“Trade?” Her heart sped up. She’d flown to a different country with a hot-as the-devil European bad boy who had a reputation for hard drinking and who knew what else. Well, she had ideas, but Astorre wasn’t the kind to consider her as anything more than a one-nighter.
Which she wasn’t interested in being.
So they were here at the edge of the old world, as friends. He’d wanted company when he turned poor like her on his thirtieth birthday tomorrow.
He finally sipped his wine and stared at her like he could see through her clothes a la superman if he wanted. “For every personal question I answer, you have to answer one of mine.”
The game he was asking to play could be dangerous. She nodded, knowing she could stop at any time if things devolved. “Okay. I have nothing to hide. What do you want to know about me in exchange?”
His gaze narrowed to assess her like she’d issued him a challenge. He swallowed a drink of wine. “How old were you when you had your first kiss?”
Never. She'd never been kissed. She was twenty-eight and not the kind of girl a man noticed, as her hands were too rough and not soft like a lady's. “Your questions should be on the same level as mine, or it's not a fair game.”
He leaned in closer and said, “Both are personal.”
Clara was a lone wolf in the world. She knew it. She wanted her first kiss to happen only if it led to her true love. Maybe it was stupid, but she held onto her dreams like they were promises to herself to make her life better. She pressed her lips together. “Yours can lead to sex questions. Mine doesn’t.”
His lips curved into a dimpled smile. Seriously, Astorre was heavenly perfection. “Mine can lead to more interesting questions, I suppose.”
A kiss of his would leave her heartbroken, as there was no way the girl who wanted forever and the bad boy who likely had scores of women in his bed ever ended up together. She wasn’t a fool. Clara folded her hands in front of her chest. “Mine is non-sexual background for the book.”
He rested one finger against his face as he studied her. He didn’t move or blink but then he said, “I don’t think you’ve ever been kissed well and that’s why you are avoiding the question. It's also why you're here with me on the claim of writing a book about me.”
Her face burned but she refused to acknowledge that he was right. He could never know so she said, “I am writing a book, and your life is more interesting than mine.”
He handed her a date to eat while he said, “The fiction piece you showed me in Paris was pretty good.”
No one had ever asked to read her stuff and she’d never been brave enough to send anything out--he'd been her first and only reader. To her surprise, the fruit was much better than the last cookie she’d eaten. “I never could figure out an ending for that one so it’s going nowhere.”
He popped the date in his mouth and ate it. “The shop girl doesn’t fall for the billionaire?”
She let out a laugh and decided she’d try another fig. Absolutely better than cookies. Wow. Clara wasn’t all about an organic diet and the only fruit she'd tried was an apple or a banana in a school lunch as a girl. Unlike Astorre, and his exotic tastes--they had nothing in common. She relaxed her body. “She comes to her senses, which is more realistic.”
He refilled their glasses. “Not the ending readers, or even you, actually want though.”
This from the man who’d go from billions to zero in thirty-two hours. “I’ve never considered happily-ever-after to be an actual goal. So back to answering my question.”
He handed her the glass and said, “Yet, it’s evident to me that’s all you want. Anyhow, to keep peace, I’ll revise my second question to you.”
Good. No more talking about kissing. She let out a deep breath. “Thank you. What’s the new question?”
He drank his red wine. “In exchange for explaining how old I was when I wanted to toss my fortune, how old were you when your parents died?”
Her skin had that prickly feeling. Again. This was hard. She never knew how to answer when someone asked her about it. Did Astorre mean her natural parents, or her adoptive parents? Her lips were parched and she sipped her wine. She swallowed and tried to find the words. “I was… very well. Why don't you go first?”
He nodded and spoke like he was reciting from a paper and not sharing his life. “I was fifteen when we moved back to Avce, my parents and I. Then the day I turned sixteen I went to… a friend’s home to celebrate. My parents never showed up…”
At least he remembered them. Her heart was wild with anticipation as she asked, “Why not?”
He continued his monotone recitation she could never manage when telling her own story and said, “Turns out my father murdered my mother and went looking for me. He killed a groomsman riding one of my horses, thinking that I'd ridden home from the party. The groomsman was wearing my jacket. My little sister was smart enough at ten to run and hide or I wouldn't have her either. At the end, after hunting for her for a while, my father killed himself.”
She winced and imagined every second. That had to be hard. He was old enough to remember faces. She just had pockets of her life that she remembered. She took his hand. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged like it didn’t matter that he’d lived through such horror and gave her a haunting smile. “You’re not from Avce, and so you didn’t look at me with pity in your gaze the first time we'd met.”
She’d inherited nothing from her painful past. Though tainted, Astorre had the world and he was about to throw it away. She was very familiar with looks of sympathy and patted his arm. “I know the feeling entirely. So you want to get rid of your home to get back at your father?”
“I technically live there, but I've actively avoided inhabiting the same place of an incomplete murder investigation. Once I’m thirty, I'll be penniless but also free.”
