‘Don’t lie to me,’ he said softly. ‘Go ahead and give him a hard time. Just don’t make a mess.’
She added a last swipe of gloss. ‘I’m not here to give him a hard time. I want nothing to do with him. I don’t care what he thinks or says or does.’
Antonio was silent a moment. ‘I will make arrangements for tonight.’
She put her lipstick back in her small purse and then turned. ‘I will deal only with you and Matteo. No one else.’ But she would give him that.
‘Thank you.’ He cupped her face and gazed down at her for a long moment, as if reading her thoughts. But he resisted her silent request to kiss her again.
‘I must go now,’ he said apologetically and then swiftly left the room via another door.
Bella turned back to her reflection and tried to think calm thoughts to reduce the telltale colour in her cheeks. But flickers of excitement shot through her veins. She wanted him again. Couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to him or herself.
Maybe that made her his concubine. But she would take nothing else from him. Not a penny, a dress or a jewel, not a thing. And she was not his friend. Only his lover. And only for one more night.
CHAPTER SIX
THE HOURS THAT night stretched for ever. For the first time since she’d opened the club, she couldn’t wait to close it. As soon as she’d seen off the last of her employees, she stood in the doorway. It was still dark, but in another hour or so the sky would lighten and the sun rise. A black car slowly cruised down the street towards her. Unmarked but opulent, it pulled in just by the main door, parking illegally. The driver’s tinted window wound down a couple of inches. She’d expected Matteo, but it was Antonio.
Quickly she stepped forward and got into the passenger seat. He pulled away in seconds. She couldn’t help but glance along the street, nervous that someone would have seen them. But the road was empty.
Silently he steered towards the very heart of San Felipe.
‘You can actually drive?’ She tried to make conversation with a tease, but her throat was dry and her voice tight.
‘I am allowed, occasionally,’ he replied in his formal way, but then he smiled. ‘Ready?’
The giant gate before them opened without him hitting a button. She didn’t see any guards or any officials as she stepped out in the internal garage that was bigger than the average-sized house and was filled with eye-wateringly expensive cars.
‘This is the palace.’ She whispered the obvious as he led her into the wide hallway. Even with the dim night lighting she could see the gilt-edged paintings lining the walls, the pedestals with priceless sculptures and the glass cabinets filled with antiquities and artefacts.
Her heart hammered. She’d never expected him to bring her to the palace. Wasn’t it too risky?
The imposing building was incredibly silent and huge and she was paranoid there were security cameras everywhere snapping her with him.
‘I know,’ he whispered back. ‘I want the comfort of my own bed.’
‘But—’
‘Be quiet.’ He turned and quickly kissed her for emphasis. ‘Someone might hear,’ he whispered, then took her hand and led her through the maze.
Surprised, she glanced at him and saw the mischievous grin on his face.
He was Antonio, the ultra-serious Crown Prince, wasn’t he? He owned this oversized, unbelievably opulent place and yet here he was sneaking around like a teenager.
He led her up some stairs, then more stairs and long corridors and finally came to a set of doors on the third or fourth floor—she’d lost count. He opened them and hung back to let her walk in first.
‘This is your private apartment?’ she asked, knowing the answer anyway, but feeling as if she needed to say something.
When he’d closed the doors she turned to face him. But that gorgeous, elusive smile had faded and his expression was even more closed off than usual. Did he feel as awkward as she?
‘When did you last have a...guest up here?’ she asked.
That brought his smile back but he remained silent.
‘You’re just trying to make me feel special,’ she joked lightly.
‘You are special.’
She walked around the large room, mainly to hide the blush she could feel heating her cheeks. He didn’t mean anything by it, but the gentle flirt was nice.
