CAROL MARINELLI - The Royal House of Niroli - Billion Dollar Bargains - Bought by the Billionaire Prince / The Tycoon's Princess Bride

‘I don’t need to be walked back,’ Meg declined, but Luca begged to differ.

‘Your friend appears to be busy and those men are no doubt still downstairs. It would be better if I walk you back to your room.’

If it had been anyone else offering it would have made sense. Meg had no desire to run into that group again, but neither did she want to walk with Luca. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—not for a minute did she imagine him forcing himself on her as that creepy businessman had before—but he had made his intentions exceptionally clear and so now must she.

‘Thank you for the offer, Mr Fierezza, I mean, Signor Fierezza, but I’d prefer—’

‘Luca,’ he interrupted.

‘I’d rather keep things formal,’ Meg said crisply back, but she couldn’t look at him, instead staring down at the ground, ready to turn on her heel and walk off.

‘Well, in that case, my correct title is: His Royal Highness Prince Luca of Niroli.’

As her startled eyes shot up to his, despite the twist of a smile on Luca’s lips at her reaction, she knew in an instant he was speaking the truth. Antoinette hadn’t got her words mixed up, those cufflinks he was wearing, Meg realised in a flash, were actually the Niroli coat of arms she’d seen in her guide book, but it wasn’t just that that convinced her, it was his sheer arrogance, the absolute confident way he carried himself—which told her he would never stoop to lying to impress a woman.

‘There will be no discussion. I will walk you back to your room.’ His hand touched her elbow and she practically shot into orbit at the contact, any argument fading on her lips as he guided her to the opening door.

‘Oh, and Meg …’ as the elevator glided open, as he declined the escort from his bodyguard, Luca managed to elicit a smile from her shocked lips ‘.you can call me Prince for short.’

As they walked through the casino, his hand still on her elbow, Meg’s mind was whirring. They made their way swiftly—he didn’t need to guide her through the throng of people because they all stepped back for him, heads turning, couples nudging each other as they passed, and Meg started to understand what he had been trying to tell her. A prince couldn’t date in the usual way, couldn’t walk into a bar unrecognised or linger over a coffee as he got to know a virtual stranger, and those thoughts were confirmed when finally they left the crowds behind and walked the long corridor to her room. ‘You didn’t know?’

‘No,’ Meg admitted. “Antoinette, the kitchen hand, did say something, but I thought she was.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘Shouldn’t you be locked away in a palace or something, with bodyguards protecting you?’

‘I should be according to my grandfather—the king,’ he added as Meg blew a breath skywards, the entire conversation so bizarre she couldn’t believe it was taking place. ‘But it is not how I choose to live; I like to work—to run my businesses. Here I get a shot of a normal life.’

‘Normal!’ Meg gave a wry grin. ‘Even before I heard your title, Luca, you didn’t fit into that description.’

‘I have a comfortable life—but I work hard for it. Yes, I can afford many things, and maybe I could just live off my title, but I still take pride in my work, my business ventures—that is why I mainly choose not to use my title, why here I prefer to be called just Luca, though naturally most people know who I am.’

They were at her door now and Meg wished they weren’t, wished somehow she were staying in some remote cottage at the end of a very long beach, instead of a shared room a mere ten minutes away.

She didn’t want the night to end—even though she’d terminated it, now she wanted to prolong it and it had nothing to do with his royal title, more the fascinating man behind it, the man she was starting to glimpse.

‘Thank you,’ Meg said simply.

‘For what?’

‘For coming over when you did. Things could have got out of hand otherwise.’

‘You have to be careful, Meg. Your friend is not much of an escort for you.’

‘I don’t need an escort,’ Meg answered stoutly, but Luca remained unmoved, shaking his head at her proud words.

‘Tonight things could have been very different—I see a lot of things that go on. Buy your own drinks, Meg, and hold onto your glass. Don’t let it out of your sight.’

‘You sound like my father.’ Meg rolled her eyes as she chatted. ‘When I say my father, I mean my adopted father. I had all the lectures before I set off on my trip—’

Her voice halted abruptly; she was stunned at her own words, at how easily she’d revealed a piece of herself to Luca. She’d been with Jasmine for weeks yet she had never revealed this, yet here she was, an hour into Luca’s company, and she was opening up like a flower in the sun with him. But Luca didn’t seem to notice the revelation, just carried on the conversation where she had so hastily left it.

‘I would not like to be your father.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I am sure the man must never rest, worrying about his beautiful daughter.’ He’d called her beautiful and instead of flinching or refusing to take the compliment she absorbed it, even felt a little bit beautiful. Luca stared thoughtfully back at her. ‘You’re not going to come tomorrow?’ When she shook her head he pushed for a reason. ‘Can I ask why?’

She paused for a moment before answering, wondered how on earth she could explain that, though she wanted to, though she was more attracted to him than she’d ever been to anyone , it was just too dangerous, too damned scary to let him into her life. ‘I don’t want to complicate my life; the reason I’m travelling is that I’m actually trying to sort a few things out….’ Meg answered as honestly as she could without telling him her painful truth. ‘And, somehow, I don’t think spending time with you is going to help me achieve that.’

‘It might.’

‘I doubt it.’ Meg gave a rueful smile. How could a holiday romance with a royal prince possibly help her find the peace she craved? But never had she been more tempted to relent, the rigid self-discipline she usually lived by treacherously displaced by his presence. ‘It’s been nice meeting you, Luca.’

‘May I kiss you goodbye?’

She’d been about to shake her head, to refuse his request for a kiss goodnight, but his choice of words had her hesitating. It really was goodbye.

A chance encounter that would never in her life be repeated—men like Luca didn’t come around twice in a lifetime—and Meg bit down on her lip, torn between fear and want, sensing the danger yet lusciously curious.

‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ Meg breathed, her hormones weeping in protest as she denied them the goodies that were clearly on offer as her mind scrambled to regain control. ‘Anyway, I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.’ He was watching her mouth as she spoke, as she attempted a joke, attempted to delay the inevitable. ‘We’re supposed to kiss and then you turn into a prince!’

‘For you, maybe there is better.’ His hand was on her cheek, his thumb playing with her lower lip. ‘You deserve better,’ Luca elaborated. ‘Maybe your kiss would make me a king.’

She didn’t know if he was joking, didn’t know if it was just a light-hearted response, and frankly she didn’t care—Luca was as skilled at flirting as he was at manipulating. His mouth was just inches away, teasing her with his breath as he spoke, honing in on her distraction, asking for something only moments ago she wouldn’t have considered.

‘Don’t go to Mont Avellana tomorrow—spend the day with me instead.’