About the Authors

SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Mills & Boon style, they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel, and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis or gallops through the countryside singing loudly.

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered ‘swimming’—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights—I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!

Secret Heirs: Royal Appointment

A Night of Royal Consequences

Susan Stephens

The Sheikh’s Baby Scandal

Carol Marinelli

The Sultan Demands His Heir

Maya Blake

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09725-3

SECRET HEIRS: ROYAL APPOINTMENT

A Night of Royal Consequences © 2017 Susan Stephens The Sheikh’s Baby Scandal © 2016 Carol Marinelli The Sultan Demands His Heir © 2017 Maya Blake

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

A Night of Royal Consequences

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

The Sheikh’s Baby Scandal

Back Cover Text

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

The Sultan Demands His Heir

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

A Night of Royal Consequences

Susan Stephens

Claiming his one-night baby

Callie Smith gave up everything to care for her alcoholic father. After his death, she’s finally able to follow her own dreams. And what better way to celebrate than by spending an out-of-character—but outrageously sinful—night with gorgeous Italian prince Luca Fabrizio?

To preserve his family dynasty, Luca was planning to marry a convenient bride—until Callie reveals the consequences of their heated encounter! Having just taken back her freedom, Callie refuses to wear his ring. To legitimize his heir, Luca must persuade her that life in his royal bed will be more pleasurable than she can possibly imagine!

For my most excellent editor Megan,

who is a joy to work with.

CHAPTER ONE

AS FUNERALS WENT, this was as grand as it got. As tradition demanded Luca, who was now the ruling Prince, arrived last, to take his place of honour in the packed cathedral. He was seated in front of the altar beneath a cupola with images painted by Michelangelo. Towering bronze doors to one side were so stunningly crafted they were known as the ‘gateway to paradise’. Tense with grief, Luca was aware of nothing but concern that he’d pulled out all the stops for a man to whom he owed everything. Flags were flown at half-mast across the principality of Fabrizio. Loyal subjects lined the streets. Flowers had been imported from France. The musicians were from Rome. A procession of priceless horse-drawn carriages drew dignitaries from across the world to the cathedral. Luca’s black stallion, Force, drew his father’s flag-draped coffin on a gun carriage with the Prince’s empty boots reversed in the stirrups. It was a poignant sight, but the proud horse held his head high, as if he knew his precious cargo was a great man on his final journey.

As the new ruler of the small, but fabulously wealthy principality of Fabrizio, Luca, the man the scandal sheets still liked to call ‘the boy from the gutters of Rome’, was shown the greatest respect. He’d moved a long way from those gutters. Innate business acumen had made him a billionaire, while the man he was burying today had made him a prince. This magnificent setting was a long way from the graffiti-daubed alleyways of Luca’s childhood where the stench of rotting rubbish would easily eclipse the perfume of flowers and incense surrounding him today. The peeling plaster and flyposting of those narrow alleyways replaced by exquisite gothic architecture, the finest sculpture, and stained glass. In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined becoming a prince. As a boy, it had been enough to have scraps he stole from bins to fill his belly and rags to cover his back.

He inclined his head graciously as yet another European princess in need of a husband acknowledged him with an enticing smile. Fortunately, he’d retained the street smarts that warned him of advantage-takers. He wouldn’t be chaining himself down to a simpering aristo any time soon. Though he could do nothing about the testosterone running through his veins, Luca conceded wryly. Even freshly shaved and wearing dress uniform, he looked like a swarthy brawler from the docks. His appearance had been one thing his adoptive father, the late Prince, had been unable to refine.

Well over six feet tall and deeply tanned, with a honed, warrior’s frame, Luca couldn’t be sure of his parentage. His mother had been a Roman working girl. His father, he guessed, was the man who used to pester her for money. The late Prince was the only parent he remembered clearly. He owed the Prince his education. He owed him everything.

They’d met in the unlikely setting of the Coliseum, where the Prince had been on an official visit, and Luca had been stealing from the bins. He had not expected to come to the notice of such a grand man, but the Prince had been shrewd and had missed nothing. The next day he had sent an aide de camp with an offer for Luca to try living at the palace with the Prince’s son, Max. They would be company for each other, the Prince had insisted, and Luca would be free to go if he didn’t like his life there.

Young and street smart, Luca had had the sense to be wary, but he’d been hungry, and filling his belly had been worth taking a chance. That chance had led to this, which was why honouring the Prince was so important to him. He held his adoptive father in the highest esteem, for teaching him everything about building a life, rather than falling victim to it. But the Prince had left one final warning on his deathbed. ‘Max is weak. You will follow me onto the throne as my heir. You must marry and preserve my legacy to the country I believe we both love.’

Clasping his father’s frail hand in his, Luca had given his word. If he could have willed his strength into a man he loved unreservedly, he would have done that too. He would have done anything to save the life of the man who’d saved him.

As if reading Luca’s thoughts, his adoptive brother Maximus glared at him now from across the aisle. There was no love lost between the two men. Their father had failed to form any sort of relationship with Max, and Luca had failed too. Max preferred womanising and gambling to statecraft. He’d never shown any interest in family at all. He favoured the hangers-on who flocked around him, lavishing praise on Max in hope of his favour. Luca had soon learned that, while the Prince was his greatest supporter, Max would always be his greatest enemy.

Picking up the order of service to distract himself from Max’s baleful glare, Luca scanned his father’s long list of accomplishments and titles with great sadness. There would never be such a man again, a thought that made him doubly determined to fulfil his pledge to the letter. ‘You are a born leader,’ his father had told him, ‘and so I name you my heir.’ No wonder Max hated him.

Luca hadn’t looked for the honour of being heir to the throne of Fabrizio. He didn’t need the money. He could run the country out of pocket change. Success had come when he’d nagged his father to let him bring Fabrizio up to date, and had insisted on studying tech at university. He’d gone on to become one of the most successful men in the industry. His global holdings were so vast his company almost ran itself. This was just as well as he had to turn his thoughts to ruling a country, and to filling the empty space beside him.

‘If you fail to do this within two years,’ his father had said on his deathbed, ‘our constitution states that the throne will pass by default to your brother.’ They both knew what that meant. Max would ruin Fabrizio. ‘This is your destiny, Luca,’ his father had added. ‘You cannot refuse the request of a dying man.’

Luca had no intention of doing so, but the thought of marrying a simpering princess held no appeal. The royal marriage mart, as he thought of it, didn’t come close to his love of being with his people. He would leave here and travel to his lemon groves in southern Italy, where he worked alongside the other holiday workers. There was no better way for him to learn what concerns they had, and to do something to help. The thought of being shackled to a fragile china doll appalled him. He wanted a real woman with grit and fire inside her belly.

‘There are good women out there, Luca,’ his father, the Prince, had insisted. ‘It’s up to you to find one. Pick someone strong. Search for the unusual. Step off the well-trodden path.’

At the time Luca had thought this wouldn’t be easy. Looking around today, he thought it impossible.

* * *

As funerals went, this one was small, but respectable. Callie had made sure of it. It was small in as much as the only people to mourn her father’s passing, other than herself, were their next-door neighbours, the rumbustious Browns. It was a respectable and quiet affair, because Callie had always felt she should counterbalance her father’s crude and reckless life. There couldn’t be two of them wondering where their next meal was coming from. If it hadn’t been for her friends, the Browns, laughing with her at whatever life threw up, and reminding her to have fun while she could without offending other people, as her father so often had, she’d have been tearing her hair out by now.

The Brown tribe was on its best behaviour today—if she didn’t count their five dogs piling out of their camper van to career around the country cemetery barking wildly, but they’d given Callie a glimpse of what a happy family life could be, and, in her heart of hearts, love and a happy family was what she aspired to.

‘Goodbye, Dad,’ she whispered, regretting everything they’d never been to each other as she tossed a handful of moist, cool soil on top of the coffin.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ Ma said, putting her capable arm around Callie’s shoulders. ‘The worst part is over. Your life is about to begin. It’s a book of blank pages. You can write anything on it. Close your eyes and think where you’d like to be. That’s what always makes me happy. Isn’t it, our Rosie?’

Rosie Brown, Callie’s best friend and the Browns’ oldest child, came to link arms with Callie on her other side. ‘That’s right, Ma. The world’s your oyster, Callie. You can do anything you want. And sometimes,’ Rosie added, ‘you have to listen to the advice of people you trust, and let them help you.’

‘Anywhere ten pounds will take me?’ Callie suggested, finding a grin.

Rosie sighed. ‘Anywhere has to be better than staying round the docks—sorry, Ma, I know you love it here, but you know what I’m getting at. Callie needs a change.’

By the time they’d all crammed into the van, Callie was feeling better. Being with the Browns was like taking a big dose of optimism, and, after the lifetime of verbal and physical abuse she’d endured keeping house for her father, she was ready for it. She was free. For the first time in her life she was free. There was only one question now: how was she going to use that freedom?

‘Don’t even think about work,’ Ma Brown advised as she swivelled around in the front seat to speak to Callie. ‘Our Rosie can take over your shift at the pub for now.’

‘Willingly,’ Rosie agreed, giving Callie’s arm a squeeze. ‘What you need is a holiday.’

‘It would have to be a working holiday,’ Callie said thoughtfully. ‘I don’t have enough money to go away.’ Her father had left nothing. The house they’d lived in was rented. He’d been both a violent drunk and a gambler. Callie’s job as a cleaner at the pub just about paid enough to put food on the table, and then only if she didn’t leave the money lying around for him to spend at the bookies.

‘Think about what you’d like to do,’ Ma Brown insisted. ‘It’s your turn now, our Callie.’

She liked studying. She wanted to better herself. She aspired to do more than clean up the pub. Her dream was to work in the open, with fresh air to breathe, and the sun on her face.

‘You never know,’ Ma added, shuffling around in her seat again. ‘When we clear out the house tomorrow your father might have left a wad of winnings in his clothes by mistake.’

Callie smiled wryly. She knew they’d be lucky to find a few coppers. Her father never had any money. They wouldn’t have survived at all without the Browns’ bounty. Pa Brown had an allotment where he grew most of their vegetables himself, and he always gave some to Callie.

‘Don’t forget you can stay with us as long as you need to, until you get yourself sorted out,’ Ma Brown called out from the passenger seat.

‘Thank you, Ma.’ Leaning forward, Callie gave Ma’s cheek a fond kiss. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’d do more than all right,’ Ma Brown insisted firmly. ‘You’ve always been capable, and now you’re free to fly as high as your mother always intended. She used to dream about her baby and what that baby would do. It’s a tragic shame that she didn’t live to see you grow up.’

She’d soon find out what she could and couldn’t do, Callie thought as the Browns and their dogs piled out of the steamed-up van. She couldn’t stick around for long. She’d be a burden to the Browns. They had enough to do keeping their own heads above water. Once her father’s debts were paid, she’d go exploring. Maybe Blackpool. The air was bracing there. Blackpool was a traditional northern English seaside town with bags of personality, and plenty of boarding houses looking for cleaning staff. She’d research jobs there the first spare minute she got.

* * *

It would have been a grim task sorting through her father’s things the next morning, if it hadn’t been for the cheerful Browns. Ma checked every room, while Callie and Rosie sorted everything into piles for the charity shops, things that could possibly be sold, and those that were definitely going to the dump. The sale pile was disappointingly small. ‘I never realised how much rubbish we had before,’ Callie admitted.

‘Mean old bugger,’ Ma Brown commented. ‘He probably took it with him,’ she added with a sniff.

‘I doubt there was anything to find in the first place,’ Callie placated. She knew her father’s ways only too well when it came to money.

‘Nothing left after he’d been gambling and boozing, I expect,’ Ma Brown agreed, disapprovingly pursing her lips.

‘Well, that’s where you’re both wrong,’ Rosie exclaimed with triumph as she flourished a five-pound note. ‘Look what I’ve found!’

‘Well, our Callie!’ Ma Brown began to laugh as Rosie handed it over to her friend. ‘Riches indeed. What are you going to do with it?’

‘Nothing sensible, I hope,’ Rosie insisted as Callie stared at the grubby banknote in amazement. ‘It’s not even enough to buy a drink, let alone a decent meal.’

She would rather have her father back either way, Callie thought, which was strange after all the years of trying to win his love, and coming to accept that there was no love in him. ‘I’ll put it in the charity tin at the corner shop,’ she mused out loud.

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Ma Brown insisted. ‘I’m taking charge of this,’ she said as she snatched the banknote out of Callie’s hand.

‘Think of it as an early Christmas present from your father,’ Rosie soothed when she saw Callie’s distress. ‘Ma will do something sensible with it.’

‘It would be the first gift he’d ever given her,’ Ma Brown grumbled. ‘And as for doing something sensible with it?’ She winked. ‘I’ve got other ideas.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Callie said with a weak smile, hoping the subject would go away now.

Knowing her friend was upset beneath her humour, Rosie quickly changed the subject and it wasn’t spoken of again. The next Callie heard of their surprise find was at supper with the Browns. When the girls had finished clearing up, Ma Brown folded her arms and beamed, a sure sign of an announcement.

‘Now then, our Callie, before you say anything, we know you don’t gamble and we know why you don’t gamble, but just this once you’re going to take something from me, and say thank you and nothing else.’

Callie tensed when she saw the five-pound scratch card Ma Brown was holding out.

‘You’ll need something to scratch the card,’ Pa observed matter-of-factly as he dug in his pocket for some loose change.

‘Close your eyes and imagine where all that money’s going to take you,’ Rosie urged, glancing at the other Browns to will them to persuade Callie that this could be a good thing if she got lucky.

‘All what money?’ Callie had to smile when the Browns fell silent. Silence was such a rare occurrence in this household, she couldn’t let them down.

‘It’s time for a change of luck,’ Rosie pressed. ‘What have you got to lose?’

The Browns had been nothing but kind. The money she’d get from the scratch card would likely take her as far as the hearth to toss it in the fire when it proved a dud. ‘Close my eyes and imagine myself somewhere I’ve always dreamed of...’

‘Open your eyes and scratch the bloody card,’ Ma Brown insisted.

As everyone burst out laughing Callie sat down at the table and started scratching the surface of the card.

‘Well?’ Ma Brown prompted. ‘Don’t tease us. Tell us what you’ve got.’

‘Five. Thousand. Pounds.’

No one said a word. Seconds ticked by. ‘What did you say?’ Rosie prompted.

‘I’ve won five thousand pounds.’

The Browns exploded with excitement, and the next few hours were spent in a fury of mad ideas. Opening a pie and peas shop next to the pub, a sandwich bar to serve the local business park. ‘I want to give my money to you,’ Callie insisted.

‘Not a chance.’ Ma Brown crossed her capable arms across her capacious chest, and that was the end of it.

Callie made up her mind to put some of it aside for them, anyway.

‘You could buy all the rescue dogs in the world,’ one young Brown called Tom said optimistically.

‘Or a second-hand car,’ another boy exclaimed.

‘Why don’t you spend it all on clothes?’ one of the girls proposed. ‘You’ll never get another chance to fill your wardrobe.’

What wardrobe? Callie thought. Her worldly possessions were contained in a zip-up bag, but she smiled and went along with this idea and they all had some fun with it for a while.

‘It isn’t a fortune and our Callie should do something that makes her happy,’ Pa Brown said. ‘It should be something she’s always dreamed of, that she will remember for ever. She’s had little enough fun in her life up to now, and this is her chance.’

The room went quiet. No one had heard Pa Brown give such a long speech before. Ma Brown always spoke for him, if the dogs and his brood weren’t drowning him out.

‘Well, our Callie,’ Ma Brown prompted. ‘Have you got any thoughts on the subject?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Callie said, surprising herself as she thought of it.

‘Not Blackpool,’ Rosie said, rolling her eyes. ‘We can go there any weekend we like.’

‘Well?’ the Browns chorused, craning forward.

Reaching for the television guide, Callie opened it out flat on the table. There was a double-page spread, a travel feature, showing vibrant green lemon groves hung heavily with yellow fruit. A young family of husband, wife and two children capered across the grass, staring out towards unimaginable adventures. The headline read: Visit Italy.

‘Why not?’ Callie said as all the Browns fell silent. ‘I can dream, can’t I?’

‘You can more than dream now,’ Ma Brown pointed out with her usual common sense.

But by this time, Callie was already putting her dream on the back burner in favour of a far more realistic plan. Perhaps a weekend in a small coastal resort nearby. She could look for a job while she was there.

‘Think big. Think Italy,’ Rosie insisted.

‘That would be a proper memory, all right,’ Pa Brown agreed.

Callie stared out of the window at a grey, dismal scene. Like the rented house where she’d grown up, the Browns’ opened out onto the street, but the people passing by outside had their shoulders hunched against the cold. The photo in the magazine promised something very different. Rather than traffic fumes and bed socks, there’d be sunshine and fruit trees. She glanced at the page again. It was like a window opening onto another world. The colours were extraordinary. The people in the shot might be models, but they surely couldn’t fake that happiness, or the sense of freedom on their faces.

‘Italy,’ Ma Brown commented, her lips pressing down as she thought about it. ‘You’ll need some new clothes for that. Don’t look so worried, our Callie. You won’t need to spend much. You can do very well on the high street.’

Rosie clearly had other ideas and frowned at her mother. ‘This is Callie’s chance to have something special,’ she whispered.

‘And she should,’ Pa Brown agreed, picking up on this. ‘Goodness knows, she’s gone without long enough.’

‘A mix, then,’ Ma Brown conceded. ‘High Street with designer flourishes.’ And with that healing remark the family was content.

‘Amalfi,’ Callie breathed as copying the idea in the magazine took shape in her mind. The thought of a short trip to Italy made her head reel with excitement. A change of scene was what she needed before she started the next phase of her life, and the win had made it possible.

‘All that wonderful sunshine and delicious food, not to mention the music,’ Rosie commented with her hand on her heart as she thought about it.

All that romance and the Italian men, Callie’s inner devil whispered seductively. She blanked out the voice. She had always been cautious when it came to romance. She’d had too many duties at home to be frivolous, and too many opportunities to witness first-hand how violent men could be.

‘Come on, our Callie. Where’s your sense of adventure?’ Ma Brown demanded as all the Browns murmured encouragement.

She was free to do as she liked, so why not don a glamorous dress and designer heels for once? A few days of being not Callie was more than tempting, it was a possibility now. Just this once, the good girl could unleash her fun side—if she could still find it.

