The Italian's Future Bride(3)

No chance, Rachel denounced. There was no way any woman could hold this  man at arm's length if he did not want to be held there. It was no  wonder that poor Elise had dropped like a shot duck into his hands.



'I've ruined everything,' she murmured dully. 'Look, they're leaving.'



'The hell you have,' Mark said brusquely. 'We can't let Elise down after all of this planning. I can still rescue this.'



Grabbing one of her hands, he began pulling her towards the foyer.



'The trouble with you, Rachel, is you insisted on trying the wrong tack  on him then blew it. This time you do it the way we planned it, okay? So  listen,' instructed the man who got his highs hunting down and catching  the rich and famous at their worst. 'I'm going to grab the lovely  Daniella's attention. All you have to do is to move in on him the moment  I move in on her. I can give you ten seconds at most, so don't hang  around and, for God's sake, don't let yourself think! This will be our  last chance.'



Their last chance …



They'd reached the foyer by now and Mark's instructions were playing  across her tense chest muscles like sharp hammering throbs. Raffaelle  Villani and his stepsister were already turning towards the main exit  doors.                       
       
           



       



'Hey-Miss Leeson!' Mark called out. 'Where's your future husband tonight?'



Daniella Leeson paused, then turned on the delicate heels of her shoes,  saw Mark with a camera already up at his face and switched on a false  smile.



'He's … '



'Get going,' Mark muttered sideways at Rachel.



As if in a dream Rachel let Mark's urgency take her over. Her legs felt  like jelly as she moved in. Raffaelle Villani was only just turning to  watch his stepsister pose for the hated paparazzi so he didn't see  Rachel coming at him from one side. Stepping right in front of him and  without daring to think, she threw her arms up and clasped his face  between her fingers, then stretched up on tiptoe and crushed her mouth  against his.



She didn't know which of them was the more shocked as heat hit her body  like mega-watt high voltage. His grunt of surprise vibrated against her  lips. Lights flashed, her skin burned, her fingertips tingled where they  pressed against his warm satin tight skin.



Seconds. It took too many seconds for his brain to relay to Raffaelle  what was happening and by then her mouth was fusing hot against his. His  hands leapt up-it was automatic to close them around a small waist with  the intention of pushing her away.



A camera flashed.



He pulled his mouth free, found himself staring down at the same blonde  who'd approached earlier.'Madre de Dio . What do you think you are  doing?' he raked out.



The flash hit him again. She was staring up at him, all big blue  apologetic eyes and smudged pink lipstick and her fingers had shifted  from his face to the back of his neck.



'Sorry,' she whispered breathlessly. 'But you left me with no other choice.'



She began to pull away. The camera was still flashing. Instead of aiding  her withdrawal, Raffaelle tightened his grip on her waist and made her  stay exactly where she was.



He was blindingly, blisteringly furious. 'No choice about what?' he bit down at her.



She wriggled against him in an effort to free herself. What happened  next made her breath catch and he knew why it did. She was plastered  against him like a second layer of skin and the extra physical pressure  had brought their lower bodies into contact.



'Dio,' he cursed again.



'Oh, God,' Rachel echoed. 'Y-you-you're … '



'I don't need you to tell me what I already know!' he raked out. 'I just  need an explanation as to what the hell you think you are trying to  pull off with this!'



'I … '



'Okay kiddo, let's go.'



Let's go … Raffaelle lifted his eyes to the photographer, wondered why he  hadn't noticed the camera dangling round his neck before. Then answered  his own question with a twist of his mouth. He had been too busy looking  at her to notice him in any detail.



'Some set-up,' he gritted.



'Please let me go now.' She tugged at his iron grip on her waist.



'Not even if you decide to faint,' he incised, sparks flying from his  eyes as he watched Daniella turn towards them and her eyes give a  startled blink.



Indeed, he agreed with her surprised expression. The photographer was already shooting out of the door.



