CHAPTER TWO

DOMENICOPROWLEDAROUND the gilded darkness of the palazzo like a restless animal. There was too much emotion coursing through his body for him to rest easily, either asleep or awake. The hours he had just spent in his private gym, pushing himself on the treadmill and punching until his knuckles felt raw, had succeeded in exhausting his muscles but had failed to rid him of his aggravating emotions.

Damn Rae.

Damn her for leaving and damn her for coming back.

He had far too many other matters in need of careful handling to be giving any thought to the wife who had walked out on him, and yet from the moment he had turned away from the window and settled his hard eyes on her, his only thoughts had been of her body. Wrapped around him. Welcoming him inside her.

He had very much wanted to sweep her onto his desk, part her legs, slip into the warm space between her thighs and bury himself inside her. He craved the velvet welcome her body had always offered, her muscles contracting and then clenching around him, her sweet heat enveloping him, urging him to sink deeper. He had been shaking with the force of the wanting, and the effort required to resist it.

Because he refused to want her. After the way she had abandoned him, desiring her was not an option.

But there had never been anything tame or cooperative about his feelings for Rae. The first time he'd seen her, standing outside Venice's airport, looking unbelievably attractive in an all-black ensemble, the natural highlights in her chestnut hair glinting in the low sun, he had wanted her immediately. Wanted to know who she was and to have her in his bed. Beneath him. On top of him. And in the hundred other ways flying through his mind. The potency of the desire had stopped him in his tracks on the busy pavement, bludgeoning all other thoughts from his mind, and the charge that had rocked his big body had been so electrifying it was as though he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning.

That fevered desire for her hadn't abated as he had expected it to, as had been usual in his previous relationships—if they could really be called that. Far from satisfying the craving, claiming her body as his own had only intensified his hunger for her and very quickly that scorching want had morphed into a need that he hadn't seen coming.

A need to keep her close. A need for her smile and her piercing blue eyes to be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes each morning. A need to have the warmth of her body beside his all day, every day.

None of his past relationships had triggered anything so domestic in him, but none of those women had given him what Rae had seemed to be giving—her wholehearted acceptance and warmth and love. Oh, she hadn't said the words, but Domenico had known she was falling in love with him. Knew it by the way her eyes tracked his movements, by the way she took every opportunity to touch him—light brushes of her hand, tender grazes of her lips—and by the way she snuggled in close at night.

It had been addictive, so much so that Domenico had actually been unhappy about their affair ending when it was time for Rae to return home, but he hadn't expected that melancholy mood to last for more than a day, two at the most. To his surprise, however, he'd found himself missing her at all kinds of odd moments, missing her so much that eventually he'd given in and hopped on a jet to London. He'd surprised her when she finished work, waiting outside the bridal boutique where she was a consultant, and the smile that had lit her face when she'd spotted him had been dazzling. He couldn't remember a time when someone other than Elena had been that happy to see him, and as she'd thrown herself into his arms Domenico had felt something tight and knotted within him loosen, certain in that moment that life would be better if Rae was always by his side. Lowering her to the ground, he'd gazed down at her and said, ‘Marry me...' the words bubbling up inside him.

Her response had been instantaneous. ‘Yes.'

Four weeks later they had been married in Venice. Domenico had refused to wait any longer than that, wanting the marriage to be official as quickly as possible, wanting their claim on each other to be inviolable, wanting that new chapter of his life with a wife who loved him and would always be at his side to begin.

As the recollections crashed through his mind, Domenico cursed under his breath, hating the memories and their power. Hating his own stupidity. Had he really believed that Rae had loved him above all else and in a way that no one had loved him before? It seemed laughable now and he was riddled with detestation for his own pathetic weakness. For allowing himself to be so caught up in how good it felt to be wanted by someone, to be claimed by them for all to witness. After being rejected by his mother and never formally adopted by Elena, marriage to Rae had given him something that he'd never had before—acceptance and validation. Belonging.

But to be given something and then have it ripped away...that was crueller than never knowing it in the first place, and that was exactly what Rae had done.

Never again would he put himself at the mercy of another human being. Never again would he trust. The only silver lining to Rae's betrayal was that it had awoken him to his own weaknesses and in many ways that had been worth all the pain...

The pain of returning home, aching to see her face and feel her soft hands smooth over his tight shoulders, only to learn she was gone, that she had left him...stopped loving him...rejected him.

It was only as Domenico came to a sudden stop to pause the wayward trajectory of his thoughts and the leaden kicks of his heart that he took in his surroundings and realised that, whilst lost in his memories, he had paced up to Elena's suite of rooms on the second highest floor of the palazzo. In spite of his many pleas to her to relocate to a lower floor to make her movements less arduous, she had consistently refused, unwilling to give up her views of the city or the rooms that had been hers since she'd moved into the palazzo as a young bride. The memory made him ache deep in his chest and Domenico was on the verge of turning away, as it was still way too soon for him to be able to go near her personal space, when he noticed the door was ajar and a slice of light was spilling through the crack.

