Sarah & Vittorio (Royals of Valleria #9)

by Marianne Knightly

Those tight shorts—God, she loved European-style men’s swimwear—those long, muscular legs on display. When she’d seen him, she’d had a memory flash of those legs tangled with hers, the abrasive hair on his rubbing the soft skin of hers. His chest was covered with hair, too. Not an excessive amount. No, not for her Rio. A smattering that was roughly heart-shaped, the bottom point, which was nestled on his hard abs, aiming the way to his cock.

  As if she needed directions to find that beautiful piece of flesh.

  Wait. Her Rio? What was she thinking?

  “Bella?”

  She wasn’t paying attention. “Hmm?”

  He waved a hand in front of her face. “Bella? Sarah?”

  Her head jerked. “What?”

  He leaned forward onto the arm of his chair and beckoned her close with a curl of his finger.

  She leaned over the arm of her chair, their heads now close together.

  His voice was low. Over the crashing waves, her Nonna wouldn’t hear.

  “You keep looking at my cock like that, we’ll be giving your grandmother and anyone else watching quite a show.”

  Heat warred with anger. Anger won. “Don’t mention my Nonna and your, you know, in the same sentence.”

  He was smiling now, his white teeth flashing, and took off his sunglasses. “Then stop staring at my you know if you don’t want me to do something with it.”

  She huffed. “Well, I can’t help it.”

  He blinked, then laughed full out. One of his hands went to his abs, and his whole body plonked back in the chair. When his laughter died down, but his smile didn’t, he rose again.

  He pulled her head to his and gave her a noisy smack on the lips. It was mostly chaste.

  Mostly.

  There was a little tongue.

  Then a little more tongue.

  Then a little less tongue, and it was over.

  She had another memory flash, this time of his tongue on another part of her body, and flushed all over.

  Oh God. She was flushing. In. Front. Of. Her. Nonna.

  This was his fault.

  She snapped. “Rio!”

  “I like you.”

  Her mouth, set to let out another rant, closed shut.

  His hand was still on the back of her head. Not tangled, like he usually preferred, just holding her.

  She liked that. So far, she’d liked any way he’d touched her.

  He brushed his nose against hers once, twice. His voice was low and deep, filled with something sweet she didn’t want to process yet. “I like you, Sarah. I’ll list all the things I like about you later. In detail.”

  Her body clenched at his tone and his words. She wondered if she had a radar where he was concerned because she’d never been so turned on by anyone in her whole life.

  “Children.” Nonna’s voice was musical, her tone still amused. “I do hate to break up such a sweet moment, but we’ve been spotted.”

  Sarah started to turn her head, but he held it in place.

  His voice wasn’t sweet anymore; it was hard. “Where?”

  Nonna sighed. “I’ve spotted one in a boat at four o’clock, another at eight.” A servant handed her a slip of paper. “More are likely to appear, according to our agents. It’s likely due to my being here. I so rarely come out anymore during the summers. There are always more people about in the summers with their long-range lenses and amped-up camera phones.”

  She hated to hear Nonna so sad. No should feel like they needed to stay trapped indoors, especially not her grandmother.

  She tried to move again. “Nonna—”

  “Don’t move,” he growled. “This is the reason we came out. They want a show? Let’s give them one. Any objection, Your Majesty?”

  “Only to you calling me Your Majesty. Victoria, if you don’t feel comfortable with Nonna yet.”

  Sarah gasped. “Why should he call you Nonna? We’re not—”

  He kissed her again, long and hard. Her anger slipped away and need clawed its way through her body. She caught fire so easily with him.

  It was supremely annoying.

  Wonderful and amazing, sure, but also very annoying.

  “Well done,” Nonna said.

  Oh God. She was making out with Rio in front of her Nonna! And cameras. And God knew who else. “Rio.”

  He smiled. “Do you know? So far, I’ve liked every way you’ve said my name.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure I can find one you don’t like.”

  His face went soft. “I look forward to it.”

  Her body sagged a little. She really couldn’t take it when he was sweet.

  God, what was happening between them?

  “We appear to be losing some of them.”

  His hand dropped away and they both looked to Nonna.

  Nonna was still painting, as if nothing was amiss. “Some of the boats are leaving. It will take a while to confirm if the others have left. No doubt, we’ll have some who stay for several hours, at least.”

  Damn. “I’m sorry, Nonna. I know we expected it, but I didn’t want your privacy to be so invaded.”

  He sighed. “Neither did I, Victoria.”

  Nonna turned a sharp glance their way. “Bite your tongue. Let them take pictures. It was part of the plan, after all. The papers will publish that I clearly approve of you two. Which I do. And you’ll stay again tonight. No, you’ll not leave just yet. I intend to spend some time with my granddaughter. On top of that, I intend to spend some time with you, Vittorio. I think we’ll enjoy our time together.”

  Nonna gave him a cheeky glance. “I’ll enjoy our time more if you continue to wear such few clothes.”

  Sarah’s eyes went wide. “Nonna!”

  “Or even less.”

  Rio chuckled.