CHAPTER TWO

HE NOTICED THE woman sitting at the bar right away. Even from behind she was attractive. It was something in the way she held herself, and her relaxed manner with his friend, Marco, the barman. He’d just ended a call with Max, and was in the worst of moods. Max had lost no time in Luca’s absence causing unrest in Fabrizio. Max had been a thorn in his side since they were boys. Thanks to his mischief, Luca should not be visiting his beautiful lemon groves on the Amalfi coast, but should return immediately to Fabrizio, but this was an annual pilgrimage to a place he loved amidst people he cared for, and nothing, not even Max, could distract him from that. Though on this occasion, he could only spare a couple of nights here.

The woman was a distraction. She was watching everyone come in through the mirrors behind the bar. Was she waiting for a lover? He felt a stab of jealousy and wondered why he cared when she could just as easily be waiting for a family member, or for a friend.

He’d dropped by the hotel to invite Marco to the annual celebrations at the start of the lemon-picking season. He and Marco had grown up together, as Marco’s father had worked for the late Prince. Standing at the end of the bar where he could talk discreetly to Marco when he was free, he saw the woman clearly for the first time. She was confident and perky, and obviously enjoying the chance to trial the Italian language. Laughter lit her face when she got something wrong and Marco corrected her.

Feeling mildly irritated by their obvious rapport, he returned to working her out. Her profile was exquisite, though she seemed unaware of this, just as she seemed unaware of the appeal of her slight, though voluptuous body. She was understated, unlike his usual, sophisticated type. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. Dressed impeccably, though plainly for this setting in one of the coast’s most famous hotels, as if she was playing a role, she was almost too perfect. Her red hair was lush and shiny, cut short for practicality, rather than fashion, he guessed. Her eyes were green and up-tilted, giving her a faintly exotic look. A light tan and freckles suggested she’d been here no more than a week and lived somewhere cooler.

This was a lot of thought to expend on a woman who seemed unaware of his interest. Or was she? His groin tightened when she turned to stare at him boldly and was in no hurry to look away.

Interesting.

‘Good evening.’ After politely acknowledging the woman, he gave Marco a look that left his friend in no doubt that Luca wished to remain incognito.

Sensing mischief afoot, Marco grinned. They exchanged the usual complicated handshake, while the woman looked on with interest. She was even more beautiful than he’d first thought. Her scent was intoxicating. Wildflowers. How appropriate, he thought as Marco left them to go and serve another customer. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’

She levelled a stare on his face. ‘Do I know you?’

The bluntness of her question took him by surprise, as did her forthright tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marco lift a brow. His friend would call security if Luca gave the word, and the woman would be politely moved on. An almost imperceptible shake of Luca’s head knocked that idea out of court.

‘My name is Luca,’ he told her as he extended his hand in greeting.

She ignored his hand. Intelligent eyes, framed by long black eyelashes, viewed him with suspicion.

‘I don’t believe we’ve met,’ he pressed, waiting for her to volunteer her name. ‘I don’t bite,’ he added when she continued to withhold her hand.

‘But you’re very persistent,’ she said, making it clear there would be no physical contact between them.

Persistent? Outwardly, he remained deadpan. Inwardly, he cracked up. Women referred to his charm and thought him attentive. Clearly, this woman had other ideas. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘Fizzy water, please,’ she replied.

Turning to Marco, he murmured, ‘Aqua frizzante per la signorina, e lo stesso per me, per favore.’

‘Sì, signor,’ Marco replied, serving up two sparkling waters.

Her gaze remained steady on his as she took her first sip. There wasn’t a hint of simpering or recognition in her eyes, just that desirable mouth smiling faintly. Even now she’d had time to think about it, he was a man in a bar and that was it. She had no idea who he was, and would trust him as far as a glass of water was concerned, but no further. If she was unaware that his face had been plastered all over the news lately, since he’d ascended the throne of Fabrizio, something big must have happened in her life.

So, beautiful mystery woman, he mused as she returned his interest coolly, who are you, and what are you doing in Amalfi?

* * *

Straightening the short silk skirt on her designer dress, Callie wished she had worn the Capri pants Rosie had insisted were essential to Callie’s Italian adventure instead. So chic, Rosie had said as Callie had turned full circle, wishing she could get away with a new pair of jeans and a top. The Capris were still in the wardrobe upstairs in the hotel, as she’d been unsure which shoes to wear with them.

At least Capris would have been decent. The dress was anything but. Far too short, it was enticing. She could only imagine what this incredible-looking man had thought when he’d first seen her perched at the bar. How could she convey the fact that she wasn’t here for that type of business, and that this was, in fact, a holiday? The thought of an Italian adventure had excited her, but she hadn’t envisaged such a dynamite opening scene. She fell well short compared to the other, more sophisticated women in the bar. There was barely enough fabric in her skirt to cover her fundamentals. She couldn’t move for fear of it riding up, and with her naked thigh so close to the man’s denim-clad muscles, that was a pressing concern.

‘You didn’t tell me your name.’

She turned to look at him as the dark velvet voice, with its seductive hint of an Italian accent, rolled over her. Strange how sound could send shivers spinning up and down her spine. Her chin felt as if it had half a universe to travel, as she moved from scrutinising his muscular thighs, to staring into a pair of mesmerising black eyes. Mesmerising and amused, she noticed now. He hadn’t missed her fascination with the area below his belt. Her cheeks burned as she volunteered with a direct stare into his eyes, ‘My name is Callista.’

His lips pressed down in the most attractive way, drawing her attention to the fact that his mouth was almost as expressive and beautiful as his eyes. ‘Greek for most beautiful,’ he remarked. ‘That explains everything.’

‘Really?’ She did her best to simper and then hardened her tone. ‘I’ve heard of people being born with silver spoons in their mouths, but yours must have been coated in sugar.’

He laughed, and then affected a wounded expression. ‘I’m crushed,’ he exclaimed, holding both hands to his powerful chest.

‘No, you’re not,’ she insisted good-humouredly, starting to like him more now he’d proved to have a sense of humour. ‘You’re the most together person I’ve ever met.’

He smiled. ‘So what is Callista the huntress doing on her own in a hotel bar?’

‘Not what you think,’ she flashed back.

‘What I think?’ he queried.

‘What are you doing on your own in the bar?’ she countered.

He laughed again, a blinding flash of strong white teeth against his impressive tan. ‘I’m here to see the barman. What’s your excuse?’

‘A holiday.’ She levelled a stare on his face. ‘What do you do for a living?’

The bluntness of her question seemed to take him by surprise, but he soon recovered. ‘This and that.’

‘This and that, what?’ she pressed.

‘I guess you could call me a representative.’

‘What do you sell?’

‘I promote a country’s interests, its culture, industry and people.’

‘Ah, so you’re in the tourism business,’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s nice.’ And when he nodded, she asked, ‘Which country do you represent?’

‘Are you staying here long?’ he asked, changing the subject.

The fact he’d ignored her question didn’t escape her notice and she gave him a suspicious look. Then, obviously deciding it couldn’t do any harm to tell him a little more, she added, ‘Not long enough.’

She was enjoying the man’s company and decided to prolong the exchange. He excited her. It was no use pretending when every nerve ending she possessed was responding with enthusiasm to the wicked expression in his laughing black eyes. She’d never flirted before, and was surprised to find she rather liked it. This man could turn her insides warm and needy with a look.

‘Have you been dancing yet?’ he enquired, shooting her an interested look.

‘Is that an invitation?’

‘Do you want it to be?’

‘No, sadly.’ She gave him a crooked smile. ‘These shoes are killing me.’ Twirling a foot, she stared ruefully at the delicate designer shoes with their stratospheric spiky heels. Could anyone walk in them?

‘You could always slip them off and dance,’ he suggested.

As he spoke a band struck up for the evening’s entertainment somewhere outside on the terrace. Imagine dancing beneath a canopy of stars, she thought. How romantic. She glanced at her companion, and immediately wished she hadn’t. He really did have the wickedest black eyes, which, for some reason, made her think of slowly stripping off her clothes while he watched. She shivered inwardly at the thought. What she should be doing was making it clear that she didn’t pick up men in bars. She should collect up her things, get down from the stool and walk away. It was that easy.

Sex with him would be fun. And seriously good.

What was wrong with her? This wasn’t the type of simmering heat she’d read about in novels and magazines, but hot, feral lust, that promised very adult pleasures indeed.

‘You are extremely entertaining, signorina.’

‘Really?’ Goodness, she hadn’t meant to be. He certainly was. Sensuality emanated from him. If she embarked on her Italian adventure with Luca, it could only lead to one place. Fantastic! Callie’s inner harlot rejoiced, so now the thought of lying close to him, skin to skin, with those strong, lean hands controlling her pleasure—

‘Signorina?’

‘Yes?’ She blinked and refocused on his eyes...his disturbingly experienced eyes. However attractive and compelling she found him, she had to be careful not to take these newfound flirting skills too far. So the adventure of a lifetime is over before it begins? The adventure of a lifetime was great in theory, but in practice it threatened all sorts of unknown pleasures—dangers, Callie corrected her inner demon firmly. She had more sense than to let things go too far. Concentrating fiercely on her glass of water, she tried not to notice Luca’s brutal masculinity as it warred with her inner prude. She gave up in the end. He’d won this point. He was far better at flirting than she was.

What else was he good at?

Stop that now! Didn’t she have enough to contend with—a crotch-skimming skirt, and heels custom-made to prevent a stylish exit—without going head to head with a sex god in jeans?

‘Another aqua frizzante, signorina?’

How did Luca make that simple question sound so risqué? ‘Yes, please.’

Oh, so her sensible self was on holiday too?

She wanted to know more about him. What was wrong with that? Chances like this didn’t come around every day. So shoot me if I’m easy. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. And, anyway, why should she be the one to go?

Marco quickly refilled her glass and Luca handed it to her. She sucked in a sharp breath as their fingers touched. He was like an incendiary device to her senses. Using the mirror behind the bar, she surveyed the other men in the room to see if any compared. No, was the simple answer. They were all without exception safe-looking guys, dressed neatly in business suits. There was no one else slouched on one hip, wearing extremely well-packed jeans and a crisp white shirt open a few buttons at the neck to reveal a shading of dark hair. She jumped guiltily when she realised that Luca was staring back at her through the mirror.

‘Taking everything in?’ he suggested with that same wicked look.

He couldn’t be interested in her. It didn’t make any sense with so many attractive women in the bar. Had he heard she’d won some money? He might be a particularly good-looking con man on the make, though he didn’t seem in need of cash and Marco the barman seemed to know him. Having survived her father, she had no intention of falling for a good-looking man simply because he was charming.

Falling for him?

‘You’re frowning, signorina,’ Luca murmured in a way that made all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. ‘I hope I’m not the cause of your concern?’

‘Not at all,’ she said briskly as his direct stare sped straight to her core where it caused havoc all over again. On any level Luca was concerning. Lacking airs and graces, with his rugged good looks he could easily be a roustabout from the docks. Equally he could be a practised seducer. And now was not the time for her body to shout hallelujah! Instead, she should be thanking him for the drink and walking away. ‘Would you like a nut?’ she asked instead. Luca grinned and raised a brow in a way that thrilled her. ‘Before I eat them all,’ she added in a tone that told him not to tease as she pushed the bowl towards him.

‘It would be easier and far tastier to come out to supper with me,’ he said, angling his chin to stare her in the eyes.

Not a chance. That would be courting danger.

‘Supper?’ Luca pressed. ‘Or more nuts?’

She glanced with embarrassment at the almost empty dish—and gasped with shock when Luca took hold of her hand. She had never felt such a shock at a physical connection with another human being. The disappointment when she realised he’d only taken hold of her hand to steady it as he poured the last few nuts from the dish onto her palm was humiliating.

‘Enjoy your supper, signorina,’ he said, straightening up.

‘You’re going?’

‘Will you miss me?’

‘Only if I run out of nuts.’

He huffed a laugh that made her heart race like crazy. ‘You could come with me.’

She could singe her wings and crash back down to earth too. ‘No, thank you.’ She smiled, a little wistfully, maybe, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Luca was like a magnet drawing her into danger with those dark laughing eyes. She was enjoying this newfound flirting skill far too much. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your supper.’

‘I choose to be here.’

The way he spoke made breath hitch in her throat. The way he looked at her made everything inside her go crazy. It was everything about him, the Italian accent, his deep, husky voice, and his ridiculous good looks, and perhaps most of all the mesmerising stillness of his magnificent body. She was hypnotised—and determinedly shook herself round.

‘Signorina?’

He was waiting for her decision.

‘Enjoy your supper.’ She wanted to go with him. She wanted to be a bad girl for once in her life. Bad girls had more fun. But then she would have to live with regret. How could she not? She would regret sleeping with him and not knowing him better. She would regret not sleeping with him, and never having the chance again.

‘Enjoy your nuts—’

She couldn’t believe it when he walked away. Oh, well, that was that, then. Everything went flat when he walked out of the door, and he didn’t look back. He hadn’t suggested they meet again, and he hadn’t asked for her number. She’d probably done herself a favour, Callie reassured herself. He’d expect too much, more than she was prepared to give, anyway.

Saying goodnight to Marco, she got down from the barstool. She felt impatient with herself as she walked away. She couldn’t miss a man she didn’t know. She’d feel better once she was back in her room. She might have dressed up tonight, as per Rosie and Ma Brown’s instructions, but she was still Callie from the docks inside. But not for long, Callie decided when she reached her room. She couldn’t hang around the hotel aimlessly; she had to do something—get out, see more of the real Italy. This trip was supposed to be an adventure. She wasn’t tied to the past, or frightened of the future. Roll on tomorrow, she thought as she climbed into bed, and whatever it might hold.

* * *

As soon as he got back to the palazzo he called Marco. ‘Who is that woman?’

‘Signorina Callista Smith? Staying at the hotel on her own, if that’s what you’re asking, my friend.’

‘Am I so obvious?’

Marco barked a laugh down the phone. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you know anything else about her?’

‘Only that she comes from the north of England and that her father died recently, so this is a rebooting exercise for Callie. That’s how she described it while we were chatting. And that’s all I know about her.’

‘Okay. It explains a lot, though I’d guessed some of it.’

‘And?’ Marco prompted.

‘And it’s none of your business,’ Luca told his old friend. ‘See you on the estate for the celebrations tomorrow night?’

‘The start of the lemon-picking season,’ Marco confirmed. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but can you spare the time? I thought Max was kicking off in Fabrizio.’

‘I have controls in place to keep Max on a leash.’

‘Financial controls?’ Marco guessed.

‘Correct,’ Luca said calmly. Max’s allowance was generous under their father’s rule, and was even more so now that Luca had the means to increase it. Max had never liked to work and with no other source of income he looked to Luca to support him.

‘And before you ask,’ Marco added, ‘Signorina Smith is booked into the hotel for another few days.’

‘You’ve been checking up on her?’

Marco laughed. ‘You sound suspicious. Do you care?’

He was surprised to discover that he did. ‘Back off, Marco.’

‘That sounds like a warning.’

‘And maybe I’ve discovered a conscience,’ Luca suggested. ‘She’s innocent and she’s alone, and you are neither of those things.’

‘You feel responsible for her already?’ Marco commented knowingly. ‘This sounds serious.’

‘I’m a caring citizen,’ Luca remarked dryly.

‘I’ll do as you say,’ Marco offered with his customary good humour. ‘And I’ll watch with interest to see how long your concern for Signorina Smith’s innocence lasts.’

He told Marco what he could do with his interest in Callista Smith in no uncertain terms, reminded him about the celebrations, and then cut the line.

What was he doing? He was a driven man with a country to care for, and a practically out-of-control brother to deal with. And he had to find a bride to provide an heir and continue the dynasty. He shouldn’t be wasting time on contemplating an affair—wouldn’t be, if he hadn’t found Signorina Smith so appealing. He had to remind himself that she was an ingénue with her life ahead of her, and, yes, everything to learn. If they never saw each other again it would be better for both of them. She should learn about sex and the harsh realities of life from a man who could make time for her.

Just don’t let me run into that man, Luca reflected dryly as he sank into the custom-moulded seat of his favoured bright red sports car. He’d have to kill him. No! He had no time to waste on romancing a woman who might have intrigued him tonight, but who would surely bore him by tomorrow when she proved to be as shallow as the rest.

Gunning the engine, he drove into town with his head full of Callista Smith. He planned to eat at his favourite restaurant. She should have been with him. Top international chefs worked at the palazzo, but Signorina Smith had put him in the mood for more robust fare. Tomorrow he would work alongside his seasonal staff in the lemon groves. In lieu of more challenging distractions, for which he had to thank Signorina Smith for providing some very entertaining images to keep him awake tonight, he’d fuel up on good food instead.

‘Hey, Luca... Alone tonight?’ The restaurant owner, who’d known Luca since he was a suspicious child tagging along behind his newly adoptive father, rushed out of the kitchen to give him a warm hug.

‘Unfortunately yes. But don’t worry. I can eat enough for two.’

‘You always had a huge appetite,’ the elderly owner approved.

True, Luca mused dryly as he ran his experienced eye over the women seated at the tables. They all stared at him with invitation in their eyes, but not one of them had the power to hold his interest. Not like Callista Smith.

* * *

She was surely the most ungrateful person in the world, Callie concluded as she woke to yet another day of sublime Italian sunshine. And frowned. She was staying in the most beautiful place imaginable in the most fabulous hotel, and yet still she felt as if something was missing. But how could that be, when she was nestled up in crisp white sheets, scented with lavender and sunshine, wearing the ice-blue, pure cotton nightdress trimmed with snowy white lace that Ma Brown had said Callie must have for her trip of a lifetime.

If money can’t make me happy, what can I do next?

Well, she’d spent most of the money on staying at this hotel, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her win on the scratch card and what it felt like to have some extra cash at her disposal for too much longer, Callie concluded with her usual optimism. Leaping out of bed, she threw the windows open and the view snatched the breath from her lungs. Steep white cliffs dropped down to pewter beaches where the shoreline was fringed by the brightest blue water she’d ever seen. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Flowers and freshly baked bread, overlaid by the faint tang of ozone, prompted her to take a second breath, just so she could appreciate the first.

What was so terrible about this?

She was lonely, Callie concluded. She missed the Browns. She missed her colleagues at work. Maybe it hadn’t been much fun at home with her father being drunk most of the time, but the Browns more than made up for it, and even caring for her father had taken on a regular and predictable pattern. She still felt sad when she thought about him and his wasted life. He could have made so much more of himself with his natural charm and undeniable good looks, but instead had chosen to gamble and drink his life away, putting his trust in unreliable friends, rather than in his daughter Callie, or the Browns.

