Carol Marinelli - The Royal House of Niroli - Billion Dollar Bargains

‘Meg, are you okay?’ It was such a relief to hear English, her determination not to look at him, not to talk to him, weakened a touch, but she held on—still, even at this eleventh hour, trusting that order would prevail, that a lawyer, an official, someone would come and sort out this chaos.

‘Meg, talk to me,’ Luca insisted. ‘I can help you.’

Her top lip sneered in disgust and somehow Luca knew she wasn’t going to accept his offer of help, that, even if she was the guilty one, somehow it was he, Luca, she mistrusted. ‘Aqua,’ Luca snapped to the guard, thinking on his feet, trying somehow to get her to realise that he was on her side. He barked orders in Italian to the guard, demanding he get food and something to clean up Meg’s face with. Only when they were alone did he approach Meg, but she recoiled as if he were poison and with supreme effort he halted, stifling the instinct to take her in his arms and soothe her. ‘Meg …’ He stared at the paltry room, took in the upturned meal on the floor and struggled to find what to say, how to reach her. ‘You should eat something….’

‘I’d rather starve than eat what they bring me.’ Even if it was laced with venom, at least she was talking, Luca conceded.

‘You could be here for some time—you should change out of these dirty clothes, get some sleep. You need to eat—’

‘Why?’ Angry, defensive eyes turned to him. ‘Why should I wear their clothes or sleep or eat at their command when I have done nothing wrong? Anyway, what is it to you? What exactly are you here for, Luca?’

‘As I said, I am here to help you.’

He thought she might spit at him—her face was so sour with contempt she was barely recognisable.

‘More likely, you’re here to make sure that your handiwork has been carried out properly. Well, as you can see, it has been. Is this what happens when you refuse to sleep with the prince of Niroli?’

‘It has nothing to do with that!’ The guard was back and, taking the bowl of water and cloths he’d brought with him, Luca dismissed him, leading her to the bed where she reluctantly sat, examining the small cut in her eyebrow. ‘I will clean your face. It is dirty in this cell—the wound will get infected.’

‘I’ll clean it,’ Meg snarled, but he didn’t listen, just calmly dipped the fabric into the water and bathed her wounds as the first sting of tears since her arrest reached her eyes. His hand was so supremely gentle, so tender, she couldn’t help but compare it to the treatment the guards had given earlier, and for a second it was just easier somehow to let him help, to close her eyes as gently he removed the dried blood and dirt before pulling out of his pocket a heavy silk handkerchief and telling her to press it to her face.

‘You will need a stitch or two. Do you know if the guard has arranged a doctor?’

‘I’m sure that he has it on his list of people to call for me.’

Her sarcasm wasn’t wasted on Luca, his eyes shuttering closed for a moment and she hoped it was in guilt, guilt for what he had done to her, but in that second he changed, his demeanour shifting from tender to practical.

‘You stole from me, Meg—I saw the evidence myself. I had no choice but to call the police. You are here because you are a thief. Now we have to work out what to do with you.’

‘Do with me?’ Meg gave an incredulous laugh. ‘And what the hell do you mean that I stole from you?’

‘I’ve seen the evidence, Meg.’

‘How?’ She balled her fists to her temples in an attempt to calm down, the whole thing getting more ludicrous by the moment. She’d realised the guards thought her a common thief, that much she understood, but hearing it from Luca, realising he thought that of her, was almost more than she could take. ‘How could you have seen something when it didn’t even happen?’

‘The jewels that were found in your bag are the Niroli family jewels, so, yes, you stole from me. Why you would do such a thing I do not know. Whatever trouble you are in I will try to help, try to understand, but it is imperative—’

‘Luca—I am not a thief,’ Meg broke in. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I want is a lawyer, someone to ring the embassy so that this mess can be sorted. I’ve never stolen a single thing in my life.’

It was like rewinding his life—watching the woman he adored furiously denying what he had witnessed—only this time he wouldn’t back down. He was a man now—not a confused child. He was a royal prince and he would not be lied to, would not just choose to believe her because it was easier to.

‘Don’t lie to me!’ His words were a roar, his six-foot-two frame jumping from the bed and towering over her. She was so convincing, so utterly, utterly convincing that if he hadn’t seen the evidence himself, he’d have believed her—wanted to believe her—wanted to be taken in by this vixen’s lies.

‘I will not be lied to,’ Luca repeated, but more calmly this time, speaking to her now as he would any of his staff that had overstepped the mark and needed to be pulled swiftly back into line. ‘I am here to try to help you, but how can I do that when still you lie to me? I saw it with my own eyes, Meg. I saw you taking the jewels from the display—they were found in your backpack, wrapped in the top you were wearing last night.’ On and on he went, each word damning her, each word confusing her further, because he clearly believed them, and all Meg knew was that it was imperative that Luca believe in her.

‘I don’t know what you saw or what you’ve been told, but you’re mistaken.’ She stared right at him as she spoke. ‘If you can’t or won’t believe me, then can you please just call a lawyer or the embassy for me in the morning?’

‘It’s Saturday tomorrow,’ Luca pointed out, ‘and it is a long weekend for the Feast—there can be no officials contacted till Tuesday, perhaps even Wednesday.’

‘Then can you please try and get hold of my brother for me …?’ Meg gulped back tears, her voice wobbling with fear as she realised that this nightmare wasn’t anywhere near over and, though she was loath to ask Luca for any assistance, it was infinitely preferable to staying here. ‘His name’s Alex Hunter. He was working at the hospital—’

‘Alessandro Fierezza is on his honeymoon,’ Luca interrupted, ‘on his way back to Australia. Alessandro is not going to be able to help you now.’

‘Alessandro?’ Meg gave a bewildered shake of her head. ‘I don’t know any Alessandro. I’m asking you to find my brother—’

‘My cousin,’ Luca brutally cut in, taking no pleasure as her proud face literally crumpled before his eyes, but his face remained impassive. He knew she needed him to be strong, that this fiery, independent woman wouldn’t take a grain of his sympathy. ‘Your brother is my cousin—get it? Alessandro is a royal prince—’

‘No!’ It didn’t make sense, nothing today made any sense. Alex was a doctor, her brother, the most honourable man she knew, if he’d had news this big he’d have told her himself, face to face….

He’d wanted to.

The truth, however unpalatable, was starting to sink in. Alex had said the news was huge; could this have been it? Like Meg, Alex had been adopted, only at a much younger age, so his past was vague, but he was of Italian descent and the receptionist at the hospital had used the same name Luca was using now—Alessandro Fierezza.

Burying her face in her hands, Meg struggled for control, tried to glimpse some way out of this hellish mess. Drunken, loud voices were coming from upstairs, the tiny cells starting to fill with undesirables, and she was trapped here till God knew when….