“Where is your grandmother’s home?”
She straightened and pointed towards the island. “Nonna’s home is on the other side, well away from the main port we’ll enter. It’s also away from the shoreline, which is public. Her house has a private beach we can use. It’ll be the best place to be seen. I’ve no doubt the press will circle the island on boats to try and catch glimpses of us.”
An island full people would have their lives disrupted because of them. “It’s a simple life.”
She turned to him, mimicking his pose of leaning a hip against the railing. “What is?”
He waved a hand over the island. “Living here. It’s simple, uncomplicated. I’m not sure the locals will appreciate a swarm of press surrounding the island because we’re here.”
“It could work in our favor. They may get more protective of us because of it and help deter some of them. After all, we want to be seen, but we don’t want to be harassed.”
If he was a local on this island, he wasn’t sure he’d agree. Then again, since very little of his life had been peaceful, if he had that peace now he’d fight for it.
He turned away from the island’s view. Leaning the small of his back against the railing, he crossed his arms and watched the retreating Italian shoreline instead. Italy was his home. It was his torment. It was his passion through his foundation. It was full of memories and nightmares and buried secrets that may not remain buried for very long. Maybe he could try to enjoy the peace of the island while he had it.
“I don’t think we’ll need to stay longer than a day.”
“I think you’re wrong. We should stay a couple days at least. Nonna won’t mind.”
“I will.”
Her eyebrows popped up from behind her glasses. “You don’t want to spend time with my grandmother?”
“A silly question. I don’t wish to intrude upon her privacy, or the privacy of the islanders. We shouldn’t make things difficult for her. Not to mention, we’ve already agreed that there are other events where we can show ourselves.”
“I suppose, but the option is there for us if we decide to extend our stay or come back after our first event.” They’d finally agreed to debut at his next charity ball, just a couple days away.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Time for a subject change. “Did you talk to your family about this plan?”
Her body curved slightly to watch the birds overhead. “Yes. My brother Alex isn’t convinced but is going along with it.”
“Did you speak to your father?”
She shook her head. “No summons as yet. I’m sure it’ll come while we’re on the island.”
He nodded, wondering if he’d be expected to return with her to Valleria.
She stopped watching the birds to watch him instead. “Have you spoken to your parents? They’re still living, if memory serves.”
Unfortunately, they were still alive, much to society’s detriment. “Not yet. I’m avoiding their calls for now. Franco, in particular, isn’t someone you want to speak with for very long, and he will insist on a long conversation.”
“Franco?”
“Gianfranco. The man whose sperm seeded me.”
Her fingers absently toyed with the railing. “You don’t call him ‘father’ or a similar name?”
He hadn’t planned to share anything about his family, but he could tell her some things. “No. I stopped calling him ‘father’ when I was about eight. He never seemed to deserve the title anyway. I don’t give my mother, Giulia, her title, either.”
“That’s harsh.”
“That’s life. If you ever have the unlucky chance to meet them, you’ll understand why.”
She pursed her lips, then spoke hesitantly. “Are they really that bad?”
He turned to face the island again. He stared out into the sea, which was too calm today. “You grew up surrounded by love, bella. I didn’t. There’s no need to be shy about it. I’m well aware of who they are. ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’, ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’, even ‘brother’. Whatever titles you choose, they must be earned and respected. Mine hold no respect for anyone, and very little for themselves. They cling to an antiquated title as if it’s a life preserver. Nothing will save them now.”
“Your par—I mean, Gianfranco and Giulia—did they hurt you?”
Hurt was a tame word for what they’d done. “Yes, they did.”
He didn’t elaborate, and she seemed to sense that he wouldn’t, not right then.
“Do they care for each other?”
“No, they don’t. Franco has mistresses. Giulia has her own affairs. Franco doesn’t like to hear about the affairs, but he doesn’t much care that they occur. As long as it stays relatively secret, they’re both happy with the arrangement.”
“Does it? Stay secret?”
A rueful smile twisted his lips and he shook his head. “Not at all, but they convince themselves that it does. Everyone in their circle of friends has a similar setup in their marriages. Even my brothers—Giancarlo and Gianluca—have similar arrangements with their wives and girlfriends. One is never enough for them. I’m sure the press will pick up on the infidelities.”
The unasked question hung in the air, but she didn’t ask it.
He answered it anyway. “I’m nothing like them.”
The sunglasses shielded her eyes, so he couldn’t read them, but she nodded. “Why are your brothers named like your father, but you aren’t?”
“Luck.”
She giggled. God, even her giggle could brighten him up. “They’re not bad names.”
“No. Neither is Giulia—it’s just the Italian form of Julia, after all—but when names are associated with bad people, they become forever stuck in your mind as terrible. My grandpapa was still alive when I was born and insisted that I be named after him. By all accounts, he was nothing like my father. He was known to be steady, fair, and very much in love with my grandmother. He and my grandmama died when I was still too young to remember them. A car accident. Gianluca was born soon after, and I suppose my father had no compunction to honor the family at that point.”
