The Royal HOUSE OF NIROLI

Secret Heirs

Bride by Royal Appointment

RAYE MORGAN

A Royal Bride at the Sheikh’s Command

PENNY JORDAN

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Bride by Royal Appointment

RAYE MORGAN

The Royal House of Niroli

SEMPRE APPASSIONATO,

SEMPRE FIERO

Always passionate, always proud

The richest royal family in the world— united by blood and passion, torn apart by deceit and desire

Complete your collection with all four books!

The Royal House of Niroli: Scandalous Seductions

The Royal House of Niroli: Billion Dollar Bargains

The Royal House of Niroli: Innocent Mistresses

The Royal House of Niroli: Secret Heirs

WELCOME TO NIROLI!

Nestled in the azure blue of the Mediterranean, the majestic island of Niroli has prospered for centuries. The Fierezza men have worn the crown with passion and pride since the Middle Ages. But now, as the King’s health declines, and his two sons have been tragically killed, the crown is in jeopardy.

The clock is ticking—a new heir must be found before the King is forced to abdicate. By royal decree the internationally scattered members of the Fierezza family are summoned to claim their destiny. But any person who takes the throne must do so according to ‘The Rules of the Royal House of Niroli’. Soon secrets and rivalries emerge as the descendants of this ancient royal line vie for position and power. Only a true Fierezza can become ruler—a person dedicated to their country, their people … and their eternal love!

To CB, for friendship and sweet reason.

Thanks for being there!

CHAPTER ONE

THE kid was going to fall right over the edge.

Adam Ryder’s anger at his son was barely leashed and he was fighting to hold it back. They’d come here for sightseeing, like all the other tourists strolling around them, but Adam wasn’t thinking much about history as he climbed into the ruins of an ancient Roman villa on a site overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The island of Niroli seemed to be crammed with castles and old crumbling walls and all sorts of antique relics but that wasn’t what he’d come for.

Actually, he’d come to this particular location because it wasn’t too far from the hotel and looked to be a good place to let his six-year old son, Jeremy, loose to run off some of the excess energy that was making him such a pain to be around.

But his reason for being on Niroli, a destination he’d avoided all his life? Ah, that was harder to explain.

Still, even he had to admit the island had a magic quality. He’d felt it right away as they’d stepped off the flight from NewYork. The air seemed softer. The sunlight seemed to make things sparkle with possibilities. All of which immediately made him wary. He couldn’t let things like that seduce him away from his goal.

After all, to put it plainly, he’d come to Niroli to do a little fund-raising. He needed money to save his company—big money—and he was willing to do almost anything to get it, including accepting an unusual offer that had been made to him—the crown of this little island country. And there was nothing magical about that.

Meanwhile, he had to deal with Jeremy. He’d brought the boy along hoping to create a few bonding opportunities, but his interest in that project was waning fast. The thing was, the nanny he’d hired to come along and take care of his son had quit right there in the airport, loudly declaring she couldn’t stand the boy just moments before boarding the plane.

Adam kept remembering the odd, slightly triumphant smile on Jeremy’s face as she had stormed away. He’d faced off grown men in bar fights in his younger days with hardly a quiver of fear, but the look on his son’s face, just before departing all known civilization with only him in tow, still sent shivers down his spine. He knew how to handle adults, both male and female. But what was he going to do with this kid?

“Take him out and let him run,” the woman at the concierge desk at the hotel had suggested.

So here he was, letting Jeremy run. And the boy certainly ran. Up and down and all over the ruins, his blond hair flying in the breeze. At least he seemed interested in the ruins. That was something. He’d spent the entire plane ride asking, “Are we there yet?” until Adam had had to bite down on his own hand to keep from yelling at him.

Now Jeremy was balancing on the viaduct that had once brought water to the villa, a portion of which came perilously close to the edge of the cliff. Adam frowned. He supposed he should do the parental thing and warn him about falling.

“Jeremy, don’t go out on the edge like that,” he called out. “It’s dangerous.”

The boy looked back at him and laughed. Adam shook his head. What six-year-old boy laughed like that, with that wicked tone, as though he relished torturing adults? The only thing he could think was that he’d better hire another, tougher nanny, and do it fast.

“Stay away from the edge.”

Jeremy turned from the viaduct, but he began to climb the crumbling exterior wall of the old villa instead. Adam started toward him. This was getting ridiculous. The kid was going to kill himself.

“Jeremy! Damn it, get down from there right now!”

Jeremy turned to climb higher—and fell right over the edge.

The shout that came from Adam seemed to rip through the walls of his chest. Shock and then sharp fear jolted through him and he began to run, cursing and praying at the same time. Oh, God! What if …?

He threw himself into the ruin and began to scramble up the steep wall, heading for the spot where Jeremy had gone over the edge. The Roman bricks crumbled under his feet, making for impossible climbing, but then he gained the harder ledge and vaulted up into position. Looking down, he braced himself for the sight of his son’s shattered body lying on the rocks, thirty feet below.

Instead, he saw Jeremy kneeling at the feet of a slender woman, petting what looked like a golden retriever, and from his new vantage point he could see that there was a shelf, a sort of patio area, that jutted out over the sea, not far beneath him.

He took a deep breath and let his shoulders sag, but relief was followed quickly by raw anger. Now he realized that Jeremy hadn’t fallen. He’d jumped. Adam let out an angry shout, then turned and made his way to the stone steps he noticed along the side. By the time he reached where the young woman was sitting on an old stone wall, Jeremy and the dog had gone on down to the rocky shore beneath and were now frolicking at the water’s edge.

His anger at his son was only made worse by his sense of frustration, and he swore, then turned grudgingly toward the woman.

“Sorry,” he muttered, just in case she was the type to take offense.

And then he stopped and looked again. She was quite striking. Her body was slim and graceful, her dark brown hair sleek and shining in the sunlight and braided with a silk scarf the color of spring leaves. Her neck seemed unusually long and slender, making him think of ballet dancers. He couldn’t see her eyes as she wore a pair of very dark and stylish Gucci sunglasses, but the features he could see could have been classically cut in fine porcelain. In direct contrast, her mouth was full and lush and sensual, and her chin tilted impudently.

“I hope my son didn’t bother you,” he said, his gaze sliding over the creamy skin of her bare arms.

Her blouse was lacy, her skirt a wide swath of emerald-green gauze. Her feet looked delicate in leather sandals, the toenails painted a pearly pink. There was an elf-like air of the forest sprite about her, though she was too tall and well rounded to be a fairy. Altogether, she was very much the most enchanting creature he’d seen in a long time. He turned toward her the way plants responded to sunlight—as though he had to have her in his life.

“Oh, no,” she responded pleasantly. “I enjoyed meeting him. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

“Wonderful? Hah.” That almost startled a laugh from him, but he liked her musical speaking voice with its faint accent adding a certain lilting charm. “I guess you didn’t really have time to get to know him,” he noted dryly.

A frown appeared between her neat eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” she asked bluntly. “Why would you say such a thing about your own son?”

He hesitated. It probably did sound cold to someone who hadn’t been thoroughly annoyed by Jeremy yet. He had a pang of remorse. Maybe she was right and he was getting too cynical about the boy.

“Frustration, I guess,” he said, rubbing a hand through his sand-colored hair and giving her the up-from-under-his-eyebrows look that had been known to make grown women swoon like teenagers. “It’s been a long, wearing day.”

She didn’t swoon. In fact, her mouth thinned a bit. “Oh?” she said in a tone that bespoke impending boredom. It was obvious she hadn’t been charmed.

“We just flew in from New York,” he explained.

“I see.”

She turned her face and looked out over the ocean. He was feeling dismissed. That surprised him. In his Hollywood milieu he was considered a very attractive, not to mention very powerful, man. The production company he’d founded and ran to this day was one of the most important in the business, despite the takeover nightmare it was going through right now.

And beside that, he didn’t suffer dismissal lightly. If there was any dismissing to be done, he liked to be the one doing it. An impulse to confront her reaction rose in him right away.

But he fought it. For once he wasn’t getting the admiring female response he was used to taking as his due. So what? He had more important things to take care of.

Looking down at the shoreline, he saw that Jeremy was still playing with the dog. He supposed he should go down and join them. But at that moment, the dog shook water from his wet fur all over Jeremy, and Adam grimaced.

Between rolling in the wet sand with a boy and a dog and hanging around on the ledge trying to get a beautiful woman to admit he was worth getting to know, the choice was an easy one. It was the challenge, he told himself. He glanced at the stone wall she was sitting on.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, moving to do just that without waiting for her answer.

She hesitated just long enough to let him know this wasn’t her preference, but she was polite.

“Please do,” she said coolly, but she was gracious, shifting a little to be sure there was room for him and moving a huge canvas bag that looked big enough to contain all her earthly possessions.

He sat close enough to get a hint of her scent. It was fresh and spicy and not very sweet. For some reason, that gave him a frisson of excitement for just a moment, and immediately he was flooded with an urge to kiss those full lips.

He drew himself up, startled. He hadn’t reacted so viscerally to a woman in years—and he was used to being around a lot of beautiful women. Maybe it was the magic of the place, the soft, seductive breeze, the sound of the gentle waves on the beach below. He turned quickly, looking out at the ocean, thrown off a bit and not sure whether he wanted her to see how he was responding to her or not. If there was one thing he hated it was revealing any sort of vulnerability.

And that was a reaction he was noticing in himself more and more lately. He didn’t trust anyone much, but experience had taught him that beautiful women were the most likely to betray you in a purely personal way.

What was the expression? Once bitten, twice shy? He’d been bitten all right. He’d practically had his arm chewed off a few times. And, yeah, he was shy. Damn shy. He was going to require big-time proof before he could be convinced trust was worth the cost.

Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the game. He just didn’t expect to win any prizes or take home the game pieces when he won.

“Nice view,” he said gruffly, looking out over the huge expanse of sparkling Mediterranean water. “Do you come here often?”

“All the time. It’s my favorite place to come when I have big decisions to make,” she told him candidly. “Or when I feel the need to get away from it all.”

Turning toward him, she smiled and her small white teeth gleamed in the golden sunlight. “Or when I just want to commune with my ancient ancestors.”