Eyes narrowed in query, he reached for the door, but suddenly it was pulled open from the other side and Rae emerged, her movements stilling and eyes flying wide when she saw him standing there.

Domenico suppressed a growl. Was there no escape from her? Was she determined to haunt him in his own house as well as his mind?

‘I'm sorry,' she said, frozen in the doorway like a rabbit in the headlights. She was dressed in a short silk pyjama set, her hair contained in the same low ponytail she'd worn earlier. He had always preferred her hair down, loose and spilling over her shoulders for his fingers to run through, and from the early days of their relationship he'd liked her to come to bed in something he'd enjoy ripping off, and whilst this was definitely not that, he found himself growing hard as his eyes devoured every inch of her. ‘I didn't mean to intrude. I just... I couldn't sleep and I was thinking about Elena and I wanted to feel close to her and say some kind of goodbye so I came up here...' She swallowed as she took in his unchanging expression. ‘But that was clearly the wrong thing to do. I'm sorry. I'm leaving.'

Domenico's instinct was to send her scurrying away even faster with the rebuke that had she not left she wouldn't need to say a goodbye, but then he noticed the emotion sparkling in her eyes and the reproach melted on his tongue. He knew Rae had loved and respected Elena enormously and that in many ways his aunt had filled the void left by the loss of her parents. One of Rae's favourite things had been exploring Elena's cavernous closet, studying her one-of-a-kind gowns, and Elena had delighted in regaling her with the story of each one. Her sudden death had to be stirring up difficult memories for Rae.

‘It's fine. You're entitled to say goodbye to her. I know how much you cared for her and Elena was incredibly fond of you too. Don't rush away on my account,' he said with a sigh that was wrenched from him, because the sudden tenderness of feeling was so unwanted.

‘Thank you.' Her mouth opened, only for her to hesitate before deciding to press on. ‘Did Elena... I'm not aware of how she passed away...and I was just wondering if she suffered.'

‘The pathologist said it was most likely an aneurism. That it would have been fast, almost instantaneous. Painless. She probably wouldn't have known.'

‘Good. I'm glad. I'd hate to think that she'd been in any pain.'

Her gaze shimmered again and something erupted in Domenico's chest, a feeling of such power it felt as if his lungs were being squeezed by giant hands. He'd always hated to see Rae upset, the sight slicing right to the heart of him, and acting on the instinct firing up from a place deep within him, he reached out, curling his hand to her cheek and tenderly wiping away the tears with his thumb.

A shudder ran across his chest as the feel of the warm silk of her skin had an even bolder surge of desire pumping through his veins, forcing him to remember just how long it had been since he had satisfied his carnal cravings, since he had lost himself in the tight heat of a woman's body. If there was ever a time he could do with drowning himself in someone else, this was it. And he had never generated a more compelling heat than the one he did with Rae...

Instinct flared again, more primal than before, and Domenico lowered his thumb, tracing it across her pillow-soft lower lip, and the pure blue of her eyes exploded with a hunger that set them aflame.

With such potent desire hammering within him and forcing everything else from his mind, including all his reasons for loathing her, all Domenico could feel was his impatient pounding want. Raising his other hand, he captured her face between his palms and with one, two, three easy steps he had her backed against the nearest wall. Her dazed eyes held his as he stared hungrily down at her, his heart and pulse pounding in perfect synchronisation as his gaze traced the shape of her face—her flushed cheeks, her delicate jaw, her parted lips.

‘Domenico...'

Was that a warning or a plea? He didn't know, or care, because his name on her tongue, in her whispered breath, nearly undid him. All he needed to do was press in a centimetre closer, lower his mouth, and he could ease the agitated ache beating in his blood and taste her on his lips again—a taste he had been craving ever since she'd left.

He froze, that final thought echoing around his brain. She had left him.

So what the hell was he doing?

With a quiet growl of frustration, he pulled himself back, putting distance between their bodies and trying to smother his heavy breaths. ‘It's late. You should go back to your room, get some sleep. You've had a long day,' he instructed, sounding far more in control than he felt.

Rae blinked slowly, the daze slowly draining from her gaze. ‘Yes, you're right. I should do that.' Slowly, almost unsteadily, she peeled herself off the wall, colour still flaming in her cheeks. She moved gingerly towards the staircase. ‘Goodnight.'

‘Buona notte,'he rasped, raking a hand through his hair and willing the beating of his blood to subside.

When it didn't, he marched back to his suite and straight into the shower, setting the temperature as cold as it would go, cold enough to kill entirely the traitorous desire that continued to burn in his blood.

The reading of Elena's will would take place in one of the large salons on the ground floor of the palazzo. It was not customary to have such a formal reading where Rae hailed from—they'd read her father's will around the kitchen table—but there was nothing regular about the Ricci family. Wealth and status like theirs, she'd long ago learned, demanded grander formalities. So, at five minutes to ten, Rae unsteadily descended the staircase, armed with her plan to slip in unnoticed, take a seat near the door and leave as soon as the proceedings were over. Her small case was already packed and waiting by the main door, so she didn't have to spend any longer in the palazzo than was necessary.