It was no use dwelling on it. She was determined to make a go of the rest of her life, which meant that decisions had to be made. She wasn’t going to sit around in the hotel doing nothing for the rest of her stay. Nor was she going to monopolise Marco and risk bumping into the man with the devastating smile again. Luca was out of her league, the stuff of fairy tales. She had wracked her brains to try to find a film star or a celebrity who could eclipse him and had come up short. There was no one. It wasn’t just that Luca was better looking, or had presence to spare, but the fact that he was so down to earth and made her laugh. And thrill. She liked him so much it frightened her, because that wasn’t normal, surely? You couldn’t just meet a man in a bar and never stop thinking about him...imagining his arms around her, his lips pressed to hers...body pressed to hers... That was ridiculous! She was being ridiculous, Callie concluded, pulling away from the window to retreat into the airy room. She could fantasise about Luca all she liked—well, had done for most of the night, but she had enough sense to stay well away.

‘Room service...’

She turned and hurried across the room to answer the door. ‘Sorry I took so long. I slept in today.’

‘I can come back,’ the young maid offered.

‘No. Please,’ Callie exclaimed. ‘Your English is very good. Can I ask you something before you go?’

‘Of course. My name is Maria,’ the young woman supplied in answer to Callie’s enquiring look. ‘If I can help you, I will.’

Maria wasn’t much older than Callie. Her long dark hair was neatly drawn back, but her black eyes were mischievous, and she had the warmth of Italy about her that Callie was fast becoming used to. ‘If you wanted to work outside in the sunshine, Maria—we don’t get very much where I come from,’ Callie explained ruefully. ‘Where would you look for a job?’

‘Oh, that’s easy.’ Maria’s face brightened. ‘This is the start of the lemon-picking season when the demand for casual labour is at its highest. There’s a big estate belonging to the Prince just outside town. They’re always looking for temporary staff at this time of year.’

‘The Prince’s estate?’ Callie exclaimed. ‘That sounds grand.’

‘It’s very friendly,’ Maria assured her. ‘It must be for the same people to come back year after year.’

‘Do you think I could get a job there?’

‘Why not?’ Maria frowned. ‘But why would you want to work as a picker?’

Callie could see that it must seem odd for her to be staying at a five-star hotel, yet jumping at the chance to work in the fields. ‘I need a change,’ she admitted, ‘and I’d love to work in the open air.’

‘I can understand that,’ Maria agreed. ‘I’d go today if I were you, so you don’t miss the party.’

‘The party?’ Callie queried.

‘There’s always a party at the beginning of the season,’ Maria explained, ‘as well as at the end. Apart from exporting lemons around the world, they make the famous liquor Limoncello on the Prince’s estate, and his parties are always the best.’

‘Is the Prince very old?’

Maria snorted a laugh. ‘Old? He’s the hottest man around.’

Two of the best-looking men in one town seemed impossible, but as she wasn’t likely to bump into the Prince, and was determined to avoid Luca, her heart could slow down and take a rest. ‘I can’t thank you enough for this information,’ she told Maria.

‘If there’s anything else you need, anything at all, Signorina—’

‘Call me Callie. You never know when we’ll meet again,’ Callie added, thrilled at the prospect of having a real goal to aim for.

‘In the lemon groves, maybe,’ Maria suggested.

‘In the lemon groves,’ Callie agreed, feeling excited already at the thought of working in lemon groves that she’d only seen in a photograph before.

She was excited and couldn’t wait to embark on her new plan, Callie mused as she took her shower. She wouldn’t be Callie from the docks for much longer, she’d be Callie from the lemon groves, and that had a much better ring to it.

* * *

This was his favourite place in the world, Luca concluded as he swung a stack of crates onto the back of a truck. Hard, physical labour beneath a blazing sun, surrounded by people he loved, who couldn’t have cared less if he were a prince or a pauper. Max had been dealt with for now, and was cooling off after his drunken rampage in the local jail, Luca’s royal council had informed him. He should take this last chance to celebrate at the party tonight, his most trusted aide Michel had insisted. ‘I’ll come back right away, if you need me,’ he’d told Michel. Luca had never resented the shackles of royal duty. He felt humbled by them, and honoured that the late Prince had trusted him with the responsibility of caring for a country and its people. The only downside was picking a princess to sit at his side, when so far none of the candidates had appealed to him.

To lie at his side, to lie beneath him, to give him children.

He ground his jaw and thought about Callista. She could lie at his side and lie beneath him, though he doubted she’d remain calm or accepting for long. If he were any judge, she’d want to ride him as vigorously as he thought about riding her, with pleasurable thoroughness and for the longest possible time. Callista had more spirit in her little finger than all the available princesses put together possessed in their limp and unappealing bodies. But the fact remained: he had to choose a wife soon. His father’s elderly retainer, Michel, had point-blank refused to retire until Luca took a wife. ‘I promised your father I’d watch over you,’ Michel had said. ‘What this country needs is a young family to inject life and vitality into Fabrizio, to lead the country forward into the future.’

He’d sort it, Luca concluded. He always did. The buzz of interest surrounding him at his father’s funeral suggested suitable breeding stock wouldn’t be too hard to find. A very agreeable image of Callista chose that moment to flash into his mind. Callista naked. Giving as good as she got, verbally, as well as in every other way. She might be young and inexperienced, but her down-to-earth manner promised the type of robust pleasure that an insipid princess would be incapable of providing.

And how does this advance my hunt for a wife?

Loading the last crate of lemons, he groaned as he remembered Michel’s words: ‘Yours will be a bountiful reign with a harvest of children as abundant as the lemons on your estate,’ Michel had assured him. Right now it was Luca’s face that looked as if he’d sucked a lemon when he contemplated the current selection of brides.

Work over, he tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and eased his shoulders, grimacing as he thought about the stack of neglected folders on his desk. Leafing through them had confirmed his worst fears. All the princesses were excellent contenders for the role of his wife, but not one of them excited him.

What would Callista be doing now? She’d better not be sitting at that bar. He’d drag her out, and—

Really? He grinned, imagining her reaction to that. There was nothing insipid about Callista. She wouldn’t fall into line, or be content to bask mindlessly in luxury while working dutifully on creating an heir and a spare. Even Michel would find Callista difficult to lure into the royal fold.

Grazie a Dio! The last thing he needed was a headstrong woman fighting him every step of the way!

But a bolt of pure lust crashed through him as he imagined her in his arms. Finding a suitable princess could wait a few days.

* * *

Callie stared up in wonder at the royal gates marking the boundary of the Prince’s estate. They were everything she’d expected and more. They were regal and imposing with gilt-tipped spears crowning their impressive height, while lions, teeth bared, grinned down at her. ‘Hello,’ she murmured, giving them a wink. The lions scowled back.

‘Very welcoming,’ she managed on a dry throat. Should she be using another entrance? Was there a back entrance? Well, it was too late now. She was here. And then she spotted a notice. It was only about twelve feet high. ‘Numbskull,’ she muttered. Turning in the direction indicated by the bright red arrow, she walked over to a disappointingly modern control box attached to the far side of the gate. Pressing the button, she jumped with surprise when a metallic voice barked, ‘Sollevare la testa, si prega.’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Italian very well...’

‘Look up, please,’ the same metallic voice instructed.

She stared at the sky.

‘At the camera.’

Okay, numbskull squared, that small round lens just in front of me is a camera!

The metallic voice hadn’t shown any emotion, but Callie could imagine the person behind it rolling their eyes. Finally, she did as instructed.

‘The photograph is for security reasons,’ the metallic voice grated out. ‘If you don’t wish to enter the estate, please step back now.’

‘No—I do. I mean, yes. I’m here to apply for a job. I’m sorry if I should have used another entrance...’ Her mouth slammed shut as the massive gates swung open.

‘Report to the foreman in the first barn you come to.’

‘Yes, signor...um...signora?’ The sex of The Voice would remain a mystery for ever, Callie thought as she stepped into a very different world.

This was a world of control and order, Callie concluded, as well as extreme magnificence on every level. Awestruck, she stared down the length of an incredible avenue composed of a carpet of glistening, white marble beads. At the end of this lay a pink stone edifice, bleached almost white by the midday sun. Both elegant and enormous, the palazzo boasted turrets and towers that could have come straight from a book of fairy tales. Cinderella’s castle, she mused wryly. The driveway leading up to the palace was broad and long, with stately cypress trees lining the route like sentries. Butterflies darted amongst the colourful flowerbeds lining her way, and birds trilled a welcome as she walked along, but there was no sign of the barn The Voice had referred to.

‘Hey! Per di qua! This way!’

She turned at the sound of friendly voices to see more pickers following her into the palace grounds. They’d halted at what she could now see was the shrubbery-concealed entrance to a pathway.

Callie scolded herself as she hurried to join them. There was another sign, and it was a huge one, but she’d missed it completely, being too busy ogling her surroundings. The sign read, ‘Benvenuto ai nostro personale stagionale!’ Even she knew what that meant. ‘Welcome to our temporary staff!’

It was certainly a warmer greeting than the stained sheet of lined paper pinned up on the noticeboard outside the pub, which warned staff to use the back door not the front, on pain of immediate dismissal.

The pickers had waited for her and were all in high spirits. She blended right in with denim shorts and a loose cotton top, teamed with a pair of market-find trainers. She was ready and excited for whatever lay ahead. This was an adventure. This was what she’d been waiting for. This was something to tell the Browns.

It was good news to hear she could start right away and be paid in cash if she wanted. That suited Callie. She planned to check out of the posh hotel and move to a small bed and breakfast in town to extend her stay. She’d already called to confirm the B & B had rooms. She wanted to get to know the real Italy, and, with her father’s example behind her, she knew better than to fritter her money away. She’d tasted the high life, and was glad to have done so, but had come away feeling slightly let down. This was so much better, she concluded as she trooped out of the barn with the other pickers. There were no airs and graces here, and, more significantly, no need to wear those excruciatingly painful high-heeled shoes.

The Prince’s estate was like a small town. She hadn’t guessed how big it was from the road. There were dozens of gangs of pickers working throughout the spectacular lemon groves. This was heaven, Callie thought as she straightened up and paused for breath. Yes, the work was hard, but the sun was warm, the scent of lemons was intoxicating. She had thick gloves to protect her hands and a tool to pick the lemons that were out of reach. The camaraderie was incredible. Everyone wanted to help the newcomers. The party Maria had told her about at the hotel was definitely on tonight, and all the pickers were invited. What could possibly be better than this?

She soon returned to the rhythm of picking. With a lightweight bucket tied around her waist, dropping fruit into it as she went, she loaded the lemon gold into crates that were taken away on gleaming tractors. By the time the blazing sun had mellowed into the amber glow of early evening, she felt as if she’d been working there all her life.

She’d even made a new friend called Anita, a big, bonnie woman, as Ma Brown would have called her, with a ready smile as big as Texas. Anita came from the north of England each year to pick lemons, to feel the sun on her face, to prepare her for the long, cold winter, Anita said. ‘I’m on my own,’ she’d explained to Callie, ‘but when I come here, I have a ready-made family.’

That was when Callie told Anita about the Browns. ‘It’s people that make things special, isn’t it?’ she’d asked.

This wasn’t just a great way to extend her stay in Italy, Callie concluded as Anita offered to show her the way to the cookhouse, this was an entirely new slant on life, if she had the courage to seize it.

Seize it she would, Callie determined. Her limbs might be aching from all the unaccustomed exercise, but she felt exhilarated for the first time in years. This, this was freedom.

CHAPTER THREE

HER ADVENTURE HAD only just begun, Callie realised as excitement for the upcoming party built inside her. Anita had shown her to one of the many well-groomed courtyards surrounding the palace where the celebration was to be held. She couldn’t help glancing through the brilliantly lit windows of the palace, to see if she could spot the Prince. Of course, there was no one who looked remotely like a prince, and there was no special buzz in the crowd, so he probably wasn’t here. Anita and she accepted a small glass of iced Limoncello from a passing waiter and started to chat. They hadn’t been talking long before Callie felt compelled to turn around. She gasped. ‘Luca?’

‘Someone you know?’ Anita asked with surprise.

‘Sort of,’ Callie admitted. She’d just caught a glimpse of him, but now there was a crowd clustering round, so she could only see the top of his head. She wasn’t surprised by all the interest. It was his magnetism that had first gripped her. ‘He didn’t tell me he worked here,’ she told Anita.

‘He’s a regular—are you all right?’ Anita had been about to say something else about Luca, but was responding to the look on Callie’s face.

‘I’m absolutely fine,’ Callie insisted on a dry mouth. Which was an absolute lie. She had to put her glass down and cross her arms over her chest to hide her arousal as Luca looked at her. And he didn’t just glance her way. Their stares locked and held.

‘Uh-oh. He’s coming over,’ Anita warned. ‘I predict things are about to change for you,’ Anita commented sagely. She had to nudge Callie, who was as good as in a trance. ‘Better make myself scarce...’

‘No, Anita! Stay—’ Too late. Anita had already disappeared into the crowd.

Luca saluted Callie with a bottle of beer, and his slanting smile of recognition was infectious and made her smile too. Her heart raced out of control. It was so exciting to see him again. Too exciting. She should follow Anita. What was she thinking of, standing here, waiting for a man who looked as if he ate brass tacks for breakfast with a virgin on the side?

Quite simple, Callie concluded, lifting her chin. She didn’t run away from anything, and she wasn’t about to start now.

And he was quite a magnet. Luca looked better than ever in his banged-up work clothes. Swarthy-faced, with an unruly mop of thick black hair and an indecent amount of sharp black stubble, he was everything better avoided for those in search of a quiet life. But I’m here in search of adventure, Callie reminded herself with a secret inner grin. Tousled and rugged, with scratches on his powerful forearms and hard-muscled calves, he even looked sexy when he wiped smudges of dirt from his face with the back of his arm. The bonfire behind him was throwing off flames that provided the perfect showcase for a man who looked like a dark angel from hell come to wreak havoc on novice flirters.

‘Luca,’ she said pleasantly as he came over, acting as if her senses weren’t reeling.

‘Signorina Callista Smith,’ he countered with a slanting grin. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’

‘You know my name?’ He must have been talking to Marco the barman, Callie realised. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being discussed by the two men.

‘You can’t expect to be ignored, signorina.’

As Luca made a mock bow, she tried not to notice they’d become the centre of attention. She didn’t flatter herself that he’d picked her out for any particular reason. If he was a regular as Anita had suggested, she was fresh meat.

His top was tight and skimmed the waistband of his low-slung shorts. It was impossible not to notice the arrow of dark hair that swooped beneath his zipper, or indeed the quite preposterous bulge that lay beneath. To say he looked amazing was an understatement. Even when she tried to focus on something harmless, like his tanned feet in simple thonged sandals, she realised they were sexy too. Her interest travelled up his legs to powerful calves, and on again to where she definitely shouldn’t be looking. She had to stop this right now, and concentrate!

No! Not there!

She was about to meet a very challenging man for the second time, and she’d better be ready for it, Callie warned herself firmly. Fixing her gaze on Luca’s darkly amused face, she determined not to let her gaze wander, but then thought, why not stare? Luca had never been shy about staring at her, and interest wasn’t a one-way street. His bronzed and muscular torso, barely covered by the ripped and faded top, invited attention. He was an outstanding specimen. A statue should be raised in the town square for everyone to admire.

‘Nice to see you at the party,’ he said, smiling in that faint way he had that made her body burn. ‘I hope they’re serving nuts tonight.’

She gave him a look, half smile, half scolding. He’d stopped within touching distance. His heat enveloped her. And that voice. Dark chocolate tones strummed her senses until they were clamouring for the sort of pleasure she guessed Luca knew only too much about. He towered over her in a way that blocked out the light, which was enough to warn her to be careful. She didn’t stand in anyone’s shadow. ‘Are you here on your own?’ she asked, diplomatically stepping away.

‘I am,’ he confirmed.

His voice curled around her, making her skin tingle. ‘No one waiting for you back home?’ she enquired casually.

‘My dogs, my cats and the horses,’ he said.

‘I think you know what I mean,’ she insisted.

‘Do I?’ Luca stared at her in a way that made heat curl low in her belly. ‘Do you always put people you’ve only just met through the third degree?’

When they look like you, and have who knows what secrets, yes, I do, she thought. ‘That depends who I’m talking to,’ she said.

‘So why do I get the third degree?’

‘Do we have enough time?’ she demanded, and when he laughed, she said honestly, ‘I just didn’t expect to see you here, so it’s a bit of a surprise.’

‘A surprise I hope you’re getting used to?’

His black eyes were dancing with laughter, so, responding in kind, she shook her head and heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘I’m trying to be tactful, and I realise now that blunt is much easier for me.’

‘I’m with you there,’ he said. ‘So be blunt.’

‘Are you married?’ she asked flat out. ‘Or do you have a partner, a special friend?’

Luca grinned. ‘You weren’t joking about blunt.’

‘Correct,’ Callie confirmed. ‘Before I say another word, I need to know where I stand.’

‘Do I look married?’

‘That’s not an answer to my question,’ she complained. ‘In fact, I’d call it an evasion.’

‘I’m not married,’ Luca confirmed as she turned to go. She stilled when he caught hold of her arm. His touch was like an incendiary device to her senses. ‘I’m unattached, other than being briefly joined to you,’ he said as he lifted his hand away. She felt the loss of it immediately. ‘Does that satisfy your moral code?’

‘My moral compass is pointing in a more hopeful direction,’ she agreed.

‘You’re an intriguing woman, Callista Smith.’

‘Callie.’ She enjoyed the verbal sparring with him. ‘And you must have led a sheltered life.’

He laughed out loud at that suggestion, making her wish they could carry on provoking each other for the rest of the night. Electricity sparked between them. He made her feel good. Primal attraction, she thought. Sex, she warned herself flatly. Who couldn’t think about sex with Luca?

He looked like a natural-born hunter who thought he’d found his prey. While under her blunt manner, Callie was sugar and spice and all things nice, and determined to remain that way. Her body could argue all it liked that sugar and spice could still enjoy verbal sparring, but she had no intention of taking things any further. Luca might be everything she’d fantasised about while she was on her knees scrubbing floors in the pub, but this was reality, not a dream world, and the safest thing she could do now was leave. ‘I was about to go home,’ she explained, glancing away down the drive.

‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself?’

Too much. ‘I am.’ She couldn’t lie. She’d enjoyed everything about today, and now the food smelled amazing, the band was playing, and it was a beautifully warm evening beneath a canopy of stars. And then there was Luca. ‘But I’ve got work tomorrow.’

‘So do I,’ he said smoothly.

‘You’re making this difficult for me.’ And hard to breathe, she silently added.

‘Why deny yourself the reward for a hard day’s work?’

That depended on the reward. Good grief, he was beautiful! His stillness reminded her of a big, soft-pawed predator preparing to pounce. She didn’t need a wake-up call, Callie concluded. She needed a bucket of ice-cold water tossing over her head.

