“Who do you believe?”
“Neither of them. In the thirty seconds or so that I was standing there in shock, she never once told him no, and she wasn’t making any attempt to stop him. I think all the moaning they were both doing spoke for itself.”
His foot bumped hers again, and a tiny thrill shot up from her foot and through her leg, settling in places that were completely inappropriate considering their relationship.
“Were you in love with her?” Vanessa asked him.
“I thought I was, but I realize now it was just lust.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to tell the two apart.”
“Is that how it is with you and my father?”
What she felt for Gabriel was definitely not lust. “Not at all. Gabriel is a good friend, and I love and respect him for that. It’s the lust part we need to work on.”
Her candor seemed to surprise him. “And he knows you feel that way?”
“I’ve been completely honest with him. He’s convinced that my feelings for him will grow. And I’m hoping he’s right.”
His foot brushed hers again, and this time she could swear it was intentional. Was he honestly playing footsies with her? And why was her heart beating so fast, her skin tingling with awareness? And why was she mentally willing him to touch her in other places too, but with his hands?
Because there is something seriously wrong with you, honey. But knowing that didn’t stop her from leaning back on her arms and casually shifting her leg so her thigh brushed his.
Now this, what she was feeling right now, this was lust. And it was so wrong.
“I learned last week that her father’s company is in financial crisis and on the verge of collapse,” Marcus said, and it took Vanessa a second to realize that he was talking about his ex. “I guess she thought that an alliance with the royal family would have pulled him from the inevitable depths of bankruptcy.”
“So you think she was using you?”
“It seems a safe assumption.”
Well, that at least explained why he was so distrustful of Vanessa. He obviously looked at her and saw his ex. She shook her head in disgust and said, “What a bitch.”
Marcus’s eyes widened, and Vanessa slapped a hand across her mouth. Why couldn’t she learn to hold her tongue? “Sorry, that was totally inappropriate of me.”
Instead of looking angry, or put out, Marcus just laughed.
“No, it was more appropriate than you would imagine. And unfortunately she wasn’t the first. But usually I’m better at spotting it. I think my mother’s death left such a gaping hole, and I was so desperate to fill it I had blinders on.”
“You want to hear something ironic? In my junior year of high school, I caught my boyfriend in the back of his car with my so-called friend.”
His brow lifted. “Was it a limo?”
She laughed. “Hardly. It was piece of crap SUV.”
“What did you do when you caught them?”
“Threw a brick through the back window.”
He laughed. “Maybe that’s what I should have done.”
“I was really mad. I had just written his history term paper for him, and he got an A. I found out later from one of my ‘friends’ that he’d only dated me because I was smart, and in most of the same classes and willing to help him with his homework. I was stupid enough to do it for him. And let him copy off my tests. He played football, and if his grades dropped he would be kicked off the team. Pretty much everyone knew he was using me.”
“And no one told you?”
“Suffice it to say they weren’t my friends after that. My dad was reassigned a month later. It was one of the few times I was really relieved to be starting over.”
“I hope you at least reported him to the headmaster,” Marcus said.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to go to our teachers and the principal and tell them what I’d been doing, that his work was really my work. Not only could I have gotten him kicked off the team, he would have been expelled.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I would have been expelled too. And my father would have killed me. Not to mention that it was completely embarrassing. I should have known, with his reputation, he would never seriously date a girl who didn’t put out unless he was after something else. Not that he didn’t try to get in my pants every chance he got.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself. You have a trusting nature. That’s a good thing.”
Not always. “Unfortunately, I seem to attract untrustworthy men. It’s as if I have the word gullible stamped in invisible ink on my forehead, and only jerks can see it.”
“Not all men use women.”
“All the men I’ve known do.”
“Surely not everyone has been that bad.”
“Trust me, if there was a record for the world’s worst luck with men, I would hold it. When Mia’s dad walked out on me, I swore I would never let a man use me again. That I would never trust so blindly. But then I met Gabriel and he’s just so…wonderful. And he treated me as if I were something special.”
“That’s because he thinks you are. From the minute he returned home he couldn’t stop talking about you.” He laid a hand on her arm, gave it a gentle squeeze, his dark eyes soft with compassion. “He’s not using you, Vanessa.”
Weird, but yesterday he was convinced she was using his father. When had everything gotten so turned around?
And why, as they had a heart-to-heart talk about his father—one that should have drawn her closer to Gabriel—could she only think about Marcus? Why did she keep imagining what it would be like to lay her hand on his muscular thigh, feel the crisp dark hair against her palm? Why did she keep looking at his mouth, and wondering how it would feel pressed against hers?
Maybe they both would have been better off if he kept acting like a jerk, because it was becoming painfully clear that Vanessa had developed a major crush. On the wrong man.
* * *
“Do you think someone can fall in love, real love, in a matter of two weeks?” Vanessa asked Marcus.
