Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal

Gloria placed a friendly hand on Dara’s arm. Leo noted Dara’s polite smile, her gentle tone as she defused the situation with questions about Gloria’s daughters.

Umberto remained silent and continued to stare at him across the narrow hallway.

‘We will not do this here, Valente,’ he hissed.

‘Most certainly not,’ Gloria interjected. ‘It’s high time you ridiculous men quit this feud and showed each other a little forgiveness. Leonardo, I want to welcome you home to Sicily, darling. I have missed you.’

‘Thank you, Zia, I’m afraid your husband doesn’t quite feel the same.’

‘That’s an understatement,’ Umberto scoffed.

Gloria spoke directly to him. ‘Come to our villa tomorrow evening for dinner. You can talk business then. For now, let us all enjoy the rest of the evening.’ She guided her husband into the throng of people, looking back to wink at Dara.

Leo smiled at Dara. That had gone just the way he’d planned it. A private meeting attained, on Lucchesi’s home turf. But Dara frowned, turning back towards the box. Leo followed, confused at her sudden change in mood.

* * *

Dara waited until they were back in the box before turning to him. She pressed one accusatory finger into his shoulder. The gesture made his eyes widen.

‘You could have warned me that I was walking into an episode of a soap opera, for goodness’ sake.’

‘I didn’t think it would benefit the situation if you were aware of my history with Umberto.’

‘No, you didn’t think it would benefit you.’ She turned away, fuming. ‘How did I not know that you were related? How is it not common knowledge?’

‘He is my mother’s younger brother. He made a point of removing himself from any connection to the Valente name when my mother passed away.’ He spoke matter-of-factly, anger evident in the hard set of his jaw.

Dara felt her anger deflate, taken by surprise by his candid statement. ‘That must have been very difficult.’

‘My mother died quite suddenly—she was only thirty-eight. The funeral was an ugly affair, and her family blamed my father. And me.’

‘Goodness, she was very young. Life can be cruel sometimes.’

Leo waved off her gentle comments. ‘I am merely divulging the facts to you—not looking for sympathy. I’ve had twelve years to get over it.’

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his designer tuxedo, a sardonic tilt to his brow. This was a man who kept his true feelings buried. She couldn’t imagine revealing her own painful memories in such a matter-of-fact fashion.

Dara thought of the way the two men had just stood toe to toe, eyes spitting fire at one another, in the glamorous gilded hallway of the teatro.

‘Leo, I’ve helped you to get your meeting. I’ve fulfilled my part of our bargain. We agreed that I would act as your date for tonight only.’

‘I can’t go alone to dinner. You will accompany me to keep up the pretence that we are an item. Gloria likes you, and she is the key to keeping the peace.’

Dara shifted uneasily on her feet, smoothing a hand over the smooth pearl satin of her gown. She had felt like a princess earlier, walking down the steps of the palazzo to find Leo leaning against the door of the limo, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He looked sinfully handsome and powerful, and it was doing all kinds of strange things to her breathing every time he held her arm or looked at her with that smouldering dark gaze.

She needed to cut her losses before she did something stupid. One more night with Leo was a risk she couldn’t take.

He was watching her intently. ‘What is it that worries you, carina? That they won’t believe we are a couple? Because that won’t be a problem.’

‘It’s too risky. We know nothing about each other. What if they ask questions?’ she argued.

‘They won’t need to.’ He stepped closer. ‘Dara, we practically crackle every time we are alone together. The chemistry between us is quite obvious.’

‘It is?’ Dara felt a little dazed under his scrutiny.

‘Oh, yes.’ He lowered his voice. ‘We naturally react to each other. That’s not something that can be feigned easily and we can use it to our advantage.’

‘I don’t see how arguing with each other will make it seem that we are a couple.’

She turned away, fighting against herself. She was enjoying this little charade they had embarked upon. It was beginning to feel like an alternative reality to her hectic and rather solitary life in Syracuse.

‘Tension can be interpreted in many ways.’

Leo stepped behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath below her ear.

‘Physical signs are the first things that people notice. Unconscious displays of intimacy.’ He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

Dara’s breath caught in her chest at the effect of the innocent yet explosive contact on her already heightened senses.

‘So we hold hands and everything will be okay?’

‘There is no need to go over the top when subtlety will work much better. I might rest a hand on the small of your back while we talk. Display possession.’

Dara tried to focus on his words, but all she could think about was how hard and warm his hand felt surrounding hers. It had been so long since she’d had her hand held.

She shook off that warm fuzzy thought. She tried to seem blasé, barely noticing his movement until she felt his hand slide sensually low on her spine.

‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked.

