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Much like her mother appeared weak and frail. Her vibrancy, her happiness had faded over the years, all at the hands of her husband. Carlo Campioni had destroyed his beautiful Anna with his neglect, his mocking cruelty, slashing at her self-esteem repeatedly until she was left in tatters, harder and harder to piece back together.
No way would she be like her mother. Being with Rafael, marrying him…she knew it would’ve resulted in Cat being slowly torn apart. She couldn’t have it. She’d done what was best.
Pushing aside her silly loneliness, she sank deeper into the pillow, her limbs growing heavy, her breathing slow. She could do whatever she wanted now. No future husband to think of, no wedding to plan, no bitter sister to deal with now that her marriage had been called off. She could leave if she wanted to. Maybe she could go to Chicago on her own, visit her family, maybe even work at the Campioni location there.
Not that Annalisa would want her to leave. She enjoyed bossing Cat around all day.
Cat frowned, her eyes popping open. Her sister’s seemingly jealous, horrible mood swings made her insane and she didn’t understand it. Annalisa had always been the brighter one, the prettier one, the daughter with all the expectations. She’d taken over the family business with ease, as if she was born to step into the position.
Granted, she was almost four years older and still not married, a sort of kiss of death amongst their family and friends, but she was a modern woman. At least Annalisa wouldn’t be married and miserable at such a young age like so many of the girls that they grew up with. If she wanted to, her older sister could travel and do anything she wanted, which Cat had envied all these years while she waited for Rafe to come around in vain.
But could Annalisa really? Now that she’d taken over Campioni, maybe she couldn’t. Annalisa had responsibilities now. There was a business to run, employees to oversee, sales to handle, all because their father had abandoned them, the business, everything.
Not too long ago, Annalisa would constantly threaten to go back to the States and find a nice, handsome American boy to marry. She used to throw little fits about leaving to find a real man, especially after they would see Rafael. Cat knew they were always in reaction to her so-called fiancée.
More than once, Cat wondered if her sister had a crush on Rafael. Not that she’d ever ask or that her sister would ever confess, but it had crossed her mind more than once.
Foolish. No more fits for Annalisa over her younger sister’s impending marriage, thank God.
When sleep finally crept into her consciousness, Cat went willingly. Her mind finally calmed, quieted. Her body relaxed, the tension slowly easing from her muscles. And as her worrisome thoughts left her, she slipped into blissful nothingness.
Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.
She dreamed. Though it felt so wonderfully real, she knew it had to be a dream since she’d never had a man in her bedroom before…
Smelling him first, she breathed deep, the spicy, masculine scent filling her nostrils, intoxicating her like a drug, making her yearn to seek out more. She reached out toward the warmth, the solid feel of him and came into contact with hard, hot flesh. Stroking slowly up a man’s arm, she felt his thick biceps beneath her fingers. She caressed and squeezed, marveling at the smooth skin, the muscle she felt flexing beneath.
He moved closer, hovering above her, her faceless man who’d boldly joined her in her bed. She felt his touch before she saw it. Calloused fingers traced the line of her jaw, the tip of her chin, the corner of her mouth. A breathy sigh escaped her at first contact, and she licked her lips, swore she heard her mystery man groan.
The dream felt enticingly real. Big hands rested on either side of her head, flattening her pillow, and she turned, felt the sting of her hair pulling against her scalp. He had her pinned, his fingers in her hair, his body pressing closer, closer…
Cat’s eyes flew open and saw the man—a very real man hovering above her in the darkness. She couldn’t make out his face, had no idea who it was and she parted her lips, her lungs seemingly frozen since no sound came out.
But she recognized the scent of him, the feel of him…
“Rafael?” Her voice squeaked, disbelief filling her and she struggled against him. “Wh—what are you doing?” she asked, her voice rising.
“Sshh.” He rested his finger against her lips, silencing her. “I don’t want to wake anyone in the house.”
Of course he didn’t. Talk about causing a scandal. “Why are you here?” she whispered fiercely.
Could she admit that it gave her a thrill, having him somehow sneak into her room, sitting with her on her bed? Yes, she’d split with him. Yes, she didn’t want to marry him.