He could tell her that he believed falling in love so fast was nothing but a fairy tale, and that he thought his father was rebounding. What he felt for Vanessa was infatuation and nothing more, and he would realize that when he returned from Italy. Marcus knew if he told Vanessa that, she was confused and vulnerable enough that she might actually believe him. Which would discourage her, and fill her with self-doubt, and might ultimately make her leave. And wasn’t that what he’d wanted?
But now, he couldn’t make himself say the words. Something had changed. He was instead telling her things that would make her want to stay, and for reasons that had nothing to do with his father’s happiness, and everything to do with Marcus’s fascination with her. She wasn’t helping matters by encouraging him, by moving closer when he touched her, looking up at him with those expressive blue eyes. And did she have to smell so good? Most of the women he knew bathed themselves in cloying perfume, Carmela included, but Vanessa smelled of soap and shampoo. And he could smell that only because they were sitting so close to one another. Too close. If he had any hope of fighting these inappropriate feelings, he really needed to back off.
“I believe that when it comes to love, anything is possible,” he told her, which wasn’t a lie exactly. He just didn’t believe it in this case. And the idea that she might be hurt again disturbed him more than he could have ever imagined possible. Maybe because he knew it was inevitable. He just hoped that when his father let her down, he did it gently. Or maybe after waiting for his father for so many weeks, she would grow frustrated and decide she didn’t want to stay after all.
Now that Marcus had gotten to know her better, he wasn’t any more sure of what to expect. He’d never met a woman more confusing or unpredictable. Yet in a strange way, he felt he could relate to her—understand her even—which made no sense at all.
But what baffled him most was how wrong he’d been about her, w
hen he was so sure he’d had her pegged. He hadn’t given his father nearly enough credit, had just assumed he was too vulnerable to make intelligent choices, and for that Marcus would always feel foolish.
George appeared at his side with two fresh drinks. Marcus took them and held one out to Vanessa. She looked in the glass she was still holding as if she were surprised to realize that it was empty.
“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” she said, but as he moved to give it back to George, added, “But it would be a shame to let the good stuff go to waste. No more after this though.”
George shuffled off with their empty glasses, shaking his head in either amusement or exasperation, Marcus couldn’t be sure which. None of the staff were sure what to think of her, and that was in large part Marcus’s fault, as he’d made his feelings about her visit quite clear from the moment his father had broken the news. Now he knew that he’d unfairly judged her, and that was something he needed to rectify.
“Your dad said that when he met your mom it was love at first sight,” she said. “And it was a big scandal because she wasn’t a royal.”
“Yes, my grandparents were very traditional. There was already a marriage arranged for him but he loved my mother. They threatened to disown him. He said it was the only time in his life that he rebelled against their wishes.”
“That must have been difficult for your mom. To know that they hated her so much they would disown their own child.”
“It wasn’t her so much as the idea of her that they resented, but things improved after I was born. My father was an only child, so they were happy that she’d given my father a male heir.”
“So your father wouldn’t mind if you married a nonroyal?”
“My parents have been very insistent my entire life that as sole heir it’s imperative I also produce an heir, but they want me to marry for love.”
“Like they did.”
He nodded.
“What was your mom like?” she asked.
Just thinking of her brought a smile to his face. “Beautiful, loyal, outspoken—more so than some people thought a queen should be. She grew up in a middle-class family in Italy, so she had a deep respect for the common man. You actually remind me of her in a way.”
She blinked in surprise. “I do?”
“She was brave and smart, and she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. Even if it got her into trouble sometimes. And she was a positive role model to young women.”
“Brave?” she said, looking at him as though he’d completely lost his mind. “I’m constantly terrified that I’m doing the wrong thing, or making the wrong choice.”
“But that doesn’t stop you from making the choice, and that takes courage.”
“Maybe, but I fail to see how I’m a role model to women. My life has been one bad move after another.”
How could she not see it, not be proud of her accomplishments? “You’re well traveled, intelligent, successful. You’re an excellent mother, raising a child with no help. What young woman wouldn’t look up to you?”
She bit her lip, and for a second he thought she might start crying. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Though I’m pretty sure that I don’t deserve it. I’m a gigantic walking disaster waiting to happen.”
“That’s your father talking,” he said.
“In part. But I can’t deny that I’ve made some really dumb decisions in my life.”
“Everybody does. How will you learn if you don’t make occasional mistakes?”
“The problem is, I don’t seem to be learning from mine.”
Why couldn’t she see what he did? Was she really so beaten down by her father’s overinflated ideals that she had no self-confidence left? And what could he do to make her believe otherwise? How could he make her see how gifted and special and unique she really was? “You don’t give yourself enough credit. If you weren’t an extraordinary person, do you really think my father would have fallen so hard for you so fast?”
