‘I was about to propose a toast to the heir to the principality of Fabrizio,’ he explained.
She hummed. ‘In that case, I’ll forgive you.’
When Luca smiled his wicked smile, if it hadn’t been for the sexual tension between them they were close enough in that moment to be just two friends enjoying a moment of trust between themselves.
‘Have you chosen your ball gown yet?’ he asked, turning to glance at the packed gown rail.
‘I want you to feel comfortable. I know you’ll look beautiful. It’s going to be a special night for both of us, because this is my chance to introduce you to my guests.’
‘As what?’ she asked.
Luca appeared to ponder this. ‘My personal assistant? No.’ His lips pressed down as he shook his head. ‘What about Keeper of the Crown Jewels? More accurate?’
‘This is serious,’ Callie warned. ‘Please stop teasing me. If I’m going to attend my first ball with you, I need to know where I stand. That’s the only way I’m going to feel comfortable.’
‘Comfortable was the wrong word. I can see that now,’ Luca admitted. ‘I want you to feel sensational. As the ball is tomorrow evening you’d better choose one of these gowns to make sure you do.’
But that wasn’t what she was here for. She had come to Fabrizio to talk about their baby.
What about the promise she’d made to Ma Brown to send a full report on the ball? Callie glanced at the glamorous gowns twinkling on the rail. She wouldn’t be able to get into any of them in a few months’ time, not that she’d have any use for a ball gown when she went home. ‘I’ll look ridiculous,’ she fretted as she rifled through the rail.
‘You’ll look beautiful,’ Luca argued, making himself comfortable. ‘Let’s make a start.’
‘I’ll change in the dressing room,’ she said, picking out the aquamarine gown that had first caught her eye. ‘And I’m not coming out if I look a freak.’
Safe behind the door to her dressing room, Callie stared at herself in the mirror and grimaced. The gown that had looked so pretty on the rail did fit well, but, apart from being so heavy, it was too tight. It pushed her breasts up and her confidence down. But that wasn’t what really worried her. When she emerged from the dressing room, Luca agreed. ‘You look like a mermaid,’ he said as she wiggled her way across the room.
‘Thank goodness that’s a no.’
‘Unless you plan to hop into position at my side?’ he suggested.
‘I could drift towards you in this,’ she suggested when she had changed into the next dress, a coral number with long chiffon floats flying from each shoulder.
‘Nah. You’ll only get caught in the door.’
‘You know me too well.’
‘I’m getting there,’ Luca admitted dryly as Callie chose another dress.
‘This one?’ she asked uncertainly, blowing fronds of fern-like decoration away from her face.
‘You look like a market garden,’ Luca dismissed as she performed a twirl.
True enough, the big floral pattern wasn’t her best look.
‘What about this one?’ he suggested, selecting a plain, intricately beaded flesh-coloured gown.
‘Yes. That’s nice,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll try it on.’
With the dressing-room door closed between them again, Callie stared at her reflection in amazement. She actually looked quite good. Smoothing the delicate fabric over her frame, she had to admit that the gown Luca had chosen was both elegant and sexy. She might have known he’d have exquisite taste. The shade of the fabric matched her skin tone so exactly it was almost possible to imagine she was naked. Naked and shimmering with a slit up the side of the dress that almost reached her waist. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.
Luca said nothing at all. His face was completely expressionless. This was Luca at his most dangerous, she thought. ‘No,’ she warned when he stood up and prowled towards her.
‘Why not?’ he husked. ‘It’s not as if I can make you pregnant.’
‘Luca!’
He swallowed her protests in a kiss, and it wasn’t just a kiss but a whole-body experience that made her hunger for him eclipse everything. His hands were warm on her body. He knew every slope and curve. The gown was so sheer, so delicate, that his touch transmitted effortlessly through it as if they were both naked. Memories bombarded her, memories of pleasure, memories of trust.
‘I want you,’ he growled. ‘Right here. Right now. I can’t wait.’
‘Neither can I,’ she assured him fiercely.
