The Prince's Cinderella Doc

by Louisa Heaton

  She’d had enough of that kind of terror already.

  * * *

  Krystiana reached up her hand to stroke the mane of a beautiful grey horse. ‘She’s gorgeous!’

  ‘Her name is Matilde.’

  She jumped, not having expected to hear Matteo’s voice. She’d thought it would just be Alex and her nanny. Maybe a groomsman, but no one else.

  ‘Matteo...’

  He smiled at her and patted the horse on its neck. ‘She’s a gentle beast and she will look after you.’

  ‘Good. I’ll need that. I haven’t ridden before.’

  He looked surprised. ‘No? Then I’m glad you agreed to come along. Everyone should ride a horse at least once. Horses spark a passion that often consumes.’

  Horses weren’t the only thing that sparked a passion... She’d lain await all night thinking of him.

  ‘Well, I could hardly turn down a princess, could I? And give up the opportunity of a lifetime?’ She’d always wanted to ride a horse.

  He laughed. ‘No one can turn her down! Once she turns that smile upon you, you’re lost.’

  She knew the feeling.

  ‘And the dark horse? Is he yours?’

  He smiled. ‘Galileo? Si. A very proud beast.’ He could see the uncertainty in her face. Her anticipation. ‘Nervous?’

  ‘Yes. A lot.’

  ‘Do you trust me?’

  How could she answer that? To say anything but yes would be rude. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll lead Matilde with a guide rope and Sofia will guide Alex’s pony. We’re only going for a gentle walk through the orchard. No galloping.’

  He smiled to reassure her.

  ‘Alex, mio cara, let’s get you up in that saddle.’ He lifted his daughter up onto the horse’s back, making sure she was secure and steady before letting go. ‘Your helmet is on tight?’

  ‘Si, Papà.’

  Krystiana looked uncertain. ‘I may need help getting up on this beast. How do you do it without falling off the other side?’

  Matteo smiled at her. He held Matilde’s reins firmly and showed Krystiana how to put her foot into the stirrup and hoist herself into the saddle.

  She did it quickly, not wanting him to have to hold her around the waist or touch her bottom, because if he touched her anywhere below the belt line she feared for her heart-rate.

  He mounted his own steed.

  ‘Are we all ready?’

  The two women nodded.

  ‘Alexandra?’

  His daughter nodded, her eyes on her horse’s neck.

  He made a small noise of encouragement to his horse and used his stirrups to urge the animal into a walk. The other three followed behind as he led them into the orchard.

  The sun shone down on them from above, warming her bare arms and feeling good. As she adjusted to the horse’s gait Krystiana found herself relaxing somewhat, beginning to enjoy the adventure.

  It was everything she’d hoped it would be. The horse’s motion was almost a rocking movement, hypnotic in its rhythm, and with the warmth of the sun and the beautiful orchard all around them she felt herself wanting to just relax and drift off—especially as she’d lost a lot of sleep last night.

  It was such a strange world, she thought. That one moment she could be attending refugees on a beach, and the next moment be horse-riding. What were Roshan and Qamar doing now? And the others? Were they already in hospital? Were they feeling better?

  Matteo led the parade of horses down a steep slope and along a small grassy path that would take them into the main thicket of trees.

  As they moved along she listened to the birds singing, and then she heard the steady trickle of water and smiled when he led them towards a small babbling brook. Picture-perfect.

  They stopped for a moment, and the horses sniffed at the water but chose to nibble on the tall grass alongside it.

  ‘Is everyone all right?’ asked Matteo.

  Krystiana nodded—as did Sofia, the nanny.

  ‘Si, Papà,’ said Alex.

  He smiled and urged the horses onward.

  * * *

  He’d not known Krystiana would be horse-riding with him and Alex. He’d thought it was just going to be himself, the nanny and his daughter. It had been a surprise to see her standing there at the stables, in figure-hugging jeans and a checked shirt. All she needed was a Stetson and she would look like a proper cowgirl.

  Her long hair was in its usual plait. He’d spent the entire night, tossing and turning in bed, wondering what her hair would look like spread out over a pillow.

  That moment they’d shared in the refugee tent had been...electric. He’d felt it. He’d noticed that she felt it too, but luckily she’d done something to avoid it.

  He didn’t need the complication of another relationship. He’d married his best friend and hadn’t made that work—what hope would there be for anyone else? Plus, he couldn’t contemplate the idea of another relationship. If you loved someone, you lost them, and the pain of that was too much.

  His father was a different man since losing Matteo’s mother, and when he himself had come home to find his mother dead and that his wife had moved on and begun a new relationship, he’d decided there and then that the only person he would ever love again would be his daughter.

  He wasn’t looking for love. Or a fling. His position dictated that a fling would be very bad news indeed. The Crown Prince of Isla Tamoura did not use women in such a way. He had standards. And morals.

  Any deeper relationship was a no-go, so...

  But seeing her here this morning had fired his blood once again, and he was glad that she was a novice with horses—it meant that he could lead without having to look at her or make eye contact, and everyone seemed quite content to just ride along and view the scenery in peace and quiet.

