by Sarah Morgan
With a frown, Alessandro eased himself out of bed and limped across to her. For the first time in weeks the movement didn’t leave him in agony.
He was healing.
Soon the cast should be off and he could begin intensive physio. He’d no longer need a nurse, which was just as well because he knew that Tasha had short-listed at least three jobs and she’d told him that she intended to get her applications off shortly.
And he had some big decisions to make.
‘What are you doing out here?’ Screwing up his face against the rain, he realised that she was wearing nothing but one of his shirts. ‘It isn’t exactly Mediterranean weather. Your climate sucks.’
She shrugged him off. ‘Go back to bed, Alessandro.’
Hearing the ice in her tone, Alessandro stilled. Underneath the soaked shirt, her shoulders were stiff. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer and then she turned sharply, her hair swinging around her shoulders, her eyes fierce. ‘Why the hell are we doing this? I mean—what are we doing?’
The question was so unexpected that for a moment he didn’t answer.
Programmed to recognise trouble when he saw it, Alessandro chose to keep it light. ‘Standing on a draughty balcony in a howling wind and a thunderous rainstorm. We’ll probably catch pneumonia. I suggest you come back inside while there’s still a chance we’ll live.’
‘I don’t want to go back inside.’ She turned away from him. ‘Just go back to bed, Alessandro.’
The storm of emotion he sensed in her was greater than the one swirling around them.
‘Tell me why you’re upset.’
‘Why would you even care? You’ve never felt anything for a woman in your life, remember?’ She threw the remark back at him and he flinched.
‘That was just banter with your brother.’
‘No, it wasn’t. It was the truth. You never have felt anything for a woman in your life. Why do men do that?’ She reached up and pushed her sodden hair out of her eyes. ‘I mean, what is so cool about staying single and not committing?’
Alessandro stilled. ‘You tell me. You’re single. And I haven’t seen you making a commitment.’
Her eyes flew to his and then she turned away. ‘Just ignore me. I don’t know what’s wrong—it’s just this thing that’s happening between Josh and Megan.’
He knew a lie when he heard one.
Josh had been right, Alessandro thought grimly, when he’d said that his sister wasn’t capable of not becoming emotionally involved.
Gently, he closed his hands over her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Tash, look at me.’
She glared at him fiercely and tried to pull out of his grip. ‘Just go back to bed. I’ll be fine.’
‘We’re going to talk about this.’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘At least tell me if this is about us or Josh?’
‘I’m worried about him.’ She was rigid and tense and then the next moment she leaned against him and buried her face in his chest. ‘I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so big and tough. Nothing bothers him. There’s nothing he can’t handle. But tonight he looked really … defeated.’
Alessandro hesitated and then stroked his hand over her head. ‘You’re right that he’s big and tough. He’ll handle it.’
‘The truth is, I don’t think he’s ever really been in love before. But with Megan—it’s real, Sandro. He really loves her. And she really loves him. Did you see his face when he told us Rebecca is pregnant? What a mess. What a complete and utter mess. When two people love each other that much, they should be together, no matter what the obstacles.’
He wondered if she realised what she was saying.
Feeling cold, Alessandro folded his arms around her and held her close, ignoring the rain that trickled down the back of his neck. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, her body felt warm and soft. And vulnerable.
She might talk blithely about sex without commitment, but she wanted love to exist.
She wanted it badly.
He gave a shiver.
He’d kidded himself that their relationship could be superficial. That both of them could walk away. But Tasha didn’t do superficial, did she? Whatever she said to the contrary, she wanted the whole fairy-tale, just as she had as an idealistic teenager. Maybe she didn’t even realise it herself, but it was perfectly obvious to him.
‘Don’t worry about Josh. He’ll sort it out.’
‘How can he? The woman he’s about to divorce is having his child and there’s no way Josh would ever leave his child. Never. Not after what happened to us as kids.’ She lifted her hands to her face and he realised that the raindrops were mingling with her tears.
‘Don’t cry.’ For some reason her tears disturbed him more than the realisation that she hadn’t changed. Tasha wasn’t a crier. ‘Damn it, Tash—don’t cry.’
‘Sorry.’ Her voice was thickened as she scrubbed at her face with her hand, ‘I’m really sorry, but I love my brother and I hate to see him in this situation. He should be with Megan but I know Josh will never divorce Rebecca now she’s pregnant. And she knows that.’ She sniffed. ‘That’s why she did it. I know Josh is to blame too, but why would any woman want to have a baby with a man who doesn’t love her? And quite honestly I don’t think she loves him either. She just likes the idea of being married to a doctor. I just don’t get it.’
Cold spread through his body as he thought of his own parents. ‘A loveless marriage isn’t exactly a rare occurrence, tesoro. People marry for many different reasons.’
Like political convenience.
‘But what about the child? When Dad left …’ her breathing was jerky ‘… I thought it was all my fault. I assumed I’d done something. Parents splitting up, parents who don’t want to be together—it’s the pits. I know Josh will love that child, I know he will. But if he doesn’t love Rebecca and she doesn’t love him …’ She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with anxiety. ‘That can’t be good, can it? My parents split up and look how screwed up I am. And yours stayed together and you’re screwed up, too.’