Luca had already found the slit at the side of the dress. She only had to move slightly for his fingers to brush dangerously close to where she needed him. Her breath caught as he handled her with the skill that promised so much more. She was wearing nothing beneath the gown but a flimsy thong. Held together with not much more than a hope and a prayer, the thong stood no chance against Luca’s assault. Ripping it off, he cast it aside and rammed her up against the wall. Breath shot out of her as his hand found her. With teasing strokes, he tested her readiness. That didn’t take long. Freeing himself, he nudged his thigh between her legs and, dipping at the knees, he took her in one long, firm thrust. From there it was a wild, noisy ride to their goal, but even when she shrieked as she lost control he kept on plunging until her throat was hoarse, and her body was alight with pleasure.
‘I can’t feel you,’ she complained when she was able to talk again.
‘What?’ Luca demanded, frowning into her eyes.
‘Not that—’ She groaned with pleasure as he flexed inside her. ‘I mean your naked body,’ she explained. Tugging at his shirt, she made her meaning clear. ‘I want to feel all of you hot and hard against me.’ They ripped his clothes off between them and tossed them aside. ‘Better!’ she approved as his heat rasped against her body.
‘Still not enough for you,’ he guessed. Taking hold of her hands, he pinned them above her head, and with his other hand locked around the front of her dress, he ripped it from her body.
The beautiful gown was shredded, ruined. Disaster. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was this. Rubbing her breasts against him tormented her nipples until they were taut little buds, composed entirely of sensation. They had a direct link to her core, and her hips worked involuntarily in her desperation for more contact. She couldn’t remain still. She couldn’t remain quiet. She was noisy and demanding. Scrambling up him, she locked her legs around his waist.
‘More?’ he suggested in the deep, gravelly voice with its flavour of Italy that could always make her tingle.
‘Are you purposely withholding pleasure from me?’ she demanded.
Luca laughed softly. ‘As if I’d dare.’
‘Don’t make me wait,’ she warned.
His answer was to nuzzle her neck with his sharp black stubble until she was a seething mass of lust. ‘I just asked, did you want more?’ he reminded her.
He surely didn’t expect an answer to that question.
CHAPTER TEN
THE BALL GOWN was ruined. No point worrying about that now. She’d skip the ball. That was the last thought in Callie’s head as Luca made rational thought impossible. He was making love to her. This wasn’t just sex. They were natural together. This was so good, so right. This was fierce. When the moment came, she was wild with fear of the precipice she was facing, but Luca husked soothing words of reassurance and encouragement in his own language as he kissed her over the edge.
‘Greedy,’ he whispered when she quietened.
‘You make me greedy,’ she complained, smiling with contentment as she crashed against his chest.
Finding the nook just below his shoulder blade, she snuggled close as he carried her to the bed. A deep sense of this being right filled her completely. They belonged together. He laid her down gently on the bed and came to lie with her. When he brought her into his arms, her breathing slowed and her limbs grew weightless. Problems nagged at the back of her mind, but they could wait until tomorrow.
Right now she could do nothing more than close her eyes and drift away.
He held Callie in his arms all night, watching her sleep. As he did so, he went over what lay ahead of her. It wouldn’t be an easy transition for her from the freedom of a normal life to all the restrictions of royalty, but if anyone could cope, she could. And he’d be with her every step of the way. He was confident that Callie would adapt to royal life as quickly as he had. He’d rebelled at first, but then he’d been very young. Callie was clever and kind, and her sense of humour would ease her through the sticky patches. Her common sense would get her through the rest. Not only would he have the longed-for heir, but a new, fresh style of Princess who would care for the land he had come to love as deeply as he did.
Careful not to wake her, he left Callie at dawn. Breakfast meetings were the norm for him. With her hair tousled, and her face still flushed with sleep, she had never looked more desirable, but he was a slave to duty. Both his royal council and his business concerns called him this morning. And then there was the ball tonight. He grimaced as he glanced at the gown he’d ruined. But there were plenty more on the rail. Callie would have to forget about being understated for one night, and just choose one of them.
