Rebecca Winters: Expecting the Prince's Baby

Her arched brows lifted. “You’d be bored to tears.”

“Try me.” Nothing about Abby bored him.

She reached in one of the folders on her desk and handed him a printout on the case, which he perused.

As has been stated, major constraint to import into Arancia is nothing more than bureaucracy. Import certificates can take up to eight months to be released, and in some cases are not released at all. However, if the procedure is simplified, an increase of imports could particularly benefit Arancia, providing high-value high-season products.

That made even more sense to Vincenzo since talking to important exporters on his trip.

At present, the hyper/supermarket chains do not operate directly on the import market, but use the main wholesalers of oranges and lemons as intermediaries. Signor Giordano, representing the retailers, has entered the import market, thus changing some long-established import partnerships. He’s following a different strategy, based on higher competition, initial entry fees and spot purchases, thus bringing more revenue to Arancia.

Vincenzo knew instinctively that Signor Giordano was really on to something.

Signor Masala, representing the importers, is trying to block this new initiative. He has favored cooperative producers and established medium-to long-term contracts, without requiring any entry fee. The figures included in this brief show a clear difference in revenue, favoring Signor Giordano’s plan.

I’m filing this brief to the court to demonstrate that these high-quality products for fast-track approval would benefit the economy and unfortunately are not unavailable in the country at the present time.

Vincenzo handed her back the paper. Her knowledge and grasp of their country’s economic problems impressed him no end. He cocked his head. “Giuseppe Masala has a following and is known as a hard hitter on the trade commission.”

Abby’s brows met in a delicate frown. “Obviously he’s from the old school. Signor Giordano’s ideas are new and innovative. He’s worked up statistics that show Arancia could increase its imports of fuel, motor vehicles, raw materials, chemicals, electronic devices and food by a big margin. His chart with historical data proves his ideas will work.

“I’d like to see him get his fast-track idea passed, but the lobby against it is powerful. Signor Masala’s attorney is stalling to get back to me with an answer.”

She had him fascinated. “So what’s your next strategy?”

Abby put the paper back in the folder. “I’m taking him to court to show cause. But the docket is full and it could be awhile.”

“Who’s the judge?”

“Mascotti.”

The judge was a good friend of Vincenzo’s father. Keeping that in mind, he said, “Go on fighting the good fight, Abby. I have faith in you and know you’ll get there.”

“Your optimism means a lot to me.”

She was friendly, yet kept their relationship at a professional distance the way she’d always done. To his dismay he discovered he wanted more, in different surroundings where they could be casual and spend time talking together like they used to. Her suite wasn’t the right place.

Her bodyguard already knew he’d stopped by to see her and would know how long he stayed. He wanted to trust Angelina, but you never knew who your enemies were. Vincenzo’s father had taught him that early on. So it was back to the business at hand. “The doctor’s office faxed me a schedule of your appointments. I understand you’re due for your eight weeks’ checkup on Friday, May 1.” She nodded. “I plan to join you at the clinic and have arranged for us to meet with the psychologist for our first session afterward.”

“You mean you’ll have time?” She looked surprised.

“I’ve done a lot of business since we last saw each other and have reported in to the king. At this juncture I’m due some time off and am ready to get serious about my duties as a father-in-waiting.”

Laughter bubbled out of her. “You’re very funny at times, Vincenzo.”

No one had ever accused him of that except Abby. He hated bringing the fun to an end, but he needed to discuss more serious matters with her that couldn’t be put off before he left.

“Your mention of the funeral reminds me of how compassionate you are, and how much you cared for Michelina. I’ve wanted to tell you why we decided against your attending the funeral.”

She moistened her lips nervously. “My father already explained. Naturally, none of us wanted the slightest hint of gossip to mar your life in any way. Just between us, let me tell you how much I liked and admired Michelina. I’ve missed my daily talks with her and mourn her loss.”

He felt her sincerity. “She cared for you, too.”

“I—I wish there’d been a way to take your pain away—” her voice faltered “—but there wasn’t. Only time can heal those wounds.”

“Which is something you know all about, after losing your mother.”

“I’ll admit it was a bad time for Dad and me, but we got through it. There’s no burning pain anymore.”

When he’d seen Carlo Loretto’s agony after losing his wife, Vincenzo had come to realize how lucky they’d been to know real love. Abby had grown up knowing her parents had been lovers in the true sense of the word. Obviously she could be forgiven for believing he and Michelina had that kind of marriage. A marriage that had physically ended at the very moment there was new hope for them.

“Did your father explain why I haven’t phoned you in all these weeks?”

“Yes. Though you and Michelina had told me we could call each other back and forth if problems arose, Dad and I talked about that too. We decided it will be better if you and I always go through your personal assistant, Marcello.”

“As do I.”

It would definitely be better, Vincenzo mused. She understood everything. With Michelina gone, no unexplained private calls to him from Abby meant no calls to be traced by someone out to stir up trouble. They’d entered forbidden territory after going through with the surrogacy.

Vincenzo had to hope the gossip mill within the palace wouldn’t get to the point that he could no longer trust in the staff’s loyalty. But he knew it had happened in every royal house, no matter the measures taken, and so did she.

“I mustn’t keep you, but before I go, I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Michelina’s mother and brothers flew in for the festival.” It was an excuse for what the queen really wanted. “She would like to meet with you and me in the state drawing room at nine in the morning.”

His concern over having to meet with his mother-in-law had less to do with the argument Michelina and the queen had gotten into before the fatal accident, and much more to do with the fact that he hadn’t been able to love her daughter the way she’d loved him. He was filled with guilt and dreaded this audience for Abby’s sake. But his mother-in-law had to be faced, and she had refused to be put off. “Your father will clear it with your boss so he’ll understand why you’ll be a little late for work.”

“That’s fine.”

It wouldn’t be fine, but he would be in the room to protect her. “Then I’ll say good-night.”

She nodded. “Welcome home, Vincenzo, and buonanotte.” Another smile broke out on her lovely face.

“Sogni d’oro.”

CHAPTER TWO

THE PRINCE’S FINAL words, “sweet dreams,” stayed with her all night. Seeing him again had caused an adrenaline rush she couldn’t shut off. She awakened earlier than usual to get ready, knowing Michelina’s mother would ask a lot of questions.

Abby always dressed up for work. Since the law firm of Faustino, Ruggeri, Duomo and Tonelli catered to a higher-class clientele, Signor Faustino, the senior partner, had impressed upon her and everyone else who worked there the need to look fashionable. Though her heart wasn’t in it this morning, she took her antinausea pill with breakfast, then forced herself to go through the motions.