“Buon giorno,” she said with a smile. “It was a lovely dinner last night. You’ve made me a fan of osso buco. Grazie.”
The chef’s face broke into a wide, beaming smile. “Luigi is very happy you liked it, signorina. I have brunch prepared for you. We will serve it in the dining room.”
“Oh no. Please don’t bother. I can have it here in the galley.”
Luigi was shocked then protested volubly that a guest could not eat in the galley. Sabrina glanced around the gleaming, state-of-the-art kitchen with its granite countertops. The floor area appeared bigger than her one-room apartment.
“I don’t mind. Good food is good food wherever it’s eaten. Si?” Sabrina feared she might have said too much. Surely this starred chef would not take kindly to his gourmet meals being eaten in a yacht galley.
Chef Luigi studied her for a few seconds, then he nodded emphatically. “You are right, signorina.” He snapped the tip of his fingers, palms up, and flicked his wrists several times, punctuating his sentences. “I do not like pretension in my food, like other chefs do nowadays. If you cook from the heart, there is no need for anything else.” And because he was Italian, he couldn’t help adding, “Just like a beautiful woman does not need anything else, like make-up or jewelry, to make her beautiful. Si?”
“It helps though,” she smiled.
“For you, not necessary,” the chef said with authority.
Sabrina ate her meal of delicious spaghetti carbonara while chef Luigi bustled in the kitchen supervising the inventory of the kitchen supplies. The galley steward who had accompanied Antonia last night flashed her a deferential smile while he inspected the shelves and cabinets.
“Are you preparing for a lot of guests on the yacht?”
“Si. Two days after the wedding, there will be a party onboard. Some of the guests will stay after.”
“Big party?”
“A hundred guests. It is a fundraising party.”
“Fundraising party?”
“Luca’s project.” He shrugged. “Profits will go to charity.”
“Oh.”
He made an irritated tsk tsk sound as he delved into the freezer and spoke to the galley steward in an annoyed tone in Italian. He straightened up, holding a frozen chicken. “You will stay until the party. Si?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head vehemently. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” Luigi blustered. His dark eyes widened in alarm. “Does Luca know this?”
“Yes,” she said tremulously, then she lifted her chin firmly, ashamed of acting like a weak ninny. “Yes. He does.”
The chef looked like he wanted to say something more.
Sabrina forced a smile past her lips. “I really should be going.”
She thanked Luigi for the wonderful meal and made her way back to the skylight room. A staff member was cleaning the bathroom. She poked her head out when she heard Sabrina enter.
“Excuse me, signorina. Signora Antonia has asked me to tell you that you have a visitor waiting at the salon.”
“A visitor?”
The woman shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom.
Sabrina’s heart kicked up. There was only one other person who had reason to see her. Was she finally getting her chance?
She tried to recall the location of the salon. Was it on the main deck? She only had a vague idea of the floor plan of the yacht since Luca had just pulled her into one room after the other. She had been too distracted too care.
She spotted a room at the end of the corridor, bigger than the others. She took a deep breath, pulled on the doorknob of the heavy door, and let herself in.
Sabrina tamped down on the acute disappointment she felt. Her visitor was a Konstantinos alright, but not the one she hoped for.
Eleni Konstantinos had been pacing on the carpeted floor. She stopped midstride and rounded on her when she entered, eyeing her tank top and shorts critically.
“This is not a social call,” the Greek woman said laconically. She was dressed in a fitted midnight blue silk jacket and skirt with matching colored pumps. Her make-up was flawless as usual and her hair was drawn up in a tight chignon, not a strand out of place. She had a fascinator with a black lace veil draped over her face. She looked like she was going to a wedding. Or a funeral.
“I gathered as much.”
“I’ll get straight to the point.” She made a show of glancing at her wristwatch. “I don’t want to miss the ceremony. These things are usually a bore, but one must keep to one’s social obligations.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
She fixed Sabrina a hard stare for her sass, and it was like looking into a mirror.