“Do you actually rule over anything?”
He watched her looking at the sea, at the island looming closer, an island she sort of owned and over which her family ruled. “No. We have several holdings in the country where our family home is. You could say we have sway in that small town and some surrounding lands, but only as great landowners. It’s nothing like what your family manages. We have a small—though that’s a relative term—annual stipend we receive that the government is required to set aside for us. During the recent recession, I suggested we divert the stipend to help the people in town and around us. Franco called me a traitor and had me escorted out of the family home.”
“But…but that’s…”
“You don’t have to say it, bella.” He let out a long sigh. “I know. Trust me, I know.”
“Will the ruling title go to you?”
He nodded. “Unless Luca or Carlo can convince the Italian government to side with them, as they’d have to approve a change in succession. It won’t happen, at least not with the current government.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because it’s no secret that my father’s ‘reign’, such as it is, has been fraught with tension and scandal. No one wants Luca—next in line—or Carlo to get it. It is a symbolic title, but that doesn’t mean the roots of the title have been forgotten. Many Italians pride themselves on their lineage. Though all the royalty has essentially been abolished, it was only sixty or so years ago. There are still those who remember, and that will work in my favor. Not to mention, I happen to know several Italian officials who would be willing to side with me about this.”
She bumped her shoulder against his. “You just happen to know them?”
He grinned. “Perhaps I did a little political maneuvering myself, unbeknownst to my family. Once people realize I am not my father, nor my brothers, they have a much more op
en mind about things.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t have to answer this…”
“A wonderful start to any question.” He chuckled at her pout. “Go on, bella.”
“Well, do you want the title to come to you?”
He waited a beat before responding. He thought of all the good he could do with it. There were poor communities, even in Italy. The villages surrounding his ancestral home needed help. If he had the title, he could use it to grow those communities and bring some life back to the area. He’d have more freedom and he’d have power and control over his brothers and family, something else he’d love.
There was only one answer to her question. “Yes. Yes, I do. Very much. Does your brother get asked that question?”
She shook her head, but replied, “I’m not sure. He’s never said if it has happened. I think people just expect it of him. Vallerians love him—and Rebecca, his wife, too—so I think when he does take over it won’t be an issue. Of course, we always have some anti-monarchists who want to dissolve the monarchy altogether.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose it’s like you said. Some things are still rooted, like Valleria having a monarchy. Too many people are for it. We’ve weathered some, shall we say, less than ideal rulers. Let’s hope we don’t have those in the future, otherwise the monarchy could be at risk.”
“I don’t think you’ll worry about that in your lifetime.”
“No.”
They remained silent as Ilva drew nearer, but his thoughts churned noisily in his head. What he wouldn’t give to have a family like hers.
* * *
Needing air and a moment alone, Sarah stepped onto the deck behind Nonna’s house. The night was cool, and the only lights were from the boats and scattered buildings around the island. Nonna usually kept some lights on around the perimeter of the house, but right now it was all dark. There was only a soft glow from the house behind her.
She and Rio had arrived just in time for dinner. Nonna loved to draw out her meals, savoring each bite so much that, by the time they’d gotten through all five courses, two more hours had easily passed. She had a soft buzz from the wine, but it was nothing like last night. No, she remembered everything she’d said at dinner tonight, every teasing thing Nonna had said, and every charming thing Rio had said in return.
It was safe to say that Nonna liked Rio. A lot. In fact, her Nonna had—with a wink, no less—been the one to suggest Sarah take a few minutes of air while she and Rio chatted over coffee.
Her grandmother. Seriously.
Usually, Sarah’s visits to the island were mini-vacations, giving her a few days of calm from the hectic, ritual-filled world of royalty.
She wasn’t very calm now.
In addition to being charming, Rio had also spent the two-hour dinner caressing her shoulder, her hands, any inch of exposed skin. It wasn’t his touch that bothered her; no, it had been her body’s reaction to his touch that was concerning her.
She’d essentially just spent the last hours having foreplay, and her body knew it. She was overheated again. Uncomfortable. Yearning for something entirely inappropriate at the dining table.
Even after five minutes outside, she was still flushed and warm.
Evidently, she’d need a lot more than cool, fresh air to erase the memory of his hands on her skin. If she didn’t come up with something soon, she was doomed.
“Bella.”
Her body even reacted to his seductive whispers in the night. Her nipples were already tightening into tiny buds.
Damn the man! Couldn’t she get a few minutes’ peace?
She cleared her throat. “Finish coffee?”
She didn’t look but heard as his shoes walked slowly across the deck. She felt the heat of him behind her, scented his addictive cologne, tensed in anticipation of the touch that would come.
