by Sarah Morgan
‘Matteo …’ She moaned his name and he responded by shifting her under the virile heat of his body.
Their mouths clashed and this time the kiss was crazy, hot and out of control. Dimly, she was aware of him dragging something from his abandoned shirt and then of the brief pause during which she thought her body was going to explode from sheer desperation. She felt the hardness of him against her and had no time to even gasp before he was surging into her, each rhythmic thrust taking him deeper, joining them completely, and it felt so impossibly good that she cried out his name and arched into him. Sensation robbed her of breath. There were things she wanted to say but she couldn’t form the words so she just closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment.
And he knew what he wanted and he took it, took her as she lay beneath him on the grassy track with the sun dappling the earth around them. But she was past caring about her surroundings and so was he and she slid her hands into his hair instinctively, trying to hold on to something solid as her body flew into the storm. He kissed through all of it, held her as her body splintered around his, as each spasm that ripped through her ripped through him until her body robbed his of control.
Weakened by a sheer overload of sensation, Izzy lay beneath him, limp and in shock.
Gradually the world intruded. She became aware of the sweet notes of birdsong, of the hard ground pressing through the thin layer of the towel and of his body, sleek and powerful, still covering hers. And she became aware of the pounding of her own heart and feelings that were new to her. Strong feelings.
‘Matt …’ Some of those feelings seeped into the way she said his name and she instantly regretted that lapse because she felt him tense and knew she’d shattered the moment.
The hand that had been stroking her hair stilled.
When he lifted his head and looked down at her his eyes were veiled.
‘We should probably move,’ he said in a neutral tone. ‘This place is secluded but not exactly secret.’
The sudden thud of disappointment made no sense because a man like him, who had avoided emotional commitment and intimacy for his entire life, wasn’t suddenly going to embrace it after one hot encounter, was he?
Even so, as he sprang to his feet she wanted to drag him back to her, to prolong the moment because it had felt so real, and for that little sliver of time she’d wanted to pretend it was something different.
But the moment had passed and he was the prince again.
He didn’t need bodyguards, Izzy thought numbly, because he’d built a steel cage around himself.
But at least he hadn’t lied to her, she reminded herself as she reached for her bikini. What they’d shared had been honest. He’d made no promises and neither had she. For a moment she thought about Brian and then pushed the thought away. No way was she letting Brian ruin this moment.
Feeling his gaze on her, Izzy slithered back into her bikini and forced herself to be matter-of-fact. ‘Nice … maze.’
A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he dressed swiftly. ‘It has never been used for that purpose before. We should go.’
So that was that then.
A one-night stand. Probably something neither of them would speak of again.
Pondering on the practicalities of outdoor sex, Izzy extracted a leaf from her hair. ‘I expect you want to go back separately.’
He frowned. ‘What would be the point of that?’
‘I thought you were worried about shocking your staff.’
‘My staff can mind their own business. I refuse to creep around my own palazzo and it would be absurd to leave separately when we’re both going to end up in the same place. My bedroom.’
‘Your … bedroom?’
‘You thought we were going to spend the night in the maze?’
‘No! I thought—Never mind.’ The smile spread right through her as she realised that this wasn’t over yet. ‘So what happens now?’
‘You pick up your shoes,’ he drawled, yanking her against him and lowering his mouth to hers. ‘That’s assuming you don’t want to break with tradition and put them on your feet.’
Two weeks later Izzy lay on her stomach on Matteo’s office floor, papers spread out in front of her as she poured over the lyrics for her latest song. It was past midnight and she’d been working since daybreak. Her shoes were abandoned on the floor next to her, along with three empty coffee mugs and the remains of a hastily eaten lunch. ‘I’m excited about this one.’
Matteo lifted his gaze from the computer. ‘You should take a break. You’ve been working on that all day.’
Izzy sat up and stretched out her aching muscles. ‘I don’t see you taking one.’
‘I’m responsible for the success of the concert.’
Looking at him, her stomach flipped. He was so sexy. Every time he walked into the room her knees wobbled. They’d spent two weeks together, recording music, planning the last details of the concert, and she’d been in the thick of it and loving every minute. And when they weren’t working they were having sex. Often and everywhere. In his bedroom, in the maze and on the small private beach that nestled at the bottom of the cliffs that guarded the palazzo. And although she knew that for him their relationship was just physical, for her it had become so much more. But after that first time Izzy had been supremely careful not to even hint at an emotional connection.
‘I heard your demo today.’ He leaned back in his chair, the movement drawing attention to the width of his shoulders. ‘It’s genius. You should have sung your own material on Singing Star.’
‘They wouldn’t let me.’ Izzy glowed. After a decade of being dismissed and diminished at every turn, suddenly she was being appreciated and the high that came from that was something she hadn’t been able to imagine. And if that high was slightly tainted by the fact that he showed no inclination to deepen their personal relationship then she tried to ignore it. ‘I still can’t believe my record went straight to number one or that it’s only two nights until the actual concert.’
‘That record is a major hit, tesoro.’