She stared back, refusing to be cowed.
Eleni was the first to look away. She opened her handbag and drew out a piece of paper, extending it to her.
It was a check.
“I’m giving you enough money to tide you over until you find your next meal ticket.”
Whoa.
“You’re giving me money to stay away from Luca?” Sabrina felt like she had stepped into a television drama.
“Believe me. This is a better return for your time and effort,” Eleni said reasonably, as if what she was attempting to do did not smack of bitch crazy.
“Time and effort?”
“You’ll do better to accept my money than spend time with Luca just expecting the occasional trinkets or designer clothes.”
Sabrina’s cheeks grew warm with guilt. But she had no reason to feel guilty. She did not ask for those presents!
"You’ll never be more than a plaything to him, my dear. You’re not his type. Luca likes his women with something more going for them than just their looks. He’ll tire of you soon enough.” She tapped the edge of the check on her lip thoughtfully. “You’re just rebound sex.”
“You think Luca will get back together with you once I’m out of the picture?”
“I don’t think it. He will.”
“If you’re sure he will grow bored with me, why bother paying me off?”
Eleni’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “To expedite the process. We both know how it’s going to end.”
Not if Sabrina had anything to do with it. “Actually, Eleni, you don’t or else you won’t be here paying me a not-so-social call.” She snatched the check from a startled Eleni, ripping it satisfyingly in two. She fought the urge to throw it at her face and instead let the pieces fall to the floor.
The Greek woman’s mouth dropped open. Sabrina stalked out of the room, the memory of Eleni’s disbelieving face a small consolation for the desolation she felt.
Chapter 14
Don’t make me fall for you.
Her voice was a refrain in his head. Had she actually said it or had he just been dreaming? Luca stood up as the rest of the attendees in the centuries-old church rose when the bridal march played.
Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandria Maria Gallagher Ligueria was a vision in white as she floated down the aisle, a smile of serene happiness glowing on her face. They had never been particularly close when they had vacationed during those summers in Ligueria, and he had actually felt a little sorry for her growing up with their termagant grandmother. But in the past year since her engagement to a famous polo player, their paths had often crossed at some polo tournaments Argenti had sponsored. Those occasional meetings had rekindled their kinship.
Beside him, his mother was dabbing her eyes with her lace-edged handkerchief. Flanking him was Raphael, who leaned in and whispered in English so their mother would find it harder to understand in case she overheard, “I’m ditching the luncheon. I’m not in the mood for mama’s matchmaking.”
A luncheon was set to follow the wedding for official guests of the royal family and other family members and friends who would not be able to make it to the evening reception. They would be populated with their mother’s set and their single daughters.
He gave his brother a side glare. “So am I. It’s you
r turn to accompany her.”
Luca had planned on not attending the luncheon himself. Holing up in the yacht and drowning his sorrows in alcohol was the better alternative to hours of small talk. He already had an excuse. Chiara was still sick, so he still had to oversee preparations for the hotel relaunch. Now Raphael was ruining his plans.
“I accompanied her last time to the Milan ball, remember?”
Luca groaned silently. He was right. They loved their mother, but her not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking was mortifying even for grown men such as them. She trotted them out to her friends who were accompanied by single daughters and then after an introduction, left them to fend for themselves.
Luca was in no mood to be social tonight. He just wanted to be left alone.
Had she already left the yacht?
“How about Adriano? Why doesn’t he take a turn with mama?” Luca said out of the corner of his mouth. He knew he sounded like a whiny kid, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The expression on the groom’s face as he waited for his bride to reach his side–a mix of awe, tenderness, and love–was too much that Luca had to look away.
“Adriano will be busy playing the violin during the luncheon.”
