Tempted By A Caffarelli. Melanie Milburne

he had gone from attentive listener to hard-nosed businessman in a heartbeat. She had been momentarily lulled into thinking he had a softer side underneath that ruthlessly tough exterior.

      He was not soft.

      He was as hard as steel and she had better not forget it. ‘Why is the dower house such an issue for you? Isn’t the manor enough? You have properties all over the globe. Why are you being so pigheaded and stubborn about a little dower house in a tiny little village in the English countryside?’

      His mouth was set in an intractable line. ‘I want that house. It belongs to the estate. It should never have been taken off the deeds.’

      Poppy gave him a challenging glare. ‘That house belongs to me. You can’t have it. Get over it.’

      His diamond-hard eyes bored like a drill into hers. ‘Don’t mess with me, Poppy. You have no idea how ruthless I can be if I have to.’

      She got to her feet with an ear-piercing screech of chair legs against the floorboards. ‘Get out of my shop.’

      He gave her an imperious smile. ‘It’s my shop now—remember?’

      Fury coursed through her body like a flash of hot fire. She wanted to slap him. She had never felt so tempted to resort to physical violence. She clenched her hands into fists, her body shaking with impotent rage. ‘What are you going to do—charge me an exorbitant rent? Go ahead. Make me pay. I’ll go public with it. I’ll tell everyone you tried to blackmail me to sleep with you. I’ll speak to every newspaper. Don’t think I won’t do it, because I will.’

      He laughed, which made her all the more furious. ‘I really like your spirit. No one has ever stood up to me quite like you do. But you’re not going to win this. I always get what I want.’

      Poppy glowered at him. ‘Get out.’

      His eyes glinted at her goadingly as he leisurely got to his feet. ‘Call the papers. Tell them what you like. They’ll just think you’re another wannabe gold-digger after money and fame. You’ll be the one with mud on your face, not me.’ He took out his wallet. ‘How much do I owe for the tea?’

      Poppy gave him a look that would have stripped graffiti off a wall. ‘It’s on the house.’

      He held her gaze for a long, throbbing moment. ‘I meant what I said about the rent. I don’t intend to make any changes to the arrangements you made with John Underwood.’

      She flashed him another caustic glare. ‘Am I supposed to thank you? Kiss your feet? Prostrate myself before you? Go on, lay one finger on me and see what happens. I dare you— Oomph!’

      His hands had grasped her upper arms so quickly she didn’t have time to do much more than snatch a quick breath before his mouth came down on hers.

      It was a hard, possessive kiss, a hot fizzing pressure against her lips that made them tingle as if high-voltage electricity was passing directly from his body to hers.

      Poppy had intended to fight him, but somehow as soon as his mouth connected with hers her lips softened and became totally pliant, melting beneath the fiery purpose of his. She opened to his command and tasted the full potent heat of him, the bold thrust of his tongue going in search of hers with erotic intent. He explored every corner of her mouth with spine-tingling thoroughness, leaving her breathless and barely able to stand upright.

      But, even more mortifying, she gave a soft little whimper of approval just before he broke the connection.

      It was of some slight consolation to her that he looked just as shocked as she felt. His eyes were almost black and a frown had appeared between his eyebrows as he dropped his hands from her upper arms and took an unsteady step back from her.

      Poppy tried to think of something witty or pithy to say but her mouth was still hanging open in stupefaction.

      He inclined his head in a formal nod, his expression now unfathomable. ‘Thank you for the tea lesson. It was very...’ He paused over the choice of a word. ‘Entertaining.’

      Poppy let out her breath in a flustered rush once he had gone. She knew the battle was far from over.

      It was just beginning.

       CHAPTER SIX

      ‘I THINK YOU’RE being very pig-headed about this,’ Chloe said a couple of days later. ‘I keep thinking of that poor man starving up there at the manor.’

      Poppy snorted. ‘He’s probably got a bevy of blonde bombshells to peel his grapes for him. Anyway, what’s wrong with a microwave dinner every now and again?’

      ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this,’ Chloe said. ‘You—the cooking-from-scratch queen of the kitchen.’

      Poppy couldn’t stop a reluctant smile from forming. ‘I’m not averse to the odd bit of convenience food. I had baked beans on toast last night.’

      Chloe covered her ears. ‘Don’t use such filthy language in my hearing.’

      The chime on the door sounded and Poppy’s heart gave a little stumble. ‘You get that. I’ve got to get the cookies out of the oven.’

      Chloe snatched the oven mitts out of Poppy’s grasp. ‘He’s not here to see me, more’s the pity.’

      ‘How do you know it’s him?’

      Chloe gave her a knowing look. ‘Because you don’t blush like a rose when anyone else opens that door.’

      ‘It’s only because I dislike him so much.’

      ‘Yeah, and I hate chocolate.’

      Poppy threw her shoulders back and walked briskly out into the tearoom. ‘Good morning, Mr Caffarelli. Your usual?’

      ‘I’m not here for coffee.’

      She gave him a pert look. ‘Tea?’

      An enigmatic smile played at the edges of his mouth while her mouth tingled in memory of his hot, hard kiss. ‘Are you free for dinner tonight?’ he asked.

      Poppy drew in a tight little breath as she put her hands on her hips. The hide of him! Where on earth did he get access to so much arrogance and confidence? Was it coded in his DNA? ‘You don’t give up easily, do you?’

      ‘It’s not in my nature.’

      Chloe popped her head around the door. ‘She’d love to go out to dinner. She’s not busy. She hasn’t been out on a date with anyone for more than three months.’

      Poppy swung back and threw Chloe a livid glare. ‘Do you mind?’

      ‘What harm will it do to have a meal with him?’ Chloe said. ‘You know you want to.’

      ‘I do not want to!’

      ‘She does want to,’ Chloe said with authority to Rafe. ‘It will do her good. She needs to get out more.’

      ‘I swear to God I’m going to—’

      ‘So it’s a date,’ Rafe said. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven. I thought we could go to that new restaurant in the next village everyone is talking about.’

      ‘I’m not go—’

      ‘What should she wear?’ Chloe said before Poppy could finish spluttering her protest.

      ‘Surprise me.’ He gave them both a smile and walked back out the door.

      ‘You’re fired,’ Poppy said, flashing Chloe another deadly glare.

      ‘You don’t mean that,’ Chloe said. ‘Anyway, what could be more perfect than going to Oliver’s restaurant with the seriously rich, staggeringly handsome Rafe Caffarelli as your date? How cool a payback is that? I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that two-timing pig sees you