Page 191 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

‘Thank you.’ The words were ground from between his firm lips, but Rae could hear the relief in them and that strength of feeling had her mind humming with curiosity about his past once more. Why did Palazzo Ricci mean so very much to him? How had it ended up becoming his home and Elena his guardian? What had happened to his parents? Why hadn’t they kept him?

They were just a few of the questions niggling away at her brain, but Rae had so many more that she would have loved the answers to and maybe, she thought with a flicker of interest, the following months would give her the opportunity to find those answers. That would certainly be an added and worthwhile bonus, especially if it helped her put to rest her relationship with him.

Rae got to her feet, adopting a straight-backed pose as she quickly worked out the necessary practicalities. ‘I’ll go back to London, tie up some ends there and be back in a few days.’

Confusion pulled Domenico’s dark brows together as he rose too. ‘What do you mean, you will go back to London?’ He shook his head. ‘You can’t leave, Rae.’

‘I need to. For starters, these are the only clothes I have with me...’ she began, gesturing to the garments adorning her body.

‘There are plenty of shops here in Venice,’ he cut in with impatience and frustration. ‘And your wardrobe at the palazzo has not been touched.’

The thought of slipping back into the clothes of that past life left Rae cold. She had no desire or intention to go backwards and as such his implacable, inconsiderate interruption had her gritting her teeth and replying with forced patience. ‘I have responsibilities in London. I’m not prepared to just abandon them.’

His brows pleated even tighter, his eyes darkening as her refusal to fall in line registered. He’d never known her to be anything other than amenable and accommodating to his wishes and the change was so disconcerting to him, he couldn’t hide it.

But then his eyes narrowed. ‘What responsibilities?’ he questioned.

‘A job. Bills. My sisters.’

Domenico continued to assess her, thoughts whizzing across his eyes like shooting stars and his jaw tightening in uneasy consideration. ‘Is a man the source of this need to return to London so quickly?’

‘What?’ Rae very nearly laughed, so outrageous was the thought.

He moved in a step closer. ‘You heard me.’

She shook her head, still fighting the urge to laugh, which was so at odds with the severity of his expression. ‘No. There’s no one.’

‘Because I will not be made a fool of by you for the second time, and that is exactly the type of detail that would undermine my claim and make this whole charade for nothing. So, if that is the case, you need to tell me now,’ he commanded with godlike presumption.

Provoked by both his words and his tone, Rae stepped up to him, tilting her head back so their eyes collided, hers fizzing with anger whilst his remained darkly unyielding.

‘Firstly, I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want to,’ she began audaciously, ‘in much the same way you never told me anything you didn’t want to. But, on this occasion, I am prepared to tell you that there is no one. Secondly, this isn’t a negotiation,’ she said, her spine and her stance strengthening with her newly acquired confidence and conviction. ‘Iamgoing back to London. I’ll be gone forty-eight hours, three days at the most. Then I’ll be back and the masquerade can begin.’

Domenico stared back at her, looking stunned and momentarily lost for words, and Rae enjoyed the ripples of her victory, because not many people could render Domenico Ricci speechless.

He composed himself within a few seconds, however, and an echo of a smile played at the edges of his too sensual mouth as he responded. ‘Bene.You will go to London.’ Rae opened her mouth to tell him that she had neither asked for nor required his permission, but he held up a hand and continued in his low, silken drawl. ‘However, you won’t be going alone. I’ll accompany you,’ he asserted, reaching out to tug her closer, into the shadow cast by his body, until there was very little space separating them, ‘because,cara, the masquerade starts now.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THERICCIPRIVATEJETtouched down in London the following morning. On Domenico’s instruction a car was waiting on the tarmac to drive them to the luxurious central hotel in which he had reserved a suite and they passed the drive through the capital in the same way they had spent the flight from Venice—in silence.

Domenico had plenty of things he could say, but he refused to give Rae the satisfaction of knowing how deeply her departure four months ago had bothered him. So he’d bitten his tongue and busied himself with work, fighting the rising urge to sit back, rest his eyes on her in the seat opposite and enjoy all the loveliness of her the way he often used to.

In her simple outfit of jeans, plain tee and well-worn leather jacket she looked beautiful, and he loathed her for it. Loathed the way the clothes hugged her slender figure, highlighting her hourglass curves and making him desperate to run his hands over them. Loathed how her freshly washed hair shone and curled over her shoulders, calling to him to once again bury his fingers in its lustrous length, to curl it around his hand and gently tilt her head back until her mouth was ripe to receive his kiss.

Once in the car, Domenico stared out of the window rather than look at her, but every so often her reflection would appear in the dark glass and he would tense at the onslaught of longing stirred by her full lips and piercing eyes. It would be so easy to reach across and haul her onto his lap, he ruminated, to grind his groin against her and settle the ache hammering there, and it bothered him how large the idea loomed in his mind and how excited by it his body became.

Why did he continue to suffer this infernal attraction to her? Imagining all the ways he could drive her to make those delicious mewls of delight he so loved, and all the ways she could enchant him with her hands and lips and tongue. Rae had made it clear she had no love or respect for him. And that inequality of feeling infuriated him, stirring memories of another time he had yearned for something with every bone in his body...and the crushing rejection that had followed.

He’d always been fascinated by the idea of his mother. Elena had shielded him from the truth of how she came to raise him, simply telling him that his mother had had to leave him in her care, and so as a young, vividly imaginative boy he’d built a thousand scenarios around that mysterious mother figure, imagining all the possible reasons why she’d had to leave him and how it would be when she returned. When he’d finally learned her identity and seen a photograph of her she’d been even more beautiful than he’d imagined and, with a real face to revolve around, his daydreams had grown even grander. When he’d heard she was in Venice, those dreams had seemed on the verge of coming true. He’d been sure that she was there for him. To see him. Claim him. But when they had finally come face to face, she’d shown none of the joy that he’d dreamt of. Her eyes, when they had finally come to rest on him, had turned cold and cruel, before she turned her face away, as though she didn’t know him at all.

The incident had left him crushed and reeling, but he’d been too foolish, too full of hope, to learn his lesson and he’d gone to find her at her home. He had begged, he remembered with nauseating clarity, for a moment of her time, a conversation, that was all, but the rejection had been swift and brutal. The look that chased him away had told him he was nothing. Less than nothing. It was a look that, until Rae, had prevented him from ever getting too close to anyone.

However, he was older now. Wiser. And this situation with Rae would not be the same, he reassured himself. He was capable of ignoring the inclinations of his body and the messages being telegraphed by his recklessly beating heart, and even more reckless libido. All he wanted from her was her cooperation to ensure he inherited Palazzo Ricci. He harboured no hopes and he would not bebeggingfor anything.

That was Domenico’s last thought before they pulled up outside the hotel. They were checked in quickly, his name prompting a flurry of activity, but as soon as they entered the confined space of the elevator, Rae’s gentle scent hit him like a punch, making him question that resolve as it took him right back to their most intimate moments, when he was deep inside her and the world began and ended with her. To the way she moved atop him, covering his body with her own, silencing his groans with kisses, fogging his mind with that light-as-air scent—herscent.

The moment they entered the suite he strode over to the terrace doors and pushed them open, partly to assess the view but mostly to flood the room with clean spring air and dilute the potency of her presence. Feeling fatigued, though it was only just past noon, Domenico availed himself of the top-of-the-line coffee machine and then carried his very strong espresso out onto the terrace. He was sipping at his coffee when he noticed Rae emerging from the far side of the suite and heading for the door, her jacket on and bag hanging from her shoulder.

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