  Sarah nearly choked. “Nonna!”

  Nonna smiled, then went back to her canvas. She was swirling her brush in a cup of water when she spoke. “Calm down, my dear.”

  “Rio’s much younger than you.”

  Nonna’s brows lifted, but her eyes stayed on the canvas. “That is true. He is younger than me. I am much older than him. However, my dear, I am not dead.”

  Sarah huffed while Rio laughed.

  “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny.”

  “Bella, it’s hilarious.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

  She frowned in confusion. “See what?”

  He tapped her nose with his finger. “That you are just like your grandmother. And your grandmother is just like you.”

  “Uh, well, I mean, of course we share characteristics.”

  “No, bella. You share personalities.” He laid back again and swung his sunglasses on. “I suppose that’s what I’ll have to get used to. You ogling younger men in my presence for the next month.”

  Sarah spluttered again.

  “Vittorio, if that is the case, then you needn’t worry. I may look, but I’ll never stray from my Charles.” Nonna sighed, her hands pausing as she remembered.

  Sarah never knew her grandfather. He’d passed away long before Sarah had been born, even before Alex and Cat had been born. He was a memory her Nonna and her father shared.

  To Sarah, that’s all he was: a memory she never had.

  She loved him—or his memory—for her father and grandmother’s sakes. The country had loved their King Charles. They loved his son, too, and his grandson as well. Charles was not a perfect man—no man ever was—but he had done his best for his country. So, she loved her grandfather for that, too.

  Her Nonna had never recovered from losing him. Over forty years after his death, she was still in love with him and had no desire to find another. She may look at another, as she’d said, but she’d never stray from his memory.

  Sarah’s voice was soft. “Nonna.”

  Nonna waved a brush-filled hand in the air. “No, my dear. I’m all right. Some days I just miss him more than others.” She took a deep breath. “Now, relax my dear. Breathe
in the air and quiet while you can. Let’s just hope they didn’t get pictures of you two, er, earlier. If those pictures make the rounds, your father may summon you sooner than you’d like.”

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. “Oh my God.”

  What if they had?

  What if they’d gotten pictures of them at the railing?

  His hands.

  His fingers.

  His cock.

  Oh God. She’d kissed his cock. She thought it’d be cute, a way to torment him a little while taking back some control. Yet, with the right camera angle, it could look like something else entirely.

  “Oh my God.”

  His hand settled on hers. “Bella.”

  Her frantic eyes met his serious ones.

  He brought her hand to his lips, then settled their joined hands on his chest. “We’ll get through it. I’ll protect you.”

  That was sweet—really sweet—but it couldn’t halt the scenarios running through her head.

  If photos ‘caught’ her in a compromising situation, then it would absolutely be the last straw. No more trade deal. No more ambassador post. It wouldn’t matter if she were caught with her ‘boyfriend’, the photos—coupled with the stories already swirling about her—would mean she’d have to resign. Her father would almost certainly ask her to, in order to save face for the country and to placate the Council.

  Another ambassador would take her place. They could learn the players and politics of Italy, but they’d never be as good as her. Because they’d never be as loyal to Valleria as she was.

  And then…and then…well, God only knew what could happen.

  It only took one small thread to unravel a sweater. One tiny, perfectly placed loose thread and everything could fall apart faster than a blink.

  Oh God.

  She buried her face in her hands.

  She’d done it again. She’d lost control and now everything was at risk again. How could she manage this?

  His hand came to her, rubbing gently from her nape to the strings of her bikini. “Sarah. Everything will be all right. We can manage this.”

  She snapped. She wasn’t sure how the worry turned so quickly to anger, but she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control her emotions.

  Her head whipped up to stare him down. “Oh, can we? What do you know? Your life is nothing like mine. You have a title, but none of the responsibility. What do you know of the disaster that could harm”—she gave her chest a hard poke—“my country if those photos come out?”

  He leaned away, the concern is his face fading into a guarded expression.

  “Sarah, dear—”

  “No, Nonna. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t lead like we do. He doesn’t have a country on his shoulders. He just has a fucked-up family.”

  She started gathering up her things and shoved them in her bag, her movements jerky. She fought to put her cover-up on again. The arms—damn these sleeves!—just wouldn’t cooperate. In a huff, she stuffed that in the bag, too.

  She whirled around to him again, her anger stuttering at the sight of his blank, cold face. The sand beneath her feet was hot, the sun warm on her skin. But his gaze…his gaze left her ice cold.

  She’d seen it before. She’d seen it whenever he spoke of his family. He’d never used it with her, though. Never. Maybe they’d only known each other for a couple days, but he’d never been like this.

  She wanted to stop, to apologize, but the anger was too strong and had too tight a hold on her to let go.

  “I’ll manage this, since I’m the only one with real repercussions in this situation.”

  She stormed off as best she could on the sand, ignoring the sounds of Nonna calling after her.

  Oh God. What if the photographers had caught that?

  Oh God. She should turn around, apologize to him.

  Oh God. She should apologize to her Nonna, too.

