ONE She wasn’t much to look at. Certainly not his type, Raffaele thought. Although she must have held some appeal for his brother, even if it wasn’t immediately apparent what that attraction was. He would have overlooked the woman altogether if it hadn’t been for her light complexion and the riot of golden curls cascading to her waist. She wasn’t overweight by any means. Curvaceous was perhaps a better word; full, rounded breasts, an equally well-rounded bottom, hips gently flaring out from a waistline that was in perfect proportion with the rest of her bodacious body. Was that the allure Luca had fallen prey to? Had he been captivated by her feminine softness? Raffaele gave a mental shrug, thankful that he felt no such desire for women of her build or stature. She paled in comparison to the willowy, sculptured beauties he usually favored who graced the catwalks with their slender frames and shapely legs that went on for miles.
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