“Ancestors, huh?”

He smiled back at her, ready to flirt if she was going loosen up a bit. Flirting didn’t cost much. You didn’t have to lay yourself open for it to work, and it could be fun. It could also lead to some quality bed time. You just never did know. And she was the most appealing potential bed partner he’d seen in a long, long time. It might be worth wading through her prickly attitude to get to the good stuff.

“This place is crawling with my ancestors,” she said, waving a hand in the air as though there were groups of them hanging around all up and down the cliffs and caves.

“No kidding?” He looked around at the rock wall behind them, willing to join in her conceit if she would let him play. “Why don’t you introduce me?”

She laughed softly. “What do you care about my musty old Nirolian ancestors?”

“You’d be surprised. I’ve got a few of my own.”

She cocked a sleek eyebrow. “Do you?”

“So they tell me.”

At last there was a spark of interest in her manner. He supposed she’d be even more interested if he told her he was King Giorgio of Niroli’s illegitimate grandson.

But it had never been a point of pride with him. In fact, he’d been raised with the vague feeling that it was really something to be ashamed of. There was no doubt that his maternal grandparents thought it was something his mother should be ashamed of. But then, they had always thought just about everything his mother did should be hushed up. And since they’d pretty much raised him on their Kansas farm, it was an attitude that lingered stubbornly in his psyche, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

“But I thought you just came from New York,” the graceful woman was saying.

“That’s right. I’ve never been here to Niroli before. But my father was … Nirolian.”

“Ah.”

She stretched the syllable out as though that explained everything—and not in a good way. He frowned. Her attitude was beginning to get on his nerves. But before he could probe it further, Jeremy shrieked and the dog barked. He rose, looking down to see what was going on.

“Jeremy, leave that dog alone,” he called down. He didn’t know if his son had actually done anything to the animal, but he thought he might as well cover all bases.

“His name is Fabio,” she said coolly.

“Who? Oh, the dog?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He turned and called down again. “Jeremy, leave Fabio alone.”

“You aren’t very good at it, are you?” she said dryly as he sat down again.

He looked at her, startled. “At what?”

“Parenting. You don’t seem to have the knack for it.”

He stared at her. Now he was sure of it. She hated him. What right did she have to decide to hate him at first sight anyway? He was a decent guy. And she was damn annoying.

“What do you know about my parenting skills?”

“I can hear it in the way you talk to him. You shouldn’t talk to a boy that age the way you do. You can’t order him about as though he were a soldier.”

He couldn’t believe this. She actually thought she could tell him how to raise his kid. “He needs some discipline,” he said, pointing out what was obvious to the rest of the world.

“Why aren’t you disciplining him, then?”

He stared at her. Was she purposefully goading him? “That’s what I’m trying to do!”

She shook her head. “There you go, raising your voice again.”

And he thought he’d been frustrated before? “What do you prefer?” he shot back, making a Herculean effort not to let his voice get harsher. “Do you think I should hit him?”

“Of course not. I think you should give him some structure.” She sighed. “I’ll bet you don’t know him very well, no matter how often you have him around.”

She turned toward him in that odd way she had. He wished she would take off those dark glasses so he could read more in her eyes.

“But it’s not often, is it? And you came to Niroli thinking you could get closer to your son just by being here with him.”

She had certainly hit the nail on the head with that guess. In fact, she seemed almost eerily clairvoyant. But he hated to admit she was right about anything. “What if I did?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Well, I don’t think it’s working. And if you don’t improve your technique, it’s not going to work, no matter how loud you get.” She looked at him with pity. “You need help.”

He stifled the angry answer that sprang to his lips. She was just plain wrong, but arguing about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Okay,” he said instead, opting with difficulty for sweet reason—giving charm one last chance to make a difference. “Help me, then.”

Her smile was meant as a reaction and not a way to draw him in. “I think not.”

Her superior tone was maddening. She was dismissing him again. Well, if she was such a damn expert …

“So how many children do you have?” he asked pointedly.

She raised her head, amused at how angry he was getting, and at how hard he was trying to hide it.

“Not one.” She said it without a hint of embarrassment. “I don’t even have a husband at this point.”

“Then why the hell should I listen to you?”

She tossed her head. “You’d better listen to someone. Your intuition doesn’t seem to be doing you any good at all.”

There, Elena Valerio thought coolly. That ought to do it. Now he would get up and storm off and she would be rid of him. And that was exactly what she wanted. wasn’t it?

She wished she could see him. That didn’t happen often these days. She’d accepted her blindness years ago and she had worked out so many ways to compensate, she almost felt it an advantage at times. But from the first, his brusque voice and his cocky manner had triggered something in her she couldn’t explain, and she wished she could put a face to the image she was getting.

She heard impatience and a world-weary cynicism that she didn’t like. He was a user—that was what she heard. His arrogance was only exceeded by his need to control those around him. At the same time he seemed to want to charm her, she sensed a strange coldness inside him that chilled her. He was everything she disliked in a man.

But he was still here. What was he waiting for? She sighed.

“Okay, mister. Here’s a free tip. Relax.”

“Relax? Why should I relax?”

“Didn’t you come to Niroli to refresh yourself?”

“No. I came on business.”

“Ah, that explains it. You should let that tension go. It’s tying you in knots. Your son can sense that, so he doesn’t trust you. It’s no wonder he defies you.”

Adam bit his tongue to keep from giving back to her as good as he was getting. He was sure there were a few home truths he could aim in her direction if he gave it some thought. But that would get them nowhere. He decided to take a new tack instead.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said, looking at how it gleamed in the sunlight and resisting the urge to reach out and touch it.

“Do I?” She seemed surprised. “I must say I like the way it feels on my back.” She swished it against the skin exposed by the low-cut blouse.

“You have a beautiful back, too,” he added for good measure.

She stiffened. “That’s getting a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Sorry,” he said unconvincingly.

“No, you’re not.”

He’d just about had it with her. “Would you explain why you took an instant dislike to me?” he asked.

“Does it come through that clearly?” She pressed her lips together, then smiled. “Good.”

He stared at her. He knew he should get up and leave. She didn’t want him here. And yet, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away. He wanted her to like him. Or maybe he just wanted her to admit he wasn’t that bad so he could be the one to dismiss her. He wasn’t sure which it was.

“Maybe I can explain my … less-than-friendly reaction to you this way. You think women should fall for you like … like apples in a tree, right into your arms. Don’t you?”

“So what are you saying?” he quipped back. “That you’re not ripe yet?”

She gave him a baleful look from behind the glasses.

“Or maybe, it’s this. That you’re forbidden fruit?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that one. “Bingo,” she said, then sobered. “Now if you don’t mind …”

“But I do mind.” He breathed in her scent again and knew that was part of the reason he didn’t want to leave her. She smelled like exotic fruit—forbidden or not. And he was rapidly developing a taste for it. He stayed right where he was and began to talk about simple, banal things around them, just to try to lower the unease between them.

Listening to him, Elena began to tap her foot nervously. He put her on edge and she didn’t like that. She came to this place for peace and resuscitation, not to be the object of a verbal joust.

She wondered for a moment if she should call Fabio back. She’d been told when he first came to work for her that she wasn’t to let him play with children. He was a professional with tasks to perform and it would confuse him to treat him like a house pet. At first she’d been very rigid about it, making sure he toed the line in all aspects of their relationship. But the more she’d grown to depend upon him, the more she’d relaxed. He was enjoying the boy. She could hear them both. That told her he was still close enough so that she didn’t need to worry. And they were having such a good time. She smiled. She would let him play awhile longer.

The man’s arm brushed hers and she almost gasped. Luckily, she controlled the impulse, but she bit into her lower lip to do it. He didn’t seem to notice. He was talking about the sunlight on the ocean and the quality of the water below them. Ordinary things. Things anyone might talk about. And though he hadn’t left, he wasn’t being so obnoxious anymore. She sighed. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. She shouldn’t be so judgmental. He was probably a decent enough fellow.

And yet.

There was something there that bothered her, something she could hear in his voice. An underlying unhappiness, perhaps—an old wound that still festered. Something that ate at him deep inside.

But she had no intention of trying to help this man. He wasn’t a friend and he was never going to be. She moved impatiently, about to call Fabio back to her side, but her foot struck the side of her canvas bag and she felt it overturn and spill its contents onto the ground.

“Oh, bother,” she muttered, leaning down to collect her belongings.

But he did it for her. “Here you go,” he said, but then he hesitated and she waited, wondering what he’d found that interested him among her things.

“So you’re an artist,” he said at last.

She frowned, surprised. “Of sorts,” she replied, thinking of her musicianship. She’d been extremely musical from the beginning, and once she’d lost her sight, at age four, she’d plunged into music as a way of communicating with a world that didn’t know what to do with people like her. “How did you know?”

“I can see you’ve been sketching.”

She went very still. What on earth was the man talking about? “Have I?” she said carefully.

“Yes. Here’s your sketchbook. It fell out of your bag.”

My sketchbook? What sketchbook?

Then her mind cleared. Ah, Gino. Her very gay, very artistic friend who often came along when she climbed out here in the ruins. He’d come along today, but had gone back to the house to make a phone call. The sketchbook had to be his.

“Mind if I look at these?” the man was asking.

“Oh, why not?” She laughed softly, wondering what else Gino had left in her bag.

She heard pages rustling, but there was dead silence from her companion.

“Wow,” he said at last, his voice somewhat strangled. “Michelangelo’s got nothing on you.”

She frowned, wondering what on earth that meant. “It’s nice to have one’s work appreciated,” she said ambiguously.

“You do have a way with …” he cleared his throat “ … uh, the nude male form.”

She choked back a laugh. Oh, Gino, what have you been up to? From the nuances she sensed in this man’s voice, whatever he’d found on the pages was pretty darn provocative. She could just imagine—Gino unleashed!