“He won’t be playing the whole time¸” he protested, but he knew it was weak. Adriano had a tendency to be…distracted when he was playing. He certainly couldn’t be counted on to escort their mother around when he’d be up onstage. And God forbid any of the guests started throwing their underwear at him like at the wedding anniversary party of an aunt in Rome. He could still remember the look of comical disgust on his cousin Prince Stefan’s face when someone’s knickers landed on his lap. Chiara had giggled when Stefan gave the offending garment an efficient flick of his fingers and it landed on the dance floor. Adriano paused in his playing, went down the stage, scooped it up, winked at Stefan, and pocketed the underwear. Their mother looked on the verge of hyperventilating.
“You should have brought a date so she’d leave you alone.”
Luca marveled at the ability of his brother to speak without actually moving his mouth. They sat as the congregation sat. The priest started talking in English, a language that would be understood by the majority of the guests who had flown in from all corners of the globe.
Sabrina. She should have been with him right now. He would have kept her apart from Markos. With a congregation this big, he doubted he’d run into his friend if he specifically asked not to be seated at his table. Which he could have done if he wanted to with just a word in the event coordinator’s ear.
Don’t make me fall for you.
He had to wrench himself away from the bed, away from her when he had woken up. He kept his eyes averted, fearing he’d turn to stone with a glimpse of her sleeping form. But he couldn’t help it. He took one last look. It was worse. He didn’t petrify as he’d feared.
He cracked.
She had been chipping away at his defenses, little by little, that he hadn’t seen the fissures creeping and growing until it had completely surrounded his heart. One small tap of betrayal and his defenses had shattered.
He still wanted her though, even if she was an untrustworthy, lying bitch. It angered him. How she had revealed his true nature. He was as weak as his father was, susceptible to the allure of a beautiful, gold-digging temptress. If she had woken before he had left and asked him to stay, Luca would have never have left her at all.
Even now he was fighting the urge to walk out of the wedding and run after her.
“Speaking of dates, where’s Eleni?” Raphael smirked.
“How should I know?”
Their mother rapped her fan on the pew and mouthed “Silencio.”
Chastised, they remained silent for a few minutes. Luca angled his body unobtrusively when they stood up so he could take a peek at a few pews behind him. The Konstantinos brothers were present, minus the second one, Mikhalis. They were also with their mother. Eleni was indeed missing.
He should have been relieved she wasn’t present, but her absence caused his gut to clench in disquiet. He turned his attention back to the ceremony, but it was useless.
Would Sabrina take up again with Chase Latimer? Would she find herself a new lover? Or worst of all, would she get back together with Markos?
All the possibilities made his stomach turn, the same way it had when he saw the copy of Sabrina’s letter Markos had sent to his suite at The Medeia. He had given it a cursory glance and had flung it on the table. Raphael was sharing the suite with him or else he might have thrown a lamp or two. Instead he had sent for Olivia and gave her instructions to send the letter and several packages to the yacht.
“Making up with Eleni?” Raphael had quirked an eyebrow at the parcels.
“None of your damned business,” he had growled, and Raphael shot him an amused look at his uncharacteristic display of temper.
The ceremony dragged on, heavily interspersed with singing. A lot of it. The Liguerians had voices like angels and were he not preoccupied, he would have appreciated it. Only Adriano’s violin accompaniment to one of the church hymns during communion had snagged his attention. He hadn’t heard his brother play live in a long time.
After an hour and half, the happy couple was pronounced man and wife. Nicolas Fernandez was kissing his bride longer than was proper. Luca suspected there was tongue involved. Her brother Stefan was looking anywhere but the couple. When the bride and groom broke apart, Lexie’s cheeks were a bright pink. Her blushing reminded him of Sabrina. As if she had ever been actually far from his thoughts the whole damned ceremony.
It took them quite some time to navigate their way to the side exit of the church. A large throng of paparazzi was camped out at the front, and he and his brother wished to avoid it.
It seemed the Konstantinos brothers had the same idea. After a flurry of greetings in which they both paid their respects to the two matriarchs, Markos turned to him, cocked his head to the side, and strode a few feet away from the group.