  Not that his mind was peaceful. Or quiet. It was coming up with a million and one thoughts about Krystiana that he kept trying to push away.

  I am not risking my heart again. No way.

  The kidnapping, and then coming home to find his marriage over, his mother dead, were three huge stresses he’d already had to cope with, and there was his coronation coming up at the end of the year...

  He just wanted to relax whilst he had the chance. He did not need the added complication of a forbidden crush. Because that was what it would be. They’d shared an experience. They’d both been glad to find someone else who knew how that felt—that was all.

  A mind trick. The body playing games.

  He knew he was stronger than that. He’d spent two years wondering if this was the day he was going to die and carrying on anyway. If he could get through that, then he could get through this.

  A few more weeks and she’d be gone from his life. Any future physicals would be conducted by Dr Bonetti, and if he retired he would ask another doctor to take over that particular duty.

  He could resist his feelings for a few more weeks.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘SHE’S BEAUTIFUL...’ WHISPERED MARA.

  Matteo looked over at his ex-wife, who lay on their daughter’s bed as she went off to sleep. ‘She is.’

  Mara smiled. ‘I wasn’t talking about Alex. Though she is very beautiful, of course. I meant the woman I saw you with.’

  He decided to play ignorant. He didn’t need his wife playing games. ‘You’ve already met Sofia. You hired her.’

  ‘The doctor, Matteo.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Krystiana? She’s just staying here until her place gets fixed.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  He picked up the book they’d been reading to Alex and quietly slid it back onto his daughter’s bookshelf. ‘Of course that’s all.’

  ‘Are you sure, Matteo?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes.’

 
‘Krystiana? Not Dr Szenac?’

  ‘We’re friends. You call friends by their first name. Remember, Mara? We’re friends—it’s what we do.’

  She nodded. ‘Of course! Of course that’s what friends do. I’m just not sure I’ve ever seen friends look at each other the way you two do.’

  ‘I barely know her.’

  ‘You barely know her or you’re friends?’

  His ex-wife slowly got off the bed, hoping their daughter wouldn’t wake. They both crept from the room and Mara pulled the door almost closed as they headed into the next room.

  Matteo handed his ex-wife the glass of wine she’d started earlier. ‘Please don’t, Mara.’

  She stared him down. ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘Don’t try to matchmake.’

  ‘I’m not! But I am asking you to be careful.’

  ‘You’re hinting. Just because you’re all loved up, and you feel guilty about giving up on me, it does not mean I’m your responsibility.’

  ‘I’m not trying to fix you up, Matteo. I’m asking you to think carefully about what you’re doing.’

  He shook his head at her, amused. ‘Nothing’s happened.’

  She smiled. ‘Keep it that way—or you’re going to hurt a lot of people.’

  * * *

  The next day Krystiana found herself standing outside her villa with Aunt Carolina, who had agreed to meet her there. Some progress had been made. A lot of the loose rubble had been cleared and the first-floor ceiling had been propped up by scaffolding and made secure, whilst a lot of the loose brickwork had been hacked back, so that the hole in her wall had become almost twice the size. Inside, her furniture looked forlorn and strange, open to the elements, but she thanked her lucky stars that there’d been no rain and therefore no water damage.

  ‘Carlo!’ She waved to the foreman and he waved back, jumping down from a digger that was removing debris to another part of the site. ‘How is everything going?’

  ‘It’s going as well as can be expected. My team are working hard and at all hours round the clock.’

  ‘Are we still looking at a few weeks’ work?’

  ‘Three...four weeks, maybe. As long as there are no more surprises.’

  ‘You’ve had surprises?’

  He smiled. ‘Not yet.’ He turned to look at her aunt and she realised she hadn’t introduced them. She did so.

  ‘Buongiorno.’

  She noticed the interested smile on Carlo’s face as he looked at her aunt, and saw that Aunt Carolina was smiling back.

  ‘You’re working hard all day, every day? Seven days a week?’ Carolina asked.

  ‘Si.’

  ‘Perhaps I should bring you and your crew some food? Some drinks?’

  ‘That would be very kind of you—thank you. We lose a lot of time on lunch breaks, going to find food to eat, so that would help us work faster.’

  Carolina beamed. ‘Well, I’d like to think I was helping...’

  Krystiana looked from one to the other and found herself smiling. Who’d have thought it? Carolina and Carlo? Her aunt had lived alone ever since her divorce, years ago, and had always said that men were more trouble than they were worth.

  Clearly she was having a change of heart!

  ‘Come on. We need to get going or we’ll be late for lunch ourselves.’ Krystiana interrupted.

  ‘Of course. I’ll see you later, Carlo.’

  Carolina waved as she walked away with her niece back to their car.

  Once inside, Krystiana turned to her. ‘Well, you’ve changed your tune!’

  ‘He was a very nice man!’

  ‘They all are. To begin with. You tell me that all the time.’

  ‘Maybe so—but being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You have to give someone a chance to prove you wrong.’

