Rebecca Winters - Bride Fit for a Prince

“I’m afraid the prince only uses a cell phone.”

She took a struggling breath. “Then I assume you have one, too. May I use yours, please?”

“I would offer mine, but it needs to be recharged.”

“How convenient.”

As if proclaiming his innocence, he lifted those broad masculine shoulders still covered by his black Italian leather jacket. Her sarcasm had been utterly wasted on him.

“Before Prince Enzo arrives, we might as well begin a discussion of tomorrow’s schedule. It’s my job to prepare you for your nuptials. Why don’t you sit down again and relax. Too much anxiety before the wedding ceremony will carry over into the bridal chamber.

“Ever since he saw your photograph last month, the prince has been anticipating your wedding night. He expects to find his new consort as eager as he is to begin your life together as husband and wife. It’s up to me to make certain he isn’t disappointed.”

By now Callie’s face was on fire. “And of course I don’t have any say in the situation.”

“None. Of your own freewill—in front of the attorney for the benefit as well Prince Enzo’s personal attorney—you signed a contract I drew up for the prince myself. It is airtight, signorina. No power on earth, not even the Pope himself, can break it.”

“I didn’t sign it,” she said calmly. “My sister did.”

His gaze captured hers. She fought not to look away.

“Supposing that’s true…” His voice trailed. “And you really do have an identical twin named Ann…it still won’t stop the wedding from taking place tomorrow.”

Something menacing in his tone sent a spiral of fear snaking through her body.

“If your sister had looked carefully at the profile given her on Prince Enzo by the benefit committee, she would have seen that the blood of the Borgia’s as well as the Tescotti’s runs through his veins.

“It’s an historical fact that it was Cesare Borgia whom Machiavelli used as the model for his book about the prince who ruled without moral consideration for his terrified subjects.”

He leaned forward. “If I were you, I’d start thinking very hard how you’re going to influence your new husband not to have your sister arrested for sending you in her place. Prison is no place for the fiancée of Prince Enzo.”

Callie refused to be intimidated. “Ann’s not here to arrest.”

“That’s true. But you are…” His eyes had narrowed to black slits, like the kind you saw hollowed out in a castle turret where the bowmen shot their arrows.

“I thought Prince Enzo wanted me for his bride.”

“Naturalmente you’ll become his princess. When you’ve served your purpose, then you’ll be placed under house arrest.”

She felt her escape route closing fast, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

“So now we get down to the real reason for this absurd farce. My sister has already written him a check for ten thousand dollars which is all of her savings.

“With this next film, I’m sure she’ll be able to give him five times that amount. What’s his price? If she can’t meet it all the way, I’ll go to my bank and see how much of a loan I can take out.” At this rate Callie would be in debt for the rest of her life.

“Your loyalty to your sister is nothing short of astounding, signorina. That is if you have a sister,” he drawled unnervingly. “It’s a pity money is not the consideration here.”

He reached in his pocket and threw the check down on the coffee table for her to take back.

“Then what is?” she blurted in exasperation. “Why has he gone to all the trouble of choosing an American bride? Unless—”

She darted him a wicked smile. “Unless, of course, he has some genetic defect handed down from the Borgias that every Italian woman of royal blood already knows about and has avoided like the bubonic plague.”

With the stealth of a panther, Nicco rose to his full height, bigger than life. “You’re not as empty-headed as I had supposed, so I’m not going to ruin the surprise. Tomorrow morning you’ll find out for yourself just exactly what you, or your sister, agreed to marry.”

“That’s barbaric!”

The moment she shouted the words, the boxer growled deep in his throat and went into his guard dog stance.

A taunting smile broke the corner of Nicco’s hard mouth. “Valentino likes you very much, which is surprising when you consider his passionate devotion to the prince. Keep your voice well modulated and he won’t treat you as an intruder. It’s the last thing he wants to do. As you can see, his short tail is wagging.”

Valentino she could handle. The dog was wonderful. As for Nicco, he’d backed her into a corner.

Letting go of the breath she’d been holding she said, “You had me brought to this apartment under false pretenses. I won’t be seeing the prince until the wedding, will I.”

“Now you’re catching on, as you Americans are fond of saying.”

He must have spent a lot of time around someone from the States. How she’d love to wipe that triumphant expression from his good-looking face.

There was no way she would be a victim if she could help it. An idea for escape had just come to her. If it didn’t work, then she’d try something else.

“Since you leave me with no choice but to surrender, how about granting this condemned prisoner one last favor before her execution tomorrow?”

His white smile was so unexpected and electrifying, her heart almost jumped out of her body. “Short of asking for a reprieve, your wish is my command, signorina.”

“You mean that?” She infused a little trembling into her question to reveal a deceptive combination of fear and humility.

“Try me and find out.”

“Could we go on that ride around the city you promised me earlier?”

“Of course. I’ll arrange for the limousine.”

“No—I mean on your motorcycle.”

A strange quiet filled the room. It pleased her that her request was the last thing he’d expected to be asked.

“In a movie I once rented, this American woman rode on the back of this guy’s motorcycle while they toured Naples. It looked so fun the way he maneuvered them through the narrow streets and alleys. They were able to go exciting places a car wouldn’t fit.”

He rubbed his jaw absently. “Torino’s a northern city of long parkways, gardens, promenades and right angles, signorina.”

Before she averted her eyes, she purposely let out a deep sigh he couldn’t help hearing.

“It’s all right, Nicco. I understand. Really I do,” she said in the way she might speak to a small child.

After a suspicious pause, “What is it you think you understand?”

Good. She’d piqued his curiosity, just as she’d hoped.

“That your responsibility is to protect me until tomorrow.”

“And?” he bit out impatiently. When she looked at him again, his eyes glittered with an unfathomable light.

“I should have realized you don’t feel confident enough to show me the sights on your bike without having an accident. You could have just told me the truth, but I forgot your pride. I understand the Italian male’s is more inflated than that of the other men of the world.”

He had no idea how much satisfaction it gave her to say that to him.

A sardonic smile broke out on his lips. “If anything, I was trying to protect your female sensibilities. You would have to cling to me like you were my second skin,” he said in a husky tone, leaving her in no doubt what he was thinking.

“However if that’s your heart’s desire, far be it from me to deny Prince Enzo’s lovely fiancée her final request.”

Again she looked away, thrilled to realize she’d accomplished her first objective. But she wasn’t going to fool herself that obtaining her second goal would be as easy to achieve.