Alessandro gave a humourless laugh. ‘Thanks.’
‘All right, maybe you’re not screwed up exactly, but you don’t let yourself get close to a woman, which is sort of the same thing.’
‘You and I have been pretty close lately.’
‘Physically,’ she mumbled. ‘And we were thrown together by circumstances. I don’t want to talk about us. I want to talk about Josh. I want to wave a magic wand.’
Alessandro smoothed her hair away from her face. ‘Josh has to work this out, tesoro. You can’t do it for him.’
‘I want him to be with Megan.’ Her voice was desperate. ‘You say they met all those years ago and it was special—think of all the time they’ve already wasted. They should be together for ever.’
For ever.
The words chilled him to the bone more effectively than either the wind or the rain. Alessandro took her hand. ‘Let’s go back inside.’
Tasha stood under the shower, waiting for the hot needles of water to warm her numb skin. She hadn’t realised how cold she’d become, standing on the terrace while the rain sheeted down. She was freezing.
And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d made a total fool of herself.
All that talk of love and happy-ever-afters. It was a wonder Alessandro hadn’t freaked out and tossed her off the balcony.
She needed to redeem herself fast. Salvage her pride before it ended up in a disorderly heap like last time.
Turning off the shower, she wrapped herself in a warm towel and walked through to the bedroom.
Crossing her legs on the bed, she switched on her laptop, intending to continue her search for jobs. But the moment the search engine appeared on the screen, she found herself typing in ‘Prince Alessandro of San Savarre'.
Glancing quickly towards the door, she checked that Alessan
dro was still occupied making hot drinks in the kitchen, then clicked the search button.
‘Great,’ she muttered. ‘Over six million results. What on earth is he doing with you, Tasha?’
But the answer to that was all too obvious. He was enjoying convenient sex while he was trapped in Cornwall. Soon he’d be back to his old life, playing polo and presiding over state occasions.
She ignored all the references to his role as Crown Prince and instead clicked on a result that said ‘Sporting Legend'.
As she read, she realised how little she knew him.
He was a top polo player. One of the best in the world, with the potential to be the best in the world.
Tasha scrolled down the other results.
The Prince of Polo.
Alessandro the Great.
As she scanned the articles, the same words were repeated over and over again—'exceptional', ‘the best', ‘generous'. No wonder his injuries had been so frustrating for him. He was an athlete at the top of his game.
Absently, she scrolled down and clicked on another article hinting at trouble at the palace—the Princess, his mother, had expressed her disapproval at her son’s sporting endeavours and insisted that he spend more time at home on royal duties.
Frowning, she clicked on an image of him accepting a cup for his team. He looked bronzed and handsome, his eyes burning with the fire of achievement.
Everyone was in agreement that the wild prince of San Savarre had astonishing talent.
Talent that he wasn’t allowed to use.
Clicking again, she stared at a picture of him at a charity ball, dressed in a black dinner jacket with a tall, slender blonde on his arm. This time the caption read, ‘Prince or Playboy? Will Alessandro of San Savarre ever settle down? ‘
Her stomach ached.
They looked perfect together.
Regal. The only thing that spoilt the picture was the expression on Alessandro’s face. There was no missing the adoration in the woman’s eyes but he looked bored and desperate, as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
I’ve never felt anything for a woman in my life.
Tasha stared at the image on the screen and then glanced at the name of the woman.
Miranda.
She relaxed slightly. Wasn’t Miranda the woman who had been engaged to his brother?
Tasha cursed herself for even caring. She knew only too well what a heartbreaker he was, didn’t she? No woman held his attention for more than five minutes. It probably didn’t help that he’d been fed a diet of female adoration from his cradle.
He wanted her now, but she didn’t fool herself that he would want her once the cast was off his leg and they were no longer trapped together in this small, safe world they’d created.
Panic rushed through her.
She wasn’t going to do that again. She wasn’t going to jeopardise her career for a relationship.
Still fiddling, she followed another link and saw images of a car wreck.
Apart from his tension in her car the other day, his feelings about the accident were something he didn’t reveal. And yet it had changed everything for him.
According to the report, his brother had been alone in the car the night of the crash.
Tasha was still puzzling over that when she heard his footsteps. Quickly she exited the site and deleted the search history. No way did she want him knowing she was looking him up. That would be beyond embarrassing and she’d already embarrassed herself enough with all that talk of love and soul mates.
‘I made hot chocolate. I thought you needed warming up.’ Alessandro hobbled up to her. ‘Are you job-hunting again? I thought you already had interviews lined up.’
‘I was just playing around. Thanks for the chocolate. How did you make it with one hand?’
‘I can do a lot of things with one hand. Want me to show you?’
‘Not right now.’ Shaken by a flare of sexual awareness, she flipped the laptop shut and put it on the bed. ‘I need to have a serious think about jobs. After all, you have your appointment at the hospital tomorrow and it’s very likely that they’ll take that cast off. You’ll be fully mobile again soon. I need to find myself a job.’
