Cavelli's Lost Heir

Finally, she spoke. “Nico, I’m sorry that—”

The door opened and the housekeeper entered, interrupting whatever she’d been about to say. Nico didn’t look at her again.

“Please show our guest to her room,” he told the woman awaiting his instructions. “And send someone to clean up the broken glass.”

Signora Mazetti gave a short bow and waited for Lily to join her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily remove the jacket and place it carefully over the back of the settee closest to her. Then she followed the housekeeper without complaint.

Lily awoke to the sound of china and silverware delicately clinking together. She sat up, yawning, and blinked as she tried to take in her surroundings. Brocade curtains hung from a canopy and were drawn back to let light filter into the giant bed. For a moment, she thought she’d been upgraded to the best suite the hotel had—but then she remembered.

She was in the palace, in Prince Nico’s apartment. If you could call a wing of a royal palace an apartment. And she was as much a prisoner here as she’d been in the dungeon cell of the old fortress.

A woman in uniform stood off to one side, fussing with a tray. She turned and dropped a curtsy before coming forward and settling the tray laden with bone china and thick silverware across Lily’s lap.

“His Highness says you are to eat and dress, signorina. He wishes you to join him in precisely one hour.”

The woman curtsied again and slipped out the door, closing it behind her. Lily started to set the tray aside, but the scents of coffee and food wafted up to her, reminding her how hungry she was. She’d been unable to eat during the twenty-four hours she’d spent in prison. Last night, all she’d wanted was to shower and sleep—but now her stomach rumbled insistently.

She thought about tossing on her clothes and trying to find a phone—maybe she could call Carla and explain she was being held against her will. Or maybe she could call her boss and tell him she’d been kidnapped. She’d call the consulate herself except she couldn’t waste precious time looking for the phone number. Someone would help her, she was positive.

Her suitcase had arrived, but her laptop, cell phone and passport had not been returned, naturally. Nico had cut off not only her contact with the outside world, but also any chance of escape. But Lily Morgan did not give up so easily, damn him.

Her stomach growled so hard it hurt, and she had to acknowledge that if she didn’t eat something now she wouldn’t get very far. Lily wolfed down the fresh bread and thinly sliced meats and cheeses along with a soft-boiled egg and two cups of strong coffee with cream.

Half an hour later, after she’d showered again and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she tried the door. It was unlocked and she slipped into the corridor, looking right and left. Which direction had she come from last night? She couldn’t remember, so she started down the hall and tried doors. When she emerged into the living room where Nico had coldly informed her she would be his wife, she stumbled to a halt, a shocked “Oh” escaping her. With bright sunlight spearing through the windows and through the terrace doors, the room glittered with gold and colored glass mosaic.

She dragged her gaze from the opulence of the room and searched for a phone, finally finding it on an inlaid cherry-wood table beside one of the velvet couches. Lily snatched it from the cradle, not sure who she should call first.

“You have to go through the palace operator, I’m afraid.”

Lily jumped and slammed the phone back down. Nico stood across from her, a newspaper in one hand, a cup in the other. He was so tall and elegant. She didn’t usually think of men as elegant, but Nico was. Elegant, gorgeous and so masculine he shot her pulse through the stratosphere just looking at him.

He wore a dark gray suit that was clearly worth more money than she’d ever made in six months of work. The fabric looked beyond expensive, perfectly tailored. He also wore a crisp white shirt with no tie, and black loafers. A ruby signet ring glittered on his right hand.

“I want my phone back.”

“You will have a new phone, Lily. And many other things besides.” His gaze raked her from head to toe and she bit the inside of her lip. No doubt he saw a poor ragamuffin, a woman unfit to be a princess, and was disappointed. Well, by God, she was unfit to be a princess. Nor did she want to be one. She would never, ever fit in here. It was preposterous.

Lily thrust her chin in the air. “I’ve reconsidered your offer,” she said. “You can visit Danny whenever you like, and I will bring him to Montebianco often, but it’s impossible for me to marry you. We’ll just have to manage another way.”