‘Unbelievable.’ Izzy sat watching him as he finished entering a stack of numbers onto a spreadsheet. ‘You have no idea what these past few weeks have been like for me. No one has ever asked my opinion on anything before,’ she said humbly. ‘I’m used to hearing, “Shut up, Izzy.”’ The fact that he encouraged her to sing at every opportunity made her feel warm inside. And as for the rest of it …
Her eyes met his and she blushed because looking at him always did wild, crazy things to her insides.
‘We’re going to celebrate.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Tomorrow I’m taking you back to the palace.’
Izzy’s heart lifted and flew. He was going to introduce her properly to his parents? ‘Really?’
‘It’s the Annual Rock ‘n’ Royal Ball. A fundraising event that takes place every year the night before the concert. You’re coming as my guest.’
So their celebration wasn’t going to be an intimate evening but a huge, glittering event. Panic set in. ‘It’s a big formal thing?’
‘If you’re worrying about which knife and fork to use then don’t. You’re going to be fine. Just be yourself and everyone will love you.’
Izzy doubted that. People didn’t usually even like her, let alone love her. They sneered and made disparaging comments, and now that she understood just how much the reputation of the royal family mattered to him, she didn’t want him tainted with that. ‘I don’t think it would be a great idea. Everyone would just laugh at me.’
Her comment drew a frown from him. ‘Why would they laugh at you?’
‘Because that’s what they do.’
‘If I see anyone so much as smile at you in a way that doesn’t please me I will knock them into next week.’
‘And how would that help? You don’t need the adverse publicity just before the concert.’ And just thinking of that reminded her of how utterly impossible their relationship was. Even if she
managed to wriggle through the protective force field he’d spun around himself there was still the fact that he was a prince to contend with. Her mood plummeted. ‘And neither do Allegra and Alex.’
‘Stop worrying.’ Dismissing her fears, he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll leave first thing tomorrow so you can pack tonight. I have to talk to Serena about a couple of things.’
Pack what? A red sequin dress that had made her the focus of mockery? A fuchsia bikini?
She knew nothing about dressing for a formal event, but she did know that there wasn’t a thing in her wardrobe that was suitable.
‘What time is our flight?’
He paused on his way out of the door. ‘Whenever I decide it is. It’s my plane.’
And that comment only highlighted the difference between them. ‘I’ve never raised money for anyone. I have no idea what to say or do and I don’t want to mess it up.’ Nor did she want to wear the wrong thing.
Suddenly she wished she’d paid better attention to what the other women were wearing at the engagement party.
She was not going to give anyone reason to gossip or say bad things about her.
Matteo was looking at her in genuine astonishment. ‘It’s just a ball. Enjoy yourself. And afterwards there’s somewhere I want to take you so pack your red sequin dress for later.’ Having issued that instruction he walked out of his office to talk to Serena, and Izzy watched him with a sick feeling in her stomach.
Why would he want her to pack her sequin dress ‘for later’?
Were they going dancing or something?
Or maybe that was his way of tactfully telling her it wasn’t suitable for the main event.
Thinking fast, she pulled her notebook out of her bag and made a list. The moment Matteo went off to take a call she shot in to see Serena. ‘You’re one of those PAs who can do anything, aren’t you?’ Her face scarlet, Izzy slapped a list down on her desk. ‘Any chance you could get me copies of those magazines?’
Serena scanned the list. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. ‘No problem.’
‘And do you happen to know good places to shop? Nothing too expensive but it has to look as if it costs a fortune and absolutely no one else can be wearing it.’
Serena’s eyes widened in surprise and then she gave a warm smile. ‘I know the perfect place. I’ll ask Matteo’s driver to take you there. But I’m sure if you mentioned it to Matteo, he’d—’
‘No thanks,’ Izzy said fiercely, ‘I can buy it myself but I don’t know what to buy and that’s why I need all those magazines. I have some serious homework to do.’
Serena glanced at the list. ‘Homework? I assumed you were just a lover of women’s fashion magazines.’
‘I need to see how other people look.’ Izzy fumbled in her bag and put some money on the desk. ‘That should cover it. And now I have to go and work. My Goal of the Day is to make myself stylish. I have a feeling it’s going to take some work.’
Twenty-four hours later Matteo paced the length of his private apartment at the palace for the tenth time and glanced impatiently towards the closed door of the master bedroom.
What could be taking her so long?
If she didn’t get a move on, the guests would be greeting themselves.
How long did it take one woman to pull on a dress?
Accustomed to women whose life objective appeared to be gaining access to his credit card, it had come as a surprise when Izzy had refused to let him fund her shopping trip. Even when he’d pointed out that he was the reason she needed to go shopping, she’d shaken her head.
As someone who was rigidly punctual, Matteo was about to stride into the bedroom and dress her himself when the door opened slowly.
‘Sorry I took so long. I’ve never tried to pin my hair up before. It kept falling down and then I couldn’t see what the back looked like. Complete nightmare.’ She reminded him of a doe emerging from the cover of trees, waiting to be eaten.
She looked stunning, but it wasn’t her appearance that knocked him off balance; it was his reaction to her obvious vulnerability. Discovering a powerful protective streak he hadn’t known he possessed, Matteo tensed. ‘We should go. We are extremely late.’