‘Hey, Luca!’

They both swung around to see Marco coming over. It broke the tension for a while as Luca greeted Marco, but once the two men were done with complicated handshakes and Marco moved on, the two of them were alone again. ‘I thought you’d have gone in search of nuts by now,’ Luca remarked dryly.

‘I was waiting to say goodbye to you.’

‘Ah.’

Was he convinced, Callie wondered, or had he guessed that she was trapped like a rabbit in headlights by his brazen masculinity?

‘So why are you here, mystery woman? You’re staying at a five-star hotel, but work in the fields picking lemons?’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ she challenged.

‘Nothing.’

‘Well, now we’ve got that sorted out, I’ll say goodnight.’ To give him his due, there was no more questions. Luca shrugged and stood aside to let her go, but as she passed he reached out to smooth a lock of hair from her face. His touch thrilled her. Her skin tingled, and her nipples tightened, while tiny pulses of sensation beat low down in her belly.

‘Stay,’ he insisted. ‘You’ll have more fun.’

That was what she was afraid of. ‘Should I be flattered by your suggestion?’ she asked coolly, searching his eyes.

‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘You should be on your guard.’

She made a point of glancing around. ‘Are there many predatory men at this party?’

‘None that stand a chance of getting close to you.’

‘Will you keep them away? I would have thought you had better things to do.’

‘And I thought you were leaving,’ he countered.

‘I am.’

He could hardly believe it when she walked away. This wasn’t a woman he could tease into his bed, but a woman to be reckoned with. Good. He needed a challenge. There was only one woman who could hold his interest tonight. He could hardly believe the transformation from butterfly at the bar, to working girl in the lemon groves. It was a good mix. That stubborn chin clinched it for him. He was done with insipid. She had a great walk too. He feasted his eyes as she walked away from him with her head held high and her shapely butt swaying provocatively beneath the simple clothes. She hadn’t a clue who he was. He doubted it would have made any difference. Status meant nothing to Callie, as proved by her easy transition from luxury living in the five-star hotel, to some of the hardest physical work in the area.

The sun had been kind to her today. Flushed from physical activity, she looked good enough to eat, something he’d put on hold until later in the evening, he reflected dryly. He watched as she met up with her friends. She was more relaxed than she’d been at the hotel. Laughing easily, she mimed words when the different languages spoken became a problem. Nothing seemed to faze her. Apart from him.

She was comfortable around everyone, as he was, and far more beautiful than he remembered. Young and natural—even the smear of dirt on her neck only made him think about licking it off. It was time he stopped thinking about Callie naked in his arms, or he’d be walking around the party uncomfortably aroused.

And, before he committed himself to taking her to bed, there were questions to be answered. Why was she picking fruit for a few euros a day when she was staying at a five-star hotel? Was it just for the experience? Who was funding her? Why was she in Italy? Was this a holiday or an escape? If she was escaping, from what? He had no intention of allowing Max to lure him into a honey trap that could discredit Luca, and expose the principality of Fabrizio to corruption beneath his half-brother’s rule. It was time to find out more.

As he approached Callie her friends melted away. ‘Where are they going?’ she asked with surprise.

They were diplomatically giving him space. Callie couldn’t help but be oblivious to the dynamics that existed between a prince and his people. However much he would have liked it to be different, obstacles between him and Utopia were not in his gift to remove.

‘Anyone would think you’d got the plague,’ she said, bringing a comic slant to bear on the situation.

‘Let’s hope it’s not that serious,’ he said, loving the way she could pop the pomposity bubble before it even had chance to form. She had raw, physical appeal, he mused as she stared up at him. It was all too easy to imagine her limbs wrapped around him as she sobbed with pleasure in his arms. ‘Dance?’ he suggested, curbing baser needs.

‘Not if I can help it,’ she exclaimed.

The response was pure Callie. ‘Why not?’ he demanded, play-acting wounded.

‘Because I have two left feet and the sense of rhythm of a hamster on a wheel.’

He shrugged. ‘Should be interesting. I’m a fast mover myself.’

She raised a disapproving brow, but her eyes betrayed her interest.

‘Perhaps I can slow you down?’ he suggested. ‘Show you an alternative to racing to the finish?’

Her cheeks flushed red. She’d got the sexual message in his words loud and clear, but she hit him with a blunt response. ‘You must be wearing steel-capped boots to feel so confident. And I’m going to sit this one out.’

He was nowhere near finished and caught hold of her arm. Momentum thrust her against him. She felt sensational, strong, lithe, and yet softly plump in all the right places. She was so tiny compared to him, but they fitted together perfectly.

‘You’re taking a lot for granted.’ She frowned, but made no attempt to move away.

‘I don’t see you rushing off,’ he countered softly.

‘Caveman.’

‘Nut freak.’

‘Nut freak?’ She stared into his eyes. Her lips were just a tempting distance away.

‘You’re quaint,’ he said, meeting her jade-green eyes head-on.

‘Quaint?’ she queried.

‘Old-fashioned.’

She appeared to consider this, and then said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Someone has to take responsibility for keeping standards high.’

Yes. That was him. He stared at a mouth he could have feasted on until she fell asleep with exhaustion. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured.

‘About what?’ she asked, her brow crinkling in enquiry.

He didn’t care. He just loved to watch her lips move as she goaded him. The thought of teasing those lips apart with his tongue to claim all the dark recesses of her mouth, along with everything else, fired him up until the hunger to take her was all-consuming. ‘That dance we talked about?’

‘You talked about.’ But she didn’t resist when he steered her towards a space that miraculously, as far as Callie was concerned, had opened for them on the packed dance floor.

When Luca pressed her close she gasped at the intensity of feeling. She was conscious that people were staring at them and whispering, which she guessed was only to be expected when she was dancing with the hottest man at the party. Why he’d chosen her to dance with, she had no idea. She hadn’t exactly made it easy for him. When he nuzzled her hair aside and kissed her neck, she didn’t care what his reasons were. She didn’t care about anything. The world and everyone in it simply dropped away.

CHAPTER FOUR

RISK VERSUS PLEASURE, Callie thought as she flicked a glance into Luca’s eyes. Even the briefest look sent heat surging through her. She could trust herself for one dance, she decided, which might have had something to do with the fact that when Luca took hold of her hand a thrill raced through her. When his other hand slipped into the hollow in the small of her back, she could think of nothing but closer contact. Fighting the urge, she kept a sensible distance between them. Other couples had made space for them, so there was no need to cling to him like a limpet.

Luca was really popular, she realised as they started to move to the music. They were attracting lots of interested glances and smiles. In fact, she would call it more of a buzz, so maybe the Prince was close by. She glanced around and realised that she wouldn’t know the Prince if she tripped over him. Everyone was probably wondering how she got so lucky, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. There was no chance to dwell on it. It was far more important to keep her wits about her. Dancing with Luca was a high-risk sport, she concluded as the sinuous melody bound them closer together. There was only thing more intimate they could do and be this close, and that was to make love—

She could put that out of her head right now! She was going to have one dance, and then she was going home. To pull away from Luca before the music ended would be rude. To fall into the trap of relaxing in his arms was stupid. Control would be her watchword. At least for now. Another, far more reckless side of Callie wanted to know why she couldn’t see this adventure out. She wasn’t Callie who scrubbed floors for a living now, but Callie from the lemon groves, who had a whole world of adventure tucked up inside her.

She made herself relax. Luca was right about dancing with him being easy. For some reason her feet seemed to know what to do. Her body moved instinctively with his. They could have been alone on the dance floor. She looked up to see him smiling a lazy, confident smile. He was good. He was very good. Luca might look rugged and tough, but when it came to seduction, he was smooth. So long as she was aware of it, she’d be okay, Callie reassured herself as they danced on.

But he must feel her trembling with arousal. Her body was on fire for him. Her heart was banging in her chest. She’d never played such dangerous games before. Luca was so brazenly virile she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to lace her fingers through his hair, and explore his body. She wanted to feel his sharp black stubble rasp her skin, and his firm, curving mouth tease hers into submission. While his big strong hands position me for pleasure...

No! She had to leave now.

But she didn’t.

And then an annoying drone buzzed overhead. ‘It’s only just checking who’s around,’ Luca reassured her when she looked up.

‘Like we’re so important,’ she said dryly. ‘I guess the Prince must be around.’

‘It’s a natural precaution when there’s a crowd,’ Luca explained.

Hmm. She loved to watch his mouth tilt at the corners when he smiled. ‘You’ve worked here before, so you’re used to it,’ she pointed out, ‘but this is all new to me.’ And how! And how fabulous, Callie thought as the music started up again, and one dance segued smoothly into two.

‘Tell me about home for you,’ Luca prompted.

‘I’m from a small town in the north of England.’

‘What’s it like?’

His hands were looped lightly around her waist as he pulled his head back to stare at her. A sensible question was welcome. A return to reality was exactly what she needed when their bodies were an electric hair’s breadth apart. But how to explain to a man who lived in one of the most beautiful countries in the world that her life back home was not like this? She settled for the truth. ‘I’m very lucky. I have the best of neighbours, a good job, and wonderful friends.’

‘So you live alone?’ he pressed as they danced on.

It was hard to concentrate on anything while she was this close to Luca, but she shook her mind back to the facts. ‘I lived with my father until recently. He died a short time before I came to Italy.’

‘I’m very sorry.’

‘He was killed in a drunken brawl,’ she explained. Luca had sounded genuinely concerned, and she didn’t want to mislead him, but her eyes brimmed as she said this. It had been such a tragic waste of life. ‘The world keeps turning,’ she said, to deflect Luca’s interest from the confusion on her face. Guilt had always played such a large part in her thinking where her father was concerned. She had never had any influence over him, but had always wished she could have changed things for the better for him.

‘And now you’re spreading your wings,’ Luca guessed, bringing her back on track.

‘I’m trying different things,’ she confirmed, brightening as she thought about the short time she’d been in Italy. ‘I love it here. I love the warmth of the people, and the sunshine, the glamour of a party beneath the stars—who wouldn’t love being here on the Prince’s estate? I feel free for the first time in a long time,’ she admitted carelessly. ‘Sorry. My mouth runs away with me sometimes.’

‘No. Go on,’ Luca encouraged. ‘I’m interested. I want to hear more.’

She was careful not to add the word adventure to her gush of information. He would definitely get the wrong idea. She told him a little more, and then his arms closed around her. His embrace was worryingly addictive and people were packed around them on the dance floor, making dancing close inevitable. Luca was easy to talk to and soon she was telling him things that perhaps she shouldn’t, like the camaraderie down the pub where she worked that could so easily erupt into violence when people had had too much to drink.

‘Dio, Callie, how could your father let you work there?’

She frowned. ‘No one gave me permission, and it was a well-paid job. Good, honest work,’ she emphasised, and then she laughed. ‘They had to pay their staff well, in order to keep them in such a rough area.’

‘It sounds horrendous,’ Luca remarked, not seeing anything amusing in what she’d said.

‘We needed the money,’ she said honestly, ‘and there aren’t too many options where I come from.’

Luca was a passionate Italian male, Callie reminded herself, and they could be very protective. He might look hard as rock, but he was no brute. And she was no saint, Callie thought as his hard thigh eased between hers. She tried using force of will to pretend nothing was happening, but that was the biggest fail yet. He was so big and she was so small that relaxing against him soon became snuggling into him, which felt ridiculously good, almost as if it was supposed to be. Music quickly restored her moral compass when the beat speeded up. She thought he’d let her go, lead her off the dance floor, but instead he caught her closer still.

‘You’re a good dancer.’

‘Only because you lift me off my feet.’ She laughed, then reviewed what was happening to her body while they were brushing, rubbing, nudging. It was both sensational and addictive. She wanted more. She wanted to toss her moral compass away.

As if sensing the way her thoughts were turning, Luca whispered in her ear, ‘I’m sure you’ve had enough dancing for now.’

She pulled back her head to stare into his eyes, which was dangerous, because now she discovered she was addicted to danger too. The camera drone chose that moment to intrude. ‘If the person behind those controls wants to take a better look at us, why don’t they just come down here and say so?’

‘I doubt we’re the sole object of the controller’s attention.’

‘You could have fooled me.’ She glared at the drone. ‘Do you think it’s so interested because the Prince is here?’

‘Possibly,’ Luca agreed.

‘I haven’t seen him yet. Have you? I mean, you’ve worked on the estate before, so you must know him.’

‘I’m offended,’ Luca said, half grinning, which suggested he wasn’t offended at all. ‘All you want to talk about is the Prince.’

‘It’s something to tell them about back home.’

‘What about me?’ he growled.

‘Don’t look for compliments. You won’t get them from me.’

He laughed and swept her off her feet.

‘Put me down this instant,’ she exclaimed.

‘Not a chance,’ he said. Amusement coloured his voice. ‘Don’t you want to know where your adventures could take you?’

‘I’ve got a pretty good idea, which is why I hope your tongue is firmly planted in your cheek. Just for the record, I’ll be sleeping on my own tonight,’ she added as Luca strode on across the courtyard with her safely locked in his arms.

‘Brava,’ he said, showing no sign of slowing down.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, she noticed. She should put up some sort of token struggle, but it was a magical night, a magical moment, and not too many of them came along.

Her senses rioted when Luca dipped his head to brush a kiss against her neck. She would see this adventure through, so long as it only took her from one side of the courtyard to the other. ‘I have to go,’ she insisted, when he lowered her to her feet to acknowledge some boisterous partygoers.

‘No. You have to stay,’ he argued when he was done, and so close to her ear that it tingled.

‘Are you determined to lead me astray?’

‘Would I?’ Sweeping her up before she had chance to protest, he strode on towards the palace gardens.

She was dangerously aroused, but for one night, she was going to be Callie from the lemon groves, without fear or guilt, or any of the dutiful thoughts that had curbed her in the past.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked as Luca opened a gate leading to lemon groves.

‘Wait and see.’

He didn’t stop until they reached the riverbank where he set her down. She had free will. She could do what she liked. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. Conscious he was watching her, she smiled, but Luca wasn’t fooled. ‘What’s worrying you?’ he said.

‘I’m not worried.’ Apart from the longing to have more nights like this, which she knew in her heart of hearts would not be possible. Moonlight lit the scene. Sparkling water rushed by. The bed of grass beneath her feet was soft and deep, and the midnight-blue sky overhead was littered with stars. It was the perfect setting on the perfect night, and Luca was the perfect man. Reaching out, she linked their hands.

Luca soothed and seduced her with kisses, with touches, and with the expression in his eyes. She believed they were connecting on a deeper level. He made her want to know more about him, and for this to be the start of something, rather than the grand finale. His hands worked magic on her body. His strength seduced her, his scent seduced her...everything about Luca seduced her. He was a man of the earth, a man of the people, who worked with his body, his mind, and good humour, as well as unstinting loyalty towards his Prince, which he’d proved when he had refused to point him out to her.

This adventure might have its ups and downs, but Luca had featured large in every part of it. He made her spirit soar, and her body cry out for his touch.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. There was no chance she was going anywhere any time soon. She was a woman with needs and desires, who saw no reason for self-denial. She hadn’t prepared for this, but had taken the usual precautions, more in hope than expectation of a love life some time in the far distant future. She hadn’t planned anything, because placing trust in a man was a huge deal for Callie, but Luca was different. He made her feel safe. He made her believe she could trust him.

His mouth was warm and as persuasive as sin, and, though she was tentative at first, she soon matched his fire. He was more controlled. She was not. She was new to this, and had had no idea how the fire could take hold and consume her. Luca kept his touch tantalisingly light, far too light for her frustrated body. The urge to know every part of him intimately was clawing at her senses. ‘I want you,’ she said as she stared up into his eyes.

He knew she was suffering. Of course he knew. He was responsible for it. She was hardly playing hard to get, and Luca was available for pleasure. Tracing his magnificent torso over his insubstantial top tipped the balance from caution to action. ‘Take it off,’ she instructed, ‘and then the rest of your clothes.’

His eyes fired with interest and amusement. ‘You first,’ he countered. ‘Or at least, match me.’

And so the game began. It was a game with only one conclusion. Once started, it couldn’t be stopped. Without breaking eye contact, she began unbuttoning her blouse. She did so slowly, and felt heat rise between them. It was her turn to make him wait. Pushing the soft fabric from her shoulders, she let it drop.

He frowned. ‘You’re wearing a bra.’

‘I’d say you’re overdressed too,’ she murmured.

He smiled.

‘You should have drawn up your rules before this started,’ she teased, ‘because now you have to take off your flip-flops too.’

Maintaining eye contact as he kicked them off, she whispered, ‘And now your shorts.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Absolutely sure.’ She would keep her eyeline level with his.

‘Take off your trainers,’ he suggested.

‘If that’s a ruse to give me chance to have second thoughts, save it. I won’t change my mind.’

‘I’ll take my chances.’ Luca’s stare was long and steady. ‘By the time I’ve finished, you won’t have a stitch of clothing on,’ he promised.

She shrugged, pretending indifference, but her heart was banging in her chest. ‘If you’d rather not?’

‘Oh, I’d rather,’ he said with a look that made her body flame with lust.

She toed off her trainers, wishing she’d dressed for the Arctic and had more clothes to remove. Luca was in serious danger of winning this game. How would such an experienced man judge her when he saw her naked? But it was exciting and fun, and every bit the adventure she’d dreamed about...the adventure she wouldn’t be telling the Browns about.

She should have known he’d go commando. He’d lowered his zipper and allowed his shorts to slide down his lean frame. Currently, they were hanging on his thighs. Reaching down, he pushed them the rest of the way and, stepping out of them, he stood in front of her, unconcerned. ‘You still have some way to go,’ he commented.

She would not look down. ‘My rules state—’ She gasped as Luca yanked her close.

‘Your rules count for nothing,’ he assured her in a seductive growl as he nuzzled his stubble-roughened face against her neck.

‘Oh—’ Breath shot from her lungs. She couldn’t help but rub her body against his in the hunt for more contact between them, but Luca held her firmly away.

‘Not so fast,’ he said, all control, while she was a gasping mass of arousal. ‘I can see I have some training to do.’

‘Please,’ she said, making his eyes flare with amusement.

‘Nice bra,’ he commented as he deftly removed it.

Now that was definitely going to give him the wrong idea. She’d chosen something frivolous for Italy. It had seemed such fun at the time. And safe. When she had been shopping in a brightly lit department store with not a single good-looking man around, the flimsy bra and thong had seemed harmless. The brand was quite exclusive, meant for show rather than practicality. Designer lingerie in bright pink silk chiffon bordered with palest aquamarine lace was hardly Callie’s usual choice. She was more of a sensible white cotton type. She could only imagine what Luca was thinking.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured, reassuring and disarming her all in one breath.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘I guess there’s only one way to convince you,’ he said, laughing softly.