* * *
Callie woke slowly, cautiously. At first she didn’t know where she was. Her head was ploughed into a stack of pillows scented with lavender and sunshine. The bed was firmer than she was used to, the duvet softer...and her body felt very well used. With a groan of contentment, she turned her face, relishing the touch of the smooth white cotton, and inhaled deeply. Slowly, it all came back to her. Reaching out a hand, she searched for Luca, and stilled when she discovered the bed at her side was empty. Sitting up, she could see the indentation of his head on the pillow, so she hadn’t imagined last night. She really was at the palace. The palace! In the most sumptuous suite of rooms imaginable. Incredible. But it was very quiet. She stilled and knew at once she was alone.
Hearing a knock on the door, she hastily pulled up the sheet to cover her naked body. ‘Yes?’ It had to be the maid. Spotting what remained of the glamorous gown still strewn on the floor, she called out, ‘Just a minute,’ and leapt out of bed. Gossip would spread like wildfire in the palace. Why fan the flames? Gathering up the dress, she brought it back to the bed, and stuffed it out of sight beneath the bedding. ‘Come in,’ she called out brightly.
The maid entered carrying a breakfast tray. There was a single red rose in a silver vase on the tray. ‘From His Serene Highness,’ the maid explained as she set down the tray. ‘He has suggested that you rest this morning in preparation for the ball.’
Recover, he meant, Callie thought dryly, showing nothing of her thoughts on the passionate night before on her face. ‘Thank you for bringing my breakfast,’ she said warmly, ‘but I will be getting up.’
‘Oh, and this arrived by courier,’ the maid said as she handed Callie a package she had lodged under her arm.
‘For me?’ Callie exclaimed with surprise.
She bolted breakfast as the maid opened the curtains and threw the windows wide. She couldn’t wait to open the unexpected parcel, but wanted to do so when she was alone.
‘Anything else I can get for you?’ the maid asked politely before she left.
‘Nothing. Thank you.’
Turning over the large padded envelope, Callie smiled broadly. The bold handwriting gave the game away, as did the UK stamp. ‘Ma Brown,’ she breathed. ‘What have you done now?’
What Ma had done was to go shopping at a popular high street store, where she’d found the perfect dress for Callie to wear at the ball. Callie gasped with pleasure as she held it up and saw her reflection. The dress was simple and elegant. At last, a dress she could feel comfortable in. She’d take a shower and then she’d try it on.
The fine flesh-coloured fabric slithered over Callie’s naked body like a second skin. It couldn’t have fitted her better. The design was uncannily similar to the gown that lay ruined on the bed. The popular brand was a known fast follower that could have catwalk looks available for sale within hours. She would go to the ball, Callie concluded with amusement as she slipped on a pair of high-heeled shoes, and in a dress worth infinitely more to her than all those expensive gowns on the rail put together. Picking up her phone to thank her best of friends, she smiled with pleasure. ‘Oh, Ma Brown, you’ve really come up trumps this time,’ she murmured as she waited for the call to connect.
* * *
It was the evening of the grand ball and all his guests had arrived, but where was Callie? He wasn’t accustomed to waiting. Tonight of all nights, a late arrival was unacceptable. Her maid had been given strict instructions regarding timing. Royals were expected to be punctual. Everything ran to clockwork precision. There was no leeway for a few minutes either way. With impatience, he turned his attention from the entrance where Callie was due to appear, to the guests who were waiting to meet him.
Laughter and excitement filled the room. There was a huge sense of expectation. No one had refused his invitation to the ball. There were rumours of an announcement tonight and interest was running high. He felt a great sense of love and gratitude for the restoration his father, the late Prince, had carried out so efficiently on the glorious old building, and this did soothe him to some small degree. The ballroom was a glittering spectacle with huge chandeliers glittering like diamond globes beneath a domed sky of priceless frescoes. An orchestra of the most talented Viennese musicians set the mood. Waiters in black dress trousers and short white jackets, braided with the royal colours, carried solid gold trays bearing a selection of canapés prepared by the world’s top chefs. There were two champagne fountains, as well as tall crystal flutes of vintage champagne being offered to guests at priceless French ormolu tables that lined the room. Nearly every country was represented. Splendidly dressed royals dripping in family jewels mingled with diplomats and top-ranking soldiers. No one was too proud to sup at his table. Guessing that tonight would be talked about for years had winkled out even the most standoffish royal. Everyone was keen to see how the boy from the gutters had transformed into a prince.