Good heavens. And just how did he suppose that a blind woman managed that sort of thing? But he still didn’t realize she was blind. People often didn’t catch on at first. She’d trained herself to move and express herself just as a sighted person would. Fate had played a very large, serious joke on her and she enjoyed playing her little joke on the world in return. Still, most people got clued in relatively quickly. Usually seeing her with Fabio and putting two and two together was what did it. But then, he hadn’t really seen her with her dog, had he? He’d seen his son with Fabio, not her, and the connection hadn’t been made. Interesting.

“So you like the style?” she asked, having a hard time holding back a chuckle. “Tell me. Which is your favorite?”

He choked for just a moment, and his voice was a bit ragged when he responded. “Why don’t you tell me which is yours?”

“Hmm.” She put her head to the side. “I think I love them all.”

“Right.” He drew in a sharp breath and didn’t seem to have a good response to that one.

He didn’t know what to make of her. It was obvious. Finding nude sketches in her bag presented a whole new side of her from his point of view. He was probably trying to decide whether to take it as an earthy invitation to intimacy—or to run for cover. The laughter bubble was coming up her throat and she didn’t know how long she would be able to hold it back.

“So. Do you hire models for this kind of thing?” he asked carefully.

She shook her head. She knew it was time to stop this. She could hear the intensity building in his voice. The thought of her sketching these nude male images was turning him on in a big way. And an aroused, aggressive man whom she didn’t really know was something she didn’t want to deal with. But she couldn’t resist one last needling.

“Why? Are you offering your services?” She raised an eyebrow and waited to see what he would say.

“That would depend on the compensation,” he said, moving closer, his voice deepening.

She moved a little away, but still asked, “What would you consider a fair price?”

He paused, and for some reason her pulse began to quicken.

“I always say the kindness of a beautiful woman is worth more than gold.”

His voice was low and seductive now and he was moving even closer to her. If his son hadn’t been romping nearby, she was sure he would have made some sort of move by now. Surprisingly, she felt a quick shiver of apprehension. The joke was played out. She had let this go on too long as it was. Once again, as her friends always warned her, she was playing with fire and she was going to get burned if she didn’t put out the flames right away.

CHAPTER TWO

“I’VE never been one to trust much in “the kindness of strangers”,” Elena said quickly, lifting her chin and making sure any hint of teasing was erased from her tone. Instead, she was back to being brisk and dismissive. “And I’m not hiring right now. In fact, if you don’t mind …”

Her words stopped in her throat. He’d leaned very close to her, so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“But I do mind, beautiful lady,” he said, his voice very quiet, but hard as steel. “And I don’t like being played with.”

He didn’t touch her, but she felt as though he had. Suddenly she was breathless and her heart was hammering in her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. Either way, it was something she wasn’t used to. And she wanted it to stop. Had she gone too far this time? Had she walked too close to the edge?

But in the next second, all was confusion as a crowd of tourists appeared on the ruin above the terrace, and Fabio was back, panting happily and pushing his head against her knee, and she sensed the man drawing away. And then he was calling his son and she heard the crunch of crumbled stone in his departure.

On pure reflex, her hand rose and covered the area of her face where his warm breath had seared it. His voice and the sense of his presence had disturbed something in her in a way she’d never felt before. She shivered and hoped fervently she would never come across the man again.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Gino was back. She sighed and smiled at him in relief.

“I’m fine,” she lied, then shivered one last time. “But I think one of my ancestors just walked across my grave.”

“Elena Valerio, you are in big trouble.”

She moaned softly and made a face as she settled back into her chair at the trendy sidewalk café she frequented every morning. She was talking to herself in public again. She had to nip this new bad habit in the bud. People would think she was going mad. Even Fabio had lifted his head questioningly. She could sense it.

“You know you’re in trouble when even your dog turns on you,” she murmured, scratching him behind the ears.

And so she was, though it had nothing to do with Fabio at all. Her trouble was all about a restlessness that had come over her since meeting the child Jeremy and his disturbing father the day before. She felt as though she’d been sleepwalking, living life in a daze, and now, suddenly, the man she’d met had shaken her awake. Awakening was painful. She had to face the fact that she’d been letting herself drift. If she didn’t pull herself together and begin to take charge of her life, she was going to hit the rocks.

Elena had lived in Niroli all her life, and that life had been pleasant and peaceful despite her disability. She’d been raised by her grandmother in a small cottage here in the sleepy town of Monte Speziare, where the old ways were treasured and the new tourist hotels and other developments to the south were looked upon with horror. Her grandmother had recently died, leaving nothing but the little cottage they lived in, and Elena was supporting herself by giving piano lessons and hoping to scrape together enough money to attend a special music therapy training program in New York.

At least, that was what she told herself. And yet, she’d just found out that morning that one of her best students was leaving for Italy. That left her with hardly enough daily fees coming in to feed herself, much less prepare for any sort of future. It was definitely time to start getting serious about things. She needed new revenue.

And she needed to stop thinking about men. Well, not men, actually. One man. One man who had shaken up her emotions at the same time he’d shaken her assumptions. It was strange the way he’d tangled himself into her thoughts. She didn’t like him and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Suddenly, she felt prickles on the back of her neck. “Oh, no,” she whispered. She didn’t need to see him. She could feel him. He was coming toward her and there was nothing she could do to avoid him.

Well, at least this was a completely public place. Maybe things would go better here. He couldn’t try to intimidate her.

Better yet, maybe they would pass without seeing her. She tried to make herself small in her chair, turned her face toward the stucco wall of the café, held her breath.

And then she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey! Look! It’s Fabio. Come on!”

“Jeremy!”

She slumped in her chair. It would seem that things were just going to get more and more complicated. There was no way out.

Adam saw her at the same time Jeremy did, and he tried, too late, to steer his son toward the other side of the road. Jeremy ran straight for the little street-side café where she was sipping a drink and he followed, reluctantly. The last thing in the world he needed was another run-in with the aggravating lady in the Gucci shades.

He had enough on his mind. He’d barely been in Niroli twenty-four hours and already he was itching to leave. Jeremy was driving him crazy and his first meeting with the counselors at the palace had been less than reassuring. He’d expected to show up, meet his grandfather, King Giorgio, maybe have a lot of people make a big fuss over how glad they were to see him, and then come away with a contract to look over, options to weigh. That was the way things were done in the real world, weren’t they? It should have been cut and dried.

Instead, he’d been received as though no one was quite sure who he was or why he was there wasting their time. He’d been shuffled from one room to another until he’d finally ended up talking to a dour man named Tours who had claimed they’d thought he wasn’t coming until the next week. The truth had finally come out—the royal counselors in charge of this thing were off on holiday and now they expected him to cool his heels until they came back.

He didn’t have time for that. His company was undergoing a hostile takeover back in California. He needed resolution and he needed money and he needed both fast. Strong words had ensued. Thinking back, he realized that hadn’t helped matters. He was going to have to work on controlling his temper. They didn’t seem to know how to react to it.

Tours had then insisted he transfer from his hotel to rooms in the palace, all the better, no doubt, to keep tabs on him. Adam had insisted he would do no such thing. If he had to wait around for a week, at least he was going to do it on his own terms.

And when he had asked to see his grandfather, Tours had acted as though he had to prove himself worthy first. But why should that surprise him? Had he really imagined they were going to welcome him with open arms, his illegitimacy forgiven? More fool he. It was more than evident that the situation of his birth was a big issue, and that there were factions who were opposed to him being offered the job in the first place. This had certainly turned out to be more complicated than he had been led to believe.

What was the big deal, anyway? All they wanted was to hire a king for their little island country. He’d put together multimillion-dollar international projects with fewer hassles than this looked as if it was going to take.

In the meantime, he couldn’t get hold of anyone back in Hollywood and he needed to make sure some dotting of i’s and crossing of t’s was going on in his absence. He was also going to have to warn Zeb Vargas, his number two at Ryder Productions, that this was going to take more time than he’d thought it would. Deals were hanging in the balance. Banks were waiting for authorizations. Writers and actors he wanted under contract were being enticed away by other producers with more ready cash. Profits were melting away in the sun. He needed to get things settled.

And so he approached the beautiful lady without a smile, nodding shortly and grunting a greeting, while Jeremy wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck and murmured unintelligible love to the animal, who accepted it all with happy panting.

“Hello,” she said, turning slightly toward him and then away again. “What a surprise. I didn’t think we’d ever meet up again.” She frowned slightly. “This is a bit off the beaten tourist path. Are you staying nearby?”

That was another problem. The press had already sniffed out his hotel accommodations and for that reason—and other, having to do with Jeremy—he was in the market for a new place to stay. Nothing seemed as simple as it should be in this little country.

“Not for long,” he said gruffly, wondering why she didn’t look at him. Memories of their last meeting came back to him and he felt a vague sense of irritation. She could at least pretend not to hate him.

“Can I take Fabio for a walk?” Jeremy interrupted eagerly.

Elena hesitated, obviously reluctant to extend the meeting. Adam picked up on that and shared her impulse.

“Uh, I think we have to get going,” he began, but his son’s intensity drowned out his words.

“Oh, please, please!” Jeremy cried, with Fabio happily licking his face. “He’s my best friend now.”

Adam looked at his son in astonishment. He’d never heard that childlike pleading tone from him before. Usually it was all demands and whining. There seemed to be something special in Jeremy’s relationship to this pair. Odd.

“Well, just for a moment,” Elena was saying, and he knew it was reluctantly. “I’ll tell you what you can do. Do you see a butcher’s shop down the street a bit?”

“Yes. The one with the hanging sign?”

“That’s the one. If you take Fabio to the back door of that shop, I think the butcher will give him a bone. He often does. Just knock on the door.”

“Great,” Jeremy said, jumping up and brimming with joy.

“Wait a minute,” she added. “He has his harness on today. You must hold it from the top, like this.” She demonstrated and Jeremy took over, racing off with his new best friend.

Adam watched them go, dodging the few people who strolled up and down the charming street, window-shopping in the tiny shops along the way. He was still impressed by how different Jeremy could be when he wanted to.

“That’s quite a rig you have on the dog,” he noted in passing. “It looks almost like …”

He stopped dead, looking at her quickly. Almost like the kind the blind use, he’d been about to say. And suddenly it hit him. The moment he realized the truth, he felt as though he’d been smacked in the solar plexus with a football.

