Page 42 of A Captain For Clarissa
For one brief instant, Clarissa thought he was hinting at proposing toher, but immediately she saw that his lovesick gaze had never strayed from Isabella.
“Of course you do!” she exclaimed. “Any woman would be lucky to have you… but in this specific case, I do believe your affections are returned in full measure.”
“You do?”
They had reached the stone archway into the castle courtyard, through which Rafael and Isabella had passed a moment earlier before going out of sight. Clarissa laughed, stopping and turning to look at Mario.
“Yes, indeed I do.”
He fell on her neck with cries of delight in Italian, hugging her tightly and exclaiming that he hoped soon to call her his sister, as he had once hoped before, but this way should be so muchbetter, ensuring the happiness of all concerned. Clarissa laughed and hugged him back.
“You are a little precipitate there, I think,” she replied.
“We shall see!”
Chapter Fifteen
Clarissa’s heart leapt intoher throat as Rafael strode out of the castle’s entryway, his boots echoing sharply against the weathered stones. His sea-green eyes flashed with an intensity she had never seen before, brows knitted together in consternation.
He halted abruptly before her, hands clenching at his sides. Clarissa’s pulse quickened. From the stormy look clouding Rafael’s handsome features, she instantly knew he must have overheard part of their conversation. But which part? Surely not...
“My apologies for interrupting, Lady Clarissa, Conte Ginori,” Rafael said tersely, giving a curt nod to each of them. His gaze lingered on Clarissa, something unfathomable lurking in those ocean depths. “I trust I am not intruding on a...private moment?”
Clarissa’s stomach flip-flopped. Oh no. He couldn’t possibly think... “Not at all, Captain,” she replied with a brightness she did not feel, trying to mask her rising unease. “The Conte and I were merely having a friendly chat. Isn’t that right, Mario?”
Mario smiled genially, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling in the air between them. “Indeed, just a most delightful discourse on the charms of the Portuguese countryside. Lady Clarissa is a keen observer of natural beauty.” He winked at her conspiratorially.
Clarissa flushed, her cheeks heating. Why did men always have to be so suggestive? She risked a glance at Rafael, saw his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. Dear Lord, he had gotten entirely the wrong impression! She had to set things straight, and quickly, before this spiralled out of control.
“Actually, Rafael, I was hoping we might have a word?” She widened her eyes at him meaningfully, willing him to understand. “In private?”
A muscle jumped in his jaw as he regarded her inscrutably for a long, tense moment. Finally, he inclined his head. “As you wish, my lady.”
Clarissa turned to the Conte with an apologetic smile. “Pray excuse us, Mario. We shan’t be long.”
“Of course, of course!” The Conte waved a magnanimous hand. “Take all the time you need.”
Pulse thrumming, she followed Rafael’s broad back as he led them away from the Conte, her mind awhirl. She had to explain, to make him see reason. The very thought of him believing she would accept another man’s proposal made her feel quite ill.
Rafael whirled around to face Clarissa once they reached the relative seclusion of the terrace, his sea-green eyes stormy with emotion. “How could you accept his proposal?” he demanded, his voice low and intense. “I thought...I thought we...”
He trailed off, running an agitated hand through his dark hair. Clarissa’s heart clenched at the hurt and confusion etched across his handsome features. She reached out instinctively, her fingers grazing his arm.
“Rafael, please, let me explain. It’s not what you think-”
But he jerked away from her touch as if burned, his gaze hardening. “And what about Isabella?” he pressed on, relentless. “She’s completely smitten with the Conte, and you encouraged him? I never took you for the type to betray a friend so callously.”
Clarissa reeled back, stung. How dare he accuse her of such a thing? Anger flared within her, hot and bright. “Now see here, Captain,” she snapped, drawing herself up to her full height. “I have done no such thing! If you would just listen-”
“I’ve heard enough,” Rafael cut her off coldly, turning his back on her. “I thought I knew you, Clarissa. But it seems I was mistaken.”
His words hit her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously. She would not cry in front of him, not now.
“Rafael...” His name escaped her lips, plaintive and small.
But he was already striding away, his broad shoulders rigid with tension. Clarissa watched him go, her heart fracturing with every step he took. How had everything gone so wrong, so quickly?
She had to fix this, had to make him understand. But as she stood there, the sun beating down mercilessly and the scent of bougainvillaea thick in the air, Clarissa had never felt more lost. Or more alone.
