Star-Crossed Sweethearts / Secret Prince, Instant Daddy!: Star-Crossed Sweethearts / Secret Prince, Instant Daddy!

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. You never said what made you decide to make Monta—” he caught himself before he finished the village’s name “—MC your final destination. It’s a speck on the map, you know.”

If she heard the derision in his tone, she didn’t comment on it. “That’s why it’s ideal.”

“Ah, that’s right. Hiding out.”

A line formed between her brows. “That makes me sound like a coward.”

“Sorry. I didn’t—”

“No.” She waved off the rest of his apology. “I guess I am hiding out. I just needed a place to go to recharge my batteries.” Her expression turned rueful. “Someplace where I wouldn’t have to deal with booing fans or the paparazzi at every turn. My stylist suggested the village. She visited it a few years ago. She was seeing a rather famous actor at the time and according to her they could go anywhere in town without worrying about drawing a crowd, much less paparazzi.”

Frowning, Angelo said, “It’s nothing like LA or New York, that’s for sure.”

“So, this isn’t your first visit?”

He shook his head.

“What’s it like?”

“It’s been a while, years in fact.”

Vague images of quaint, red-tile-roofed houses tucked into the side of a hill rose from his memory, accompanied by the scents of fresh basil, roasted red peppers and plum tomatoes. Angelo couldn’t be sure if they were real or the result of wishful thinking. As it was, nothing of his childhood in Boston evoked anything worth recalling.

“I looked it up on Google,” Atlanta was saying. “There’s not a lot of information, but I did find some photographs. It’s very picturesque and old-fashioned, like a snapshot out of the past.”

His past.

Her gaze shifted to his shoulder. Her expression held understanding. “Are you interested in dropping out of sight for a while, too?”

“Not exactly.” He took a deep breath before admitting, “My father lives there.”

Atlanta blinked, not quite able to hide her surprise.

“Yes, I have one of those,” he replied dryly.

“From the scowl on your face I gather the two of you aren’t close.”

“I haven’t seen him in thirty-five years.” And Angelo had no desire to see Luca now.

“Ouch. Sorry.”

He laughed outright as a cover for the pain he couldn’t admit to feeling. “It’s no big deal. I didn’t need him and I haven’t missed him. Hell, I barely remember him.”

“So, why are you going? If you don’t mind me asking,” she added.

He shrugged. The pain the gesture caused made him wince. “My brother booked my flight and my accommodations. Alex thinks that making peace with our father is important.”

“But you don’t share his opinion,” she guessed.

Angelo caught himself before he could shrug again. “It’s ancient history. What’s to be gained?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask,” Atlanta admitted. “I haven’t seen my mother in years. My choice.”

“You’re smart. The only reason my brother is all for a reunion now is that he’s met a woman and they’re getting married. He’s in love.”

“From your tone I’d take it you’re not a big fan of the emotion.”

“I’ve got nothing against love. I’m happy for my brother.”

How could Angelo not be? Allie, the woman Alex was marrying, was pretty, kind and intelligent. She had a daughter whom his brother obviously adored. Together they were a ready-made family. If that thought made him feel unbearably alone at times, it was his own problem. He’d get over it.

“Have you ever been in love yourself?” Atlanta asked.

“You’re a regular Oprah. So many questions,” he teased, stretching out his stiff legs. He hoped whatever accommodations Alex had arranged came with a jetted tub. He could do with a nice long soak.

“Sorry.” She ruined the apology by adding, “Well?”

“No. I like women in general too much to commit to any one in particular.” He sent Atlanta a wolfish smile that caused her to roll her sky-blue eyes.

“Gee, that’s romantic,” she said dryly.

“No, that’s realistic. I could say something cliché like I haven’t met the right woman, but I don’t think the right woman exists.”

“Your brother apparently disagrees.”

Angelo held up a finger. “Let me clarify. I don’t believe the right woman exists for me.” It was a long-held belief, one that predated puberty. Commitment? His parents had gone that route and look how it had turned out. They hadn’t been able to keep the promises they made to one another, let alone to the children they’d brought into the world. He grinned wickedly to banish the old bitterness, hiding behind the cockiness that was as much his trademark as Atlanta’s bombshell looks were hers. “But if she did exist, she’d be blonde, about your height and have ridiculously long legs.”

Atlanta crossed her arms and sent him a pointed look. “Do lines like that actually work for you?”

“Apparently not,” he replied with feigned disappointment.

She shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I know. A judge told me that very thing before sending me off to juvie when I was a kid.” He said it lightly, though nothing about the incident could be considered fun or funny. Before she could comment he said, “I won’t bother to ask if you’ve ever been in love. You lived with that Zeke guy for—what?—a decade?”

“Something like that,” she murmured. Her gaze strayed to the window.

“But no ring?” he prodded.

“Not the kind you’re talking about.”

Curious, he asked, “What other kind is there?”

It sounded as if she said, “Through the nose,” but he couldn’t be sure.

“I find it hard to believe he didn’t propose. If I were the sort of guy interested in lifelong commitments, I’d have been on bended knee after our first date.”