“Yes, he is a guide dog,” she said calmly. “And, yes, I am. Blind, that is.”

He was still too stunned to speak, not to mention the accompanying humiliation of being such a fool as not to have noticed before.

“Oh, pick your jaw up off the ground,” she said briskly.

“I … I’m so sorry, I …”

“No need to be sorry. It’s been quite amusing. I threw all kinds of hints out there that you didn’t pick up on.” She smiled serenely. “I think you hold the record. You’re the most clueless man I’ve ever met.”

“I. listen, I just didn’t …”

“It’s been almost a good twenty-four hours, hasn’t it? I once went three hours straight with an elderly man with a hearing problem who didn’t realize I was blind, but he was talking at the top of his lungs the whole time. And at ninety-four you expect a little density. But you!” She grinned, happy to have found a vulnerability in him. “You take the prize.”

He knew he was flushing. Luckily, she couldn’t see that, could she? Now if he could just get a steady tone back in his voice, he might be able to get back in control of this situation. He sank into a chair across from where she was sitting and looked at her, hard.

She was blind. For some reason that tore at him in a way he wasn’t prepared for. What a tragedy. She was so beautiful. His compassion for her hardship actually overwhelmed his resentment for having been fooled— and that wasn’t like him.

A waiter appeared, offered coffee drinks, and retreated again, and Adam nodded his response, but his mind was completely engaged in this lovely woman’s situation.

“My son says your name is Elena,” he managed to say at last, leaning forward and talking very slowly.

“Yes. Elena Valerio.”

“I am Adam Ryder,” he went on gingerly. “And I guess you’ve picked up that my son is Jeremy.”

She groaned, letting her head fall back. “Mr Ryder, I’m blind, not deaf, not hard of hearing, or even somewhat slow. You don’t have to speak carefully to me. Please. Just use your normal voice.”

He flushed again, annoyed at … what? Being caught out trying to be compassionate? That was the problem. It didn’t come naturally to him. No wonder she’d nailed him on it.

“Okay, Elena Valerio,” he said, speaking in a quick staccato. “I’m Adam. And if you skip the jokes about the Garden of Eden, I’ll lay off treating you like you’re in need of a keeper.”

Smiling, she stuck out a slender hand. “You’ve got a deal. It’s nice to meet you, Adam Ryder.”

He took her hand in his and held it a moment too long, studying it, admiring the long, slender fingers, the pink nails, the smooth skin.

“It’s nice of you to say so, Elena Valerio,” he responded as she pulled her hand away again. “I hope nothing happens to make you change your mind.”

She looked startled. “What could happen? Why are you talking in riddles?”

He smiled, glad to be back in control. “Tired of games? You seemed all for them yesterday.”

It was her turn to flush. “Sorry about that,” she said breezily. “But you’ve got to admit, you asked for it.”

He wasn’t prepared to admit anything of the kind, but he didn’t say so. He was still trying to adjust to the fact of her blindness. There were so many angles to it, aspects he’d never considered before. He pushed away the pity factor immediately. His intuition told him she would scorn any sort of sympathy for her condition. And that left him to wonder at her elegance and how gracefully she seemed to deal with the situation. He couldn’t imagine coming to terms with such a thing himself. Anger and bitterness would probably rule his life.

As if they didn’t already, he thought wryly, though he knew he was overstating a bit. Still, no one would call him a happy man these days. A cynical man, yes. A hard man. Life tended to make you that way.

He’d been taken aback recently when he’d overheard a young female employee at his film production company say, “Mr Ryder is so hot. How come he never smiles?”

Smile, he’d thought at the time. What the hell was there to smile about, anyway? Who had time? Smiling was for losers.

And yet he’d made it a point to stop by the men’s room and look into a mirror. She was right. Smiling didn’t seem to come naturally anymore. He finally forced the corners of his mouth up into the proper shape but his silver-blue eyes didn’t join in. They were still as cold as an Arctic winter.

He hadn’t been born angry. In fact, despite having a mother who spent her days dashing about the world with the jet set, his childhood had been relatively calm. But it seemed as if he was angry all the time lately. Maybe that was why Jeremy was so impossible to handle. The sins of the father and all that.

He looked at Elena and wondered if she had a lover.

“I guess you didn’t make those sketches, did you?” he said sadly.

Her laugh sounded like chimes. “No, I did not.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“Such a pity.” She pretended sympathy. “You thought you’d found a woman with a lot of naked male anatomy on her mind.”

She had him there. The idea had been appealing. “I thought I’d found a very interesting woman, that’s for sure.”

“So women aren’t interesting if there is no sex involved?”

There was a pause, and then he said softly, just because he couldn’t resist, “Who says there’s no sex involved?”

“I …”

That stopped her for the moment. She actually blushed. He grinned. The waiter brought a tall coffee drink he didn’t recognize as anything he would have ever ordered, but he accepted it, then waited for the man to leave before he leaned forward and asked, “So if you didn’t draw them, who did?”

“My friend Gino did. He came out on the ruins with me, but he went back before you arrived to make a phone call and left his sketchbook in my bag.”

That made him raise his eyebrows. “So he’s the one interested in male nudes.”

She smiled. “You might say that. He’s a very good artist, isn’t he?”

“I suppose. Though I’d be a better judge of that if the nudes were female.”

Her smile faded. She didn’t need any reminders that he was aggressively heterosexual. His vibes were coming through loud and clear—and making her nervous. She had no intention of getting chummy. As soon as Fabio and the boy came back, she would find an excuse to leave. In the meantime, she didn’t mind sparring with him a bit, as long as he didn’t take it as an invitation toward anything friendlier.

He moved and she tensed, not sure what he was going to do, then felt a bit foolish when it was obvious he was just using his cell phone. She reached for her drink, as if that had been her objective all along, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Damn,” he said after a moment. “Why don’t cell phones work around here? I can’t get through to anyone on this phone.”

“Is it set up for international?” she asked.

“I bought it deliberately for just that reason,” he said. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a magic button or something.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to offer him the use of her landline. Her cottage was just around the corner. But she stopped herself just in time. She really didn’t want this man in her little house. Better not to suggest it. There ought to be a line he could use at whatever hotel he was checked into.

“Where are you staying?” she asked, since the subject had come up, at least in her mind.

“Why do you want to know?” he shot back without missing a beat.

“Oh!” This was surely the most defensive and distrustful man she’d ever met. She made a quick sound of exasperation. “What do you mean, why do I want to know? That is so rude!”

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “But, believe me, I have reason to not want people to know where I’m staying.” He hesitated. “We started out at the Ritz but I’m afraid we’ve got to move to another place. They’ve likely put our possessions in the street by now.”

She shook her head, uncomprehending. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

He sighed heavily. “My adorable son Jeremy happened. As usual.”

She frowned. The man was impossible. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about him that way.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” He saw the look on her face and backed down a bit. “Okay, I’ll try to hold back on the sarcasm. But, believe me, you’ll be saying mean things about him too when you hear what he did.”

She made a disbelieving face. “Tell me.”

He took a sip of his unfamiliar coffee drink and had to admit it was pretty good. Settling back, he began his story.

“Here’s how it all went down. I was up half the night trying to make business calls to the States, so Jeremy woke up before I did this morning and headed out to see whose life he could ruin.”

“Adam!”

He grinned, then, realizing she couldn’t see a grin, shrugged and went on. “When I woke up and saw he was gone, I knew right away we were in trouble. I searched all over for him, looking for evidence of recent disasters. It took awhile, but I finally went to the hotel kitchen. And there he was.”

“And? What did he do there—sneak a cookie?”

“Oh, no.” He issued a short laugh. “Jeremy never does small things like that. I’ll tell you what he did.” He grimaced, remembering the sight he was about to recount to her. “You see, the kitchen staff were preparing for a wedding, and in a sweetly fashioned little portico they had placed a beautifully decorated wedding cake, all ready to go. It was about five layers tall. And I’m sure it was a work of art … before Jeremy got to it and licked off most of the frosting.”

She gasped. “Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes.” He groaned, stretching out in his chair and shaking his head as he remembered the horrible scene. “The funny thing was, he liked the yellow roses and gobbled them right down, but the red roses didn’t taste right to him, so as he pulled them off he merely squished them on the table. They looked like sad little soldiers lying there, abused and unwanted. It was heartbreaking. Really.”

Elena was trying not to laugh but it wasn’t easy holding it back.

“In the meantime, he dipped his finger into the white foundation coat, making swirly pictures as he scooped off hunks of white frosting and gorged himself with it. And no one caught him in time, so he just kept eating. He was looking a bit green around the gills by the time I found him—and still trying to stuff more frosting down his greedy gullet.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Poor Jeremy.”

“Poor Jeremy?” He was slightly outraged by her misdirected sympathy. “How about poor Jeremy’s father? Or the poor pastry chef? Or the poor bride, for God’s sake. You should have heard the screaming once everyone realized what had happened.”

She held back a chuckle. “What did you do?”

He shrugged. “I threw some money at them and grabbed the kid and got out of there. Believe me, I don’t think we should go back. We’ve been wandering the streets ever since.” He sighed. “So now we have to find a new place to stay. Then I’ll send for our clothes.”

He threw some money at them. She nodded silently, thinking that was probably what he did with a lot of things. Got a problem? No big deal. Here’s some money so I don’t have to think about it anymore. Heaven help any woman who got involved with a man like this.

Not that she was in any danger of that. She was pretty sure she’d made it clear that she wasn’t responsive to him. He must have picked up on things she’d said and the way she’d said them. He couldn’t be so dense—or so egotistical—that he thought she would be interested.

He was trying to make a call again, then muttered something and swore softly. “So where the hell did they disappear to, anyway?” he said.

She frowned, then realized with a start that he was talking about Jeremy and Fabio. She hadn’t given them a thought for some time now. Silently, she scolded herself. Here she’d just been thinking about how dangerous it would be to care about a man like Adam, and the next thing she knew, he gave her raw evidence that she was letting his presence turn her head as it was.

“I’d better go take a look and see if I can find them,” he said, rising. “Be right back.”