He drew her closer, inch by inch, and then he kissed her. And this was not a teasing brush of his lips, but something more that drew emotion out of her, until she was happy and sad, excited and confused, all at once. She was happy to be here with him, and sad because she knew it couldn’t last. He excited her. Her body was going crazy for more—which he knew. And she was apprehensive too, in case she got this terribly wrong. There were so many ways she could get this wrong.

‘Stop,’ Luca murmured against her mouth. ‘Stop thinking and just allow yourself to feel for once. Go with your instincts, Callie.’

Her instincts were telling her to rub herself shamelessly against him, to part her legs and find relief as quickly as she could for the throbbing ache of frustration that he’d put there. And she had mightily encouraged, Callie conceded. She wanted this badly. Even more than that, she wanted the connection between them to last, but she had to face facts: Luca was an itinerant worker, as was she, and so they’d both move on.

He kissed away her doubts as he lowered her slowly to the ground. Stretching out his length against hers on the cool swathe of grass, he made sure that the world faded away, leaving just the two of them to kiss and explore each other. It was as if time stood still. Water still bubbled nearby, and a light breeze still ruffled the leaves overhead, but they were in another world where her senses were totally absorbed in Luca’s warm, clean man scent, and the feel of his powerful body against hers. His chest was shaded with just the right amount of dark hair that rasped against her nipples as he moved. She was filled with desire for him, and only felt a moment of apprehension when he reached into the pocket of his discarded shorts and she heard a foil rip. She was glad he had the good sense to protect them both, because she had no intention of pulling back. She had no regrets. None.

When he dipped his head to suckle her mind exploded with sensation. Moving her head on the cushioned earth, she bucked her hips repeatedly, involuntarily, responding to the hungry demands of her body. In the grip of sexual hunger, she reached for his shoulders and held on tightly, as if she were drowning and Luca was her rock. She had stifle a gasp of excitement when he moved over her. The weight of him against her thighs was new to her, and a little frightening. She had to tell herself that this was what she wanted, and that nothing was going to stop her now, nothing.

‘I’m right here,’ he soothed as if he could sense her apprehension.

‘Don’t I know it?’ she joked half-heartedly.

‘Seriously. Stop worrying. I would never hurt you.’

She stared into his eyes and saw the truth behind his statement. It was as if that had opened the floodgates to hunger, to curiosity, which left her fierce with passion, as well as uncertain as to what Luca was used to. Goodness knew, her experience was limited, to say the least. She was on a journey of discovery, Callie consoled herself, and this was an adventure that would carve a memory so deep she would never forget this moment, or this man.

Luca whispered against her mouth, ‘Trust me, Callie,’ and then his hands worked their magic and she was lost.

‘Oh...that’s...’

‘Good?’ he suggested in a low, amused murmur.

Her answer was a series of soft, rhythmical sighs. ‘Better than good,’ she managed to gasp.

‘More?’ he suggested.

The hands cupping her buttocks were so much bigger than hers, and his skilful fingers could work all sorts of wickedness.

‘Would you like me to touch you here?’

His tone was low and compelling. ‘So much,’ she admitted, sucking in a shaking breath.

One of Luca’s slightly roughened finger pads was all it took to send her mindless with excitement. He knew exactly what to do. He started stroking steadily, rhythmically, applying the right amount of pressure at just the right speed.

‘Good?’

Was she supposed to answer? She daren’t speak. She was frightened of losing control.

‘Would you like me to tip you over the edge?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Yes, you are.’

Staring into Luca’s laughing eyes, she knew he was right.

He kissed her as he explored her, a shallow invasion at first with a single finger, and then deeper, with one, two, and finally three fingers. ‘You’re so ready,’ he commented with approval.

She rocked her body in time to the steady thrust of Luca’s hand. It wasn’t as good, or as immediate as when he attended to her achingly sensitive little nub. It was a different feeling, and one just as compelling in its way. It made her want him to lodge deep inside her. The urge to be one with him was overwhelming.

Nudging her thighs apart with his, he continued to touch her in the way that took her mind off everything else. The delicious sensation of having him enclose her buttocks in his big, warm hands while he touched her lightly at the apex of her thighs was startlingly good. He found new ways to tease her, moving his body up and down until she was so aroused he could slide in easily, but then he pulled out again, provoking her more than ever. ‘Don’t stop!’ she exclaimed with frustration.

He ignored this plea and continued to tease her. Wild for him, she begged for more in words she’d never used before.

‘Like this?’ Luca suggested in a low growl.

She gasped with shock when he sank deep. For a moment she didn’t know if she liked it or not. He was very slow and very careful, but that only gave her chance to realise how much he stretched her. Every nerve ending she possessed leapt instantly to attention. The sensation was sudden and complete. She couldn’t think, she could only feel. ‘Yes,’ she sighed, moving with him.

Luca maintained a dependable rhythm, taking her to the edge and over, and he still moved intuitively, steadily, to make sure that her ride of pleasure continued for the longest possible time. She might have screamed. She might have called his name. She only knew that by the time she quietened her throat was sore, and with a gasp she collapsed back against the grass.

‘And we’re only just getting started,’ Luca promised with amusement.

Still lodged deep, he began to move again, persuasively and gently to take account of her slowly recovering body. He kept up this sensitive buffeting until the fire gripped her again and she wound her legs tightly around his waist as he thrust deep. She didn’t wait to be tipped over the edge this time, but worked her hips with his, falling fast and hard, while Luca held her firmly in place so she received the full benefit of each deep, firm stroke.

‘Greedy,’ he approved as she gasped for breath.

‘You make me greedy.’ Luca was still hard. She was still hungry. She reached for him and he took her again.

Callie was unique in his experience. It was as if they’d been lovers for years, but could enjoy the first, furious appetite that came with discovery of someone special. Not only could she match him, she fired him like no other. He was driven by the primitive urge to imprint himself on her body, her mind, and her memory. Pinning her down beneath him with her arms above her head, he thrust firmly to the hilt. She growled, and bucked towards him, as hungry as she had ever been. She was wild and abandoned, as he’d imagined Callie would be once he discovered what lay beneath her carefully cultivated shell. When they were still again, she turned towards him, as slowly as if her bones had turned to lead. Smiling, she managed groggily, ‘You’re amazing.’

‘And so are you,’ he replied softly.

CHAPTER FIVE

THEY BATHED IN the stream, seemingly unaware of the chill of the water, and dried off on the bank next to each other, kissing and staring into each other’s eyes. Luca seemed surprised when she insisted she would go home on one of the staff buses, but she wasn’t ready to spend the night with him. She needed to clear her head and come to terms with the fact that this might have been a life-changing experience, but it had no future.

Let this be, she thought as Luca smiled against her mouth before kissing her. Let it remain shiny and special. Allow nothing to taint it. She had those same thoughts when she boarded the bus, but by the time she walked into the hotel lobby her mood had changed, mainly because the concierge was waiting for her, and he looked worried to death.

‘Thank goodness, Signorina Smith. This came for you.’

She looked at the envelope he was holding out. It was obviously urgent. She ripped it open and started reading. There was some confusion about her room at the bed and breakfast. She had intended to move hotels tomorrow, but now it seemed her room at the B & B was no longer available. Crumpling the note in her hand, she frowned as she wondered what to do next. She couldn’t afford to stay on here.

‘Signorina Smith?’

The concierge was hovering anxiously. ‘Yes?’

‘Forgive my intrusion, but I can see how concerned you are. Please don’t be worried. The manager at the establishment you had hoped to move to left that note for you. He has informed us of a problem, and so it is arranged that you continue to stay here.’

Callie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m afraid I can’t afford to stay here,’ she admitted frankly. The concierge looked as embarrassed as she felt and this wasn’t his fault. ‘I’d love to stay on,’ she added warmly. ‘Everyone’s been so kind to me, but I need to find somewhere cheaper. Maybe you can help?’

‘Please, signorina,’ the concierge implored, shifting uncomfortably from polished shoe to polished shoe. ‘There will be no charge. You have been let down. This is a matter of local pride. The management of this hotel and the staff who care for you will be insulted if you offer payment.’

‘And I’ll be insulted if I don’t,’ Callie said bluntly. ‘I really can’t stay on if I don’t pay my way.’

‘The cost of your room has been covered.’

She swung around in surprise. ‘Luca! Are you following me?’

‘Yes,’ he admitted.

‘What do you know about this?’ she demanded. Luca, tousled and magnificent, couldn’t have looked more incongruous in the sleek, polished surroundings of the five-star hotel. She had to curb a smile as she glanced down at her clothes, and then at his. They both looked exactly what they were, labourers from the fields, which was another reason for decamping to another, much plainer establishment. Not that her body could have cared less what Luca was wearing. As far as her body was concerned, Luca looked better naked, anyway.

A million and one feelings flooded through her as they stared at each other. ‘Are you responsible for this?’ she asked, holding out the letter. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the concierge, who’d returned to his booth, looking more anxious than ever. Something was definitely going on. Luca knew Marco. Had they pulled strings between them so that she would have to stay with Luca? She refused to be manipulated, especially by Luca.

‘I couldn’t help overhearing that you were having difficulties,’ he began.

She bit her tongue and decided to wait to see what he said next. When he shrugged and smiled, threatening to weaken her resolve, she said, ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about my mysterious benefactor, or the fact that the hotel is refusing to charge me?’

He raised a brow. ‘Don’t you like it here?’

‘That’s not the point,’ she insisted. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Luca was speaking as calmly as if he were a tour operator dealing with a quibbling client, rather than a controlling alpha male who seemed to think that everything and everyone should run to his prescription. He might have quite literally swept her off her feet at the party, but post-party common sense had had time to set in.

‘My only concern is that you have somewhere comfortable to stay,’ he insisted.

She bristled. ‘Well, thank you, but I’m quite capable of making my own arrangements.’

‘They had a burst pipe at the small establishment where you booked a room,’ Luca explained while the concierge nodded vehemently. ‘Marco alerted me to this, and the concierge was only trying to help.’

‘How did Marco know I was planning to move to the B & B?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘I’m sorry, Callie, but you can’t live in a small town like this and not know what’s going on.’

‘So Marco told you?’ How could she have been so dim?

‘Stay on at the hotel,’ Luca offered, as if he were the owner of the sumptuous building. ‘You’ll be closer to the lemon groves here.’ He shot her a questioning look. ‘That’s if you intend to continue working on the Prince’s estate.’

‘Of course I do,’ Callie confirmed. She loved it on the Prince’s estate, and was nowhere near ready to leave yet.

‘So, come back with me.’

Luca was waiting at the lobby door, as if it were all a done deal. Did he mean go back to the party with him? Or did Luca have something different in mind? She had paid for the hotel until tomorrow, and packing could wait until the morning. Meanwhile...adventure beckoned!

More adventure? Why not? Luca was everything virile and masculine, drawing her deeper into the adventure she’d always dreamed about. ‘Thank you for your concern,’ she said, knowing she needed time to think more than ever now. ‘And, thank you,’ she added to the concierge as she walked away.

* * *

Callie avoided him the next day. His pride was piqued. However, everyone broke for lunch in the afternoon and congregated at the cookhouse. She was there, and they nodded to each other as they stood in line.

‘Luca.’

Her greeting was cool. She hadn’t appreciated his interference at the hotel, he gathered. He was hot from the fields, and hot for Callie, who had spent the morning in an air-conditioned facility the size of an aircraft hangar. Small, neat and clean, she slammed into his senses in her prim little buttoned-up blouse. Her denim shorts were short and they displayed her legs to perfection, as well as a suggestion of the curve of the bottom he’d caressed last night. That was all he needed before an afternoon’s work.

‘Excuse me, please,’ she said politely, waiting with her loaded tray to move past him.

The urge to ruffle those smooth feathers and make her wild with passion again was more than a passing thought. Weighing up the bandana he wore tied around his head to keep his crazy hair under control, she moved on to scrutinise the ancient top skimming his waist, though was careful not to look any lower. He took charge of her tray. Her gaze settled on his hands, and then his wrists, which were banded with leather studded with semi-precious stones, collected for him by the children of Fabrizio so he wouldn’t forget them while he was away. ‘I can manage, thank you,’ she said, trying to take the tray off him.

‘I’m sure you can,’ he agreed, ‘but sometimes it’s good to let people help you.’

Her brow pleated in thought as if she’d heard this somewhere before.

‘Are you staying on at the hotel, or have you found somewhere else to stay?’ he enquired lightly as he carried her tray to the table where Anita was waiting for Callie to join her.

‘Is that why you’re here? To question me?’ Callie probed with a penetrating look.

For a moment he couldn’t decide whether to shrug off her question or throw her over his shoulder like the caveman she thought him. He did know one thing. The tension between them couldn’t be sustained.

‘See you later,’ he said, turning to go.

‘Not if I see you first,’ she called teasingly after him.

A little frustration would do them both good, he decided. Ignoring the buzz of interest that accompanied him to the door, he saluted the chefs and left the cookhouse.

* * *

Infuriating man! How was it possible to feel so aroused, and yet control the impulse to jump on Luca and ravish him in front of everyone? Which was probably exactly how he expected her to feel. The tension in the cookhouse had been high, and made worse because people were obviously trying hard not to stare at them. She had tried to start a conversation with Anita, but couldn’t concentrate and kept losing her train of thought.

‘If you take my advice, you’ll get it over with,’ Anita advised, glancing at Callie with concern.

‘Get what over with?’ Callie demanded, frowning.

‘Sex. You need to sate yourself.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Oh, come off it, Callie. You’ll be no good to anyone, least of all yourself, until you do.’

‘Anita, I’m shocked!’

‘No, you’re not, you’re frustrated,’ Anita argued. ‘No one would think any the worse of you if you glut yourself on that one.’ She glanced in the direction Luca had gone.

‘This isn’t an adult playground. It’s a place of work.’

‘Listen to yourself,’ Anita protested with a forkful of crisp, golden fries poised in front of her mouth. ‘Take precautions and don’t involve your heart. You’re here for adventure, aren’t you?’

It might be too late to do as Anita said, Callie reflected as she left the cookhouse ahead of her friend. Her heart was already involved. She couldn’t last a minute without wondering if she’d see Luca again soon.

Turning onto the dusty track leading through the lemon groves, she headed for the storage facility where she’d been working that morning, only to see Luca coming towards her.

‘Shall I show you a short cut?’ he offered.

A short cut to what? she wondered as he grinned and took hold of her hand.

* * *

It was no good. He couldn’t get through the afternoon without it, without her, without Callie, without being up against a tree kissing her as if they were the last couple on earth and time was running out fast.

‘Luca—we can’t—’

‘Yes, we can,’ he insisted. Pressing his body weight against her, he slowly moved his body against hers until she was sucking in great gulping sobs of frustration.

‘I need you,’ she gasped out.

‘I know,’ he whispered.

He found her with his hand over the rough, thick denim shorts and stroked firmly. He could feel her heat and his imagination supplied the rest. He couldn’t wait. Neither could she. They tore at her shorts together. Removing them quickly, he tossed them away. There was no time for kissing, or touching, or preparing, there was only this. He freed himself. She scrambled up him. He dipped at the knees and took her deep. She came violently after a few firm thrusts. Tearing at him with hands turned to claws, she threw back her head and howled out her pleasure as each powerful spasm gripped her. When he felt her muscles relax, and her hands lost their grip, he gave it to her again, fast and hard.

‘Yes!’ she cried out as he claimed her again. ‘More,’ she begged, blasting a fiercely demanding stare into his eyes.

‘You can have all you want,’ he promised as he worked her steadily towards the next release. ‘But not right now,’ he murmured, still thrusting, ‘because we have to go back to work.’

‘You’re joking.’ Her eyes widened. ‘How can I go back to work after this?’

‘That discipline we talked about?’

‘You talked about.’

He ended the argument with a few fast thrusts, and she screamed out her pleasure as they both claimed their most powerful release yet.

‘You’re right,’ she accepted groggily a long while after she’d quietened. ‘They’ll be short a team member if I don’t go back, and I can’t let everyone down.’

He could have sorted this out for her with a few words in the appropriate ear, but that would be taking advantage of his position, and so he huffed an accepting laugh and lowered her down to the ground. They were both bound by duty. Groping for his phone, he clicked it on to see the time. What he saw was a line of missed calls. Springing up, he dislodged her. ‘Sorry, I have to take this,’ he explained as he walked away. Sorting himself out as the call connected, he tucked the phone between ear and his shoulder and asked a few pertinent questions. Having cut the line, he beckoned to Callie. ‘Sorry, but there’s somewhere I have to be.’

‘Your afternoon shift?’ she queried, frowning.

‘Something like that, but I’ll have to leave the estate.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked, feeling his tension.

‘Nothing.’ He sounded abrupt, but there was no time for explanations.

Callie was hurt. She refused to meet his eyes. His sharp response had shocked her. And no wonder, when one minute they were totally absorbed in each other, even if that was up against a tree, and the next he couldn’t wait to leave. It couldn’t be helped. He’d see her again, if and when he came back.

* * *

She didn’t have much experience of love affairs, but she knew enough to know Luca’s behaviour wasn’t acceptable. His intended departure was brutal and sudden, and only went to prove she didn’t know the man she was with. She didn’t know him at all. Shame and humiliation swept over her in hot, ugly waves as he paced impatiently while she struggled to put on her shorts as fast as she could. For Luca it was just sex, necessary like eating and breathing, and now it was done, he couldn’t wait to leave.

What a mug I am, Callie thought as she pulled up her zipper. Even her well-used body mocked her as she dressed. It was so tender and still so responsive, while her mind continued to whirl in agitated spirals as she flashed glances at a man who seemed to have forgotten she existed. She’d been swept up in a fantasy, but as far as Luca was concerned they were two healthy adults who’d wanted sex. Now that was done there was nothing left. She couldn’t even be angry with him. She’d been a more than willing partner. She was just puzzled as to how they could seem so close, and now this.

She glanced at him. He glanced back, but only to check on her progress. There’d be no more conversation or confiding, no more intimate jokes. Smoothing her hair as best she could, she looked at the time on her phone and grimaced. She was already late for the afternoon shift and would have to take a shower before returning to work. It must have been her heavy sigh that prompted Luca to say, ‘There are facilities next to the building where you’re working. You’ll find everything there—towels, shampoo—’

Did he do this on a regular basis? Callie wondered. ‘Thanks.’ Why wouldn’t he? Luca came here every year. She couldn’t be the first woman to fall for his blistering charm. Her face flamed red as she pictured him with someone else. She’d thought they were special, which only went to prove how little she knew about men. She could understand he was in a hurry, but couldn’t there be just the slightest pleasantry between them, to allow for an exit with dignity?

