Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal
in order for her to arrange the renovations. How could any area be off-limits?
‘This is beginning to sound like a scene from a really lame fairy tale. Is that where the beast lives?’ She chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
She could see his silhouette, unmoving at the end of the hall, one hand resting on a side table as he waited for her to follow him. She felt frustration bubble to the surface. He had been extremely irritable all morning, and since arriving at the castle he had stopped interacting with her completely. He clearly wasn’t up to doing this job properly, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t get it done.
‘I need to get a look at the whole place. No exceptions.’
She turned the handle of the door to the wing slowly, watching to see his reaction. He didn’t budge as the sound of the hinges creaking open echoed through the hall.
Well, he could suit himself, then, she thought stubbornly. He could stay out here in his bad mood all he wanted.
Clutching her clipboard, she threw the doors wide and continued through to the mysterious forbidden wing.
* * *
Leo stood frozen in the hallway, listening as Dara’s footsteps echoed through his past. He’d told her not to go there. Of course she hadn’t listened. She was hell-bent on dredging up every memory this godforsaken place had to offer.
His initial view of the castle hadn’t bothered him as much as he had thought it would. After twelve years he still remembered every window, every crack in the facade. He had vowed to remain emotionless and logical. It was a building—not a demon. He would show her around in a practical fashion, get the building work arranged and then make an effort to apologise for last night.
After his meeting with Umberto, and all their talk of this place, he had found himself momentarily regretting his pursuit of Dara. His uncle’s deal was tempting, but agreeing to it meant lying and double-crossing.
He shouldn’t care about hurting her. He should have just taken what she had clearly been ready to offer. But something in him had stalled, and he had spent the night driving furiously up a myriad of coastal roads, then returning to the palazzo once he’d been sure she had gone to bed.
He turned back towards the doors she had disappeared through. He wasn’t going down there. There was only so much he could take in one day. This castle housed more than just his own cold childhood memories.
A loud bang came from down the corridor, and a woman’s scream. Damn it, Dara, he thought angrily as he took off through to the largest wing of the castle, down the long carpeted corridor and into the grand master bedroom where his parents had once slept.
Dara stood on one of the ghostly covered chairs, her eyes darting around the floor wildly. ‘Sorry, there were rats on the bed!’ she squeaked, holding her battered clipboard like a shield in front of her. ‘Bloody huge ones.’ She shuddered.
Leo’s eyes swept across to the large bed that dominated the room. A high majestic canopy flowed down from the ceiling to rest on the four-poster. His mother had imported it from Paris. He remembered her boasting about it to one of her friends. It had belonged to a queen. That had been his mother, she had always been fascinated by royalty.
The weight of long-suppressed memories was beginning to crush his self-restraint. He needed to get out of this castle now...before he lost his mind.
‘I told you not to come in here,’ he growled, watching as her eyes went wide. ‘Get down from the damned chair. There are no rats.’
Dara lowered one foot to the floor, still anxiously scanning the perimeter of the dark room.
‘There were at least three of them. They scurried off when I dropped my clipboard...’ she said, her knuckles white as chalk as she held up the makeshift shield.
‘I don’t give a damn about rats. The place is likely infested with all kinds of vermin.’
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the memories threatening to engulf him. Lifeless brown eyes, staring into nothing...
‘I will need to make sure that all the rooms have been cleared before we can consult the restoration contractor,’ she rambled on beside him, unaware of his inner turmoil. ‘Leo, are you even listening to me? We need to note all the details—’
She stepped closer and he turned to her without warning.
‘Just stop with your details for once and get the hell out of this room.’ His voice was harsh and he watched her eyes widen with shock.
‘Leo... I’m sorry if I’ve said something to bother you.’
‘I’m fine,’ he gritted. ‘I need to go find the housekeeper. You can finish the rest of the tour by yourself.’
He turned on his heel and strode from the room. It took all his strength not to run as if he was being chased by the ghosts that plagued his memory.
He should never have come back to this place. It made him feel things he’d vowed never to feel again. But it wasn’t Dara’s fault that he was on edge, and he made a mental note to make it up to her once he’d got his temper under control.
* * *
After three hours spent cataloguing every room of the castello Dara needed a shower. Badly. Out of the entire estate only three bedrooms were kept open and maintained, along with the kitchen, one of the dining rooms and a downstairs salon. Every other room was closed up, its furniture sheathed in ghostly white dust covers.
Still, it was rather magical, being the only person wandering around a place filled with so much character. Leo had left the castle entirely, leaving a message with the housekeeper to tell her that they would be having dinner at six. His desertion didn’t faze her. She’d enjoyed her time alone with her work. The thought of all of the possibilities that this place held made her giddy as she chose a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom and set about having a hot shower to wash off all the dust.
Weddings could be held here in any season, she mused as she towel-dried her hair into soft waves at the gilt dressing table by the bed. Outdoor summer ceremonies overlooking the cliffs...candlelit winter feasts in the ballroom. She really did adore her job, and she knew she could make this castello beautiful again—bring it back to life. Not only would she be known for planning the wedding of the year, but she would also have exclusive rights to one of the most sought-after venues in the country.
Once she had dressed, in a simple black wrap dress and her trusty heels, she made her way down to the dining room for dinner.
Leo stood at the fireplace, stepping forward as she entered the room.
‘Glad to see you’ve returned.’ She breezed past him, determined not to show how his continued coldness was affecting her.
Leo helped her into one of the chairs at the end of a ridiculously long banquet table. ‘I hope you’re hungry? Maria has outdone herself.’
Their place settings were side by side—much more convenient than having to shout across the room to one another along the length of the table.
‘This is quite intimate for a simple meal.’ She poured herself a glass of wine, noticing that each of the antique candelabra had been lit around the room. The overall effect was beautiful, and strangely romantic. ‘All we’re missing is a violinist and I’d feel like a real aristocrat,’ she joked.
‘I’ll make a note of that.’ He smiled as Maria began serving an array of delicately prepared seafood.
The smell of lemon-drizzled prawns filled the air, to be followed by pesce spada and oven-roasted vegetables. Swordfish was her personal favourite since moving to Sicily.
They spoke of Dara’s thoughts on the renovations, and Leo listened intently to her excited plans. By the time the housekeeper cleared their plates Dara’s hunger had been well and truly satisfied.
Leo finished off his glass of