She nodded but didn’t speak, glad for a moment to steady herself. But she only had seconds to do that, because her friend Gino arrived just as Adam left.

“Hey, Elena,” he said, slumping down into a chair beside her. “Isn’t that Adam Ryder?”

Elena’s head rose in surprise. “Yes. Do you know him?”

“No. But you seem to.” Gino didn’t sound pleased. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“I met him yesterday at the ruins.”

“Did you?” Gino cleared his throat thoughtfully. “You don’t realize who he is, do you?”

She went very still. “No. Tell me.”

He patted her hand as though she needed consoling.

“You’re not keeping up with the local news, my sweet. He’s the latest candidate they’ve brought in to audition for the job of King of Niroli. He’s the illegitimate son of the late crown prince, Antonio.”

CHAPTER THREE

ELENA gasped. Adam was Crown Prince Antonio’s son? Such a possibility hadn’t entered her mind. And he’d seemed like—what? Not an everyday, average guy. Not that. She’d sensed something edgier, more dangerous about him from the first. But hardly royal.

Still, why not? He had the insolence for royalty. No wonder she’d been instinctively wary of him from the beginning. The illegitimate son of Antonio. She could hardly believe it.

“He didn’t let on?” Gino asked.

“He gave no hint that I was aware of.”

“Hmm. Maybe he thinks he’s going incognito for now.” Gino grimaced. “Well, be careful, darling. Royalty aren’t like you and me. Even when they’re illegitimate.” He rose. “I’ve got to see a man about a painting. I’ll stop by and see you later.”

She nodded. “Don’t forget about tonight,” she reminded him, thinking of the small gathering of friends she was having that evening.

He bent to kiss her cheek. “I won’t let you down,” he said affectionately, then hurried off.

His words echoed in her mind and she shook her head to rid herself of them. She seemed, suddenly, to be clinging to any hint of protection as though she was expecting a major assault on her peace of mind very soon. This was no good and it wasn’t like her. Ever since she’d been very young she’d worked hard at being self-sufficient. The temptation was to relax and let others take care of her. It came with the territory and she had a very big excuse for doing exactly that. But she knew she would lose all self respect if she let that happen.

Still, this news that Adam was Antonio’s son was disturbing. Of all people for her to have run into at the ruins! She almost felt as though she’d stepped into a part of Nirolian history herself while visiting her ancestors.

The island had been in turmoil ever since the fateful day, two years before, when King Giorgio’s two sons, his only direct heirs, were killed in a yachting accident, along with one of their wives. Crown Prince Antonio had been particularly beloved by many factions in Niroli. It had been assumed he would soon be King himself, and his death had sent shock waves through every level of society.

The old king’s grief had been staggering and he had lost his will to govern. But when he had begun looking around at his grandchildren for a successor, he’d found that one after another they proved unsuitable or unwilling. Rumors had been flying that he was about to turn to an illegitimate child of Antonio’s, and now it seemed they were right on the money.

“But that is something I don’t want to get involved with,” she muttered to herself, and at the same time she heard Adam and the others coming back, and Fabio was suddenly there, rubbing against her leg.

To her consternation, Jeremy seemed to be sobbing.

“What have you done to him now?” she asked Adam fiercely, rising from her chair, all thoughts of his possible connection to royalty out the window.

“I haven’t done a thing,” he responded shortly. “He fell and scraped his knee before I found them. It’s bleeding. I’m going to have to find someone with a first-aid kit around here. Any ideas?”

She hesitated, but quickly realized something would have to be done. The man was one thing. She could be cold and dismissive to the man all day long if she felt like it. But the child was hurt and that was another matter. She couldn’t just leave him that way.

“Oh, bother!” she said, giving up on her self-imposed rule to keep Adam out of her house. “Come along, then.”

Grasping Fabio’s halter, she started off down the street. Behind her, she heard the man and the boy following. She could tell that Adam had swung Jeremy up into his arms and was carrying him. That mollified her somewhat. In fact, she was just a bit chagrined that she’d accused him of hurting his son. She would have to be careful about jumping to false conclusions in the future.

Future, her mind was screaming, trying to get her attention. What future? But she ignored it and hurried on.

“Where are we going?” Adam asked.

She held her head high. If it must be done, t’were best done quickly—and bravely, she told herself.

“To my house,” she said aloud.

“What? You live near here?”

“Just around the corner, actually.”

“Oh. Well, that’s handy.”

They turned the corner and Adam nodded to himself. This was just the sort of neighborhood he could picture her living in—quaint and traditional, yet neat and tidy and very well maintained. A sort of old-fashioned storybook lane. It fit.

What amazed him was how confidently she stepped along the walkway. She did have the dog to lead her, but a dog couldn’t do it all and she moved as though she wouldn’t allow herself a hint of uncertainty. His lopsided grin appeared almost against his will. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start admiring the woman for more than just her very provocative feminine appeal.

She turned in through a neat picket fence to a small white cottage that could have housed the Seven Dwarves. A brightly painted red door beckoned. Window-boxes spilling over with flowers and a small wishing well completed the picture.

Any moment, he thought, someone is going to start singing “Someday My Prince Will Come”, in the background.

And that thought almost made him laugh out loud. So he was doing prince jokes now.

But he sobered quickly. Every now and then he began to realize just what he was playing around with here. Much as he needed the funding to stave off the hostile takeover of his company, was he really willing to trade in his freedom for a crown? He was going to have to decide soon. He was rapidly working his way into a position where he wasn’t going to have any choice in the matter.

The inside of the cottage looked as carefully maintained as the outside. The furniture appeared to be antiques lovingly saved from centuries past. And as a centerpiece to the room, a beautiful piano gleamed in the light coming in from the high windows.

He put Jeremy, still sniffling a bit, on the couch while Elena went to a cupboard and found disinfectant and bandages. He watched her, trying to see how she knew where to stand and where to reach. So far he hadn’t caught her in a mistake, and that seemed remarkable.

She let him take care of the wound, which seemed to make sense, though he was clumsy at it. Jeremy whimpered a bit when he put on the disinfectant and she went to the piano and began playing him happy tunes to take his mind off it and lift his spirits.

Adam could tell right away that she played beautifully, with the sort of emotion that touched even hardened hearts like his. Jeremy was intrigued, and once he was bandaged up he wanted to go to the piano and sit beside Elena on the bench. She began teaching him a few simple notes and he was eager to try them.

Adam watched for awhile, impressed that she seemed to have a natural way with children—or with his child, at any rate. He’d watched others try to reach Jeremy—nannies and teachers—and bomb out, totally. In fact, he’d about come to the conclusion the kid was unreachable. But Elena treated him in a normal way and he seemed to like her for it. Maybe there was hope after all.

It wasn’t the way she acted, he decided after watching for a few more minutes. It was who she was that got through to the boy. They just had a spontaneous connection. Funny. He wished he knew a way to create that with his son himself.

He didn’t usually wallow in the pain of his failed relationships, but for just a moment he let regrets surface. Why was it that he couldn’t bond with his boy? Why had Melissa, Jeremy’s mother, found it impossible to stay and create a family with them? Why had his own mother spent most of his childhood flitting around the playgrounds of the world instead of being at home, raising him? Was there something in him that pushed all these people away?

He indulged in a short, very obscene oath under his breath to erase that kind of thinking. Life was what it was. You could take it or leave it. But there was no room for whining.

Pushing away from the wall where he’d been leaning, he left the room to go outside and try his cell phone again. It was his only lifeline to his precious company— the one part of his life that had worked out beautifully. He had to save his company from the takeover. After years as a golden boy in the business, he was facing a sort of failure, and suddenly no one was returning his calls. If something didn’t happen fast—as in funds becoming available for quick use—it was going to be all over. That was why this delay in settling the crown succession thing was so frustrating. Retaining control of his company meant retaining his sense of identity. The head of Ryder Productions was who he was and what made him special. If he lost that—no, it didn’t bear thinking of.

The phone still wasn’t working for him and he began to pace about the yard to let off steam. He quickly became curious about Elena’s property and what sort of trees she’d planted. The atmosphere was just as pleasant outside as in and, just wandering about, he began to relax. There was a small stone terrace with a table and two chairs under an umbrella and a bank of colorful flowers. A tiny house just steps away from the main building was outfitted with twin beds and a wardrobe. Evidently the building had once served as a garage, then been renovated. He stared at it, wondering who used it. Then he went back into the cottage to find Elena playing tunes from Peter and the Wolf and Jeremy dozing with his head in her lap.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the tranquil scene. It seemed like a picture from another era, another place, as though he were looking through time, and maybe through the gauze of memory. A certain yearning crept into his heart as he stood there.

Very deliberately, he pushed it away. What did this have to do with the rat-race world he lived in today? Nothing. It was certainly a seductive destination, but it was an existence built in the clouds. It had no relationship to his reality and he knew it would be dangerous to grow too enamored of it.

She came to the end of her piece and he said, “It looks like you’ve got the magic touch where Jeremy is concerned.”

Her dark head lifted. “He seems to be asleep, doesn’t he?”

“That he does. Who knew he would respond so well to Prokofiev?” he said.

“Ah, you know your composers,” she said, as though that delighted her.

He hated to burst her bubble, but he didn’t want to pretend to a sophistication he just didn’t have.

“Not really. I know the music to Peter and the Wolf because I just produced a series for an educational channel that did a treatment of it. The puppet version.”

“Oh.”

She actually looked a bit deflated. Why should she care if he knew classical music? It touched him, and at the same time it disturbed him that she felt that way. Was she looking for a connection? Did he want her to?

This woman and her contradictions baffled him. He was used to straightforward dealings with women. Either they attracted him or they didn’t. Either he hired them or he didn’t. Either he dated them or he didn’t. Elena Valerio didn’t fit into any of those slots.

“You produce films for television?” she asked as she closed the lid of the piano.

“Yes. Theatrical releases as well. I have a production company in Los Angeles. “

She nodded, her hand falling quietly onto Jeremy’s forehead, where she stroked the hair back off his face. Watching her was once again doing strange things to Adam’s emotions and he wasn’t sure why.

“Here,” he said gruffly. “I’ll put him on the couch.”