  Oh God. What had she just done?

  She rarely gave in to anger, rarely let it take hold and consume her. In her line of work, she couldn’t afford to show emotion. Politics wasn’t played with emotion. It was played with cold ruthlessness.

  The press had been camped out in the sea because of her, because that’s how she’d planned it to manage the last situation. She knew that, yet she’d still lost control.

  She needed to get it back, needed to manage this new potential situation…

  But how?

  She couldn’t manipulate the press again, not yet. She couldn’t turn to her family, not when the pictures might imply she was sucking Rio’s cock.

  Oh God.

  How should she handle this?

  Oh God. What had she done?

  Chapter Seven

  Rio took his time on the beach. Victoria left to speak with Sarah after a few minutes, but he’d stayed.

  Thinking.

  Hurting.

  Then getting angry to stop thinking about the hurting.

  Sarah probably did have more to lose than him, that much was likely true.

  He did have a fucked-up family, that was true, too.

  But she’d been wrong about so much. He had things to lose, too.

  And it seemed he’d already lost one of them.

  Her.

  They hadn’t known each other long, and their relationship—such as it was—was bound to run into difficulties. Maybe they were only in lust, which only too easy to confuse with another word that started with ‘l’.

  Maybe he’d been imagining the connection between them, that pull that seemed to be more than just need and want of each other’s bodies. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off, end their arrangement.

  Walk away.

  It hurt to think of walking away from her, even after the words she’d said. He was used to harsh words hurled at him, even harsh hands used against him.

  He’d get over it. Eventually.

  Wouldn’t he?

  It was only when the sun began to dip that he finally left the beach. He gathered his things and asked the servants to take in everything else.

  Victoria was waiting by the entrance to the house. “I was just coming to call you in for a drink before dinner.”

  He shook his head. “Thank very much for your kindness and hospitality. However, I think it’s best if I leave.”

  She nodded solemnly. “I can understand that. However, you’ll need to wait until morning. The yacht you arrived on is no longer near the island, and I’m afraid there are no more ferries running today.”

  He frowned. “So, what you’re telling me, is that there are no boats whatsoever that can take me off the island?”

  She was trying not to smile. “Exactly. Isn’t that just the worst sort of luck? Do you know, when the paparazzi showed up, I arranged to have them escorted and cleared, and the ferries halted for the night.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did you?”

  She nodded. “As for our yacht, well, I sent it back to Italy tonight for supplies. So, you see it won’t be back until early morning.”

  “How…astounding.”

  “Isn’t it just?”

  “Perhaps I should leave and head to a—”

  “Oh, you can’t stay at a hotel. Think of what the press would say if they found out. You must keep up the ruse while you’re on the island.”

  “If the press got pictures of Sarah’s…conversation with me, the ruse is already up.”

  “Well, if they didn’t, you wouldn’t want to risk it, would you?”

  He was cornered but good. “Indeed.”

  She patted his arm. “Sarah’s already dressed and having a drink in the sitting room. Do come down when you’re ready.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked away.

  Yes, it was safe to say he adored Victoria, even though she’d manipulated him into staying.

  He walked to the room he shared with Sarah, and fortunately managed to avoid her along the way. He took his time showering and dressing in order to get his emotions under control. He’d had to do it before w
ith his own family. He could make it through one dinner with Sarah.

  He was the perfect gentleman through dinner. Sarah was quiet and sullen, while Victoria tried to keep conversation flowing.

  It awkward, to say the least.

  Even more awkward was the silent walk back to their room. The silence as they changed and slid into bed.

  Sarah was turned on her side away from him, huddled under the covers. He was on his back above the covers, his hands linked loosely over his stomach.

  Unable to sleep, he contemplated sleeping on the floor instead. He likely still wouldn’t get any sleep but at least he’d be farther away from Sarah and her addictive scent. His body was responding to her closeness, damn her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He turned his head, sure he’d imagined it. He waited, but no other words came. He went back to staring at the ceiling.

  The sheets rustled, and he sensed her eyes on him. She was sitting up, watching him. He tilted his head to the side, kept his expression flat.

  “I’m sorry.”

  This time he saw the words on her lips, knew she’d said it.

  “I shouldn’t have said those things. Nonna reamed me out, but I knew even while I was saying them that they were wrong. So wrong. I just…I just wanted to say that.”

  He’d never gotten an apology before from anyone who’d hurled shit words at him. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. “Thank you.”

  His eyes went back to the ceiling.

  She watched him for long moments. “I am sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “Right.” She slipped back down into bed, this time lying on her back, both of them staring at the ceiling.

  He wanted to give her more but couldn’t. She’d broken his trust in a way.

  “I’ll leave in the morning.”

  She sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay.”

  “You can pretend I’m leaving to take care of business and fake break us up in a couple weeks. It’s fine.”

  Her voice was hesitant. “Okay.”

  There. It was done. So why did he feel like shit?

  He turned to his side, away from her.

  She gasped.

  A light hand touched his back and he tensed.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  Shit. He’d forgotten about that. “It’s just a scar.”