His apartment was a masterpiece of elegant understatement, the decor minimalist compared to the multitude of treasures in the cabinets lining the corridors. But it was so impersonal it made her heart ache for him again. Even she, with few truly personal possessions, had put her own stamp on her room. She had the flowers she loved to get from the early morning market, she had a small print from Paris to remind her of happier times with her mother, she had the ballerina jewellery box she’d won in her first ballet competition when she was barely five and had treasured ever since. But Antonio had a beautifully styled masculine lounge with nothing obviously personal that she could note. There were no paintings on the walls and no photos at all—not of him and his family and none of Alessia—which relieved her in one way, yet saddened her in another.
She turned to face him again and found he’d been slowly following her. Now he was only a pace away.
‘You want to see all my rooms?’ he asked, something veiled in his expression.
‘I want to see everything,’ she replied before thinking. She was so much more curious than she ought to be.
‘There’s not really that much to see.’
Well, there was beauty and incredible design and craftsmanship, but she wasn’t here to admire an art gallery and she didn’t want to treat him or his home as a museum exhibit. That was what his life must be like all the time and she wanted to understand more about him.
That was when she realised his place didn’t matter; it was the person before her who held all the clues. If she wanted to understand him at all, she needed only to spend time with him. But they had only now. She gazed into his unfathomable eyes and wished she knew how to make him smile.
‘I thought you wanted to see everything?’ he finally prompted her.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Now I just want...’ Her words faltered.
He took the last step towards her. ‘Me.’
She nodded. ‘Just you.’
She wanted to focus wholly on him, but they weren’t here to talk. This was a clandestine convenience. A risky, stolen moment. Her heart tripped and thudded too fast. She waited, anticipating that burst of passion. They probably still wouldn’t make it to his bed.
But he didn’t kiss her. He took her by the hand. ‘Let me show you one thing.’ He walked down the hallway and opened the furthest door, waiting for her to walk in ahead of him.
‘What’s in here?’ She summoned a tease. ‘Your hidden den of iniquity?’
She walked in without waiting for an answer and stopped in surprise.
The room was large, its floor-to-ceiling windows protected by billowing drapes, protecting his privacy yet allowing the citrus-scented summer air to perfume the room. It was all but empty. Bella drank in the large expanse of polished wooden floor. And in the corner was a baby grand piano.
‘You have your own dance studio?’ That floor was begging to be danced on.
‘Music room,’ he corrected with a laugh.
‘You’re a musician?’ She turned to look at him.
‘You’re surprised.’ His rare smile flashed and stayed.
‘You never seem to do anything other than serious “prince” things.’
‘I appreciate many things. But especially music.’ He walked over to the piano. ‘It relaxes me. As dancing relaxes you.’
She was delighted to discover this and that he’d shared it with her. And she wanted him to share more. ‘So will you play for me?’
He raised his brows at her.
‘Please.’
‘It would be my pleasure.’ He sat down at the stool.
Bella crossed the floor and rested her hand o
n the smooth, glossy wood of the piano. It was beautiful to touch and she bet it would be an amazing sound. He glanced up at her for a moment then looked down to the keys. Intrigued, Bella leaned closer.
He began. After only a moment, Bella froze, unsure of how to react. He’d chosen an elementary piece and was literally banging it out. Two fingers smashed down on the wrong notes. He hit so many wrong notes, and it was so loud, Bella didn’t know where to look. But then a wicked smile spread over his face and his hand positioning changed. The melody changed. Everything changed.
‘You tease.’ She laughed, relieved, and moved closer to watch. He shifted on the piano stool, straightening.
‘The look on your face.’ He chuckled as he played, beautifully.
‘Who knew solemn Prince Antonio would be a prankster?’ She leaned over his shoulder, letting her hair brush against his cheek, aiming to distract him and make him hit a wrong note for real this time.
‘You didn’t know what to say.’ He stopped playing and reached up to hold her in place near him, turning his head to press a kiss to her cheek. ‘I was lowering your expectations. Now you think I’m better than I actually am...’
She pulled back to read his expression. ‘My assessment of your performance matters to you that much?’ She never would have thought he’d care.