“Manage?” He set the cup and paper down and came over to where she stood, looming above her. He seemed surprised—or maybe he was amused—but quickly masked it with his trademark arrogance. “You have misunderstood once again, Liliana. There was no offer. There is simply what will be.”

“You can’t possibly want to marry me,” she said softly, staring up at him with her heart thudding into her throat. Did he have to be so darn breathtaking?

“What I want is of no consequence.”

“It’s not what I want.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that two years ago.”

Lily blew out a breath. “I don’t think either of us was thinking much that night, were we?”

A muscle in Nico’s jaw ticked as he watched her. “Clearly not. But what about after, Lily? What about when you learned you were pregnant?”

She studied her clasped hands, suddenly unable to look at him. “I didn’t know who you really were.”

“But you found out. Why did you not contact me then?” His voice was controlled, as if he were struggling with his temper.

Lily put distance between them, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself. How could she tell him she’d been afraid? Afraid he would take her baby away and paradoxically afraid he’d be the kind of father she’d had growing up? Instead, she focused on the one truth that was easily explainable. “Assuming I could have figured out how to get past the layers between you and the public, would you have believed me?”

“Eventually.”

Lily bit back a bitter laugh. “Oh yes, how lovely that would have been.”

Nico sliced a hand through the air, as if cutting through their conversation. “None of this is important now. What is important is that you still had no plan to inform me. Had you not found yourself detained here, I would never know of our son’s existence, would I?”

“No,” Lily said quietly, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

Nico’s eyes hardened. “Trust me, cara, if there were another way, I would send you far from Montebianco and never see your deceitful face again. As it is, I think we shall have to make do with the situation, si?”

“I’m deceitful?” she said, her voice rising. “Me? What about you? Not only did you fail to tell me you were really a prince, but you also seem to have forgotten you were supposed to meet me in front of the cathedral—”

“I was called back to Montebianco unexpectedly,” he cut in, his voice rising to match hers. “I sent someone to inform you.”

“I didn’t get the message.”

His expression didn’t change. “You have only yourself to blame. When my man was unable to find you, I sent out inquiries. Had I known your real name was Margaret, I might have been able to contact you.”

Lily bit down on her bottom lip, surprised at how quickly she found herself on the verge of angry tears. She would not allow this man to affect her so strongly. Not now. It was too late to discuss what-ifs.

“I’ve always gone by my middle name. Why would I have told you my legal name as if you were a prospective employer or something? It simply didn’t occur to me.”

She shook her head. Wasn’t it just the story of her life to have something so vital hinge on something as simple as a legal name? “I don’t want to be unhappy. I don’t think you want to be unhappy, either. And if you force me to marry you, we will both be miserable. You have to see this is true, right?”

“It is too late for that,” he said harshly.

Lily tried to sound reasonable. “Why? You could still marry your princess and have children with her. And how can Danny be in line for the throne anyway? Don’t princes have to be born legitimate?”

Nico’s face was a stone mask. “In Montebianco, royal is royal.”

“I don’t want this for my child,” Lily insisted. “I want him to grow up normal.” The wealth frightened her. And not only Nico’s wealth, but the atmosphere he lived in. How could Danny be anything but spoiled rotten if he grew up here? How could he become a decent young man, and not a womanizing lothario like the prince standing before her? It terrified her, the thought her boy would be lost to her once he arrived. And that he would become the kind of man she despised most.

Oh God, how could she be tied to a playboy prince for life? Because no matter that she was the only woman he’d ever gotten pregnant—and it must be true considering the lengths he was going to in order to keep her here—he was still the worst sort of Casanova. Would she become just like her mother, desperate for one man’s affections and willing to put up with whatever he dished out just to be with him?

Worse, would Nico be a fair-weather father?

“He is our child, Lily. You have already tried to deprive him of his birthright with your selfishness.”

She blinked. Selfish? Was she? Was it possible?