‘Dara, no one will believe this if your voice rises an entire octave every time I touch you,’ he whispered in her ear as they were rejoined by the other guests in their box.

She took the opportunity to retake her seat and study the programme while she calmed her erratic breathing. The music started and Leo sat beside her. Very close beside her.

‘Let’s try this again,’ he whispered softly.

His hand came to rest upon hers in her lap, his fingers massaging the back of her palm idly, just as a lover’s might. He looked straight ahead, focusing on the beautiful performance, completely unaffected by their contact.

She was suddenly very aware of her breathing as she tried to concentrate on the stage below.

His fingers laced through hers as his head tilted and he whispered in her ear. ‘Much better, Dara, a perfect balance between quiet disdain and shivering anticipation.’

‘I did not shiver,’ she hissed, turning to find his eyes filled with mirth.

The couple next to them tutted with disapproval.

‘You’re being deliberately disruptive.’ She shook her head, focusing on the show below.

‘I can’t help it.’ He tilted his head again, his attention now completely focused on her.

‘Well, try harder,’ she scolded, folding her hands in her lap tightly. ‘This isn’t the place to teach me how to lie effectively. I haven’t even agreed to continue this little charade.’

‘You’re right.’ He stood up, grabbing her by the hand and speaking quietly to the couple behind them. ‘Excuse us—my beautiful companion isn’t quite feeling herself.’ He pulled her up from her seat easily and motioned for her to precede him out through the door of the box.

Dara exited into the corridor, turning to face him as he closed the door behind him. ‘I didn’t mean that we had to leave,’ she said, exasperated.

‘My attention wasn’t exactly on the show.’ He stepped closer. ‘Something occurred to me in there.’

Dara watched as he took another step, bringing him so close they were almost chest to chest. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he leaned closer, his gaze sweeping over her lips with clear intent. The thought occurred to her that she was going to let him kiss her. Even worse—she wanted him to.

‘What occurred to you?’ she whispered, her tongue sneaking out to dampen her lips before she could stop herself.

He followed the movement eagerly. ‘You have no reason to help me after tonight.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ She shook off the feeling of disappointment at his words. He was correct. After tonight they had no reason to continue to work together except for maybe exchanging emails about the castello.

‘What if I offered you more than a contract for your celebrity wedding?’ he asked quietly.

Dara felt her pulse quicken at the word more.

‘I’ve been thinking... The castle is virtually abandoned, with no purpose. Your vision for this wedding will bring vitality to it again. It might even help bring some revenue to Monterocca. God knows they need it, being so far from the busier tourist resorts.’

‘I’m flattered you paid so much attention to my slideshow.’ She smiled.

‘I can offer you exclusive rights to hold a small amount of select weddings at the castello. I will hire you to oversee the renovations and ensure it is fit for purpose again.’

‘Leo, that would be...amazing...’ she breathed.

‘I want nothing more to do with the place once this deal is finalised. So it’s not a selfless act. I trust that you will do a good job, Dara?’

‘I assure you that you will have nothing to worry about,’ she gushed, the excitement of his revelation taking her completely by surprise.

‘You will accompany me tomorrow evening, then?’ he said plainly.

Dara laughed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to now.’

‘It will be the last thing I ask of you.’

His expression was earnest as they made their way down the corridor to the grand hallway and out towards the waiting car.

The thought of spending another evening as the focus of his attention, of having him touch her and speak to her like a lover, made her feel uneasy.

She stayed silent on the drive back to the apartment, her thoughts still frazzled from their encounter in the opera box. He had barely touched her and she’d been on the verge of throwing herself at him. She had been so sure he was about to kiss her in the corridor.

The fear of being branded a liar by Umberto Lucchesi was nothing compared to the fear of being kissed by Leo Valente. He hadn’t kissed her yet, but with an entire evening planned in his company tomorrow, surely it was inevitable that he would.

It had been so long since she had kissed anyone she was afraid she’d forgotten how to do it. Maybe it was best to treat it as a task. She never went into tasks unprepared. She would treat it like pulling off a sticking plaster. Quick and painless. After all, the fear of the unknown was usually worse than the act itself.

When they entered the apartment Leo pulled off his bow tie in one movement, throwing it on a side table and moving towards the door of his bedroom.

‘Wait.’ She spoke as confidently as she could muster. ‘I just want to try something first.’

On steady feet she walked to him, seeing his eyes widen as she stepped close. Her lips touched his—hesitantly at first, then fully. He smelled amazing this close, and his lips were hard and hot under hers. She stepped back before she could get too comfortable, feeling her legs tremble just a little bit as she put some distance between them once more.