‘I’ve never played for anyone else.’ He shrugged and glanced back to the black and white keys.
‘I’m honoured.’ And she was touched, that warmth in her soul that he’d let her into his secret life, just a little.
‘Dance for me,’ he softly requested as he began another piece. ‘The way you were that morning I spied on you.’
‘Okay.’ Her heat soaring, she kissed his cheek in the lightest of caresses and stepped away from the piano. ‘Barefoot, okay?’ She kicked off her shoes.
‘Don’t feel the need to stop there.’ He sent her a wicked look. ‘Naked would be amazing.’
She laughed, pleased at his emerging playfulness. ‘I never dance this way for just anyone, you know.’
He nodded, all seriousness again. ‘I do know.’
She laughed again at the arrogance implicit in his reply but her heart fluttered, enjoying the lightness and liberty to just be with him.
He’d chosen a romantic melody and it was so easy to let go and lose herself in the streaming beauty of it. Smiling, she stretched her arms wide and simply moved, not showing any fancy steps, not needing to prove anything to him.
That was the thing, with him—physically, at least, she could simply enjoy the sensations, the moment. And now, the music.
But as the melody worked towards its crescendo she couldn’t help looking at him to gauge his reaction. Her gaze meshed with his and was caught fast. His magnetism pulled her nearer. As the music grew softer, she danced closer. Softer and closer still until, as the last note died away, she slipped between the piano and him. He leaned back to let her straddle his muscular thighs. That wicked smile curved his lips and he began to play another piece, a teasing glint warming his ice-blue eyes.
She decided two could tease. She bent close and poured all the radiance she felt into her kiss. The notes of the piano continued to sound for only a moment. Then his magic fingers began to play her and she was so very glad she’d worn a dress.
He slipped the soft fabric up her thighs, exposing her to his touch. She wriggled and he slipped the silk right over her head.
‘Antonio,’ she breathed softly, so hot for him already.
‘At your service,’ he promised, leaning forward to kiss the crest of her breasts. ‘I’m wondering if I can make you sound as good as my piano.’
‘Play me and see.’
‘I can already see,’ he muttered in a pleased tone.
She felt his hardness beneath her and ached to free him from his clothing. She reached for him.
‘Nu huh.’ He shifted her above him with a laugh. ‘I’m playing you, remember?’
‘I was going for some harmony. Accompaniment.’ She needed him with her. In her. Like now.
‘Soon.’ He soothed her with a kiss.
‘No. Now.’ She kissed him hard.
But he was ruthless. Relentless. He caressed, kissed, rubbed. Hard then soft, changing his stroke and rhythm, tormenting her until she banged the damn piano keys herself, trying to hurry him to get him to take her. When he finally relented and let her reach her release, she screamed long and loud until she slumped into his arms with a sigh.
‘I can’t take any more,’ she begged. ‘I need you. Please.’
He clasped her tightly and carried her through to another room. He set her on her feet and stood back from her.
‘Take me, then,’ he invited.
She noticed nothing at all about his bedroom. She was only focused on him. But he had to help her strip him out of his clothes. She was too frantic, too needy to get her fingers to work properly.
‘Condoms. Pocket,’ he muttered roughly.
She retrieved one and with a small smile set about ensuring he was sheathed. She took her time and used her mouth as much as her hands and when she’d finally finished he was swearing in a continuous stream beneath his breath.
She laughed and pushed him so he fell back on the bed. But the moment she knelt on the expansive mattress to join him he moved, as quick and powerful as a panther catching his prey. She rolled, letting him, welcoming him. She couldn’t wait a second longer anyway.
‘Hurry,’ she called to him. ‘Please.’
But he paused and smiled down at her and she knew what that wicked, gleaming smile meant.
Sheer, delightful torture.
‘You’re not going to do this fast, are you?’ She shivered as her body geared up for more of his teasing onslaught.