So where was she?
There was no excuse for this. He had instructed his private secretary to commission the finest hairdressers and beauticians to assist Callie with her preparations for tonight. He couldn’t believe her personal maid had failed to get her out on time. Did Callie hope to slip in unnoticed? Was she coming at all?
He gave a grim shrug. Callie Smith was the one woman he could never predict. Summoning a footman, he sent a message to Signorina Smith’s maid to ask how much longer she would be. The man hurried off, leaving Luca to seethe in silence.
* * *
Well, this was it, Callie concluded as two liveried footmen swung the gilded double doors wide. She had politely asked the hairdressers and make-up artists to leave, preferring to get ready by herself, and now there was just this small hurdle of a ballroom packed with the great and good to overcome. She inhaled sharply at the scene of dazzling glamour, and was almost blinded by the flash of diamonds and the light flaring from countless chandeliers. Trust me to forget my tiara tonight, she mused wryly. Lifting her chin, she walked forward.
‘Signorina Callista Smith.’
Callie glanced around as the disembodied voice of a famous television personality announced her arrival at the ball.
‘That’s you, miss,’ one of the friendly footmen who’d opened the door for her prompted in an exaggerated stage whisper.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.
In the time it had taken Callie to say this, every head had turned her way. Even the orchestra paused, leaving her at the top of a dizzying flight of marble steps. The solid mass of people below her looked impenetrable, and not exactly welcoming. Her throat dried. She clenched her hands into fists at her side. She could only pray the stiletto heels fairy was on her side tonight.
‘Wait...’
Every head swivelled to stare at Luca. His familiar v
oice stripped the tension from her shoulders. Her gaze fixed on him as the crowd parted to let him through. Whatever remained of her breath flew from her lungs as he strode forward. In full dress uniform, with his sash of office drawing attention to his powerful chest, this was the man she remembered, the man her body rejoiced in, the man she laughed with, slept with, and enjoyed challenging, as Luca relished tormenting her, and right now he looked good enough to eat.
‘May I?’ he asked, offering his arm as he prepared to lead her down the stairs.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled—graciously, she hoped.
If a pin had dropped, it would most certainly have deafened her. It appeared that no one breathed, let alone spoke, as Luca steered her safely down the steps.
‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered.
‘I’m sorry I took so long,’ she whispered back. ‘The hairdresser made me look like a freak, so I had to redo everything. And don’t even ask about the make-up.’
‘But you aren’t wearing any.’
‘Exactly,’ she murmured. ‘If you’d seen me with false eyelashes and red-apple cheeks you’d have run a mile.’
‘Would I?’ he murmured, sounding unconvinced.
They’d reached the dance floor by this time. Everyone was staring, but just being with Luca reassured her, and she didn’t hesitate when he asked her to dance.
Callie came into his arms like a rather lovely boat floating effortlessly into its mooring. The intimacy between them must have been obvious to everyone, and the shocked silence that had first greeted her changed at once to a buzz of interest.
‘I can just imagine what they’re saying,’ she breathed.
‘Do you care?’ he replied.
‘No,’ she assured him. ‘I just wish I was barefoot. You’re in serious danger of being stabbed.’
‘Not a chance,’ he whispered.
He laughed. She relaxed, and the glamorous ball continued.
‘Where did you get the beautiful dress?’ he asked. ‘You look stunning. It’s so elegant. I didn’t see it on the rail. It’s so delightfully simple, compared to other women’s more elaborate gowns.’
A Night of Royal Consequences Page 12