‘So that’s it?’ she said as she checked her top was properly tucked in.

‘Should there be more?’ he demanded.

His response was the slap in the face she badly needed. Something had to bring her to her senses. Reality had landed. Hooray. He was right. What more should there be?

Callie was angry, but they were hardly at the stage where he could confide state secrets. She controlled herself well, but the tension in her jaw and the spark in her eyes told their own story. It couldn’t be helped. News of Max’s attempted coup was for his ears only. He strode on ahead as soon as Callie was ready. His mind was already elsewhere. Stabbing numbers into his cell, he told his staff to prepare the helicopter. He had to get to Fabrizio fast. He would just have time to shower and change before it arrived to pick him up. Max and his cronies had been causing trouble again, and, though they had been swiftly suppressed, the people of Fabrizio needed the reassurance of seeing their Prince.

‘So, you’re not even going to wait for me?’ Callie called after him.

He turned around, shrugged impatiently then kept on walking. She was no longer his priority. However much he might want her to be, he couldn’t put his own selfish pleasures first.

* * *

‘What’s got under your skin?’ Anita asked when the two women bumped into each other outside the shower block. ‘A man? One man in particular?’

Anita sounded so hopeful that Callie couldn’t bear to disillusion her. ‘Tell you later,’ she promised as she hurried off for her afternoon shift.

‘Wave goodbye to the Prince before you go,’ Anita called after her.

Callie stopped and turned around. ‘Where is he?’

Shielding her eyes, Anita stared up at a large blue helicopter with a royal crest of Fabrizio on the side.

‘Apparently he’s been called back to Fabrizio to deal with an emergency,’ Anita explained as both women protected their eyes against the aircraft’s downdraft, which had raised dust clouds all around them. ‘Don’t worry. It won’t be an emergency when Luca gets there.’

‘Sorry?’ Callie froze.

‘Prince Luca’s will is stronger than any army his brother Max could raise, and his people adore him,’ Anita explained. ‘The people don’t trust Max as far as they could throw him. I read in the press today that Prince Luca intends to buy Max off. Max will do anything for money,’ Anita explained, ‘and that includes relinquishing his claim to the throne. Max needs Luca’s money to pay his gambling debts. He’d bleed the country dry, if he became ruler. The late Prince, their father, knew this. That’s why he made Prince Luca his heir—Callie? Are you all right?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Luca was the Prince?’ Callie stared at her friend in total disbelief, but how could she be angry with Anita when Callie was guilty of ignoring what had been, quite literally, under her nose?

‘I’m sorry,’ Anita said as she enveloped Callie in a big hug. ‘I thought you knew. I thought, like the rest of us, you were being discreet by not naming him, or talking about him. We all know that’s what Prince Luca prefers. If I’d guessed for a moment—’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Callie insisted. ‘I’m to blame. I only saw what I wanted to see.’ She stared up at the helicopter as it disappeared behind some cloud. Luca hadn’t told her anything, let alone that he was the Prince. What a fool she was. How could she have missed all the clues? They were as obvious to her now as the bright red arrow she hadn’t noticed when she’d first arrived at the Prince’s estate. Only worse, much worse, Callie concluded. She didn’t blame Luca. Was he supposed to act like Prince Charming in a fairy tale? He was a man, with all the cravings, faults and appetite that went along with that, and she hadn’t exactly fought him off.

‘Why are you laughing?’ Anita asked.

Callie was thinking that Luca didn’t have to excuse his actions. He simply called for his helicopter and flew off. But into a difficult situation, she reminded herself. Even if Luca and his brother had never been close, no one needed to remind Callie how much a barb from within the family could hurt.

‘I thought he was one of us,’ she admitted to Anita.

‘He is one of us,’ Anita confirmed hotly.

Callie smiled, knowing there was no point in arguing with Anita, one of Luca’s staunchest supporters, but she still couldn’t get her head around her own clumsy mistake. It was so much easier to think of Luca as a worker, rather than a prince, but how she could have been so wrapped up in her Italian adventure that she hadn’t guessed the truth before now defeated her.

‘Max’s uprising was over before it began,’ Anita explained as she linked arms with Callie. ‘You can’t fault Prince Luca for keeping his word to his father, the late Prince. Luca’s been coming here for years to work alongside the pickers, but nothing’s more important to him than the pledge he made to keep his country safe, and we all understand why he had to go back to Fabrizio.’

All except Callie, who was still floundering about in the dark wondering why Luca hadn’t told her his true identity. Perhaps there were too many people who only wanted to be close to him for the benefits they could gain, apparently like his brother, Max. She could forgive him if that were the case. Well, sort of. Luca expected her to trust him, but he clearly didn’t trust her.

And was she always truthful?

The only time she’d reached out since arriving in Italy was to text Rosie to reassure the Browns that everything was going well. She’d explained that she was going to extend her stay, but had kept her answers to Rosie’s excited questions bland in the extreme. She was staying on because she wanted to learn more about Italy, Callie had said, which explained why she had taken a part-time job. She just hadn’t expected to get her heart broken into pieces and trampled on in the process. ‘I’ll be leaving soon,’ she mused out loud.

‘Must you? Oh, no. Please don’t. Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to probe,’ Anita assured Callie with concern, ‘and I’ll understand completely if you don’t want to tell me why you’re leaving.’

Callie responded with a warm hug for her new friend. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong,’ she assured Anita. ‘If anyone’s at fault, it’s me. I could have asked Luca more questions, but chose not to. I didn’t want reality to intrude, I suppose. It’s better if I go home and get real. It’s too easy to believe the dream here.’

How true was that? She couldn’t believe she’d made such a fool of herself with Luca.

‘Can’t you stay a little longer?’ Anita begged. ‘We’re only just getting to know each other, and I’ll miss you.’

Tears sprang to Callie’s eyes at this confession, and the two women exchanged a quick, fierce hug. ‘I hope you’ll come and visit me?’ Callie insisted. ‘I don’t want to lose touch, either.’

‘No chance,’ Anita promised stoutly as they stood side by side on the dusty path that ran through the groves. ‘When I go home, it’s to a damp northern mill town not too far from your docks, so there’s no reason why we can’t meet up.’

‘Come for Christmas,’ Callie exclaimed impetuously. ‘Please. I’ll ask Ma Brown. The more, the merrier, she always says. Promise you will.’

‘Are you serious?’ Anita looked concerned, and then her face lit up when she realised that Callie meant every word. ‘I usually spend Christmas alone.’

‘Not this year,’ Callie vowed passionately with another warm hug. ‘I’ll speak to Ma and Pa Brown as soon as I get back, and I’ll send you the details.’

‘You’re a true friend, Callie,’ Anita said softly.

‘I won’t forget you,’ Callie promised.

Casting one last wistful look around the sun-drenched lemon groves, Callie firmed her jaw. She might be Callie from the docks when she returned home, but she would always be Callie from the lemon groves in her heart.

CHAPTER SIX

‘WHERE THE HELL is she? Someone must know.’

The staff stared at him blankly. He was back in the warehouse where the lemons were stored. As soon as he’d sorted the problems in Fabrizio, he’d returned to his estate expecting to find Callie still working there. He hadn’t realised how much he’d miss her until she wasn’t around. ‘Callie Smith?’ he exclaimed, exasperated by the continued silence. ‘Anyone?’

Apologetic shrugs greeted his questions. No one knew where she was. Or they weren’t telling, he amended, glancing at Anita, who was staring fixedly six inches above his head. He’d made it back just before the end of the season when the casual workers left. Most of the pickers had already gone home, but some had stayed on to make sure everything was stored properly and they were set fair for next year. Why would Callie stay when I’ve been so brusque?

Wheeling around, he strode to the exit. Fresh from resolving a potential uprising in Fabrizio, he could surely solve the mystery of one missing woman. Max had accepted a pay-off equivalent to the GDP of a small country, and Luca had paid this gladly with the proviso that Max stayed out of Luca’s life and never returned to Fabrizio. He had the funds to buy anything he wanted, even freedom from Max, but could he buy Callie? In the short time he’d known her, he’d learned that, not only was Callie irreplaceable, she was unpredictable too. Her newfound freedom after years of duty to her father had lifted her, and in the space of a couple of days Luca had succeeded in knocking her down. Throwing money at a problem like Max worked. Callie was just as likely to throw it back.

He entered the office on the estate and everyone stood to attention. In a dark, tailored suit, Luca was dressed both as a prince and a billionaire, and not one member of staff had missed that change. ‘Relax, please. I’m here to ask for your help.’

As always, his people couldn’t have been more accommodating. They gave him Callie’s home address from her file. Now there was just Callie to deal with, he reflected as he left the building. He doubted she’d be quite so helpful, and his smile faded. He’d never been unsure of an outcome before, but he couldn’t be sure of Callie.

He took the helicopter for the short flight to the airport, where his flight plan to the north of England was already filed. He’d fly the jet himself. The thought of being a passenger appalled him. He needed something to do. Callie occupied every corner of his mind. The unfinished business between them banged at his brain. There was no time to lose. He didn’t leave loose ends, never had.

* * *

Could it really be more than two months since she’d first met Luca? It was certainly time to take stock of her life. That didn’t take very long. She was living in one freezing, cold room over a dress shop where she worked six days a week to fund her studies at night school. She was determined to get ahead by building on the Italian language she’d already picked up on her trip to Italy. Her love affair with the country was in no way over, and it had turned out that she had a flair for languages. She had moved to another town, because she didn’t have a home to go back to as such. Her old home next door to the Browns had new tenants, and though the Browns had begged her to stay on with them, Callie had insisted that they’d done enough for her, and that it was time for her to go it alone. ‘I wish I could have brought you more exciting news from my adventures,’ she’d told them.

‘Exciting enough,’ Rosie had exclaimed, her eyes fever bright when Callie talked about the Prince.

Callie hadn’t told anyone about the time she’d spent locked in the Prince’s arms, and had deflected Rosie’s questions by telling her that staying in a five-star hotel had kept her away from the real Italy. ‘The posh hotel was lovely,’ she’d explained, ‘but it was bland.’

‘Unlike the Italian men?’ Rosie guessed, still digging for information.

‘And so I looked for a job amongst the people,’ Callie had driven on in an attempt to avoid Rosie’s question. She had never lied to her friend, and she never would.

‘You’re too hard on yourself, love,’ Pa Brown had insisted when Callie explained that without the young maid’s suggestion she would still have been sitting in the hotel, rather than experiencing the lemon groves she had grown to love. ‘You wanted to get out and do an honest day’s work. You asked for help to find some. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all need help sometimes.’

Pa Brown’s words resonated with Callie more than ever now. He was right. In her current situation, she would have to ask for help at some point.

Yes. From Callie Smith, Callie concluded. Like millions of women who’d found themselves in this situation, she’d get through, and get through well. Though there were times when she wished she’d agreed to see Luca when he first flew to England to set things straight between them.

‘Why won’t you see him?’ Rosie had asked with incredulity on the first occasion. ‘He’s an incredible man and he cares about you. He must do, to leave everything to fly here to find you. And he’s a prince, Cal,’ Rosie had added in an awestruck gasp, ‘as well as one of the richest men in the world.’

Callie remembered firming her lips and refusing to add to this in any way. She had simply given her head a firm shake. The money meant nothing to her and neither did Luca’s title. She couldn’t risk her heart being broken again, and the feelings she had for Luca were so strong they frightened her. But Rosie knew her too well. Realising Callie wouldn’t change her mind, Rosie had put an arm around Callie’s shoulders and hugged her tight. ‘I know you love him,’ Rosie insisted. ‘And one day you’ll know that too. Just don’t find out when it’s too late.’

It hadn’t ended there, of course. Luca wasn’t the type to meekly turn around and go home. He didn’t know how to take no for an answer. He’d called several times, sent flowers, gifts, notes, hampers of dainty cakes and delicacies from a famous London store. He’d even despatched an elderly statesman called Michel to plead his case. Callie had felt particularly bad about the old man, but Ma Brown had made up for her refusal, treating Michel to a real northern afternoon tea before politely telling him that his Prince had no chance of changing Callie’s mind at the moment. ‘You shouldn’t even have given him that much hope,’ Callie had insisted. ‘I don’t want to be any man’s mistress and Luca’s a prince. He’s hardly going to take things in the direction I...’

As her voice had tailed away, Pa Brown had piped up, ‘The direction you want is love, Callie. Love and respect is the direction you’re entitled to want, when you give your heart to someone special.’

As Ma Brown had sighed with her romantic heart all aflutter, Callie had known it was time to move on. Her relationship with Luca, such as it had been, had started to affect the Browns, so she’d told them what she planned to do, and had packed her bags. And here she was three months later in Blackpool, the jewel of the Fylde coast. It was blustery and cold this close to Christmas, but there was an honest resilience about the place that suited Callie’s mood. And there were the illuminations, she mused with a rueful grin as she glanced out of her top-floor window at the light-bedecked seafront. Known as the greatest free light show on earth, one million bulbs and six miles of lights brought tourists flocking, which meant there were plenty of part-time jobs.

The irony since she’d been here was that Luca was never out of the press. She couldn’t believe she’d spent so much time in blissful ignorance as to his identity when his face stared out of every magazine and newspaper. Even when she went to the hairdresser’s, she couldn’t escape him. She had read every column inch written about him, and knew now that Luca had won his position in Fabrizio thanks to his sheer grit and determination. That, and the love of an adoptive father who had always believed his ‘boy from the gutters of Rome’, as Luca was referred to in the red-tops, was an exceptional man in the making.

Callie had become an expert in press releases and could quote some of them by heart. Luca, who was already a titan in business, was now equally respected in diplomatic circles. A tireless supporter of good causes, he had just completed a world tour of the orphanages he sponsored.

The photos of him were riveting. Luca relaxing, looking hot as hell in snug-fitting jeans, or Luca riding a fierce black stallion, looking like the king of the world. He could be cool and strong on state occasions, when he was easily the most virile and commanding of all the men present. In a nutshell, the new ruler of Fabrizio currently dominated world news, which made him seem further away to Callie, and more unreachable than ever. Much was made in the press of his lonely bachelor status, but Luca clearly had no intention of changing that any time soon. Flowers arrived regularly at the Browns’, a clear indication that he hadn’t given up his search for a mistress yet.

The flowers were still arriving, Rosie had informed Callie only last night, together with the handwritten letters bearing the royal seal, which Rosie had insisted on squirrelling away for Callie. ‘You’ll look at them one day,’ she’d said, not realising that Callie steamed them open and had read every one.

She’d never fit into Luca’s glitzy life, Callie concluded, however much affection and humour he put into his letters. But there were deeper reasons. Her mother had died believing her father’s lies, and Callie had listened to them for most of her life. ‘Tomorrow will be better,’ Callie’s father would promise each day. But it was never better. He always gambled away the money, or drank it, and so Callie would do another shift at the pub. Did she want another man who lied to her, even if not telling her that he was a prince was a lie of omission by Luca to test how genuine she was? She would be the one lying if she couldn’t admit to herself that each time she saw a photograph of Luca, she longed for him with all her heart.

‘The trick is knowing when to say thank you, and get on with things,’ Pa Brown had told her in their last telephone conversation, when Callie had asked what she should do about the flowers. ‘You can send us your thank-you notes, and we’ll pass them on. Don’t you worry, our Callie, Ma Brown’s loving it. She’s like Lady Bountiful, spreading those flowers around the neighbourhood so they do some good. You can thank that Prince Luca properly when you see him in person. I certainly will.’

We won’t be seeing him, Callie had wanted to say, but she didn’t have the heart.

‘Stop beating yourself up, girl,’ Pa Brown had added before they ended their most recent call. ‘You went to work in the lemon groves, which was what you’d dreamed about. You turned that dream into reality, which is more than most of us do.’

She should have kept a grip on reality when it came to Luca, Callie thought with a sigh. But she hadn’t. She had allowed herself to be swept up in the fantasy of a holiday romance. And now there was something else she had to do, something far more important than fretting. Reaching into her tote, she pulled out the paper chemist’s bag. She couldn’t put the test off any longer. While her periods had always been irregular this was a big gap, even for her. Now, she had to know. It was a strange thing, becoming pregnant, Ma Brown had told Callie before the last baby Brown was born. There could be barely any signs for a doctor to detect, but a mother knew. For a couple of weeks now Callie had tried to believe that this was an old wives’ tale, but she couldn’t kid herself any longer. She might not be a mother, or have personal experience of becoming pregnant, but she did know when she wasn’t alone in her body and there was a new, fragile life to protect. She had considered that this feeling might possibly be nothing more than the product of an overactive imagination. There was only one way to find out.

She stared at the blue line unblinking. Not because if she stared long enough it might disappear, but because she was filled with the sort of euphoria that only came very rarely in life. It was a moment to savour before reality kicked in, and she was going to close her eyes and enjoy every moment of it. When she opened them again, her biggest fear was that the kit was faulty. Surely, there had to be a percentage that were?

Leaning forward, she turned on another bar of the ancient electric fire and pulled the cheap throw that usually covered the holes in the sofa around her shoulders as she tried to stop shivering. Part of that was excitement, she supposed, though her hands were frozen. She couldn’t believe it was December next week. Where had the time gone? It only seemed five minutes since she had been basking in sunshine in Italy. That was almost three months ago. Three months of life-shattering consequence, Callie reflected as she stared, and stared again at the blue line on her pregnancy test. One thing was certain. She’d have to see Luca now.

* * *

He knew Callie was pregnant since he’d tracked her down to England. He’d been tied up with his enthronement once the dispute with Max was settled. That stiff and formal ceremony was over now, with the celebratory garden party for thousands of citizens of Fabrizio still to come. He loved being amongst his people and looked forward to it, but it was time to concentrate on Callie. They were similar in so many ways, which warned him to tread carefully, or Callie would only back off more determinedly than ever. And hormones would be racing, so the mother of his child, the one woman he could never forget, would have more fire in her than a volcano. Once more into the breach, he thought as the royal jet, piloted by His Serene Highness, Luca Fabrizio, the most frustrated and most determined man on earth, soared high into the air.

* * *

Blackpool Illuminations Requires Tour Guides. Callie studied the headline. She was going to need more money soon. Her bank account was bouncing along the bottom, and when the baby arrived... Touching her stomach, she was filled with wonder at the thought; when the baby arrived there would be all sorts of expenses. A wave of regret swept over her, at the knowledge Luca should be part of this. The sooner she told him, the better, but he must understand she didn’t want anything from him.

But the baby might need things.

