The Mistress That Tamed De Santis

by Natalie Anderson

  He walked back into the lounge. He’d swiftly dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. They might be casual wear for him, but he’d slipped back behind his reserve.

  She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to fall back onto the floor and take him with her. She wanted that delicious feeling all over again. But she didn’t dare.

  ‘I am sorry, I must leave.’ He glanced at his watch, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. ‘I’m late already.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Stay and sleep,’ he instructed politely. ‘The bed is through there...’ He had the grace to look slightly sheepish.

  ‘No, I have things I need to do as well.’ She pulled her clothes nearer. ‘I’ll leave ten minutes after you. Will use a different exit from the building or something.’

  He was silent. ‘I would like Matteo to ensure you get home safely.’

  That poor guy was still in the building ready for service? ‘That’s not necessary.’ Her skin burned anew with that all-over body-blush and she quickly pulled her tee shirt on, not bothering with her bra first. She just wanted to cover up. She just wanted him to leave already.

  His jaw tightened but he didn’t argue. He stood for another moment and she inwardly winced at the awkwardness.

  ‘Goodbye,’ he said stiffly, still frowning at her, looking as if he might say something more.

  She didn’t want him to.

  ‘Goodbye, Prince Antonio.’ She lifted her chin and threw him her most sophisticated ‘Bella Sanchez’ smile. ‘It was a pleasure.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS ENOUGH. It had to be enough because he didn’t deserve the pleasure she could give him and she didn’t deserve the pain he would inevitably give her. He had to retain his control. She was out of bounds now. Once was a calculated risk. Once more could only be a disaster.

  Antonio walked past the line-up of guests, greeting them as he went, determined to be as focused as ever. He was almost halfway through the continuous schedule of event after event in the festival fortnight. He’d been spared her presence at some occasions. But not this one. At his request she’d been sent an invitation and she had not refused. She was not stupid.

  She wore a black dress that revealed nothing yet managed to imply everything. Her loose hair shone, the reddish strands glinting like threads of fire under the chandeliers. She stole his breath. And that was before she smiled. Or spoke.

  If she spoke, he’d be lost.

  But his desire for her wasn’t the reason why he’d ensured she attend this particular function. It was in her interest to attend. It wasn’t that he was desperate to see her again. He was simply helping her out, because he was in the position to be able to.

  Salvatore Accardi was also a guest at this late afternoon’s drinks, yet Antonio noticed the man didn’t say hello to Bella. He was her father, Antonio was in no doubt of that, yet he didn’t even acknowledge her presence with the politeness you’d afford a stranger. He acted as if she weren’t there. Beyond rude.

  But Bella was working the room with that bulletproof style of hers, refusing to let her father’s ostracism daunt her. Antonio felt like cheering her. He understood social isolation and he didn’t want her to feel the sharp edge of it. She’d done nothing to deserve it. He’d checked her out. Beyond that super-seductive façade, there was nothing. She’d not been caught lying or stealing or cheating...she was a woman—that was all. A woman who couldn’t help who her parents were. A woman he still wanted.

  He caught Matteo’s eye.

  ‘Ensure she’s not left alone,’ Antonio instructed as the aide came over. ‘There are people here it would benefit her to meet and people who might give her a hard time.’

  And then he decided to set the example for everyone. He deliberately walked over to talk to her; it would be too obvious if he didn’t and he refused to be anything like her father.

  ‘It is always a pleasure, Ms Sanchez.’

  She didn’t immediately reply but her eyes narrowed on him.

  She wasn’t appreciative of his efforts?

  His focus changed, arrowing on the electricity arcing between them. He’d made a mistake. He’d thought he’d be lost if she spoke to him, but, really, it had taken only one look.

  ‘It seems you have guests from every sector of San Felipe society here tonight,’ Bella murmured, trying to regulate her racing pulse, but seeing him threw her balance completely. ‘Business leaders, rally drivers, retired politicians...’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Even me.’