'You,' he raked at his attacker, 'are coming with me to explain yourself.'



Without giving her a chance to protest, he reached up to yank her claws  out of his neck, then let go of one hand and used the other to begin  hauling her towards the exit.



'Raffaelle-!'A bewildered Daniella called his name as she hurried after them.



Outside a cool breeze hit his angry face.



Just angry-? He was bloody blindingly livid. His instincts must be dulling for him to get caught out like this.



'Please … ' the blonde pleaded.



'Be silent,' he snapped out and his hand tightened its grip on her  wrist. He felt her wince; he didn't care. Dino, his chauffeur, drew his  limo up at the kerb and climbed out of the car.



Raffaelle strode towards it with his captive almost tripping up behind  him on her flimsy sparkling spindle-heeled shoes. 'Grab a cab and take  Miss Leeson home,' he instructed his driver.



'But-Raffaelle-?' his stepsister wailed in protest.



He ignored her. He ignored everyone, including the blonde who was still  desperately trying to get free. Opening the front passenger door to the  limo, he tried to propel her inside.



She dug her heels in. 'I'm not-'



He picked her up and bodily put her into the car. When she tried to get  out again, her mouth opening wide with the intention of screaming for  help, he bent swiftly and smothered the sound with his mouth.                       
       
           



       



He didn't take pleasure from hard angry kisses, he told himself,  particularly when he'd just been hit on by a woman who deserved a slap  not a kiss. However the kiss gave him a hell of a lot more satisfaction,  especially when her muffled scream rolled around his mouth and sent his  tongue chasing it.



She quivered. She tasted of champagne and pink lipstick.



By the time he yanked his mouth away again she'd sunk into trembling shock.



'Now, listen to me,' he incised as he locked the seat belt around her.  'I don't know how much your partner in crime was paying you to pull off  that stunt, but in case you did not notice, he was not the only  sleaze-gathering scum working the room back there. The pack has scented a  story and is about to descend on us.'



On that hard warning he straightened, slammed the car door shut, then  strode round to the other side while Rachel twisted her head to stare  dazedly at the press pack gathering at the main hotel doors. By the time  she'd absorbed all of that, Raffaelle Villani had folded himself into  the driver's seat next to her-a lean, dark, hard-muscled male with  aggression bouncing off him.



His chauffeur had left the engine running. He snaked out a hand and  threw the car into drive. They took off with a jerk just as the press  pack tumbled over each other with their cameras flashing. Rachel watched  as the whole debacle played out like a comic strip. Even his stepsister  had her part to play. She was standing by the kerb staring after them  while the chauffeur was politely trying to urge her into the back of a  black cab.



Mark was nowhere.



Thanks, Mark, Rachel thought helplessly, visualising her darling  half-brother rushing off to file his scoop without giving a second  thought to what he had left her to face!



Rachel flicked a scared glance at the man sitting beside her, then shivered. If murder had a look to it then he was wearing it.



'Please stop the car so I can get out,' she begged and didn't even care that she was begging.



He didn't answer. Lips clamped together, he sent the car shooting out  into the main stream of traffic. Several car horns blared in protest at  his pushy arrogance. He ignored those too.



'Look, I know you're angry,' she allowed shakily. 'And I know that you have every right to be, but-'



'Grazie.'



'This is kidnap!'



'So sue me,' he gritted. 'That could be fun.'



Fun-? Rachel trembled and shivered as she sat tensely beside him. None  of this had beenfun from the moment she'd allowed Elise and Mark to talk  her into it. One minute she'd been perfectly content, hiding away in  Devon nursing her broken heart, the next minute she'd found herself  staying up here in London with her half-sister and being embroiled in  her complicated love-life!



'It w-wasn't what you think-'



'You don't know what I'm thinking.'



'I amnot being paid to-'



'Hit on me?' he offered when those very same words dried in her throat.  'It is a relief to know I still have some natural pulling power then.'