Nine
Their eyes met and Vanessa’s were so filled with hope and vulnerability, Marcus had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her lips looked so plump and soft, he couldn’t help but wonder how they would feel, how they would taste.
The sudden pull of lust in his groin caught him completely off guard, but he couldn’t seem to look away.
Carmela and most other women he’d dated favored fitted, low-cut blouses and skintight jeans. They dressed to draw attention. In shorts and a T-shirt and with no makeup on her face, her pale hair cascading down in loose waves across her shoulders, Vanessa didn’t look particularly sexy. Other than being exceptionally beautiful, she looked quite ordinary, yet he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
Vanessa was the one to turn her head, but not before he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes, and he knew, whatever these improper feeling were, she was having them too.
Vanessa rubbed her arms. “It’s getting chilly, huh?”
“Would you like to go inside?” he asked.
She shook her head, gazing up at the night sky. “Not yet.”
“I could have George bring us something warm to drink.”
“No, thank you.”
They were both quiet for several minutes, but there was a question that had been nagging him since their conversation this afternoon in the park. “You said that you were afraid two or three weeks wouldn’t be long enough to get to know my father better. I’m wondering, what guarantee did you have that four weeks would be? Or six?”
She shrugged. “There was no guarantee. But I had to at least try. For him. And for Mia.”
“What about you?”
“For me, too,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
Why did he get the feeling her own needs were pretty low on the priority scale? The way he saw it, either you were physically attracted to someone or you weren’t. There was no gray area. And it seemed a bit selfish of his father to push her into something she clearly was unsure about.
She took a swallow of her drink, then blinked rapidly, setting her glass on the tile beside her. “You know, I think I’ve had enough. I feel a little woozy. And it’s getting late. I should check on Mia.”
It was odd, but although he’d had no intention of spending the evening with her, now he wasn’t ready for it to end. All the more reason that it should. “Shall I walk you back to your room?”
“You might have to. I’m honestly not sure I could find it by myself.”
“Tomorrow I’ll have Cleo print a map for you.” Two days ago it wouldn’t have mattered to him, now he wanted her to feel comfortable in the palace. It was the least he could do.
He set his drink down and pulled himself to his feet, the night air cool against his wet skin, and extended a hand to help her. It felt so small and fragile, and it was a good thing he was holding on, because as he pulled her to her feet, she was so off balance she probably would have fallen into the pool.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling her away from the edge.
“Yeah.” She blinked several times then gave her head a shake, as if to clear it, clutching his hand in a death grip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last drink.”
“Would you like to sit back down?”
She took several seconds to get her bearings, then said, “I think I should probably just get to bed.”
His first thought, depraved as it was, was “Why don’t I join you.” But, while he could think it, and perhaps even wish it a little, it was something he would never say out loud. And even more important, never do.
* * *
Could this be more embarrassing?
Feeling like an idiot, Vanessa clung to Marcus’s arm as he led her across the patio. So much for letting her hair down a little.
“On top of everything else, now you probably think I have a drinking problem,” she said.
Marcus grinned, his dimples forming dents in both cheeks, and she felt that delicious li
ttle zing. Did he have to be so…adorable?
“Maybe if you’d had ten drinks,” he said, stopping by the table so she could grab her phone and they could both slip into their sandals. “But you only had three, and you didn’t even finish the last one. I’m betting it has more to do with the jet lag.”
“Jet lag can do that?”
“Sure. So can fatigue. Are you certain you can make it upstairs? I could carry you.”
Yeah, because that wouldn’t be completely humiliating. Besides, she liked holding on to his arm. And she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to touch him in other places. Not that she would ever try. She probably wouldn’t be feeling this way at all if it weren’t for the alcohol.
Well, okay, she probably would, but never in a million years would she act on it. Even though he thought she was smart and brave and successful. Plus, he’d left out beautiful. That was usually the first, and sometimes the only thing, that people noticed about her. Gabriel must have told her a million times. Remarkably, Marcus seemed to see past that.
“I think I can manage,” she told him.
Clutching her cell phone in one hand and his forearm in the other, she wobbled slightly as he led her across the patio, but as they reached the French doors, she stopped. “Could we possibly walk around the side, through the garden?”
“What for?”
She chewed her lip, feeling like an irresponsible adolescent, which is probably how everyone else in the palace would see her as well. “I’m too embarrassed to have anyone see me this way. The entire staff already thinks I’m a horrible person. Now they’re going to think I’m a lush, too.”
“What does it matter what they think?”
“Please,” she said, tugging him toward the garden path. “I feel so stupid.”
“You shouldn’t. But if it means that much to you, we’ll go in the side entrance.”
“Thank you.”
Actually, now that she was on her feet, she felt steadier, but she kept holding on to his arm anyway. Just in case. Or just because it felt nice. He was tall and sturdy and reliable. And warm. He made her feel safe. She tried to recall if any man had made her feel that way before and drew a blank. Surely there must have been someone.
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