      She wasn’t about to allow this moment, this feeling, this need, to slip away again. She wanted this night. Wanted this man. ‘I do.’ She held his gaze, challenging him to pull back, to call a halt to the dangerous game of passion she was on the brink of playing. ‘I want to be with you all night.’

      Kaliana wanted to indulge in the game, dangerous or not. What better way to forget about the future and move on from the past than in this man’s arms?

      His gaze narrowed. Was he thinking of a wife he’d left at home? Children even? ‘You are playing a dangerous game, Ana.’

      The silky softness of his voice was like a caress. It soothed. It excited. If his voice could do that, what would his kiss be like?

      Her gaze flew to his lips; instantly a slow and very sexy smile spread over them.

      ‘A game I want to play.’ She looked up at him from lowered lashes, flirting coming surprisingly naturally to her. ‘But if you don’t want to. Or can’t...’ She allowed the words to trail off, seductively moving closer to him in a way she’d never, ever imagined herself doing. But tonight she wasn’t herself. She looked boldly up at him. ‘I will go.’

      Instantly he put one arm around her waist, slowly but very purposefully drawing her closer. All the while his eyes remained fixed on hers. She moved willingly towards him, her body alive with a sensation she’d never experienced before. The pressure of his hand, his arm holding her, burning her skin.

      ‘We will play the game your way.’ His eyes darkened as he drew her a fraction closer, the narrowing gap between their bodies alive with sparks. ‘For now.’

      ‘Good.’ She smiled up at him, feeling out of her depth and very much in control all at the same time. She moved closer still, inhaling the exotic scent of his cologne, the tang of citrus blending with cedarwood pushing her on, taking her higher. This was exactly the game she wanted to play.

      Tonight, she wasn’t Princess Kaliana of Ardu Safra. Tonight, she was simply Ana and it felt right. Tonight, she wanted this man. He was exactly what she needed. What she wanted. And she wanted him all night.

       CHAPTER TWO

      RAFE WATCHED ANA’S eyes darken. Desire thundered through him. Harder. Faster. Like the call of a war drum of old. He was losing the mask of the composed businessman who’d a short while ago been drinking whisky alone. Hell, he was losing himself. And he hadn’t even kissed her.

      Yet.