Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal
shifted back on his lap, her cheeks rosy from the effects of her orgasm. Her shy smile was breathtaking as she reached down, placing her hand on the hard ridge of his jeans and biting her lower lip as he groaned in response.
Seeing, once again, how much he affected her was more than he could handle. It was like a drug. Now that he had tried it, he just wanted more. The thought of taking her here on the back seat of the limo, in the darkness, almost made him come on the spot.
With extreme restraint Leo placed his hand on top of Dara’s, just as she began to lower the zip of his jeans.
She froze, confused as to why they were stopping.
‘We are just about to arrive back at the palazzo,’ he said, smiling at her evident disappointment.
He had succeeded in his efforts to seduce her. She was now his for the taking. And yet he felt the unfamiliar tug of his conscience, threatening to rain down on his lust.
Dara slid off his lap and began closing the buttons of her white blouse with shaky fingers. Her hair was in a tangle around her shoulders...her skirt had twisted around her waist. He had ravished her in the back seat of a moving vehicle and now, in true Valente fashion, he was planning on taking what he wanted before casting her aside.
She would want nothing more to do with him if he took his uncle’s deal. Umberto’s words repeated in his mind: he was just like his father. The thought gave the same effect as if he had just doused himself with ice water.
She smiled seductively at him as they walked side by side up the marble steps of the palazzo.
Leo hesitated just inside the doorway. ‘I think...that you should make your own way up from here.’ He avoided her eyes.
‘You’re not coming upstairs?’ she asked, confused at his sudden coldness. She’d clearly presumed they would continue their encounter, after what had just occurred in the limo.
She didn’t realise that it was taking every fibre of his self-control not to carry her up to that ridiculously erotic bed of hers and make love to her all night long. Her lips were rosy from his kisses, her hair deliciously mussed. And once again that lacy bra was taunting him through her crisp white shirt.
‘I have some things to get done before we head down to Ragusa tomorrow.’
He avoided her gaze, motioning to the valet, who handed him the keys to his Porsche. A drive might clear his head of this ridiculous guilt. And rid him of the ghosts that taunted his every thought.
‘Will you be gone long?’ she asked.
Leo continued to walk away, refusing to turn around in case he changed his mind. ‘I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, Dara. Sleep well.’
* * *
Their drive to the province of Ragusa was made mostly in silence, except for a brief stop for lunch at a roadside café. In less than three hours they reached the shores of the Ionian sea, and a further twenty minutes saw them make their way up the long stretch of coastal road and enter the small sleepy town of Monterocca.
They continued around the winding road to where the cliffs began to lower to sandy beaches and small fishing docks. As they turned the final bend around the headland Dara took a deep intake of breath. It was spectacular.
The castle stood high on a rocky promontory, dominating the surrounding landscape with its high turrets and imposing boundary walls. As they drove through the stone pillared entry Dara felt suddenly dwarfed by the enormity of the place.
She had only seen pictures before now, and photographs were nothing when confronted with the real thing. The stone walls seemed to glow pink in some places, with medieval turrets providing the highest points. The long straight avenue from the main road was rough and untamed. Wild foliage seemed to sweep in and engulf the car entirely at some points. Finally they reached a wide cobbled courtyard with a circular fountain set in the middle. Crumbling statues stood haphazardly all around, some missing their heads, some missing entire limbs.
Dara stepped out of the car and craned her neck to look up at the majestic stonework that decorated the entrance. This close, she could see the complete disrepair the castle had been left in. Chunks of stone had fallen down from the walls in some places. The windows seemed black with dust, and grime and weeds grew from every crevice. All the same, it was a powerful feeling to be surrounded by so much history.
‘This place is breathtaking.’ She sighed, busy taking in every tiny detail of the facade. She pointed to a wing that stretched out at an unusual angle from the main square tower. ‘This part isn’t medieval, is it?’ she asked curiously. Her knowledge of architecture was pretty basic—she generally left historical details to the experts.
He rounded the car to stand next to her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the door. ‘The whole place is just one big patchwork of various eras. I never thought it was particularly beautiful.’
She shook her head with disbelief. ‘How can you say that? It’s the imperfections that make it so eye-catching.’
He was wearing sunglasses, but she could still see the sardonic tilt of his brow as he turned to face her. ‘So your Hollywood actress is booking it based on all its eye-catching imperfections, is that right?’
‘Actually, I think she wants it because her first film was about a Sicilian prince. They filmed in Palermo, but that particular castle was demolished. This one is apparently quite similar.’ She shrugged. ‘Either way, I don’t argue with good publicity.’
He made a grunting sound of accord and took a set of keys from his pocket. He didn’t speak another word, still in the same distracted mood as the night before.
They made their way inside the main entryway to a great hall with a ceiling that had to be at least three storeys high. The windows were so filthy, barely any light could get in.
Leo had told her that the housekeeping team consisted of a local woman, Maria, and her husband, who took care of basic tasks. From what she could tell they had just done their best to stop the grounds from being overrun with weeds and keep the dust as minimal as possible with the castle closed up for so long.
‘Right, let’s get this over with,’ Leo said roughly.
Dara took out the clipboard she had brought with her to take notes, shrugging when he looked at her curiously. ‘I thought I might as well jot down my ideas as we go.’
‘Always so efficient.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t fall behind. Believe me, you will get lost.’
Their voices echoed loudly off the high stone walls as he showed her around the lower level of the main wing. The place was huge, and already she knew she really would be lost in a moment if she didn’t follow closely behind him.
She ran her finger along a dusty sideboard, looking upon a row of small framed photographs of a young Leo. He was curly-haired, with emerald-green eyes, smiling mischievously into the camera.
Dara couldn’t help but smile down at the photos. ‘I cannot believe you lived in a place like this as a child. It must have been one big adventure, day after day.’
He followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing on the photos of his childhood self. ‘It wasn’t anything like you would expect.’
He carried on down the hallway, naming each room in a bored monotone as they passed through.
They made their way up the sweeping staircase and Dara began to amble down the corridors more slowly behind her grumpy guide. She wanted to look at the place properly—not just power through at lightning speed.
She stopped as they passed right by a set of large double doors. She knew from the rest of the castle that it would lead to yet another private wing.
‘You never said what’s through this way,’ she called to him as he continued to stride down the hall ahead of her.
‘That one is off-limits. Keep moving.’ He stopped at