He angled his head as if considering the plea in her words. ‘It might end up that way. Eventually.’
She licked her lips and ran her hand down his rock-hard abs. ‘I’m willing to fight dirty.’ She’d do whatever she could to make him claim her sooner rather than later.
That challenge sharpened the edge in his expression. ‘Go ahead, darling, do your worst. I intend to fight dirtier.’
Oh, Lord, she was in trouble. She yelped in laughter as he tugged her further up the mattress so he could claim the part of her most begging for his attention again.
And then she just gave in to his desire to see her soar again. He might be reserved, but when he was fully focused on her—it was wicked heaven.
That magical hour later she smiled as he lay sprawled, sweat slicked and breathless, at the opposite end of the bed. The coverings were on the floor, the dawn light warmed the room and she’d never been as relaxed in her life. And she’d never felt as close to anyone else either. Not just physically, but it was as if she was in tune with him and they’d made the most beautiful music together.
He rested his head on his hand and ran a finger along the jagged red scar than ran down her shin and to her ankle. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘No. It just tickles,’ she murmured.
‘What happened?’
‘Glass in my shoe.’ She stretched her foot languorously, unutterably relaxed.
He frowned. ‘Glass?’
‘In my pointe shoe,’ she explained briefly. ‘Not much. I didn’t feel it until I was partway through the performance. But, you know, the show must go on.’
He shifted down to her foot and inspected her toes.
‘Don’t.’ She tried to curl them away because they were so ugly and now she was self-conscious and regretted telling him that much.
‘You kept dancing?’ He released her foot and she pulled her legs from his reach.
‘Of course. When you’re in the zone, you feel invincible. You don’t notice until it’s almost too late. At first I thought it was just a bad blister or something. In the end I fell and landed badly and broke my ankle and shin.’
And when she’d looked later, there’d been blood seeping through her pointe shoe. The cut had been so deep it had severed ne
rves and the chunk of glass they’d struggled to remove had been viciously jagged.
‘The show went on.’ She shrugged, playing it down with a casual smile. ‘The understudy stepped up. I went to hospital.’
One of the pins they’d put in was still there and during those months in plaster she’d lost flexibility, muscle tone. Confidence.
Everything.
‘There was no way you could build up your strength again?’ he asked. ‘Retrain and get back out there?’
‘Not to the level I want.’ And it had been ruined for her. That someone in her own company had hated her that much to do something so horrific?
She’d thought the company had been her safe haven but she’d been wrong.
So she was determined to be independent now. Any success she had, she would own in its entirety. She wouldn’t be vulnerable by being reliant on anyone else. She had to control her own destiny and haul herself out of any problems alone. It was the lesson her mother had never learned.
‘How did the glass get in your shoe?’ Antonio asked ominously.
She didn’t want to answer but she knew that look in his eye. The wickedness had vanished and he was in ‘ruthless ruler’ mode. She shouldn’t have answered so thoughtlessly in the first place. ‘I guess some people didn’t believe I deserved my position in the company. That I was there because of my profile, not talent. Sex appeal, not technique.’
He looked grim. ‘Did they catch whoever did it?’
‘I didn’t want to cause a scandal and nor did company management.’ Sebastian had asked her not to go to the police, arguing bad press would destroy the company. And she’d had her reasons for agreeing with his request.
‘What?’
She flinched at the fury in Antonio’s tone.
‘I didn’t want people to know I was a victim,’ she defended herself hotly. ‘I didn’t want the world to know I had enemies who’d do something that mean. I didn’t want to show that.’ She hadn’t wanted anyone to know how vulnerable she was. How isolated. So she’d left and played up the party queen. ‘I fell. My leg broke. End of story.’
And she’d trust no one now. Not even a prince.
She reached out and ran her hand over the small silver elephant that she noticed sitting on the nightstand, wanting to distract them both. ‘This is pretty.’
The Mistress That Tamed De Santis Page 9