Suave, sensual and utterly scandalous...
Leo Valente is as notorious as the tabloids make him out to be. But feisty wedding planner Dara Devlin isn’t deterred. She needs his family castle for her top client, so she boldly accepts Leo’s outrageous challenge to be his fake girlfriend!
If Dara thinks her sensible suit and unwavering professionalism will discourage him, she’s mistaken. They only make Leo want to get beneath her buttoned-up exterior all the more!
Surrounded by the imposing walls and haunting memories of his opulent Sicilian castello, Leo finds seducing Dara is the perfect diversion—and claiming her will be this playboy’s ultimate prize.
‘Are you asking me to pose as your date?’
‘What other reason would we have for being in Palermo together? I think it’s the most believable scenario, don’t you?’
Maybe it was the fatigue of the past twenty-four hours catching up with her, but Dara felt a wave of hysterical laughter threatening to bubble up to the surface. The thought that anyone would believe a man like Leo Valente was dating a plain Irish nobody like her was absolutely ludicrous.
He continued, oblivious to her stunned reaction. ‘You would leave the business talk to me. All I need is for you to act as a buffer of sorts—play on your history with Lucchesi’s family. Someone with a personal connection to smooth the way.’
‘A buffer? That sounds so flattering...’ she muttered.
‘You would get all the benefits of being my companion and being a guest at an exclusive event. It would be enjoyable, I believe.’
‘Umberto Lucchesi is a powerful man. He must have good reason not to trust you,’ she mused. ‘I’m not quite sure I can risk my reputation.’
‘I’m a powerful man, Dara. You climbed a building to get a meeting with me. I’m offering you an opportunity to get exactly what you want. It’s up to you if you take it or not.’
Resisting the Sicilian Playboy
Amanda Cinelli
This story began as a flicker of an idea—as most stories do. I was newly engaged and exploring a wedding fair in Dublin when I spotted a kiosk that advertised dream Italian weddings. The idea that someone could have such a glamorous job—planning events in such spectacular locations—was fascinating. The character of Dara was born instantly: a super organised wedding planner on a mission to take her career to the next level.
I’ve always been a dreamer—some say I was born into the wrong century entirely—so getting married in an ancient castle by the sea is the ultimate fantasy for me. While my own wedding took place in Ireland, Italy seemed like the perfect place for a honeymoon. Many of my summers have been spent in my father’s home country, exploring historic towns and eating gelato by the sea.
It was while researching possible locations that I stumbled across the breathtaking Castello di Donnafugata in Ragusa. Leo’s family estate is inspired by this ancient Sicilian landmark. I fell in love with the dramatic façade and wondered what it would have been like to grow up in such a place...to wake up in the morning and look out of the arched windows to see waves crashing on the cliffs below... There I go—daydreaming again!
And so it came about that I entered the 2014 So You Think You Can Write competition with the aim of finally typing ‘The End’ on Leo and Dara’s story. I had no idea that it would be the beginning of a wonderful adventure of my own. The support I received was overwhelming, and being named winner of the competition is a moment I will never, ever forget.
Writing, to me, is like dreaming on paper, and I am honoured to be able to share my dreams with you.
Amanda
For my dear friend Kirsty. This story would never have been finished without you.
For my mother, Audrey. For your unwavering belief in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.
And for my father, Paolo. For showing me that with hard work and determination you can achieve anything.
Contents
DARA DEVLIN HAD found herself in a few sticky situations in this job, but this had to be by far the worst.
A professional event planner should never gatecrash. It had to be written somewhere in the company handbook. Yet here she was, straddling the second-floor balcony ledge of Milan’s most exclusive nightclub in four-inch designer heels.
All in the name of business, of course.
The heels had certainly slowed progress up the slippery emergency ladder, but leaving them in the alley below was unthinkable. A woman stood by her shoes, no matter how sticky the situation. And this situation most definitely qualified as sticky.
Handbag in one hand, she silently willed her skirt not to tear as she manoeuvred herself less than gracefully over the cold stone ledge, landing on hard marble tiles. Her watch