  Did she? Her father had proved her right. Those who had your heart could hurt you the most. As Adamo had. Did she have to give Matteo a chance? He seemed nice and kind. He seemed a good, strong, caring man. But what if that was just his public persona? What if he was someone else entirely?

  The smile on her aunt’s face put doubt into her mind for the next couple of hours, and she found herself wondering, as she was being driven back to the palace, whether she’d been too harsh in her decision-making and ought to give Matteo the opportunity to show her that he was not going to break her heart.

  Perhaps if they went out once or twice, and the excitement of something new died down and the fear dissipated somewhat, she’d discover that they didn’t have much in common anyway—so what was she worried about?

  It could hardly become anything, anyway. He was a prince! He wouldn’t enter a relationship lightly, either.

  When she got back to her quarters she stared at the suitcase in the bottom of her wardrobe and decided she would leave it there just a little bit longer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MATTEO HAD INVITED her to dinner in his quarters. He wasn’t sure whether he should have or not, but he’d figured, What the hell? He was a grown man, they were both adults and they were friends. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have any self-control. He liked her. He could spend time with her. But that was all it would be.

  It wouldn’t be a late night. She was bound to be busy, would no doubt have some work to do in her quarters, and he’d only just said goodbye to Mara and Alex, who had gone back to their own private estate in Ventura. There was a load of work for him to catch up on.

  He knew he might be playing with fire, but he also knew he couldn’t spend the next few weeks jumping out of his skin every time he had to spend time with Krystiana. Best to have a couple of hours in her company and cool the heck down. Okay, so she had beautiful eyes and a nice smile. She was kind and generous and easy to be with...

  I’m not exactly talking myself out of this, am I?

  He put on some dark trousers and a white shirt. Simple elegance. Something he could feel relaxed in. He didn’t want to look as if he was trying to impress her. Because he wasn’t. But any gentleman showed respect for the woman he was with by dressing nicely for her.

  Krystiana arrived on the dot of seven, her gentle knock at the door signalling her arrival. His heart hammered in his throat and he paused before answering the door, but then he took a deep, steadying breath and swung it open.

  And there she stood, looking gorgeous and summery in a blue wraparound dress, that long plait of hers over one shoulder.

  ‘Hi. Come on in!’ He stepped back.

  ‘Thanks.’ As she stepped in he automatically leaned forward to drop a kiss upon her cheek. He held his breath as he pressed his face close to hers, and his heart almost leapt from his throat as his lips pressed against her skin. She smelt of flowers and soap and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

  And then he was pulling away and he could breathe again.

  She’d flushed a beautiful pink in her cheeks and, clearly trying to distract him from it, she pointed. ‘What’s that? The painting you promised to show me?’

  He nodded at the canvas on the easel, draped with a cover, smiling, but looking apprehensive. ‘I’m no Da Vinci, but, yes. Here you go. What do you think?’

  He pulled the cover off with a flourish so that she could see it.

  An explosion of colour leapt out and he watched her face carefully as she picked up the canvas to consider it properly. Clearly he was new to painting, but he had tried hard and his use of colour was good for an amateur. Even if he said so himself. He’d enjoyed doing it and considered doing so again.

  No, he wasn’t Da Vinci, or Picasso, or any other famous painter. But it was definitely a Romano. Rich in texture and colour, a riot of green interspersed with cobalt blue, scarlet red and sunshine-yellow. A vast blue sky clear of clouds sat overhead, and he’d even attempted the mosaic floor, using hi
s fingertips for each tile.

  ‘Matteo, it’s marvellous!’

  ‘Thank you.’ He was pleased that she liked it—he took pleasure from her pleasure.

  ‘Are you sure you did this? It’s beautiful! You’ve done a wonderful job for your first time.’

  ‘Imagine what I’d be like with practice.’ He smiled.

  She looked at him, her smile uncertain.

  ‘Yes! Yes, I imagine you would be brilliant!’ She laid the canvas back upon the easel and admired it better by stepping back. ‘You’ve captured the very essence of the garden. Full of life and joy. This will keep you going in the winter months when there’s less in bloom.’

  And suddenly he knew something. ‘I’d like you to have it.’

  ‘Me?’

  He nodded. ‘I can look at the real thing every day. You’ll be going home soon and I’d like to think you will remember your visit.’

  It saddened him to think of her leaving. She was a kindred spirit. Someone who had experienced the same thing as he and that was important. Who else would understand what he had gone through?

  But it was more than that shared experience. There was a naturalness about Krystiana. Something about her that spoke to him. And it was confusing and worrying and exciting in different ways. But that was the whole point of tonight. To show that he could deal with that and not act on it. Krystiana could never be more than his friend, and that was the thing that he needed to remember more than anything else.

  Besides, princes could not be with commoners. It was against the law of his country. So...that was that. As Mara had tried to forewarn him. And it was a good thing, because it kept him safe. She was out of bounds and men like him did not have flings. The media would have a field-day if he did. But thankfully his heart was boxed away. To all intents and purposes it was still in that mountain cave and he had to leave it there.