Might need the father she’d never really had, Callie mused, frowning. But what would that mean? Would Luca be a good father? Instinct said yes, but would he and his royal council control their every move? What about the lack of freedom that being royal would mean for a child? She wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach as, hot on the heels of excited disbelief and the marvel of a new life, came a very real fear of the unknown. What if she was a hopeless mother?

She couldn’t afford to be frightened of anything, Callie concluded with a child on the way. Grabbing her coat and scarf, she quickly put them on. Leaving the bedsit, she locked the door behind her. The baby came before everything. She had to make some money, even save a little, so she could move to somewhere bigger, hopefully somewhere with a garden. Long before that, she had to buy clothes and equipment for the baby.

Remembering not to rattle down the stairs at a rate of knots as she usually did, she walked sensibly, thinking about the baby. She was already feeling protective. She was confident of one thing. She would not be separated from her child. Luca would have to know they were expecting a baby but, Prince or not, billionaire or not, she would not allow him, or his council, to take over. She would raise her child to have values and warmth, and teach it to be kind. The Browns would help. Maybe she’d have to move back to the docks, but not yet. Burying her face in her scarf to protect it from the bitter wind, she prepared to brave the weather to find a job.

And Luca?

He was an Italian male. Of course he’d want to be part of this. But he would also want to found a dynasty, and for that he needed a princess, not Callie from the docks.

She exchanged a cheery hello with the kindly shop owner who had rented Callie the flat and paused to help with a string of tinsel. ‘Thank you, darling,’ the elderly shop owner exclaimed, giving Callie a warm hug. ‘I can’t believe how you’re glowing. You look wonderful. Don’t you get cold outside, now.’

‘I won’t,’ Callie called back over her shoulder as she stepped out into the street.

* * *

He saw the car coming from the end of the street. Driven at speed, it was being chased by a police vehicle, sirens blaring.

No!

He wasn’t sure if he shouted, or thought the warning, but he did know he moved. Sprinting like a cheetah, he hurtled down the road. Shoving pedestrians from the path of the car, his sightline fixed on his goal. Time remained frozen, or so it seemed to him, with countless variables of horror possible.

Most people hadn’t even realised there was a problem. Callie was one of them. She was still walking across the street, oblivious to the danger hurtling towards her. Launching himself at her, he slammed her to the ground. There was a thump, a screech of brakes, and for a moment the world went black, then the woman in his arms, the woman he had cushioned from the edge of the pavement with his body, battled to break free.

‘Are you okay?’ she exclaimed with fierce concern, lifting herself up to stare at him.

Winded, he was only capable of a grunt. She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Luca?’

He gulped in a lungful of fumes and dust, mixed with Callie’s warm fragrance, then, as his brain clicked back into gear, he had only one concern, and that was Callie. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No.’ She hesitated. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’

Colour drained from her face. He could imagine the thoughts bombarding her brain. She was pregnant. Was the baby okay? Could she reel back the clock and walk across the road a few seconds later or sooner? Did she have any pain? She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, making him think she was examining her body, searching for signs of trauma, particularly in her womb. She slowly relaxed, which he took to be a good sign. And then she remembered him. He saw the recognition and surprise in her eyes turn to suspicion and anger, and then back again, when she remembered where they were and how they had got there.

‘You saved me,’ she breathed.

‘Grazie Dio!’ he murmured.

Her gaze hardened again. He was back. The man she had thought she knew had turned out to be someone else entirely. She’d flirted with him, and had had sex with a man she had believed to be an itinerant field worker, who had turned out to be a billionaire prince, and an important figure on the world stage. He could imagine her affront when she’d found out. It wouldn’t have taken her long. Settling back into her normal life, she could hardly avoid seeing his face in the press after his enthronement. In shock, she would be trying to process every piece of information, amongst which had to be what the hell was he doing here?

He followed her gaze as she glanced around to see if anyone else was hurt. He saw the tyre marks on the pavement left by the car as it had mounted the kerb, and realised how kind fate had been. Pockets of survivors were checking each other out. Numbers were being exchanged and arms thrown around complete strangers. This was human nature at its best. From what he could see, everyone was shaken up, but thankfully unharmed. Quite a crowd had gathered. People were calling on their phones. The emergency services would arrive soon. The police were already on the scene. The youth behind the wheel of the speeding car had been captured. Patrol cars had his vehicle boxed in.

‘Luca,’ Callie gritted out, managing to fill that single word with all the bitterness and uncertainty prompted by his supposed deception. When she was calm, she might realise they’d both been escaping their normal lives during their time in the lemon groves. Both had seized the chance to escape and explore a different, looser version of themselves. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that Callie was safe. However, she, understandably, took a rather different view. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she said, staring at him. ‘What are you doing here?’

Ignoring her understandable surprise, he concentrated on essentials. ‘Take it easy. Slowly,’ he advised as she struggled to sit up. ‘You might feel dizzy for a while. You’ve had a shock.’

‘To put it mildly,’ she agreed. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked tensely.

‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘You came down with quite a bang.’

He wasn’t interested in discussing anything but Callie, and was only relieved that he’d reached her in time.

‘Sorry.’ She started to giggle. Hysteria, he guessed. ‘But we must stop meeting like this.’

He couldn’t agree more. They were lying in the road on a bed of grime and oil patches. Hoping that laughter signified her body’s resilience to the blow it had just received, he huffed wryly, and for a moment they weren’t at loggerheads, but just two people caught up in an unexpected incident on a cold and wintry street.

‘Oh, no!’ Callie was staring at the stolen vehicle, which was planted in what appeared to be a dress shop window. ‘My landlady,’ she exclaimed, starting to get up.

‘Let me help you.’

She pushed him away in panic. ‘I have to make sure she’s all right.’

‘You have to get checked out first,’ he argued.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

‘You’re in shock, Callie. You need to go to hospital for a check-up now.’

‘I’m fine,’ she insisted, starting to pull his jacket off.

He closed it around her. ‘You’re shivering. You’re in shock,’ he repeated, ‘and until the paramedics get here and check you out, I’m not taking any chances.’

‘So you freeze to death instead?’

‘I don’t think it will come to that,’ he soothed, ‘do you? I’m just glad I got here when I did. I couldn’t get here any sooner.’

‘I heard you’d been busy,’ she admitted.

A paramedic interrupted them. ‘You all right, love?’ he asked, proffering a foil blanket. ‘Let the gentleman have his jacket back, or he’ll catch his death of cold.’

‘I’ve been trying to give it back to him,’ Callie explained, ‘but he won’t take it.’

‘Well, if he’s happy for you to keep it.’ The paramedic shrugged as he arranged the foil blanket over the jacket for extra warmth. ‘Not too many gallant gentlemen left, love,’ he commented. ‘Better hang onto this one.’

Callie hummed and smiled, though Luca wondered if her smile was for the paramedic’s benefit. ‘Was anyone else hurt?’ she asked. ‘The lady in the dress shop?’

‘Had just gone to make herself a cup of tea,’ the paramedic reassured her. ‘She was working in the shop window, she told me, only minutes before the car struck.’

‘What a relief,’ Callie gasped. ‘I was with her. I live over the shop,’ she explained.

‘It’s thanks to the quick thinking of your knight in shining armour that a young mother and her baby were also shoved to safety and saved from injury. He’s a real hero. Aren’t you, sir?’

‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Luca had acted on instinct. There had been no planning involved. There’d been no time to think. He’d done what was necessary to avert disaster, in his view, and that was all.

‘Accept praise when it’s due, sir. You’re a genuine hero, sir,’ the paramedic assured him. ‘Now, excuse me, miss, but we’d better get you to hospital for a check-up. If the gentleman wants to come too—’

‘He doesn’t want to come,’ Callie said with a glance his way. ‘You obviously know where I live,’ she added, narrowing her eyes, ‘so we’ll speak later.’

Shepherding her to one of the two waiting ambulances, the paramedic steadied her as she climbed inside. ‘What are you doing?’ Callie demanded when he swung in behind her.

‘Collecting my jacket?’ Luca suggested dryly.

The paramedic gave him a broad wink, but had the good sense to appear busy with paperwork when the doors closed and the ambulance set off. Callie disapproved of him accompanying her to the hospital. Too bad. As she had been a member of his staff, he had a duty of care towards her, and with a baby on the horizon that duty had doubled.

‘You saved her, mate,’ the paramedic put in as he settled down.

This wasn’t how he’d pictured his reunion with Callie. He just wanted her to be safe.

‘Have you been spying on me?’ Callie asked, careful not to let their companion hear her conversation.

He shrugged. He wasn’t going to lie. It was a fine line between his security team’s protection service and overstepping the mark. ‘Your welfare and that of our child is my only concern.’

She blenched. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so pale. ‘Are you all right? Pain? You’re not—’

‘No. At least, I don’t think so.’ Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared at him. She reached for his hand. For the first time, she looked vulnerable. This was a very different woman from the Callie he’d met in Italy. This was a woman afraid for her unborn child, and discovering she cared for that child far more than she cared for herself. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘As if I’m special and you’re glad you’re here.’

‘You are special. You’re about to become a mother, the mother of my child. And if I am looking at you, it’s only because you’re covered in grit and filth and need a good wash.’

‘Charming, mate,’ the paramedic piped up, proving that he wasn’t lost in his work after all. ‘Which charm school did you attend?’

‘I didn’t go to school until I was ten,’ Luca admitted wryly. ‘And then it was the school of hard knocks.’

‘Hey, wait a minute,’ the paramedic exclaimed, turning to stare at Luca intently. ‘Aren’t you that billionaire bloke who started life in the gutters of Rome and became a prince?’ And when Luca didn’t reply, he added, ‘What are you doing in Blackpool?’

He winked at Callie. ‘I’ve been checking out a new set of gutters, mate.’

‘Don’t you worry,’ the paramedic told Callie. ‘I won’t tell a soul. And you’re going to be okay, love, we’ll make sure of that.’

The atmosphere lightened a little, and Callie didn’t resist when Luca put his arm around her and drew her close.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LUCA WAS BACK. Callie’s mind was in turmoil, and as for her heart... What a time for him to choose to come back! The best time, she conceded gratefully as the ambulance raced towards the hospital. She knew shock was playing a part in her mixed-up feelings, but on top of the accident and Luca returning to find her, and above all the fear that her recent fall had harmed the baby, her thoughts were spinning around and around.

‘Okay?’

Had she really believed that putting distance between them would lessen her feelings for him? This wasn’t the Amalfi coast where she could make the excuse of her senses being heightened by sunlight and laughter, but a grey northern coastal town in winter, and yet Luca was as compelling as ever.

‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘You’re safe now.’

His arms seemed designed to protect. They had certainly protected Callie when she’d needed him. And now Luca’s embrace was sending a very different kind of shiver spinning down her spine.

‘Look at me,’ he whispered. ‘I said, you’re safe.’

Even with his hair tousled and grazes down one side of his face, Luca looked what he was: a hero, her hero. When they’d first met it had been lust at first sight for Callie, but now it was something much more.

‘Callie?’

Instinctively nursing her still-flat stomach, as if to protect the child inside, she stared into Luca’s eyes.

‘We’re here,’ he explained gently. ‘We’ve arrived at the hospital.’

‘Oh...’

The paramedic stood aside as Luca helped her down from the ambulance. She clutched the foil blanket tighter as the wind whipped around her shoulders. The only part of her that felt warm was her hand in Luca’s. His grip was warm and strong, and it was with reluctance that she broke free from him in the screened-off cubicle when a doctor came to check her over.

‘I want an exhaustive examination. Whatever it costs,’ Luca emphasised.

‘She’ll have the best of care,’ the doctor assured him. ‘We’ll be careful that nothing escapes our notice.’

‘She’s pregnant.’

Luca knew everything. He probably had a drone positioned over the house. But when he thanked the doctor and turned around, she could only feel warm and thankful that he was back.

* * *

He was unharmed and impatient to leave, but first he had to make absolutely sure that Callie was okay. He’d wait as long as it took. Mud spattered his clothes. His jeans were ripped. Every bit of exposed skin had taken a battering. The nurses wanted to treat his wounds, but all he cared about was Callie. He sat outside the exam room while she was put through various tests. They were both ecstatic at the outcome. Babies in the womb were surprisingly well protected against trauma, the doctor told them both, and Callie had got off lightly with a sprained ankle and a colourful selection of scrapes and bruises. Apart from the shock, she was fine and could go home. The medical staff had been superb at every stage. He showed his gratitude with a generous donation, which was very well received.

‘And now for your bath,’ he told Callie as he escorted her off the hospital premises.

‘My bath?’ she queried, looking at him in bemusement.

‘Yes.’ They’d cleaned up her minor injuries in the emergency room, but like him she was still covered in dirt from the road, and he had plans. A short drive to the airport would be followed by a flight to his superyacht where Callie could enjoy a rest at sea. Heading south to the sun would be the perfect remedy, allowing her to chill out in privacy while they discussed the future.

‘I can have a bath at home,’ she said. ‘Leave me here. I’ll take a cab. Thanks for all you’ve done—’

‘You will not take a cab,’ he assured her. ‘You can play tough all you like, Callie Smith, but the rules changed when you got pregnant.’

‘It took two for me to get pregnant,’ she reminded him.

‘Which is why I’m prescribing rest for you.’

She gave him a look and then pulled out her phone.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling my landlady to check she’s okay, and calling a cab. And guess what,’ she added after a few moments of conversation with someone on the other end of the line. ‘Turns out an unknown fairy godmother has waved a magic wand, so builders and window fitters are already on site at my landlady’s shop, securing the building. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?’

‘Fairy godfather, please.’

She hummed and gave him a look.

‘About that cab,’ he said.

‘Please respect my independence, Luca.’

‘I do,’ he assured her.

‘Anywhere I want to go could easily turn into wherever you plan for me to go, and I need to get used to you being back first.’

He had no answer for that. She was right.

‘Are you going to log my every move?’ she asked with a welcome return of her customary good humour.

‘Only some of them,’ he said straight-faced.

‘My lift is on its way,’ she said. ‘Give me a chance to think things through. It’s all been such a shock. And I don’t just mean the accident. Finding out your true identity, and then the months we’ve spent apart. The gifts you sent. The notes you wrote.’

‘Would it have been easier if I hadn’t contacted you?’

A brief flash of pain in her eyes said it would have been hell. The same went for him.

‘I knew we had to talk when I discovered I was having your baby. I would never leave you in the dark. I just need time to process everything that’s happened today. Just the fact that your security team has been watching me is unnerving. I realise you’re a prince and I’m having your child, but that doesn’t give you the right to put me under surveillance.’

‘Your safety will always be my concern.’

‘Just don’t let it become your obsession.’

‘My security team check out anyone I’m seen with. They report to me, and I can hardly avoid reading what they put in their reports.’

‘I accept that,’ she said, ‘and I thank you for being so honest with me. And most especially for saving my life,’ she added in a softer tone.

‘I don’t want your thanks. I want your time.’ He was impatient for a very good reason. The royal council was pressing him to find a bride. The country was waiting. He needed an heir, and Callie’s pregnancy had set a clock ticking. He needed things settled between them before the ticking stopped.

‘You left me without an explanation, Luca, and now you’re back I’m supposed to snap to attention?’

‘I never misled you.’

‘You never told me you were a prince, either,’ Callie pointed out. ‘You allowed me to believe that you and I were on the same level.’

‘As we are,’ he insisted.

She laughed and shook her head. ‘That’s a fantasy. You’re a prince and a billionaire, and who am I?’

‘The most determined woman I’ve ever met.’

‘Flattery doesn’t wash with me, Luca. We had sex, the deepest intimacy of all, and then you simply turned your back and walked away. That means one thing to me. You’re incapable of feeling.’

‘You disappeared and pitched up here. Is that so different?’

‘I was never going to stay in Italy for ever. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me. I always knew I’d come home at some point. And now I intend to study and go on to make a purposeful life. You might be used to women throwing themselves at you, but—’

‘Not in the way that just happened,’ he said dryly.

She couldn’t bear this. She couldn’t bear the mash-up of feelings inside her. Her body was bruised. Her thoughts were in turmoil. She was in love with Luca. Their short, passionate time in Italy had left an indelible brand on her heart, but he was a man she could never have. He knew that as well as she did, surely?

‘There’s fault on both sides,’ Luca insisted. ‘You didn’t reply to my letters. You refused to see me. You rejected my gifts. And, yes, I can see it must have seemed to you that I’d callously walked away, but I hope you can see now that there was a very good reason for my absence. Spend some time in Fabrizio. See the type of life our child will have.’

Fear speared through her at his words. Hormones. She knew she was overreacting, but he would sweep her away if she let him. He would expect the royal child to live with him. Yes, she should get to know his world. Luca was no ordinary man. She could never compete with his wealth, or royal status, but she believed just as strongly in her own values, and in her ability to bring up their child. They had to talk, but not right now. ‘My cab’s here—’ She looked at his hand on her arm.

‘What are you proposing, Callie?’

Luca’s tone had changed, hardened. Their baby wouldn’t benefit from parents at war. ‘Truce,’ she said. ‘I’m proposing a truce. You’re a hero. You saved me. You saved our child’s life. I can never thank you enough for that. If nothing else, I’m sure we can be friends.’

‘Friends?’ Luca frowned.

‘Please? For the sake of our child.’

Her cab rolled up at the kerb. Talking was done. He ground his jaw. Why wouldn’t she take the lift he’d offered? He could call up a diplomatic limousine in minutes. Was this how it was going to be? He couldn’t allow Callie a free hand. The heir to Fabrizio was too precious for that.

‘I can’t believe my new phone is still in one piece,’ she said, glancing at it before putting it away.

‘Give me your number.’ He pulled out his phone.

‘Give me your number,’ she countered, ‘and I’ll call you when I’m ready.’

‘Can I at least know where you’re going,?’

‘I’ll call you,’ she said as she climbed into the cab.

Seething inside, he gave her his number. After the accident and the shock of seeing him, he had to cut her some slack, but seeing Callie again was non-negotiable. He had every intention of keeping track of his unborn child. Grinding his jaw as the cab drove away, he had to remind himself this wasn’t the end of anything, but just the start of their return match.

* * *

If her feelings had been mixed up before, they were ready to explode by the time she walked down the steps of the civic building to find Luca waiting outside. Lounging back against a sleek black car, he was staring at her with the lazy confidence that suggested he knew exactly what had happened at her job interview. Of course he knew.

Firming her jaw, she quickened her step towards him. The sooner they got this over with, the better. She’d had her suspicions at the start of her interview. It hadn’t taken her long to realise she was never going to get the job, and the director of tourism was just curious to meet her. Even he’d admitted she was everything they were looking for; gregarious and well informed, she had read up on the history of the famous illuminations from the nineteenth century to the present day.

