The Fiorenza Forced Marriage - By Melanie Milburne Page 0,4

as you. You saw a big fat cherry just ripe for the picking in my father, did you not? You must have buttered him up rather well to get him to rewrite his will. I wonder what tricks you had up your sleeve, or should I say skirt?'

Emma had never felt closer to slapping a person. She curled her hands into fists, fighting for control, anger bubbling up inside her at his despicable taunts. 'How dare you?' she bit out.

He rocked back on his heels in an imperious manner. 'You are quite the little firebrand behind that demure façade, eh, Miss March? No wonder my father took such a shine to you. Who knows? We might make quite a match of it after all. I like my women hot and flustered. I think you might do very well as my bride.'

Emma gave him a look that could strip paint. 'You are the most obnoxious man I have ever met,' she bit out. 'Do you really think I would agree to become involved with someone like you?'

He gave her another cynical smile. 'I am not sure I should tell you what I think right now, Miss March,' he drawled. 'You might follow through on your current desire to slap my face.'

Emma hated that she had been so transparent. It made her feel he had an advantage over her being able to read her body language so well. What else could he see? she wondered. Could he tell she was deeply disturbed by his arrant masculinity? That his sensually shaped mouth made her lips tingle at the thought of what it would feel like to have him kiss her?

Her reaction to him was somewhat of a bewildering shock to her. She was normally such a sensible, level-headed person. She had never considered herself a sensualist, but then she had so little experience when it came to men.

Rafaele Fiorenza, on the other hand, looked as if he had loads of experience when it came to women. His tall frame, classically handsome features and magnetic dark brown eyes with their impossibly long dark lashes were a potent combination any woman would find hard to resist. Emma could imagine he would be a demanding and exciting lover. She could almost feel the sexual energy emanating from him; it created a crackling tension in the air, making her feel even more on edge and hopelessly out of her depth. The thought of being legally married to him for any length of time was disturbing in the extreme. The lawyer had spoken of a marriage of convenience, but what if Rafaele wanted it to be a real marriage?

In order to pull her thoughts back into line she said the first thing that came to her head. 'You didn't go to your father's funeral.'

'I am not one for hypocrisy,' he said, shifting his gaze from hers to sweep it over the property. 'My father would not have wanted me there, in any case. He hated me.'

Emma frowned at his embittered tone. 'I'm sure that's not true. Very few parents truly hate their children.'

His eyes came back to hers, his inherent cynicism glittering like black diamonds. 'I can only assume he thought by forcing me to marry his little nursemaid it might have some sort of reforming effect on me,' he said. 'What do you think, Miss March? Do your skills extend to taming decadent playboys?'

Emma could feel her colour rise all over again and quickly changed the subject. 'How long has it been since you were here last?' she asked.

He drew in a breath and sent his gaze back over the stately mansion. 'It has been fifteen years,' he said.

'You have lived abroad all that time?' she asked.

He turned back to look down at her. 'Yes. I've been primarily based in London but I have a couple of properties in France and Spain. But now my father is dead I intend to move back here.'

Hearing him speaking in that deep mellifluous voice of his did strange things to Emma's insides. He spoke English like a native and even had a trace of a London accent, which gave him a sophisticated air that was lethally attractive. She could imagine him travelling the globe, with a mistress in every city clamouring for his attention. He was everything a playboy should be: suave, sophisticated and utterly sexy. Even his aftershave smelt erotic - it had a citrus base and some other exotic spice that made her think of hot sultry musk-scented