He followed him silently.
“How is she?” Like him, the Greek billionaire was wearing a morning suit and tie and like him, he had donned a pair of dark sunglasses.
“She’s probably left the yacht by now.” A tiny, cracked fragment splintered in the vicinity of his chest.
Markos’ brows slashed together. “I was inquiring after Chiara.”
Chiara? Luca frowned. The two couldn’t stand each other and yet… “She’s feeling a lot better.”
Markos nodded, then said gruffly, “It’s not like her to miss her own event.”
Not like her?
His friend was only concerned about his sister, but he couldn’t shake off the suspicion that there was something more than casual concern in Markos’ tone.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
“Lay off my sister, Markos.”
Markos’ brows slashed downwards. His body grew taut, defensive. “What the fucking hell are you talking about?”
Luca had a sudden thought that Markos was moving in on his sister. He seemed genuinely surprised by his words though. The Greek billionaire was his closest friend and he knew how he operated around women. He’d regret beating him up, but not if he toyed with Chiara.
Raphael intervened. “Boys,” he said, clapping his hands on each of their backs and sliding himself in between. “It’s time to leave.” As the oldest, he frequently acted as the peacemaker of the group.
Raphael shot them each a warning glance, then looked pointedly to their mother and Mrs. Konstantinos, who were watching from some distance, a frown etched on their foreheads.
They were distracted by a new arrival in their midst.
Eleni Konstantinos.
His mother lit up. She was obviously on Team Eleni. Luca groaned silently. He had to escape before his mother lassoed him in.
Eleni was kissing the older women, making her excuses about being late. She had stayed at one of the back pews. She gushed about the wonderful, touching ceremo
ny. Her modulated voice carried to where Luca was standing with Markos and Raphael. She wished when she married that the ceremony would just be as beautiful.
Luca tugged on his tie. It was starting to suffocate him. The twins, Stelios and Nikos Konstantinos, gave him a commiserating glance.
A marriage between the two families to cement their long-standing friendship had been a dream of both sets of parents since they had been children. However, the propensity of the two families to produce males had left Chiara as the only marriageable female of choice. And Chiara was very vocal about her anti-marriage stance.
Enter Eleni Konstantinos. She had his mother giggling like a school girl. God only knew what they were talking about. He just hoped they weren’t plotting against him.
The vehicles to ferry them to the luncheon arrived. He had arrived with Adriano, who was nowhere to be seen. His mother had ridden with Raphael. Adriano had probably taken off with a bridesmaid and had forgotten to inform him. He whipped out his mobile. He had turned it off during the wedding and now several SMS came in all at the same time.
The last was from Antonia. He scanned the message quickly and cursed. Glancing up, he caught Eleni watching him. She smiled tauntingly, knowing full well he couldn’t confront her in front of the older women.
He fought the urge to march to where she was and shake a confession out of her, but he’d deal with her later. Luca jumped inside the car. To hell with where Adriano was. He had to find Sabrina. Fast.
* * *
The rest of Sabrina’s luggage from the hotel had already been transferred to the villa, according to the driver, when she had inquired about her things. The driver’s polite smile faltered when she didn’t appear appreciative of the hotel’s efficiency. She just hoped they hadn’t missed anything when they packed her stuff. She’d have to retrieve them after she had found a place to stay.
Sabrina pulled her carryall along. Never had she been grateful for the invention of wheels as she was now. Who knew she had to drag her stuff through the cobblestoned pavements of Coretta?
It was Seirenada’s oldest quarter, a tourist attraction, but at present it was deserted like a ghost town. The people had probably lined up on the main streets to catch a glimpse of the newly wedded couple as they made their way atop a carriage to the Royal Palace. She would have loved to be one of those waiting in the streets to catch sight of a real live princess. But she had her priorities.
When She Fell for the Billionaire Page 14