‘And I know every nook and cranny of the town,’ she’d assured him, explaining she’d visited Blackpool on numerous occasions.

‘In short, you’re perfect for the job,’ he agreed, just before he shuffled awkwardly in his seat and explained that the vacancy was no longer available.

So why see her at all? Callie had wondered, until the director of tourism had added, ‘Don’t look so disappointed. I’m told you have a glittering future ahead of you.’

‘What did it cost you?’ she challenged Luca tensely. She’d come to a halt in front of him, and was determined to get the truth out of him, whatever it took.

‘Cost me?’ He frowned.

‘How much did it cost you to spoil my chances for that job?’ she demanded tight-lipped.

‘Nothing,’ he admitted.

‘You’re lying,’ she said quietly.

‘I think you should calm down,’ Luca remarked as he opened the passenger door of his car. ‘Climb in.’

‘Not a chance.’

‘Please.’

She started to walk past him, but he caught hold of her arm. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked. ‘You can’t go back to the shop. It’s all boarded up.’ His voice was still low and even, but it had taken on an edge. ‘Your landlady is spending the night in a very comfortable local hotel while my builders complete their repairs.’

‘Your builders,’ she snapped. ‘That says it all. Your hand in my failure at interview just now. And you say you’re not controlling? What else do you have in store for me, Luca?’

Releasing her arm, he stood back. ‘I provided a faster solution for your landlady than her insurance company could hope to offer, and that is all. As for your job interview, how are you going to work as a tour guide when you’re heavily pregnant? I can’t risk the mother of my child being exposed to people who might exploit her to get at me. Your situation has changed, Callie, whether you like it or not.’

‘It certainly has,’ she agreed. ‘I was free and now I’m not.’ She was furious. ‘How did you get an appointment to meet with the Director of Tourism so fast?’

‘His secretary recognised me.’

‘Of course she did. Since your enthronement you’re all over the news. “The world’s most eligible bachelor”,’ she quoted tensely, ‘who just happens to have a pregnant and discarded mistress on the side.’

‘Very dramatic,’ he said.

‘Dramatic? Since you came into my life, everything’s been dramatic—’ She bit off her angry words, remembering that without Luca she’d probably be dead and so would their unborn child. Hormones again, she realised. Definitely hormones. The next thing she knew there were tears in her eyes. She drove them back. ‘You said it cost you nothing to stand in the way of me getting that job. What did you do, Luca? You must have said something?’

‘I did,’ he confirmed, shielding her as the wind blasted them. ‘I offered reciprocal marketing of our two very different holiday destinations.’

‘There must be more.’

‘There was,’ he confirmed evenly. ‘I told him I wanted you to work for me.’

‘What?’

‘Get in the car.’

She was shivering violently. It was freezing cold. They stared at each other, unblinking. They both knew there could be no walking away this time. Callie had very little money left, and nowhere to stay tonight. Even a simple boarding house at this time of year, when the illuminations were drawing crowds to the resort, cost far more than she could afford to spend.

‘Where will you take me?’ she asked.

‘I thought you had a sense of adventure.’

‘I don’t like surprises.’ But her options were zero. They had to speak at some point. Why not now? Surely two intelligent human beings could come to an amicable agreement?

Seriously?

Yes, because this wasn’t about either of them, but about their child, and with their histories Callie was prepared to bet that both of them would put that child first.

The passenger door closed with a soft clunk, enclosing Callie in a very different world. This was a world that only the super-rich could afford. It wasn’t the spicy warmth of the lemon groves, or the anodyne interior of a five-star hotel, but was so comfortable that it could easily muddle her mind. It was far too tempting to relax and not think of anything but getting to her destination, wherever that might be, safely and warmly. Soft classical music played in the background, while the scent of soft leather assailed her senses. In spite of all the warnings to self, she relaxed and drank it in.

This was the scent of money, she thought as Luca swung into the driver’s seat. He only added to her pleasure with his natural warmth, and the scent of warm clean man, laced with the light, exotic fragrance he always wore. He pressed a button and the engine purred. The sexy black car pulled effortlessly out into the flowing traffic. There were no brash noises, no sharp edges, nothing to alarm. The vehicle was precision engineering at its finest, rather like the workings of Luca’s mind.

He drove as smoothly and as skilfully as he did everything else. They were heading out of town, she noticed, towards the airport. She had some decisions to make, and had better make them fast. She had agreed to get in the car, but had she agreed to travel out of the country? The thought of seeing Luca on his home turf was an exciting prospect, but she was wary of being seduced into giving up her freedom. Even now she knew his true identity, he was still the most brutally handsome and desirable man. Her body ached and longed for him. Her mind told her they needed to talk. Her soul said they were meant to be together. On a far baser level, pregnancy had made her mad for sex, and there was only one answer to that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE ROYAL JET was waiting. On this occasion he would not be the pilot. He escorted Callie on board as if she were already his Princess. He understood her need for freedom. Theirs would be a marriage for practical reasons, tying neither of them down. Its sole purpose would be to provide Fabrizio with the longed-for heir. Would she agree to that proposal? Better this woman he cared for than some unknown princess from Michel’s list, and it would fulfil Callie’s wish for independence.

Callie would certainly agree to sex. Pheromones were threatening to drown him. Electricity wasn’t just snapping, it was threatening to bring down the national grid. Taking her by the wrist, he led her straight to the rear of the plane where his private quarters were located. He had given instructions that they were not to be disturbed under any circumstances, short of an aviation meltdown. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Callie’s needs were flashing like neon signs. They’d talk later. Opening the door to his lavish suite, he ushered her inside.

‘Luca—’

‘Too much talking.’ She was still wearing high heels and her prim interview suit. ‘Keep the shoes on.’

‘What?’

‘You heard me. Take everything else off.’ She had the best legs on earth, elongated by the high-heeled shoes, and a figure to die for. The height of the heels thrust her hips forward in a way he found irresistible. Caging her with his arms either side of her face, and his fists planted against the door, he brushed his lips against hers for the sheer pleasure of hearing her moan.

‘All my clothes?’ she asked, snatching a breath.

‘Yes.’

Erotic heat clouded her eyes. ‘You haven’t told me where you’re taking me.’

‘You’re going to love the surprise.’

‘Let me decide,’ she insisted. ‘Tell me, then I’ll take my clothes off.’

She was teasing him?

‘You don’t play fair,’ she gasped as he pressed his body against hers.

‘Have you only just noticed?’

Rolling his hips, he rubbed his body against her while she groaned. When he pulled back she moved frantically towards him in an attempt to repeat the contact. The jet engines whined into life right on cue. The aircraft was ready for take-off. Any time soon there would be the most enormous thrust and they’d take to the sky. ‘You’re overdressed,’ he commented.

‘Why couldn’t we talk in Blackpool?’ she asked, playing for time, he guessed.

‘In a hotel, somewhere anonymous and clinical? Wouldn’t you rather be here?’

She gasped as he found her. ‘I can’t.’

‘I think you’ll find you can.’ He dropped a kiss on her shoulder.

‘Who lives like this?’ she said, staring past him at the designer-led living quarters on board his state-of-the-art jet.

‘Stop trying to distract yourself and enjoy.’

‘No. I can’t. I can’t...’

‘You must. I insist.’ Using his tongue to tease his way into her mouth, he deepened the kiss and pressed her back against the door. Every inch of her felt amazing. Had he really thought he knew how much he’d missed her, missed this? He didn’t have a clue. Using his thigh to edge her legs apart, he finished what he’d started. She went quite still and then cried out repeatedly. It was some time before she quietened.

Her eyes remained closed, Her breathing remained hectic. He caressed her breasts while she recovered, teasing nipples that had tightened into prominent buds very lightly with his thumbnail. Gasping out his name, she rested her head against his chest as he stroked and teased her.

‘I think we should take this to bed,’ he said at last.

She gave him a teasing look.‘Shouldn’t we be strapped in?’

‘If that’s what you’d like?’ he offered.

‘You’re bad,’ she said as he took her to see the specially designed bed belt. ‘For the billionaire who has everything, I presume?’

‘For the turbulence,’ he confirmed.

‘Do you expect much turbulence?’

‘I expect a great deal of turbulence.’

‘You’re worse than I thought,’ she said, laughing and relaxed now.

‘Worse than you know.’ Bringing her into his arms, he kissed her. When he let her go she searched his eyes in a way that touched him somewhere deep. Callie didn’t see herself as he saw her. She was a refreshing change. Most women of his acquaintance were overly self-aware, while Callie was oblivious to how attractive she was.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked him softly.

‘I’m anticipating having sex with you.’

‘That’s convenient.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes.’ She bit back a smile. ‘Because I’m doing the same.’

He moved over her. She writhed beneath him. She opened herself to him, inviting him to explore. ‘Now,’ she said with a kitten smile that made him hungrier than ever. She quivered with arousal beneath his hands as he teased her lips apart with his tongue. As he deepened the kiss she melted against him. He pressed her into the bed to rediscover the contours of her body. She was driving him crazy with lust. He was driving them both crazy, with delay. Lifting her on top of him, he caressed her buttocks, stroking them as she sighed and groaned, until finally he clasped them to position her. Reversing positions, he brought her under him.

‘What about your clothes?’ she asked.

He started to undress, but Callie was ahead of him. Ripping off his clothes, she wasn’t satisfied until they were both completely naked. Taking hold of her shoulders, he held her away from him so he could give her a long, hard look. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he ground out.

‘I’ve missed you too.’ She was trembling with excitement and anticipation, asking him with her body to be held, to be kissed, and to be pleasured until she was exhausted. He had no intention of falling short in any way. Throwing her onto her back, he hooked her legs over his shoulders. He took a long, appreciative look, and then dipped his head and feasted while Callie groaned and bucked.

‘The bed straps,’ she gasped out.

‘Are you asking to be restrained?’

‘Sounds as if we’re about to take off,’ she warned, turning her head on the pillows to listen.

He shrugged as the whine of the engines turned into an imperative roar. ‘I think you could be right,’ he agreed dryly. ‘I definitely think you should be held firmly and safely in place.’ Securing her in a few deft moves, he returned to finish what he’d started.

She didn’t last long. ‘Aaaah...’ The cry of pleasure seemed torn from her soul. It escalated into a series of rhythmical, primal sounds deep in her throat. They tormented him. She tormented him. His was a seriously painful state.

‘Ah...ah...’ she gasped out repeatedly, bucking so furiously that even the straps and his hands had a battle to contain her. Once she was capable of speech, she instructed, ‘I need you inside me now,’ with her customary bluntness.

This coincided with the pilot applying full thrust. Pinning Callie’s hands above her head on the bank of soft cushions, he did the same. The sensation as the aircraft soared and they did too, was mind-numbing. Whatever he’d imagined about sex with Callie again was nothing compared to this. She was perfection. Her inner muscles gripped him with a vigour he could never have anticipated, and from there it was a wild, furious ride to satisfaction. By the time the jet had levelled out, Callie had enjoyed at least three noisy climaxes, and was ready for more. When she was done, he turned her on her side. ‘Curl up and let me touch you. I want to watch.’

They were both blunt in bed when it came to what they liked. Callie didn’t just agree to his proposition, she used colourful language to outline exactly what was expected of him. She lifted her thigh to tempt him even more, and angled her hips so he could see everything. He sank deep with a groan of contentment. ‘More,’ she insisted. ‘More.’

He felt as if his climax started at his toes and then flooded his entire body. They were engaged in a very primitive act. He was claiming his mate. She was claiming hers. Where this could lead he had no idea, and he wasn’t in any condition to reason things through sensibly. ‘I only have one complaint,’ he said, bringing her on top of him when they were quiet again.

‘A complaint?’ she queried.

‘You should always wear more clothes so there are more to take off.’

She relaxed and smiled, and, sighing with contentment, she added, ‘Well, that’s your Christmas present sorted out.’

Then she fell silent. He realised it was only a matter of days before Christmas. There had been so much going on he hadn’t even realised. ‘Hey,’ he whispered, seeing Callie frown. ‘We’re definitely going to be together at Christmas.’

‘Are we?’ Her voice was matter of fact. Her stare was deep and long.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed, stroking her back to soothe her. ‘You’re not going to be spending Christmas in one room over a shop. I want you to see where I live.’

‘I know where you live.’

‘I mean Fabrizio.’

‘It’s still a palace.’ She sighed as if picturing a world filled with art treasures, flunkeys and hushed decorum, when the truth was a modern palace that was more of a workplace. He had homes across the world where he enjoyed complete privacy, but since his enthronement the palace had become his main residence. He had an apartment there. The palace in Fabrizio was the engine of the dynasty, but his wing was elegant and private. The boy from the gutters had come a long way. ‘Where I live overlooks a lake and gardens, and has every comfort a child could need,’ he reassured Callie.

Better than one room over a shop, he could see her thinking. ‘I’m sure it’s lovely,’ she agreed, tense now. Turning her back on him, she pulled up the covers and pretended to sleep. She did drift off eventually, while he lay at her side with his arms folded behind his head, checking his plan to make sure there’d be no hitches.

When she woke, she sat up and spotted the selection of outfits on a rail immediately. ‘Where did they come from?’

‘The cabin attendant wheeled them in.’

‘While I was asleep? In your arms?’

‘You were well covered up. I asked my private secretary to make sure there were some dresses and accessories on board for you, for when you disembark.’

‘I’ve got my suit.’

He glanced at the creased skirt and jacket, still lying on the floor where she’d dropped them. ‘Well, I have to say, this is another first.’

‘What is?’

‘A woman refusing to look at a rail of clothes.’

‘Chauvinist.’ Grabbing a sheet around her, she swung off the bed. ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t look at them, but I must insist on paying for whatever I choose.’

‘I would expect nothing less of you,’ he assured her, straight-faced.

‘Are you mocking me?’ she demanded.

‘Maybe a little,’ he admitted wryly.

For a few seconds as they stared at each other, he was stunned by how Callie made him feel. He had always guarded his emotions, but with Callie that wasn’t possible. Even with the Prince, his late father, it had been very much a man-to-man relationship. He’d never had any softening influences in his life. Women had always been accessories in the past, a deal that worked well both ways, but Callie was different, special. Tousle-haired and flushed from sleep, she was drowsy-eyed with contentment, but still ready to take him on if she felt it necessary. His groin tightened at the thought. Unfortunately there wasn’t time. They’d be landing soon. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing which outfit you choose.’

She hummed and shot him a warning look.

That was all it took. He’d been inactive long enough. Crossing the cabin, he yanked her close to plant a hard, hot kiss on her tempting mouth. ‘Surprise me,’ he whispered.

‘Don’t I always?’

He kissed her again.

‘What was that for?’ she demanded.

‘A down-payment on later.’

‘I won’t be bribed,’ she warned.

He laughed as he left the cabin. They’d slept together, made love together, and been happy together. Now they had a deal to make that both they and Fabrizio could live with. He was sure of Callie in so many ways. She was full of light and love and passion, and was honest and direct to a fault. That didn’t mean he could predict how she would react to the idea of raising their child in Fabrizio, but for him that outcome was non-negotiable.

* * *

She chose a simple outfit of jeans, crisp white shirt and a smart navy-blue blazer, teamed with a pair of mid-heeled boots. She felt comfortable, confident, and happy—until she saw the royal chauffeur, standing by the side of the big royal limousine. The imposing black vehicle flying the crimson and gold flag of Fabrizio on its bonnet, above a shield that displayed Luca’s royal house in images of a lion, a rearing black stallion and a mandolin, was a real punch between the eyes, reminding her that Luca was a royal prince with all the money, power, and influence he could ever wish for, while she couldn’t even get a job.

The chauffeur stood proudly to attention as Luca appeared at the door of the aircraft. He ushered her ahead of him. She felt exposed. The blazer and jeans didn’t seem enough somehow now that Luca had changed into a smart, dark linen suit with a pale blue open-necked shirt. If he’d looked stunning before, he looked like a prince now. Then, she thought, Stand tall, you’ve got as much right as anyone else to fall down the steps of an aircraft.

‘Take my arm,’ Luca directed, making sure she didn’t have another accident.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, thinking he would not want to be seen with her in a way that could compromise him.

‘Of course, so long as you give it back,’ he said.

Lifting a brow as he stared at her, Luca made her laugh.

Turned out, it wasn’t so hard, this royal business. Luca’s humour helped. She smiled. The chauffeur smiled back. He saluted as he opened the door of the fabulous royal limousine, and she thanked him when he saw her safely inside.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Luca demanded as the chauffeur closed the door, enclosing them in the heavy silence Callie was fast becoming used to in these luxury vehicles.

‘Not bad at all,’ she admitted. ‘Why are you doing that?’ she asked when he lowered the privacy screen.

‘Because I want you.’

Luca was as blunt as she was. Reaching across the wide expanse of soft cream kidskin, he dragged her onto his lap. ‘You should have chosen a dress.’

‘Luc—’ She was about to protest, but he cut her off with a blistering kiss, and at the same time his hand found her. ‘Oh, no,’ she groaned, yielding to the inevitable as she opened her legs a little more. ‘Oh, no?’ he queried. ‘Does that mean you want me to stop?’

‘Don’t you dare,’ she whispered, rubbing her still-tender lips against his sharp black stubble. ‘I wish I’d chosen a dress too.’

‘I’m sure we can manage,’ Luca said as his fingers worked deftly on the fastening at her waist. ‘It’s not as if we’re stuck for space.’

‘But do we have time?’ she asked as he pulled off her jeans and she pulled off her jacket, this time remembering to fold it neatly.

‘Enough time,’ Luca ground out. ‘Now your thong?’ he suggested, settling back to watch.

‘What about your clothes?’

‘What about my clothes?’ Lowering his zipper, he freed himself, proving he was more than adequately prepared. Reaching out, he brought her onto his lap. ‘Straddle me,’ he insisted, ‘and make it slow.’

She felt deliciously exposed with her legs widely spread, and deliciously excited when Luca’s hand found her. He was right about taking it slowly. She would never grow used to the size of him.

He felt so good. Linking her hands around his neck, she allowed him to guide her carefully down. He decided the pace, while she concentrated on sensation. She cried out with disappointment when his grip tightened on her buttocks, and he lifted her almost off him. Her cries of complaint brought a smile to his face, and he slowly lowered her again. Pressing down on her buttocks made sure that the contact between them was complete. And then he began to move. His hips thrust, sending him deep inside her, and he upped the tempo with each stroke until she could only bury her face in his jacket and wait for release. When it came it was incredible, and he knew just how to prolong it.

‘Better now?’ he asked quietly as she subsided into a series of soft, rhythmical sighs.

Callie lifted her head. ‘Is there time for more?’

With a soft laugh against her mouth, Luca obliged.

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