  Antonio almost smiled. ‘Why shouldn’t you be here?’

  ‘You know very well why.’ She shifted, restless because of his nearness. ‘You shouldn’t have invited me. Our agreement was once only.’

  She’d been a fool to think once would’ve been enough. The last few days since had been horrendous. And this invitation? It hadn’t been in his hurried scrawl. It had been formal, printed and distant, yet she’d not hesitated for a second. The craving to see him had been too great. She’d applied her lipstick with a shaking hand, she’d been so full of anticipation. Now he was right with her and holding herself back was almost impossible.

  But she hadn’t slept properly in weeks because she’d been getting the club ready and now it was open she was frantically busy and the sleeplessness was affecting her more each day. So she didn’t have the energy to build her defences; she couldn’t control her own heated trembling.

  ‘That wasn’t why I invited you,’ he answered impassively.

  Bella’s blood iced. It wasn’t? Didn’t he want her again? Had that one morning truly been enough for him?

  ‘This is a reception for San Felipe’s most successful local business leaders,’ he continued with his customary distance. ‘You are a businesswoman who’s carving out a brand and a service that has seen unprecedented success already. That’s why you’re here.’

  Rejection and bitterness bruised. ‘To network with people who don’t want my business in their town because I’m some kind of bad influence?’ she asked acidly.

  Salvatore Accardi had been sending hostile waves across the room since she’d walked in.

  She curled her suddenly cold hands into fists. She wanted to leave. To escape Antonio more than anything.

  ‘It’s not like you’re running a brothel,’ Antonio drawled softly enough so only she heard. ‘Entertainment is a large part of what San Felipe offers and you’re drawing in large numbers of younger customers. We don’t want the island to be famous for being the holiday destination of only the old and wealthy.’

  ‘It’s never been that. The old and wealthy men have always had their young and beautiful companions with them on San Felipe,’ she mocked.

  That was what her mother had been for Salvatore Accardi—the nubile young accessory. And in recent years with the two Princes in charge? Beautiful and ambitious and hopeful women had been visiting in droves. Bella was just giving them a place to display themselves.

  Antonio’s eyes gleamed but then he glanced over her shoulder and his expression became as remote as ever.

  ‘You are not out of place here.’ He bowed formally. ‘I hope you enjoy your evening.’

  That was it? No heat? No words with hidden meaning or secret smile? Nothing. Disappointment deepened as he walked away.

  It was all over for him.

  Well, she wasn’t letting him see how that hurt. She’d stay, she’d ‘schmooze’ and show both Salvatore and Antonio she was made of stronger stuff than either of them realised.

  To her surprise it wasn’t dreadful. People talked to her. Complimented her on her past career and asked about the club. She became aware of Salvatore Accardi talking loudly on the other side of the room about the degeneration of inner-city San Felipe, but she wasn’t going to engage. She knew people were watching.

  Antonio was watching. But he needn’t worry, she wasn’t going to cause a scene. Despite what he thought, she’d not chosen to set up her business in San Felipe so she could exact some kind of patricidal revenge on Salvatore. Life wasn�
�t that simple. She’d come here because it was the one place she could. And it was the one place she actually enjoyed being, other than the stage.

  But Salvatore Accardi’s voice was drowned out when a ruddy-cheeked older man arrived late and walked straight over to Prince Antonio and greeted him with an etiquette-breaching booming voice.

  ‘Please pass on my congratulations to your brother Prince Eduardo on the birth of his daughter,’ the man gushed loudly as he beamed at Antonio.

  ‘Thank you.’ Antonio nodded intently, seeming aware of the sudden interest from all those standing near. He lifted his head and spoke clearly. ‘It is very exciting for us. I am informed she’s very determined to maintain her own schedule and refuses to fall in with her parents’ request that she sleep at night.’ He paused as everyone chuckled, a small smile lightening his features. ‘So I am confident she will make a wonderfully stubborn Crown Princess in the future.’