Hard to argue with that, except that he’d never once struggled with making his way--food, or shelter, or any luxury he wanted. She raised her eyebrows though she doubted she could mimic his impenetrable expression. “Being poor isn’t a blessing and you’ll realize giving up every dime is a mistake.”
He shrugged like her comments weren’t warranted and said, “Clara, your turn to answer.”
Maybe she’d been out of line. They’d just met. She’d come to help ease him into a penniless existence as the law was that he only got to keep the clothes on his back. He closed up, and she just couldn't press for more details of his future. But the clock was ticking toward the end of this vacation.
She’d promised to answer his question. “Oh… First when I was a baby, my natural parents died. Then when I was four, my adoptive parents died in a car accident. It wasn’t as dramatic as what happened with your parents clearly, but I was devastated. Grandmother May told me every day I wasn’t really a Fortuna and she was no blood relation of mine. I moved out at eighteen and only returned at twenty-two to ensure she was properly buried.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t give the usual sympathetic glance and pull away. Instead he took her glass and said, “That calls for another round.”
It was practically full from the last round. Astorre poured to the rim and she said, “Wait! That’s a lot.”
He shrugged and filled his own. “You’re on vacation. Don't worry. I’ll get you to your hotel room before I lose everything.”
Alcohol wasn’t a good way to seal the friend-zone. She ignored the pulse in her veins that whispered he understood her in a way most people didn't. “Alone?”
He placed his hand on his heart. “If my word means anything, then yes.”
She pointed toward his purchases. “Then let’s open a second bottle.”
He sipped from his full glass and relaxed into his seat as the rain grew more intense outside the stone window overlooking the rocks she’d climbed and supposedly Hercules had split. Reading had always been her only escape as she’d never had a vacation until now. He said, “Finish this and I’ll get us to
the hotel where we can both enjoy the second bottle.”
Right. She was full of energy inside as every cell in her body was aware of him, sitting calmly across the table. “I’m trusting you, Astorre. Don’t let me down.”
“Trust? Clara, you’re probably the only woman in the world to ever say that to me.” He placed his hands on the table. "You're safe."
Maybe in another life, she’d be his type. But for tonight and tomorrow she would learn all she could about him, and stay at his side. She’d enjoy the moment for once and live.
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Also by Victoria Pinder
Returning for Valentine’s (FREE if you go to my website)
The House of Morgan
Secret Crush
Secret Baby
Secret Bet
Secret Wish
Secret Dad
Secret Heir
Secret Tryst
Secret Date
Secret Romeo
Secret Caress
Secret Match
Secret Bridesmaid
Secret Admirer
Secret Cowboy
Secret Mistress
Secret Cinderella
The House of Morgan Boxed Set 1-3
The House of Morgan Boxed Set 4-6
The House of Morgan Boxed Set 7-9
The House of Morgan Boxed Set 10-12
The House of Morgan Boxed Set 13-15
Princes of Avce
Forbidden Crown
Forbidden Prince
Forbidden Royal
Forbidden Duke
Forbidden Earl
Forbidden Monsieur
Forbidden Marquis
Forbidden Count
Forbidden King
Forbidden Bastard
Forbidden Noble
Forbidden Lord
Princes of Avce 1-3
Princes of Avce 4-6
Princes of Avce 7-9
Steel Series
Legendary Rock Star
Rocking Player
Ruthless Financier
Wicked Cowboy
Powerful Prince
Cocky M.D.
The Hawke Fortune
Tempting Gabe
Tempting James
Tempting Conner
Tempting Harry
Tempting Navid
Hawke Series
Brothers in Revenge
Irresistibly Lost
Irresistibly Found
Irresistibly Charming
Irresistibly Tough
Irresistibly Played
Irresistibly Rugged
Irresistibly Strong
Irresistibly Dashing
Irresistibly Boxed Set 3-5
Irresistibly Boxed Set 4-6
Hidden Alphas
Hidden Gabriel
Hidden Raphael
Hidden Michael
Hidden Dane
Hidden Rocco
Hidden Alphas Boxed Set
The Marshall Family Saga
Favorite Crush
Favorite Mistake
Favorite Sin
Favorite Scandal
The Collins Brothers
Chaperoning Paris
Borrowing the Doctor
Gerard
Liam
Eric
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Science Fiction/Fantasy Romance
Hidden Dragon Series
Call of the Dragon
Dawn of the Dragon
Escape of the Dragon (Coming Soon)
The Queen Gene
Whispers of a Throne
Storm of the Throne (coming soon)
Earthseekers Mission
Makeup May Change Your Life
The Zoastra Affair
Ancient Greek Heroes
Romancing Theseus
Mything the Throne
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author, Victoria Pinder grew up in Irish Catholic Boston then moved to Miami. Eventually, found that writing is her passion. She always wrote stories to entertain herself. Her parents are practical minded people demanding a job, but when she sat down to see what she enjoyed doing, writing became obvious.
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Forbidden Bastard: Opposites Attract Matchmaker Romance (Princes of Avce Book 10) Page 16