He transferred the boy quickly, trying to ignore her spicy scent as he bent close. Luckily, Jeremy didn’t stir a bit. Once he had him settled, he turned back to their lovely hostess.

“Your playing is wonderful,” he said, and, to his surprise, his genuine feeling was plain in his voice.

“Thank you.”

He noticed she didn’t bother with false modesty. He liked that. He was used to dealing with artists and other creative types and he understood her quiet confidence in her expertise. It was nice to know she had the artistry to back it up. Walking back into the central area of the room, he leaned against the piano.

“Is that your main talent?”

Something about the question made her turn. “Yes, actually.” Her smile was bitter-sweet. “Some would say it’s my only talent.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.” He said the words in all sincerity. He knew she must be good at a lot of other things. She came across as so competent. “Do you ever play professionally?”

She smiled, surprised and gratified by the question. Most people just assumed that because she was blind, she couldn’t possibly do anything professionally. She hesitated, toying with the urge to tell him about her acceptance at the New York School of Music Applications. But there wasn’t really any point in talking about it. Classes for the current session were only days away and she had no way to get there, much less to pay for living there once she arrived. It was a nice dream, but right now that was all it was.

“I teach music,” she said instead, leaving it at that. “That’s how I make my living.”

He nodded. Looking around the room, he had to conclude the living she made was minimal. Everything was clean and shiny, but a bit worn around the edges at the same time. His gaze drifted back to where she was sitting and he realized he could look at her at will—a sort of feast of the senses—without the usual need to pretend disinterest.

And she was lovely to look at. Today she was dressed in a sort of muted peach shade and the scarf braided in her hair was the color of pomegranates. He wondered briefly how she knew what color she was picking out. That sort of thing was so important to women. He hoped there was someone to help her choose.

This dress was loose and low-cut, displaying the upper swell of her breasts in a way that stirred the senses. He let his gaze slide over her, taking in the curve of her neck and the delicate cut of her collar-bone. Her skin was smooth and seemed to glow in the golden light. He wanted to touch her. And he knew she would kill him if he tried. In a metaphorical way, of course.

And that brought him back to something he’d been wondering about before—just what were her romantic entanglements?

“Do you live here alone?” he asked, glancing around the room and finding nothing particularly masculine in the entire scene.

She nodded.

“No partner? No relationship?”

She smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious. This island seems to have such a great atmosphere for lovers. I’d hate to think you were wasting it.”

She threw back her head and laughed out loud. “Oh, you are a devil, aren’t you? Actually, having lived here all my life, I’m pretty much immune to the romantic charms of the place.”

“So you say.” He studied her. “What’s your lover like, then?” He could hardly believe she didn’t have one.

“My lover? Ah-h-h.” She drew in a sensual breath and straightened her spine in a stretch, as though savoring the thought of him, and Adam winced. He didn’t need details. Actually, he’d been hoping she was between loves right now.

“My lover has strong arms,” she was saying wistfully, “sweet breath, a body like a Greek god. He can sing like an angel, but for nobody but me.” She flashed him a quick grin as though waking from a dream. “At least that was the way I imagined him when I was about fourteen.”

The sense of relief he felt was ridiculous. “So this isn’t a real guy?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s out there somewhere.”

He shook his head, enjoying her and not sure if he should be. “You’re a strange woman.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Different from what you’re used to?”

“Infinitely.”

“Brilliant. It will probably do you good to shake up your expectations a bit. Maybe you’ll get a better picture of what women are really like.”

“Play me something,” he said softly.

She slowly lifted the piano lid again and her hands went back to the keys, her fingers hitting a few notes softly, but her face was very still. “What would you like to hear?”

“Anything you’d like to play.”

She smiled and touched the keys, and in seconds music filled the room. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was gorgeous—full of fire and passion and a strain of sentimentality that grabbed hold of his heart and soul in a way he wasn’t expecting. Emotion grew inside him in response, almost making it hard to breathe. And another thing he hadn’t bargained for—watching her playing was arousing him in ways he didn’t remember having been aroused before.

But this wasn’t just the music—it was mostly the musician.

She hit the final crescendo and her shoulders sagged, as though the music that had filled her was spent. He waited as the sound slowly evaporated into the air of the room.

“Wow,” he said, in awe of her power. It was going to take a moment or two to let his senses stop reeling. “What was that?”

She shrugged, smiled and seemed to regain her strength quickly. “Just some Rachmaninov,” she said as though it were everyday stuff.

“You have a thing for the Russians?”

She laughed and it animated her whole body. Watching her, he was filled with a sudden need to take her into his arms and hold her close. This was more than desire, more than sexual hunger. What was it? A protective instinct? He shook his head. Where were these strange feelings coming from?

He reacted to women all the time—he knew what that felt like. But this was different. This included another component and he wasn’t sure he wanted to analyze it too closely.

“When it comes to music,” she was saying, starting to rise from the piano bench, “I plead guilty as charged.”

She moved gracefully and he watched her, much as he might watch a bird in flight, appreciating every move and wanting to see more. He had a hunch she would dance almost as beautifully as she played, if only she could feel secure enough in her surroundings.

She offered him a cool drink and he followed her into the kitchen, watching as she efficiently reached for the glasses, the ice, the bottles of flavored water, without missing a beat. The space was small and compact and she obviously knew where everything was. Still, her confident speed impressed him.

“Do you have everything memorized?” he asked her, then wondered if she would be offended at his bringing up her blindness.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he began clumsily, then stopped, realizing he was only making things worse.

She turned towards him, shaking her head and half laughing. “Let’s get one thing straight right now,” she said firmly. “I’m blind, Adam. B-L-I-N-D. Blind! Say it with me. Blind blind blind. I’m not ashamed of it. I’m not denying it. Everybody knows it. You can mention it. It’s the elephant in the room and there’s no use trying to pretend it isn’t there. People who do that tend to trip a lot.”

“You’re right of course,” he said, grinning at how charmingly she was attacking him. “From now on I’ll refer to you as that gorgeous blind chick. Okay?”

She put her head to the side. “Hmm. I rather like that.”

He wanted to kiss her so badly he could hardly stand it. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked her in all candor. “I mean, do you have any conception of how very attractive you are to … to …” He’d been about to say, “men” but he really meant, “me”.

She went motionless for a few seconds, then handed him his drink and turned her face toward his.

“Where’s Jeremy’s mother?” she asked frankly.

He recognized that question immediately for exactly what it was—a way to remind him that they weren’t laying the groundwork for a romance here. She just wasn’t interested, and especially not with a man whose current entanglements she didn’t have a clear picture of.

But instead of letting it put his back up, he realized she deserved an honest answer. And, leaning back against the kitchen counter, he decided that was exactly what he would give her.

“The woman who gave birth to my son is currently working her way through the casting couches of Hollywood,” he said with a certain bitterness. “We don’t refer to her as Jeremy’s mother. She’s never been a real mother to him. Right now Melissa is probably one big break away from becoming a household name. One big break or one spectacular scandal. Whichever comes first. We don’t ever see her.”

Elena was staggered by the tragedy of Jeremy’s situation, and by how calmly Adam laid out the facts, as though they were ordinary and needed no special regrets. “Are you married to her?”

“No.” He stirred the ice cubes in his glass and they clinked against the sides. “She was afraid a marriage license would tend to get in the way of her career.”

“But motherhood didn’t tie her down?”

“Not at all. She dumped it right away. Along with me.”

“I see.”

She had to admit that gave her new insight into this man’s character. If he was the sort of father who stepped up and took responsibility for a child whose mother had abandoned him, despite the fact that he obviously wasn’t particularly good with children, maybe he wasn’t as bad as she’d taken him for at first. Many men would have thrown up their hands and decided the child was surely someone else’s problem.

Still, she couldn’t let him know she was prepared to give him any credit. He was definitely a “give the man an inch, he’ll take a mile” type, and she wasn’t handing out inches right now.

“In other words, you picked the wrong woman to have a serious relationship with,” she noted, purposely playing devil’s advocate instead of a sympathizer.

He hesitated and took a sip of cool liquid before he answered. “I guess you could pin that on me. But I haven’t seen a lot of evidence that there are many women out there you can depend on. Every woman in my life has walked out in one way or another.”

Elena stiffened as though his words attacked her as well as the women he was referring to. “That’s a bit harsh. Are you trying to tell me you don’t know any decent women at all?”

His cynicism was raw and candid. “Let’s put it this way. We’re all human. We all have selfish motives. It just seems to me that women don’t admit it up front. They pretend to have higher ideals and then go right ahead and cheat. You can’t count on them.”

She threw up a hand. “You’ve been burned and you’ll never trust again. Yes, I’ve heard it before.”

“And you’ll hear it again. It’s based on truth.” He frowned and decided turnabout was fair play. “How about you?”

“Me?” She looked surprised at the question.

“Yes, you. You may be proudly blind, but I’m sure you have a love life, too.”

“A love life.” She laughed out loud at the term. “Sorry to disappoint you. I avoid heartbreak right up front. I don’t fall in love. Never have, never will. That makes me almost bulletproof.”

“What about your friend, the one who draws nudes?”

“Gino? He doesn’t date women.”

“Yes, you implied that before.”

“You see?” she said again with an impudent smile. “Bulletproof.”

She turned and walked off and he watched her go. He didn’t believe a word she’d said. She was at least in her mid-twenties and no woman that attractive could have avoided male attention that long.

Did that mean she was just like all the others—making up truth as she went along? He winced. And suddenly he realized he was fighting that concept. He didn’t want to think she was like that. In fact, he needed her to be better than that. So what kind of fool was he, anyway?

Draining his glass, he put it down on the counter and followed her back into the living room. She was at the piano lightly playing a soft tune, but she made room for him on the piano bench.

“I took a look at your backyard,” he told her. “It’s very nice.”

She nodded, smiling. “I like to work in the garden, but, of course, I do have some logistical problems. I have a friend who’s a landscaper. He comes by and does basic maintenance for me every now and then.”

He frowned. Another “he” friend, huh? And she claimed there was no love in her life. But that was really none of his business, was it?

“I noticed a little house out back. Who stays there?”