  There was the tiniest silence before a woman ventured another question.

  ‘Will we get to meet the little Princess soon?’

  Antonio’s expression tightened and he paused before replying. ‘Princess Sapphire is very young and this time in her life is very precious and private for her parents. I’m sure you’ll all agree.’ He softened his words with another glimmer of that rare smile and absolutely everyone in the vicinity completely agreed.

  But Bella watched as that small smile faded from his eyes and her heart smote. With masterful PR skills, he’d offered just a hint of something personal about the new baby Princess to satisfy public curiosity while protecting her privacy. But at the same time his words had underlined his own abdication from any family or personal life of his own. He had no intention or desire to marry and provide an heir of his own. His niece would one day take the throne.

  Until then he would be alone. Because he was the Heartbroken Prince.

  Her heart thumping unaccountably quickly, Bella turned towards a waiter to ask for a glass of sparkling water. But as she turned her gaze hit upon the man who didn’t just deny his role in her existence, but who’d chosen to denigrate and torment her mother and her.

  Salvatore Accardi was looking right at her with such undisguised loathing she stumbled. Her lungs malfunctioned. She straightened but couldn’t turn away.

  Salvatore Accardi could. With a final condescending appraisal, he muttered something indecipherable to the person next to him and deliberately turned his back on her.

  It was the most public of rejections and yet probably—hopefully—no one would have noticed.

  Except she’d noticed and she was so humiliated that not even years of experience controlling her emotions as she faced huge crowds could help her stop the blush from spreading like a sudden rash over her skin. She glanced at others in the group, unable to resist the curiosity—had anyone seen?

  The person who stood next to Salvatore, a tall brunette, was staring. Her half-sister. Francesca. Beautiful and—with the way she too then turned her back—every inch her father’s daughter.

  Bella finally found the power to move. She walked almost blindly from the room. She didn’t want to talk business and she definitely didn’t want to banter or flirt or be Bella.

  ‘Ms Sanchez.’

  Bella blinked and paused. Matteo had materialised beside her looking bland, but he spoke with gentle courtesy.

  ‘I thought I would introduce you to Tomas Mancini. He owns the island’s most popular Michelin-starred restaurant here on San Felipe. He owns several others too, in mainland Europe.’

  His lengthy explanation gave her a chance to breathe and as he slowly walked her to the other end of the vast reception room she had time to pull herself together properly.

  Tomas was about seventy, accompanied by his elegant wife, also around seventy years old, and they were both charming, both talkative and standing with them was somehow soothing. She stood with her back to the rest of the room, relieved of feeling the pressure of vindictive, prying eyes.

  ‘Tomas started out as a firefighter, you know. He was based at the station you have refurbished as your club,’ Tomas’ wife, Maria, informed her. ‘That’s when I met him. He rescued me, you know.’

  ‘Did he?’ Bella was diverted. ‘From a fire?’

  ‘A fire alarm. There was no danger but I was mortified.’ Maria nodded in all seriousness. ‘But I like to think of young people having fun there now.’ She paused for a second then added quietly, ‘I had fun there once.’

  There was nothing in her tone, but Bella looked sharply into the older woman’s eyes. There was the veriest hint of a wink. Bella finally smiled.

  ‘Maria, Carlo has just arrived.’ Tomas turned to Bella. ‘He was our first chef who moved to an outer island to open a satellite restaurant for us last year. Would you like to join us?’

  ‘Thank you, I will shortly,’ she said, wanting to give them a chance to have some time alone with their friend. ‘I’ll freshen up first and then find you.’

  ‘If you’ll accompany me, I’ll show you the way.’ Matteo stepped alongside her again.

  Bella glanced at him in surprise; she’d thought he’d been called away.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, quietly appreciative of the way he walked between her and the group that Salvatore and Francesca stood in. Salvatore’s voice still carried; she couldn’t hear the words but just the tone oozed arrogance.