‘So you’re still Tasha the career girl, then.’
‘Absolutely. What else?’
‘Out there on the balcony you seemed to be extolling the virtues of love and family.’
‘Ugh—for goodness’ sake, Alessandro, I’d had a drink! Several drinks, actually. I always get morose after a glass or two of wine.’ She put her laptop on the floor and finished her hot chocolate. ‘And anyway I was talking about love for Josh, not love for me.’
‘Right.’ The way he was looking at her said that he didn’t believe her and she decided to shift the focus of the conversation.
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why do you think your mother blames you for the accident? You weren’t even in the car that night.’
He put his mug down slowly and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. ‘I should have been.’ His tone was bitter. ‘I should have been the one driving.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’d been drinking.’
Tasha put her mug down slowly, realising that those words had great significance. ‘You were there?’
‘We were both at a fundraising ball. I told him that he was too drunk to drive but he didn’t listen.’ Alessandro’s expression was bleak. ‘Antonio never listened, but that probably wasn’t all his fault. My brother was treated as the golden boy from the moment he was born. He was used to issuing commands, not receiving them.’
‘So he ignored you. Why wasn’t he being driven in a fancy bulletproof limo?’
‘Because he wanted to visit a woman. And she wasn’t the woman he was planning to marry.’
‘And he was supposed to marry Miranda, right?’
A tension rippled through his powerful frame and Alessandro sent her a strange look. Tasha was still trying to interpret that look when he turned away.
‘I should have stopped him. Taken the keys. Knocked him unconscious. Something.’
‘Hold on a minute.’ Tasha frowned for a moment and then sat down next to him. ‘If he hadn’t been sneaking off, or if he hadn’t been drunk—are you saying that’s why your mother blames you? Because you didn’t stop him driving when he was drunk?’
‘She’s right to blame me.’
‘No, sorry, but she isn’t. Antonio made his own decisions and it sounds as if they were all bad ones.’ Tasha was outraged. ‘You can’t be blamed for what he did.’
Alessandro lifted his head and looked at her, a faint smile playing around his mouth. ‘Beautiful Tasha—one minute you’re as gentle as a kitten and the next you’re a tiger.’
‘I just hate injustice, and if she’s blaming you then that’s unjust.’ She sighed and took his hand. ‘When someone dies, people look for someone to blame. It’s part of the grieving process. They want an explanation—a reason. I see it all the time at the hospital. That doesn’t mean anyone is to blame. And you’re not, you know you’re not.’
‘Do I?’
Her hand tightened on his. ‘Yes, you do. It’s also normal to feel guilt. And that’s what’s happening to you. But lay out the facts, Sandro. Take away the emotion. Are you really to blame?’
There was a long silence and his hand closed over hers. ‘Perhaps not.’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Tasha—about what you said on the balcony …’
‘I was waffling. Take no notice of anything I say when I’m upset. And you’re right—this is one thing Josh has to sort out by himself.’ She deliberately chose to focus her attention on her brother’s relationship rather than theirs. ‘We should get some sleep. I’m surfing in the morning and you have that magazine interview.’
A faint frown touched his brows. ‘You don’t have to leave the house just because I have an interview.’
‘Easi
er if they don’t know about us.’ Tasha slid into bed and flipped off the light. ‘I’ll go down to the beach as soon as it’s light.’
‘Tasha—’
‘What?’
‘I haven’t told anyone about that before.’
She pulled up the covers. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Sandro. You weren’t responsible. He was an adult and he made his own decision. You know it’s true.’
He hauled her close. ‘My ribs are healing.’
All of him was healing. Soon he wouldn’t need her any more.
Once his cast was off and his mobility increased, he’d be able to cope alone.
She’d go back to paediatrics.
Back to her career.
And she was fine with that.
Absolutely fine.
‘How does it feel?’
Alessandro moved his leg cautiously, aware that Tasha was watching him closely.
The answer was that it felt strange without the cast. It also felt strange to think that soon she’d be moving out. ‘I feel surprisingly good considering I’ve had it in plaster for so long. The surgeon says that the bones are healing well but they want me to use the swimming pool as much as possible to build the muscle back up.’
And then he’d be returning home to San Savarre. No more delaying tactics.
It was time to face his future.
Distracted by that bleak prospect, it took him a few moments to realise that Tasha had asked him a question and was waiting for the answer. ‘Sorry—I missed that. What did you say?’
‘I asked if they’re arranging for a physio to come to the house.’
‘I told them I had you.’
Her gaze turned from concerned to exasperated. ‘Sandro, I’m not a physio—’
‘But you’re a bright girl and you can talk to the physio. She’ll do a session with us and then you can take it from there.’ It was unsettling to acknowledge that his real reason for not accepting more help was that he didn’t want anyone intruding on the little cocoon they’d created.
‘Pool running is good.’ Tasha whipped a notebook out of her bag and made a few notes. ‘You wear a buoyancy aid and move through the water—I’ll see if I can borrow the equipment.’
‘You see what I mean? I don’t need a bunch of different people traipsing through the house when I have you.’