A Night Of Royal Consequences

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

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

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

‘You’re going?’

‘Will you miss me?’

‘Only if I run out of nuts.’

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

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

‘I choose to be here.’

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

‘Signorina?’

He was waiting for her decision.

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

‘Enjoy your nuts—’

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

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

* * *

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

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

‘Am I so obvious?’

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

‘Do you know anything else about her?’

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

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

‘And?’ Marco prompted.

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

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

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

‘Financial controls?’ Marco guessed.

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

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

‘You’ve been checking up on her?’

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

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

‘That sounds like a warning.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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