  ‘It is in here.’ Matteo paused by a discreet door out in the long corridor.

  Bella stepped inside, drawing in a deep breath, but as she closed the door behind her someone loomed right in front of her. Just as she was about to scream she realised who it was.

  ‘You gave me such a fright.’ She clapped her hand on her chest, almost needing to thump it to get her heart started again.

  Antonio stood a breath away, his customary reserved expression incinerated by the raw need in his eyes. But he said nothing.

  Now her hurt heart raced—sending anticipation and hunger sparking around every one of her cells.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ She licked her dried lips and watched that need in his eyes burn all the more intensely.

  ‘I need to see you again. Alone. Tonight.’

  Relief hit her like a tornado, blowing the roof off her tension. She released her breath in a shaky sigh. But just as relief hit, so did the impossibility of what he was saying. ‘We can’t—’

  ‘Not now, no,’ he agreed. But that didn’t stop him taking the step nearer so he could pull her against him.

  His hand smoothed down her back, as if he were trying to soothe her, but she felt the rigidity of his body and realised how tightly he was coiled. She rested her head against his shoulder, stifling her groan of sheer relief.

  ‘I’m sorry I used Matteo again,’ he muttered against her hair. ‘But there are too many people—’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she interrupted. ‘I understand.’

  She understood he was lonely and that for whatever reason he wanted her to help him find physical release. That was okay; she wanted him for the same.

  They were both hurt and lonely.

  She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him, willing to accept however it had to be, as long as it could happen again. Just the once more.

  ‘Bella.’

  She barely had a chance to hear his strained mutter before his lips were on hers.

  Passion burst free at first chance. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wriggling closer for more heavenly contact. His arms tightened, lifting her clear off her feet, and she moaned. She never wanted this kiss to end. Always he made her feel so good, filling her with that incomparable bliss. Dangerously addictive and too good to deny. She rocked against him, using her body to blatantly offer him everything. Right here. Right now. She was beyond caring.

  ‘Bella, we can’t,’ he muttered.

  ‘We can,’ she pleaded. ‘Just quickly. So quick.’

  He touched her, growling between his teeth as he felt her readiness. ‘Without protection?�
�

  She bit back her own moan and vehemently shook her head. ‘You think I’d ever make the same mistake as my mother? Contraception is covered.’

  He stared at her another second and then crushed her mouth with his. The kiss was nothing but raw frustration. But then he tore from her—lifting his head to look down at her, holding her in place so she couldn’t rub against him any more. She felt his tension morphing back to that impenetrable self-control. He had no intention of having his way with her here and now.

  The disappointment was appallingly deep. Again.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said.

  She melted. His completely. But she made herself pull back and stand on her own two feet. ‘I’d better get back out there,’ she replied, determined to be as strong as he.

  ‘You’d better redo your lipstick first,’ he replied, flashing a wicked smile.

  ‘And you’d better remove it.’ She eyed his pristine white collar meaningfully. ‘Before you end up wearing more.’

  His hands loosened from her waist and he stepped further into the beautiful powder room, allowing her space. ‘I’m sorry Salvatore Accardi is here tonight. He is too loud.’

  Bella shrugged as she opened up her small evening purse and stepped forward to check her make-up in the gold-framed mirror. Her fingers shook.

  ‘Does he ever talk to you?’ Antonio watched her carefully restore the glossy sheen to her lips.

  ‘He only talks about me.’ She grimaced at her reflection. ‘He thinks all I want is money from him.’

  ‘And do you?’

  She turned and sent him a sharp glance. ‘I’d rather starve.’

  ‘I saw him look at you. Then blank you,’ Antonio said.

  Embarrassment burned through her again and she turned away, wishing Antonio couldn’t still see her face in the mirror. ‘The most cordial we’ve been in years.’

  ‘Don’t try to make light of it.’

  ‘He doesn’t hurt me.’