Her hopes were dashed almost immediately. The moment Rae entered the grand room, Alessandra excused herself from the conversation she was in and made straight for her, greeting her with a friendly smile and a kiss to each cheek.

‘I have a seat for you,' she announced.

‘Oh, I was just going to find somewhere here at the back...' Rae began, motioning to the very last row of seats, but Alessandra was shaking her head.

‘Absolutely not. You're family, Rae. And family sits at the front.'

‘I'm not sure Domenico will like that,' she replied tightly.

‘This isn't about him. It's about Elena,' Alessandra parried, gesturing for Rae to follow her to the front of the salon and indicating a chair on the front row, right next to the seat occupied by the broad shoulders and proud back of Domenico. He was dressed in another black suit, neat and exquisitely fitted to his broad form, and he looked exceptional, far more so than anyone in a state of grief should.

‘Are you going to sit on the chair or just continue to stare at it?' Domenico posed with a dark arch of his brow and, with a resigned sigh, Rae sat. But, as she did, her arm brushed against his and heat crackled through her, making her instantly feverish as remembrance of the previous night crashed through her.

She had spent the better part of the night wide awake and trying not to think about what had exploded between them. How he had framed her face in his strong hands, how she'd been trapped between the wall and his very solid, very hot body, how his lips had been right there, a mere breath from hers. The fact that nothing had actually happened didn't ease the alarm she felt, because something very easily could have happened. It had been on the cusp of happening. She had been seconds away from begging for his mouth to be on her—her lips, her breasts, her... No!

Rae knew her only hope now was to leave as soon as possible. If she got away quickly, she could consign the previous night's events to some dusty shelf in the far recesses of her mind and, within a matter of weeks, hopefully it would be as if it had never happened. As if none of the emotional upheaval of her ill-thought-out trip had happened.

‘You slept well, I hope,' Domenico said suddenly, without tuning his head to look at her.

‘The room was very comfortable,' Rae answered noncommittally, because there was no way she wanted him to have a single idea of how unsettled he'd left her.

‘You didn't sleep?' he pressed, and this time he did turn his head and she was swallowed up by his bottomless dark gaze. His regard was as hot and heavy as his physical touch had been and Rae's mouth ran dry, her lips tingled and a pulse ignited between her legs.

She squeezed her thighs together, but it failed to quash the reaction pounding through her. The liquid heat of need raced through her veins, making her hunger for his touch all over again, and suddenly all she could feel was the sensation of falling. That she was tumbling head over heels into him and wanting nothing more than to be back in that hallway last night, caged by his delectable male body.

From what sounded like far away Rae heard a female voice—Alessandra—calling everyone to attention and asking them to take their seats—and she clung to it, using it as a lifeline to grip onto as she tried to drag herself from her sensual freefall.

‘I slept fine, thank you,' she said, cleaving her gaze from Domenico's and fixing her attention straight ahead. She forced herself to ignore the sirens wailing in her body and listen to every single one of Alessandra's welcoming and introductory words before she handed over the duties to the other executor of Elena's estate, Elena's long-time friend and confidant, Vincenzo D'Aragona. Very quickly, his smooth baritone voice filled the salon.

One more hour, Rae estimated as Vincenzo began on the bequests, and then she would be on her way home. The thought brought a little bit of calm to her galloping heart because she wasn't sure how many more moments like that with Domenico she could withstand.

Exhaling shakily, Rae tuned back in to the reading of the will. Vincenzo was in the middle of stating Elena's wish that her donations to certain charities continued from her estate. Then he moved on to the individual bequests, monetary gifts and heirlooms for specific friends and family—none of which surprised Rae, as Elena had always been extraordinarily generous.

‘Finally, to the matters of business and real estate. It was Elena's wish that all of her shares in The Ricci Group pass in totality to her named heir, Domenico Paolo Ricci. Her real estate portfolio, including but not limited to her homes in Rome and Lake Como and the apartment in Paris, will also pass to Domenico Paolo Ricci. However,' Vincenzo continued with a pregnant pause, during which Alessandra cast something of an uneasy glance Domenico's way and, noticing it, a slither of unease stirred in Rae's stomach, ‘with regard to Palazzo Ricci here in Venice, Elena insisted upon the addition of a marital clause and in the event that Domenico fails to meet the stated requirements of said clause, Palazzo Ricci will pass to Elena's next closest living relative, her sister.'

The gasps of surprise from others were quickly quelled with a stern look from Vincenzo. Face tight but expressionless, Domenico leaned slightly forward, biceps straining against the confines of the suit.

‘In this case, the marital clause stipulates that Domenico will only inherit on the celebration of the second anniversary of his wedding to his wife Raegan Dunbar-Ricci on October the second this year.'

Domenico went rigid, but it was an extra second before it hit Rae. And, once it did, her eyes flew wide.

What?