Rebecca Winters - Bride Fit for a Prince

He didn’t like her.

She’d sensed that instinctively, yet she couldn’t blame him. Any woman who would be a part of a benefit in order to sell her body to an unknown prince deserved the world’s scorn.

On the other hand, any man who would work for a prince who had no morals was equally despicable.

“Let’s just say that by answering my question with a question, you’ve come off sounding positively Machiavellian. But then I shouldn’t be surprised. You did say your name was Niccolo. The master of cunning. A throwback to your ancient ancestor perhaps?”

For a split second his eyes glittered with some unnamed emotion that sent a dart of fear coursing through her nervous system.

“The prince will be impressed with your knowledge of Italian political history, signorina. It seems there are depths to you yet to be plumbed. Shall we get your bags?”

“I didn’t bring any.”

“Of course not,” he murmured in a silky voice. “A princess-to-be must have an entirely new wardrobe from the skin out.” He slid an index finger down her cheek. “Yours feels like velvet. No wonder Prince Enzo couldn’t resist you.”

“Is that one of your jobs? To inspect the royal merchandise?” she snapped to cover the shock wave that had just passed through her body.

“Call it a lapse I couldn’t resist. It won’t happen again. Now that you’re his fiancée, the prince won’t allow another man to touch you on pain of death.”

She flashed him an icy smile. “How feudal of your master to send you ahead to discover my fatal flaw. I’ll warn you now. I have several of them.”

A sardonic gleam entered his eyes. “I hadn’t thought to enjoy my mission this much. Except for the wedding dress which I understand was purchased some time ago, the prince told me to accommodate your every desire.

“As soon as we leave the airport, it will be my pleasure to take you shopping for your royal trousseau. Along the arcade of the Via Roma you will find our country’s most fashionable couturier salons,” he whispered in a husky tone, giving her voluptuous body a slow, frank appraisal.

Considering she was in jeans and a knit top that was several years old, the look he’d just given her was meant to be insulting. The sparring had gone on long enough.

“You won’t be taking me any place because I have no need of a new wardrobe,” she blurted with as much hauteur as she could summon.

“Then you truly are a dream come true, signorina. I will let the prince know you intend to keep him happy in the marriage bed for the entire thirty days and nights.”

“Careful, Niccolo—your true colors are showing,” she bit out as white-hot heat consumed her.

“If your lack of concern about clothes is one of the fatal flaws you were referring to, then I admit I’m looking forward to ferreting out the rest of them.”

Anxious to wipe the gloating expression from his eyes she said, “Will you please give this to the prince for me?”

Callie reached in her bag that contained her toiletries along with a change of underwear, and handed him the velvet lined box. It held the betrothal ring. After opening the lid, he trapped her hand.

“Do you know this ring dates from the early sixteenth century when the House of Piemonte and the House of Monferrato formed a valuable alliance through marriage?”

To her shock he slid it on her ring finger. After studying it he said, “I wondered why you weren’t wearing it. Now I have my answer.

“Though it’s the most valuable of the collection in terms of the Tescotti family history, I can see how this heavy gold piece doesn’t suit your delicate hand. I’ll tell his highness to pick out something more modern from the family jewels.”

At the moment, her hands were covered in a rash from washing and scrubbing them so much before surgery. She’d tried every cream in existence, but they still itched and had blotchy spots he rubbed several times. Callie pulled her hand away, shaken by his touch which had arced through her body like a current of electricity.

Pulling off the ring, she put it back in the box and shoved it at him. “I have something else you can give the prince.” Once more she reached in her bag and handed him the envelope with the check inside.

He opened it. “Ten thousand dollars. To my knowledge, the prince had no expectations of a wedding present from you. However I’m aware of something he would like, and this is the exact amount to cover it.” His eyes flashed black fire. “You’re going to make him the happiest man alive.”

Putting both items in his pockets, he cupped her elbow. “It’s a beautiful fall afternoon. Since you don’t require any clothes, I thought you might like a ride around the city to relax you. It’s only fitting that you survey your kingdom before the wedding tomorrow. Shall we get started?”

Callie jerked her arm away. “I’m not going anywhere with you and that money isn’t a wedding gift.”

He stared at her through veiled eyes. “You’re trembling. But surely there is no reason to be afraid of me. This close to the ceremony, I have sworn a sacred oath to protect you with my life. In fact I am the only person in the world who has Prince Enzo’s complete trust.”

“Then you need to let him know there isn’t going to be a wedding.”

His white smile was condescending. “I thought only the groom had what you Americans call pre-wedding jitters. You are turning out to be a surprise in so many ways, I find myself utterly captivated.”

“Look, Nicco whoever-you-are—I’m going to be honest with you.”

“You mean you haven’t been up to now?”

Callie forced herself to count to ten. “I’ve been trying to tell you something. Before you jump to any more wrong conclusions, you need to hear me out. I’m not the woman his highness picked to marry.”

The amusement in his eyes maddened her. He pulled a photograph out of his back pocket. “Then who is this?”

The picture he held up was obviously the photograph Ann had sent in with the application.

Smothering a groan she said, “I know it looks like me. That’s because I’m Ann’s twin sister, Callie.”

“Callie.” He mouthed her name. In the next breath he’d relieved her of her shoulder bag and pulled out her passport. He opened it and placed the picture next to the passport photo. “According to this, your name is Callie Ann Lassiter.”

“Yes, I know. My sister is named Annabelle, but she goes by Ann. Our father wanted both of us to have our mother’s name.”

His lips twitched. “That’s quite a lie you’ve dreamed up. Obviously you’re frightened of this step you’re about to take. For an aspiring Hollywood actress, who would have guessed it?”

She’d had enough of his barely veiled mockery. Taking a deep breath she said, “You mistake my fright for frustration. It’s because you won’t listen to me. I’m going to try this one more time. I’m not the prince’s intended!”

As if it were his divine right, he unsnapped the strap of her wallet and looked at her driver’s license.

“Callie Ann Lassiter,” he read her name aloud again.

She gritted her teeth. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I flew over to explain to the prince that she can’t marry him because she’s starring in a new movie. The ten thousand dollars is to pay for the airline tickets and other expenses the prince incurred by choosing to be the celebrity for the benefit.”

When he didn’t say anything, she went on with her explanation.

“She’s very sorry about breaking the contract. I assure you she would have followed through with the marriage. But on the night of the benefit, her agent called with the opportunity of a lifetime. She couldn’t pass it up.”