“Yes. Your grandmother is a fascinating woman. Very direct.”
Her head whirled to his at that. “What does that mean?”
He pushed her hair over her shoulder, letting his fingers linger on her collarbone. “She had a few words with me.”
She turned to face him. He wasted no time pushing her against the railing and boxing her in with an arm on either side.
He’d made her breathless again, with barely a touch.
“What, um, what did she say?”
“She told me to take care of you. Protect you.”
Well, that wasn’t so bad.
“She said that if any harm came to you—including emotional harm—that she’d have me killed.”
“What? I’m going to—”
He boxed her in tighter when she tried to move away. “Leave her alone.”
“She can’t just—”
“She can. And she did. She can do whatever damn thing she pleases.” He leaned close. “You can’t control your grandmother, bella, and you’d be a fool if you tried.”
There was some truth in that, but it annoyed her nonetheless. “Maybe I can’t control her, but I can talk to her. You are a prince and she shouldn’t speak to you like that.”
“Ah, but she’s a grandmother first, is she not? Are you telling me your father or brothers wouldn’t make similar statements to me?”
She crossed her arms. “You have a point.”
He leaned closer. “I’m right.”
He was. That also annoyed her.
“Have you remembered anything more from last night?”
How she wished she had. “No.”
“Would you like to?”
Her body coiled in anticipation.
“Tonight, bella, I’m in control.”
A spark of fear mixed with excitement. “Nonna may not put us in the same room together. She’s a little traditional about some things.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“Does that mean there’s something else I should worry about?”
He cupped her face. “Not about me, or about what we’ll do tonight. I’ll never hurt you, bella. What I will do, is give you hours of pleasure.”
She swallowed thickly. “Hours?”
He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Hours.”
She let out a little whimper.
“Bella.”
Any cool air around them was eviscerated by the kiss that followed. Hot, drugging kisses that left her more buzzed than the wine.
She’d been kissed a lot through her dating life, but nothing had ever felt like Rio. Years of kissing and it seemed she or her partners had been doing it wrong. Years of thinking a kiss was a simple thing—lips against lips, tongue against tongue—only to be taught differently by one man. She’d felt passion before, but that was a pale comparison to the all-consuming need she felt with Rio.
She wrenched her lips away. She needed air, she needed space, she needed control again. “Rio.”
He was twisting her face back to him, taking control once more. “Bella.”
“Oh good! You’re both enjoying the night air.”
Sarah jumped but Rio remained still, his breath heaving and his lips so, so close to hers again.
God, her grandmother. She would have seen them kissing through the glass doors that led to the deck, but she’d come out anyway.
He brushed a thumb over her softened lips and pulled back. He kept an arm around Sarah as he turned towards her grandmother.
“Your Majesty.”
Nonna smiled broadly. “I thought to show you to your room. A good host should always do that before she retires for the evening.” She walked over, and slid an arm through his, pulling him away from Sarah. “Shall we?”
He looked back to Sarah, then to her grandmother. “Of course.”
Nonna led him inside. Without looking back, she called to Sarah. “Do come along, Sarah, dear.”
Sarah rolled her eyes but followed. “I can show him to a guest room, Nonna.”
“No, it just wouldn’t be right. Come. This way.” She led them through the corrido
rs, stopping in front of a guest room. “I’m afraid this is just the worst timing, but all of my other guest rooms are under renovation. You’ll just have to share a room tonight.”
Sarah blushed. She never blushed. She knew if she and Rio went into that room together, he’d take control of her body. Something she wanted to explore, but maybe not something she wanted to explore under her Nonna’s roof. “Nonna. If you’re uncomfortable with us sharing a room, I can bunk with you if there isn’t another room.”
Nonna waved a hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. Have a good night, my dears.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, winked at Sarah, and walked away.
He gave Sarah a bemused glance, then opened the door and gestured for her to go first. “After you, bella.”
She brushed past him to step inside. She’d seen all the guest rooms before, including this one. While it was true her Nonna had been slowly redoing them, it was a stretch to say she was redoing all but one at the same time; she usually had too many visitors for that.
“I think Nonna’s pulling one over on us.”
He closed the door, locked it, and stalked to her. She never thought men could have a seductive walk, but Rio clearly did.
She wanted to start fanning herself but resisted the urge.
“Shall we pick up where we left off?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. It feels odd with my grandmother so close by.”
His gaze pierced hers. She tried to look away, break the connection, but couldn’t. What was this power he had over her?
“All right, bella.”
Her head jerked back. “All right?”
He cupped her face, something he seemed to like doing and something she liked him doing all too much. “Of course. Tonight, we’ll simply sleep together. Tomorrow, however…”
His words hung in the air, a seductive promise that had her blood warming again.
Sarah & Vittorio (Royals of Valleria #9) Page 8