Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal
a trail down her neck, licking the hollow of her throat.
Dara felt as though a bucket of ice had been thrown over her as she realised just what had been about to happen. She barely knew him and she had been about to have wild, unprotected sex with him on a sofa. Where was her self-control now?
Clambering out from underneath his powerful frame, she fought against the emotion building in her chest.
‘What’s wrong?’
He held on to her, his powerful bare chest still burning against her skin. She pushed more forcefully this time, noting his expression turn quickly to confusion as he moved, letting her struggle to her feet.
‘I can’t do this,’ she breathed, tugging at her wrinkled dress to cover her exposed flesh. She felt completely bared, mortified at her own behaviour.
Leo stood up, then remained deathly still, his breathing laboured and heat high on his cheekbones. ‘You’re the one who walked over to me, Dara.’
‘I didn’t kiss you like—like that,’ she stammered, trying desperately to get her ragged breathing under control.
‘Are you angry because I kissed you or because you liked it a little too much?’
‘We barely know each other. I don’t do things like this.’
It wasn’t a lie. The thought of casual sex was an entirely foreign concept to her. But right now her panic had nothing to do with morals and more to do with the thought of getting close to any man again.
‘I make you lose control, Dara. That’s what you don’t like. I don’t know why you’re so afraid of letting yourself have pleasure.’
‘Don’t assume that you know me—or how I feel.’ She shook her head.
He didn’t know what it was like to have your life plan taken away without warning. To have a man you trusted shatter your entire self-worth to pieces. She could very easily use sex with Leo to unwind and forget about the memories bubbling to the surface. But she wouldn’t, and that was her choice to deal with.
Leo shrugged with finality, clearly done with arguing over the matter. ‘Fair enough. Let me know when you change your mind.’
She walked to her bedroom door, looking back one more time to where he stood like a Greek god in the middle of the ornate living room.
‘I won’t.’
* * *
‘It’s so nice to have our Leo back—isn’t it, girls?’
The Lucchesi family sat together in the formal sitting room of their historic Palermo villa. Umberto Lucchesi was known for collecting what he perceived to be pieces amongst his country’s greatest treasures. His love of historic architecture was inherited from his aristocratic lineage.
Gloria smiled indulgently as her two teenaged daughters nodded politely in unison, and Leo laid his hand on top of Dara’s, feeling her tense slightly. Her face belied her discomfort but she smiled at him—a warm smile no doubt intended to display affection.
He could see the confusion in her eyes, sense how distant she had become since last night. His night had consisted of a very cold shower and a much needed glass of whisky.
She had enjoyed kissing him, and what had followed afterwards, much more than she’d intended to. He remembered the way the soft curves of her breasts had felt beneath his palms. She was a well of heat under all that ice. But now, knowing how good her skin tasted, it made it even more difficult to sit close to her without throwing her over his shoulder like a caveman and finding the nearest bed.
The only problem now was that he wondered if he would ever get enough. She was intoxicating. Since they had arrived at dinner he’d found himself touching her at every excuse. He had no doubt that she would come to him before the night was through—he could see it in the sultry way she kept regarding him every time she thought he wasn’t looking. She was at war with her precious rules, but he had a feeling he knew who would win out.
She shot him another glance as he laid his hand against the warmth of her back.
His uncle interrupted his erotic thoughts. ‘Leo, let’s take a cigar outside and let the women chat.’ Umberto gestured for him to follow him out onto the back terrace.
Leo regretfully closed the door behind them, leaving Dara inside to talk with his aunt and cousins. It was clear that his uncle knew why he was here. He had gotten him alone...now all he needed to do was appeal to the man’s logic and speed up this deal. Then he could focus on Dara.
‘So, nephew. You’ve played your hand well.’ Umberto lit a cigar, letting the smoke billow in the air between them. He offered one to Leo.
Leo refused with a wave of his hand.
Umberto huffed out a cloud of smoke, looking up at the darkening evening sky. ‘So, tell me, is using the blonde a vital part of your plan or just a little extra fun while you’re here?’
‘Dara and I have been seeing each other for a while now.’
‘Spare me the lies, Valente. You know I don’t take well to them.’ The older man scowled. ‘She’s too good for a low life like you. She’s got character.’
Leo felt a prickle of unease at the back of his neck. ‘Umberto, whatever happened between my father and you is history. I am the furthest thing from him there is.’
‘I can tell by your reputation that you have no value for family. That was Valente’s worst trait. A Sicilian man puts his family first.’
‘My choice of lifestyle is irrelevant. I am the most obvious choice for your development. It’s clear to everyone around you and yet you refuse to cut me in. I have the expertise and the resources.’
‘I’m not talking about the womanising. Although I do prefer to do business with family men who know the true meaning of responsibility.’ Umberto narrowed his eyes, glowering at Leo with a look of unbridled anger. ‘You want to know why I’m blocking this deal? I refuse to do business with someone who treats their own flesh and blood like dirt.’
Leo felt the comment cut him deep. He knew Umberto was alluding to his mother. To the way she had been treated by his father—and by Leo, to a certain extent.
‘Your father sent my sister into an early grave. The Valente name means nothing to me but selfishness and betrayal.’
‘My mother put herself into that grave, Uncle. She committed suicide. She was not the woman you think she was.’
‘She was not perfect, no. But she deserved better than to be locked away like a dirty little secret.’
Leo felt the pain of his uncle’s words cut to his core. His mother had deserved better—they both had. The only person to blame for the life they’d led was his father. But he refused to argue over a bunch of ghosts when his goal was within touching distance. Memories belonged in the past, where they couldn’t hurt anybody.
‘I’m not here to talk about ancient history. I’m here to talk about the Isola project. I thought that by coming here peacefully, healing the rift between us, we could finally see each other as equals.’
‘We will never be equals as long as a Valente owns Lucchesi land.’
Leo thought of the castello in Monterocca. His mother’s family had owned Castello Bellamo for hundreds of years until she’d married a Valente and signed it away.
He spoke quietly, aware of Umberto’s unbridled anger at what he perceived to be yet another slight on his family name. ‘I am half-Lucchesi, remember?’
Umberto shook his head.
‘My mother would not be happy to know her brother was treating her son this way, Zio.’
Umberto raised one silvery brow. ‘Don’t play on my sentimentality. It doesn’t exist.’
Leo