“Oh, that’s the guest house.” She lifted her fingers from the keys as she thought about it. “My grandmother had it fixed up for friends who came to stay. When you live in a place like Niroli, you get a lot of visitors.”

“So it’s ready to go.”

“Ready to go?” She looked wary. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s move-in ready. And I’d like to move in.”

“What?” The shock of that concept flashed through her. She could hardly think she’d heard him right.

“Jeremy and I need a place to stay. Your little guest house would be perfect.”

“No.” She was shaking her head vehemently. With every ounce of emotional strength, she felt herself rejecting the idea. “Oh, no. No, that won’t work.”

“Sure it will.”

Her heart was beating very fast. Her adrenaline was even flowing. Every part of her knew this was not an option. She could not have Adam Ryder living here with her for the duration. It just couldn’t be. She rose from the piano bench and backed away from where he still sat. Her hand went to her throat and flattened protectively.

“No,” she said with pure passion. “Don’t you see? That is absolutely impossible.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“IT CAN’T happen,” Elena insisted. “You don’t belong here. It’s impossible.”

Adam sat where he was on the piano bench and stared at her. He loved the way her entire body seemed to be consumed with whatever emotion she was feeling. It was almost as though the communications that might have been made by her eyes were instead made by every cell in her body. She was a symphony of the heart, a ballet of the soul. He felt as though he could watch her for ever.

Or at least until things got a little too intense. Watching her body language stirred some body response of his own. Physical communication. He’d never been more ready to try it—at least in theory. Because he knew very well that wasn’t going to happen. She was untouchable.

He wasn’t usually so attuned to the subtleties of life, especially where women were concerned. He worked in an industry that was rife with beautiful females, and many of them were readily available to an attractive man in his position. There was a temptation in that environment to use women like disposable toys. He’d been guilty of it a time or two himself.

But he’d known right away that Elena could never be a part of something so banal. And it wasn’t just because she was blind. There was more, an innocence to her, a purity of spirit that he knew he didn’t have the right to sully. She was sacrosanct. And for once in his life, he was going to honor that. Too bad he couldn’t think of any straightforward way to let her know that she didn’t have anything to worry about on that score.

“You’re not giving my idea a fair chance,” he told her. “We can make it work.” He shrugged, knowing he wasn’t being very persuasive but not sure how he could do better. “Think it over for awhile. Go over all the ramifications. Don’t let your first impulse rule your head. Take some time and—”

“I don’t need time to know that having you here just won’t work,” she said firmly. “You … you …”

When she couldn’t come up with the words, he tried to help. “I what? Bother you in some way?”

Her cheeks reddened so quickly, it was obvious she’d already been thinking along those lines.

“Okay, I promise to try hard not to bother you. In any way. We’ll be out there in the little house, quiet as mice. You’ll hardly know we’re there.”

He knew he was blowing smoke and so did she. She didn’t even bother arguing his points, turning on him with a new tact instead.

“Are you doing this just because you think the hotel is angry with you over the wedding-cake incident? I’m sure the money you gave them has gone a long way toward clearing that up. If you just go back and—”

“It’s not really that,” he told her earnestly. “That’s only part of it. There’s a lot more.” He hesitated. It was probably time to come clean. Maybe past time. “I … well, I really haven’t told you everything …”

“About how you’re supposed to be interviewing to become the next King of Niroli?” she interjected quickly, thinking he would never get to the crux of the matter if she waited for his halting explanation. And she needed this cleared up right away. He couldn’t stay here!

“So what? If you don’t like the hotel, why don’t you just go stay at the palace? I would have thought that would be where you would want to be anyway.”

“Not hardly,” he said, studying her with surprise. How had she figured out that he was in line for the crown? The news must be more widely known than he’d realized. And that was not good. It only emphasized how important it was for him to hide out someplace like this.

“How did you know?” he asked her curiously.

“Gino told me.”

“Ah, the ubiquitous Gino.” He was rapidly developing a firm dislike for the man. “He gets around a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Gino is one of my best friends,” she insisted sharply. “He knows more about what’s going on around town than most people do.”

“Good for him,” he replied dryly. “Then I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pass this on to him, but, as far as the palace goes, I’m in the bargaining phase right now. I don’t want to stay there because I need distance and a way to make them wonder if I’m really interested. You understand negotiation, don’t you?”

“You mean manipulation, don’t you?” she shot back, beginning to pace on the Persian carpet.

He grinned. “Okay. I’ll accept that word. But you can see why I don’t want to stay where the palace bureaucrats can keep tabs on me twenty-four hours a day.”

“Then try another hotel.”

“I don’t want a hotel. The press has already been nosing around. All I need is for the local paparazzi to start peeking in my window. I have to stay someplace where nobody knows my name.”

She stopped before him, almost pleading. “Adam, it’s a small island. You can’t hide here like you can in a big city.”

“I can lay low for a little while. Put off the inevitable. I’ll pay you well for the place.”

“Oh!” She went back to pacing. She didn’t want him here. She couldn’t have him here. She’d never wanted him in her house in the first place. And now he wanted to stay!

No. It was impossible. He was too big, too loud, too overwhelming. It had been bad enough having him hanging around all afternoon. She’d been on edge, unable to really relax. She couldn’t be like that for days at a time. This was her space. She didn’t want him in it.

The front door banged and Adam spun in surprise. A tall man with a hard, wiry build was coming into the house. Handsome in a self-conscious way, he looked tough and a bit petulant.

“Hello,” he said to Elena. “I just dropped by to let you know Devon and Martha can come tonight after all.”

“Oh, good,” she said distractedly, then waved a hand in Adam’s general direction. “Gino, meet Adam Ryder.”

Adam rose from the piano bench, ready to shake hands, but Elena’s friend didn’t seem to be in a handshaking mood.

“Oh.” Gino looked at Adam but he didn’t look pleased. “What’s he doing here?”

Elena threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

Adam had no problem providing an answer. “Right now I’m trying to get Elena to rent out her little guest house to me.”

Gino’s brows drew together menacingly. “Well, she’s not going to do that.”

Adam raised an eyebrow as a counter-measure. “Isn’t she?” he said quietly.

“No. Of course not. She can’t have you here.”

Elena turned, listening intently, her lips pressed tightly together.

“She won’t do it,” Gino went on confidently. “She doesn’t need you. Look, we know who you are.”

“Do you?”

“You’re Adam Ryder. You’ve got ties to the royal family.”

“You got me there. Not that it’s anything to brag about.”

“What? Our royal family isn’t good enough for you?”

The man was obviously ready to take anything he said as an affront. Adam smiled. “It’s a complicated situation,” he said calmly.

“Well, Elena doesn’t need that sort of complication in her life.”

Gino was glaring in a way that said he was used to being able to intimidate, but Adam held his gaze with a cool response in his own.

“I have no intention of complicating Elena’s life.”

“But you didn’t tell her who you were right away, did you? You were trying to keep it a secret. You’re not an honest man.”

Elena’s head rose at that and she stepped between them. “Gino, that’s enough. This is my decision, not yours.”

Gino’s anger made him reckless. “Elena, sometimes you just have to admit you could use some help.”

“Gino!”

He grabbed her hands and gazed down at her earnestly. “Look, I know you just lost half your income and you’re frantic to figure out how to replace it. Especially as you are trying to find a way to pay for attending that music program in New York.”

“That’s right,” she said tartly. “So you should understand.”

“But, darling, this is not the way to do it,” he said, pleading with her and at the same time making it clear that he expected her to do exactly what he suggested. “We’ll find a better way. I’ll sell a painting. Just give it some time.”

Adam waited quietly through this exchange. He’d seen her face while Gino was spouting off orders and he allowed himself a small smile. She didn’t like being told what to do, and she really didn’t like being told she needed someone to take care of her. There was still a chance here. All he had to do was wait Gino out and then play his cards right. He was a negotiation pro from way back. He knew how to do this.

“Elena, listen to reason. You can’t do it.” Gino looked as though he were about to stamp his foot.

But Elena was having none of it. She held her chin high and looked rebellious. “I’ll make that decision on my own.”

Gino gave an exasperated sigh and turned toward the door. “I’ve got no more time for chit-chat,” he said, sounding more than annoyed. “I’m due at the spa. I promised Natalia I’d give her some help decorating. She’s completely redoing some of the exercise rooms.” He glared back at Adam, his look purposefully ominous. “I’ll have to deal with all this later, including you,” he said in menacing tones.

And he was out the door.

Adam turned to grin at Elena. He knew she couldn’t see it, but she would surely hear it in his voice.

“When he says “deal with all this later”, what exactly is he talking about?” he asked her, tongue in cheek.

“Oh, pay him no mind,” she said in exasperation. “Gino has a flair for the dramatic. He’s mostly talk.”

“‘Mostly’, huh? It’s that little margin of doubt that tends to give one pause. The unknown factor is always the deadly one. So, just the same, I guess I’ll keep my guard up.”

He wasn’t really rattled by Gino’s implied threat. He’d faced down bigger men than Elena’s friend. Still, it didn’t hurt to add a little fuel to her resentment for being treated like someone who needed managing.

And he’d certainly taken in all that talk about how desperately she needed funds right now. He knew the feeling—though his financial needs were in a different league. Still, he had plenty of spare cash for the small needs of life.

It was on the tip of his tongue to promise her all the things he could do for her as King, but he stopped himself just in time. He had to be smart about this. The more he analyzed things, the more he realized she would hate something like that. He might as well just lay low. If he played his cards right, she would succumb in the end.

“How much?”

She stopped her pacing and inclined her head, looking like a swan considering possibilities. “How much what?”

“How much do you want to rent the room out? Here’s what I was thinking.” He named a price that made her gasp. “That’s twice what I’m paying at the Ritz.”

“For my crummy little room?” she cried.

He shrugged. “Well, you’ll also have to let me have the run of your house. After all, there’s no bathroom out there. And most of all …” he managed to add a note of tragic regret “.most of all, no kitchen.”

She shook her head and threw out her hands. A half-smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. “You long for a kitchen of your own, do you?” she murmured.

He smiled and nodded. “It’s handy for late night snacks.”