‘There—that’s the awkward first kiss over and done with.’ She smiled, proud of herself for finding a logical way to deal with an uncomfortable situation.

Leo stayed silent for a moment, his expression entirely unreadable. Then he took a step, closing the space between them. ‘If you wanted to try it out, all you had to do was ask, Dara.’

‘It was just a practice run. For tomorrow.’ She felt her body react as he closed in once more. As if her skin remembered him, was begging him to step closer again. What on earth had come over her?

‘In that case I think we need another try.’

His lips were on hers before she could formulate a reply. But this kiss was not simple and exploratory, as hers had been. His mouth was hard on hers, his lips pressing with an urgency she had never felt before. She felt it too. It was as though the entire world had fallen away and all that mattered was this. Feeling his mouth on hers, his hands wrapping around her waist.

His wicked tongue traced a trail of fire across her lips, demanding access. She tried to think straight. This was all wrong. It had started as a simple kiss and now suddenly she was being ravished.

She tilted her head back and he took advantage. His hands moved from her waist down to her bottom, holding her to him. She had never felt awareness like this before. The feel of his hard chest against her own made her nipples peak with need. Her breasts felt heavy, aching with the demand to be in the open air. She felt wanton and free and prayed her sanity wouldn’t return any time soon. She let her own tongue move against his, following the rhythm and feeling the hard weight of his arousal press against her.

He began kissing a passionate trail of fire down the soft skin of her neck. Dara moaned at the sensation, shocked at the sensation of molten heat building between her thighs.

She wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man before. His smell, his touch was driving her so wild she could barely think. All she could hear was the sound of her heart beating loud in her ears. His breath was equally as ragged as he nibbled her earlobe and pulled the neckline of her dress down so that it rested high on her waist.

Dara felt her body react reflexively, softening to him, unconsciously offering more. Cohesive thought left her as she gave in to the warmth of his hard muscular body surrounding her. He pushed against her shoulders until she was lying on the plush sofa in the living room. His mouth lowered to the sensitive skin of her breasts and the last remnant of her resolve seemed to melt away. All she could feel was him and the wild, primal movements of his lips and teeth as they tasted and teased her.

His tongue circled one tip as his thumb and forefinger slowly tortured the other. She writhed under his touch, her hips arching up to meet the hard ridge below his abdomen.

He raised his head to kiss her once more, his lips softer this time as he continued to tease one nipple with his fingers. His hand moved lower, tracing a path down her stomach to her lower thigh. He pulled the silken material of her dress up so that it bunched around her hips. His fingers were stroking up the skin of her thigh as his lips continued to demand brutal response from her own. She grabbed a fistful of thick dark hair, feeling a wave of triumph as he growled and kissed her harder.

His hand caressed her, higher still, cupping her over the thin lace of her underwear. She felt her stomach clench in response and raised her hips to meet him, feeling his fingers press against that sensitive part of her through the gauzy material. She needed his skin on hers—needed the release that she could feel building.

He growled low in his throat as she put her hand over his, guiding him towards the edge of the French lace, begging him to reach inside. His hands were everywhere...his lips were in her ear murmuring something incomprehensible in Italian.

He stilled momentarily, his hips pressed hard against her as she lay spread underneath him on the sofa. ‘Dio, you make me forget myself,’ he breathed harshly. ‘We have to slow down for a moment... I need to get some protection from the bedroom.’ He traced 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 was exasperated. The man was just throwing block after block at him, leaving no room to negotiate. ‘What must I do to prove myself?’

‘You know what I want. The same thing I told your father I wanted the day he put my sister in the ground.’

Leo ran a hand down his face. He’d had a feeling it might come to this. ‘The castello is my birthright.’

‘It was built with Lucchesi blood. My family have far more right to Bellamo.’

‘You’re asking me to part with the place I called home for most of my childhood.’

‘If it holds such sentimental value for you why have you left it to rot? You want in on the Isola project? You know what I want.’

The older man walked back inside, leaving Leo alone on the terrace with nothing but the sound of the waves rushing against the rocks in the gulf.

Too much quiet made him irritable, and he was grateful when Dara came to find him moments later.

‘How did it go?’ she enquired.

‘As well as I imagined it would.’ He shrugged. ‘He has made it clear what it will take to let me in on the deal.’

‘Is it something you can do?’ she asked innocently, handing him a glass of wine.

‘It would complicate a lot of things. Upset some people.’

He thought of Dara’s face when he told her of his plan for the castello. He had heard her on the phone to her client, confirming their contract details. He had offered Dara a complete solution to her problems—a chance to further her business to the next level and avoid ruin. How was he going to tell her that he had to take it all away?