‘You’re telling me I look awful.’ Her face fell and the exasperation he felt towards his own reaction somehow became directed at her.
‘No, I’m telling you we’re going to be late!’
‘But you’re thinking I look awful.’
Matteo breathed deeply. What he was actually thinking was that if there was one thing all women had in common it was an obsessive wish to dissect the contents of a man’s mind. ‘I’m not thinking anything except how to get you downstairs quickly,’ he lied. ‘Here’s an insider tip—if a man tells you he’s thinking nothing then he’s genuinely thinking nothing. Men are not like women.’
‘And here’s another insider tip—’ her voice was high-pitched ‘—when a woman has spent two hours getting ready for an event she’s dreading it’s a good idea to say something positive!’
Matteo stilled. ‘You’re dreading it?’
‘I already told you that.’
‘Then why are you doing it?’
‘Because you asked me to! Now can we just go and get it over with?’
Because you asked me to.
Trying not to think about what emotion might drive someone to make that sacrifice, he made a belated attempt to smooth things over. ‘You look stunning.’
‘Too late. A compliment is meaningless if you have to be tortured before you say it.’ Without looking at him, she stalked towards the door.
‘You are completely overreacting!’ But he knew that he was entirely responsible for the sudden tension between them and the guilt intensified his dark mood. Trying to redeem the situation before a private disagreement became a public one, Matteo scanned the elegant cobalt sheath that curved into her waist and flared at the floor. ‘Truly, the dress is perfect, tesoro. Obviously you had a highly successful shopping trip.’
‘Actually, it wasn’t that successful. I started off in a couple of designer stores, but I have boobs and a bum which makes it hard to find anything that looks good.’ Her knuckles were white as she clutched her purse tightly. ‘A sales assistant told me in a very snooty voice that all the designer dresses look best on women whose bodies don’t interrupt the flow of the clothes. Evidently that’s not me. It feels nice on, but it isn’t by anyone famous or anything so doubtless there will be some fun headlines about that tomorrow. Can we just go? Honestly, the anticipation is worse than the reality, or at least I hope it is.’
Matteo realised just how much he was asking of her, inviting her as his guest to such a high-profile function.
‘Izzy—’
‘Please don’t say anything else.’ She pulled open the door and stalked out of the apartment even though she had no idea where she was going. ‘Let’s just get through this.’
Accustomed to women who thrived on events like this one, Matteo made a rapid adjustment and steered her towards a private elevator.
As the doors closed, offering them privacy, he reached into his pocket. ‘This is for you.’
She stared at the slim box in his hand. ‘So now you’re trying to buy your way out of trouble?’
‘I bought this before I got myself into trouble,’ he drawled. ‘It’s a gift.’
‘Why would you buy me a gift?’
Already struggling with his own behaviour, Matteo decided he didn’t want to think about why. Instead he flipped open the box. ‘I hope you like it.’
She gasped. ‘Oh—’
‘It’s a daisy chain. The petals are platinum and the centres are diamonds. Hopefully it will last longer than the real thing.’
She didn’t speak and he frowned.
‘Now what’s wrong?’
‘You had this in your pocket the whole time?’
‘Yes. I intended to give it to you earlier but you took a long time to get ready, which is fine,’ Matteo said
hastily, intercepting her warning glance, ‘because the end result was definitely worth the wait. You really are stunning.’
‘You chose this for me and it’s the most perfect thing anyone has ever given me. And I’ve been so snappy,’ she wailed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise for something that was my fault.’ Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, Matteo felt a flash of panic. Focusing on the practical, he fastened the necklace and then the matching bracelet. ‘It looks pretty on you. Do you like it?’
‘Love.’ She touched her throat. ‘Love, not like.’
Matteo had never found the elevator so stuffy. ‘It’s a congratulations present,’ he said smoothly, ‘and a thank-you for the work you did on the song.’
Her gaze held his for a moment and then she gave a wry smile. ‘Chill, Your Highness. It’s the necklace I love, not you. Shall we go?’
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS like trying to tame a tiger.
He’d existed on his own for so long that even the thought of allowing someone close made him dangerous.
He’d given her a stunning present and then proceeded to virtually bolt from the elevator to escape her thanks. He was programmed to respond to the word love the way most people respond to fire. Alarms went off around him and evoked an immediate evacuation of the area.
Her brain ached with the complexity of handling their relationship.
And as if she didn’t have enough to think about, now she was expected to pose for photographs on the steps of the palace before the ball started.
‘Paparazzi photo call,’ she quipped, ‘otherwise known as feeding time at the zoo.’
He shot her a warning glance as the doors were opened. ‘Don’t speak. They can read lips.’
Izzy pinned a smile on her face and hoped they couldn’t read minds or the headlines were going to be interesting.
They stepped onto the steps at the front of the palace and Matteo closed his hand over hers as what felt like a million flashlights exploded.
‘Smile,’ he ordered in an undertone, so she dutifully smiled and gripped his hand so hard she was sure he’d have permanent indentations from the pressure of her nails on his flesh. And tonight he was very much the prince, cool and in control as he fielded the hoard of paparazzi and public eager for a glimpse of him.