She repeated the sum in her head in wonder. Why, if he stayed long enough, she could pay her airfare to New York. Her shoulders sagged and a deep sigh went through her body. There had been a time when she’d considered herself a hard-headed realist. Now she was becoming a greedy little dreamer instead. Was she going to hate herself in the morning?

“You’re just like the serpent in the garden, aren’t you?”

His head went back. He wasn’t sure he liked her choice of analogy. “What are you talking about?”

“Temptation. You’re holding out a big fat juicy red apple my way.”

He supposed she was right. Still, it seemed an odd way of putting it … for her. “What do you care what color it is?” he asked softly.

“Oh, there’s a difference. Believe me. I can feel it.” She nodded. “It’s big and it’s red and it’s delicious. Will I break down and take a bite? That’s the question.”

There was something so sexy about the way she said that. He was glad—and not for the first time—that she couldn’t see what the images she conjured up did to him.

“Of course, the money is tempting.”

He shrugged. “Sure. Money makes the world go round.”

That put her back up quickly enough. “Well, money doesn’t make me go round. At least not usually.”

“Different motivations for different people. What about compassion? How about friendship?”

She gave him a scathing look. “You’re not my friend. I barely know you.”

“To know me is to love me, so don’t worry about that.”

She frowned and he regretted his flip attitude. She deserved better.

“You make the rules, Elena,” he said quickly. “Whatever you say goes. I promise you that.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m considering it,” she admitted. “But I do have one condition,” she added.

He stood poised, waiting. “What’s that?”

She took a deep breath, then said in a calm, steady voice, “I have to see you first.”

He went very still. Something was prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. “What are you talking about?”

“I have to ‘see’ you. Until I really see you, I won’t know you well enough to know if I can let you stay here or not.” Coming toward him, she pointed toward where a straight-backed chair stood. “Sit down.”

“What for?” He resisted, strangely apprehensive.

“Sit down and I’ll show you.”

He really didn’t want to do this. “Are you going to do that touching my face thing? Because I don’t really think that’s going to tell you anything. I mean—”

“Sit down.”

He glanced at his watch, then looked over at the couch where his son was sleeping soundly. “Listen, I’ve got to be at the palace in a little over an hour for a meeting and—”

“This won’t take long. Sit down.”

He hesitated, looking at her. She meant it. He wasn’t going to talk his way out of this. He sat down.

She came toward him with a purposeful air and suddenly his mouth went very dry. He hadn’t been this scared since … since the night Melissa went into labor with Jeremy. But he didn’t want to think about that.

He stared straight ahead and she stood next to him for a moment. He had the impression she was taking in the sense of him, and maybe his smell, but that was just a feeling. He couldn’t pin it down to any solid clues. And he felt like a fool with his heart beating a mile a minute. At this rate he was going to start to sweat and then he would really feel oafish when she touched him.

She was going to touch him. He was sure of that. And the wait was beginning to drive him over the edge. Come on, he wanted to yell. Touch me! Get it over with. She was standing so still …

And then her fingers were lightly touching his hair, just barely tracing the outline of his head, so softly it could have been butterfly wings. It was as though she were probing his aura rather than needing a solid tactile experience. He closed his eyes and his pulse slowed. This wasn’t so bad. He could stand this. In fact, it felt pretty good. Even when her fingers stiffened and began to rake back into the thickness of his hair, it wasn’t so bad. He’d had massages that had felt a lot like this. So far, so good.

And then she shifted her position, as though she wanted to get a better angle on her approach to him. He felt her move and he opened his eyes to find her sliding in between his knees and reaching out with both hands to take hold of his head.

And suddenly he was drowning in sensation. Her hands were moving lightly over his face, touching his eyebrows, running along the ridges of his eye sockets, flattening across the planes of his cheeks. And at the same time her full, peaked breasts, barely covered by low-cut, gauzy cloth, were inches from his face and the outer muscles of her legs were pressing against the incredibly sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. Desire shot through him like a lightning bolt and he was hard as a rock in seconds—and terrified that she would feel it.

He hadn’t felt so out of control since he was a teenager and he couldn’t let her know. He tried holding his breath, thinking about nursery rhymes, singing old songs in his head. Nothing worked. He was afraid she would notice and be disgusted with him. He didn’t want her to think he was all untamed male aggression. She was so clean and genuine. She deserved to be treated with respect.

“I’m almost done,” she whispered to him. “Just a moment more.”

Her small hands curled around his ears, then slid down to cup his jaw bone. He made a strangled sound, but she didn’t seem to notice. She leaned closer in order to touch the back of his head. One tiny move and he could have taken her right nipple into his mouth. The cloth that barely covered her seemed like gossamer now, cobwebs, almost invisible. He could see the nipple, see it tighten. All he had to do was reach out with his tongue …

Oh, God! He was about to explode. He was so hard, he was in pain and it took all his strength not to writhe with it.

Her finger touched his lips, tracing them softly, and he thought, Just let me die now. And then it was over.

“There,” she said, drawing back in a matter-of-fact way. “All done. Now was that so bad?”

He cleared his throat to cover the fact that he couldn’t speak just yet. “Uh … no, not at all,” he managed to croak out at last. Looking at her, he shook his head. How could one slender blind woman pack such a wallop? He didn’t think he would ever be the same again.

She dropped down to sit on the piano bench, facing where he still sat. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare to.

“You’re a very handsome man, aren’t you?” she said calmly.

He swallowed hard and tried to focus. “What makes you say that?”

“The evenness of your features.” She smiled. “And your cocky attitude. But that doesn’t matter, because I can’t see you the way other people do. What does matter is how beautiful your character is. Tell me about that, Adam. What kind of shape is your character in? What kind of a person are you?”

Her words might have been just the cold shower he needed. Talk about turning a pleasure into something painful. Contemplating his character was not something he did very often. Probably because he wasn’t sure he was going to like what he found there.

“My character has its ups and downs,” he said evasively. “But I can promise you this. I won’t do anything to hurt you while I’m here. I swear it.”

She sat quietly, mulling that over. She knew which way she was leaning but she forced herself to slow down and think it through. This man was planning to become King. That put him way out of her circle. He was one of the most cynical men she’d ever known. That should have put him even further out of her range. And finally, she found herself dangerously drawn to him—an attraction that had no future. All the elements for disaster were there. So that meant she was going to turn him down, didn’t it? Make him leave—never see him again. Save herself and her “bulletproof” love life. It was only logical.

But this was the new Elena she was dealing with, the woman who’d awakened from her sleepwalk and wanted to engage with the world. He needed a place to stay. She could certainly use the money. It was only logical.

He finally confronted her with the question of the hour.

“Well? Do I pass muster? Are you going to rent me a room?”

Slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she said almost regretfully. “Yes, Adam. I’m going to rent you a room. At least for a little while.”

Moving in didn’t take any time at all. Once the bargain had been made, Adam used Elena’s telephone to make a few calls and soon his things were brought over from the hotel. He transferred Jeremy from the couch to the second twin bed in the little house. And before she knew it he was off for the palace, and she sat down to catch her breath and mull over what she’d done—and whether she was likely to survive this experience as the same person she’d been up to now.

There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t have done it. When she actually let herself dwell on the possible results that could apply, her heart nearly stopped. Here she was, playing with fire again. The last thing in the world she needed was a man hanging around, making her crazy. What was wrong with her? Just that morning she’d tried to avoid speaking to him. Now she was preparing to practically live with him! She had to be crazy.

She knew Gino would be furious. “You’re not like a regular person,” he would fume. “You can’t risk things like this with a stranger.”

Gino was one of her very best friends and had been for years. In the past she’d always thought his watchfulness a bit touching. Now she began to realize it was becoming patronizing and overbearing. As sure as could be, he would make plans to sleep on her couch to protect her. She’d better think fast to be prepared with reasons why that would be impossible. She didn’t want him there— and she wasn’t going to think about why that might be.

Still, she knew he was probably right. She did need protection—from herself.

That thought made her laugh, and she knew it wasn’t really true. No, she wasn’t yet that crazy. But she had to admit she was intrigued with Adam.

When she’d told Adam she’d never been in love, she’d been telling the honest truth. Growing up, she’d had the same hopes and dreams as all girls had, but that had always been tempered by the knowledge that she couldn’t expect to have the same sort of life her friends had. She was different.

Her mother and grandmother, when they were alive, had both agreed that she was different, but they’d emphasized the fact that she was special, not strange. She’d always known she had an exceptional talent for music. It came naturally. Her grandmother had been a soloist in the Nirolian National Choir when she was young and her mother had worked as a music archivist for years. She’d always known, one way or another, music would be her life.

And that had given her the strength to shy away from romance all these years. When her grandmother urged her to date one of the many young men who pursued her, she would laugh and shake her head. “The man for me will be unique,” she would say. “I’ll know him when I hear his voice.”

Was she dreaming or merely making excuses to fend off the advice? As she looked back now that young woman seemed utterly naïve. What did she think—her ideal man would walk into her life and she would know it by the sound of his voice? That was indeed dreaming.

She hadn’t liked the sound of Adam’s voice at first. She’d thought he sounded conceited and arrogant, and she’d hated the way he talked to his son. Now that she knew him better, she’d modified her judgement. But he still was nowhere near being that wonder man she’d thought she was waiting for.

Still, she had to admit he was stirring feelings in her she hadn’t known she had. When she’d touched his face, she’d felt a sense of wonder she’d never felt before. She wanted to touch him again.

And she wanted him to touch her. And that was where the danger lay. Just thinking about it made her gasp. She was going to have to be very careful.

Especially since, much as he appealed to her on a personal level, she was having doubts about his mission here. She was beginning to wonder if she could really get behind the effort to make him King. She loved her island home and she wanted a good king. And preferably one who loved Niroli, too. She was noticing more and more evidence that Adam might not be that person.

His attitude was very disturbing. At first, she’d noticed him take a crack at her homeland here and there, but she’d attributed that to his generally cynical outlook. It wasn’t until he’d been just about to leave for the palace that she’d found him saying things that had really set her back on her heels. Had he really meant them? And could she overlook his attitude?

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