Harlequin Romance August 2014 Bundle

by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate

  And hopefully seeing Lorenzo in a dinner jacket—looking a bit too much like the actor who played James Bond for her comfort—wouldn’t make her do anything rash...

  * * *

  Lorenzo knew the second that Indigo walked into the room, but he forced himself not to turn round and stare at her.

  They hadn’t yet discussed whether they were keeping their mad fling just between themselves, so for now he was going to err on the side of caution. Besides, what if she’d come to her senses during the afternoon and had changed her mind?

  He played it as cool as he could when Gus beckoned her over to join them. He couldn’t read her expression at all. But then, just for a second, she dropped the guard on her gaze and he could see the heat in her eyes. He returned the glance, hoping that she could read exactly the same thing in his eyes, and then they went back to polite, neutral conversation.

  Except inside he was far from feeling polite and neutral.

  Last night’s dress had been the equivalent of a cheeky come-hither whistle.

  Tonight’s was clearly meant to be demure. Except it wasn’t. The velvet dress skimmed her curves and just made him want to see more. And he wanted to undo every single one of the tiny buttons on the back of her dress and kiss each millimetre of skin as he bared it.

  Not to mention seeing that glorious hair spread all over his skin.

  Right now, he could really do with a cold shower to shock some common sense back into him.

  For all he knew, he was speaking utter gibberish and he could barely concentrate on the people he was speaking to. This was insane. He never lost it like this. What was it about Indigo Moran that made him react like this?

  It made it worse that he was seated opposite her at the dining table. So near, and so out of reach. He knew it was appallingly rude of him, but he just wanted dinner and all the social chit-chat to be over, so he could be on his own with Indigo and kiss her until they were both dizzy.

  ‘And she drags me off to the most obscure little churches,’ Lottie was saying, but her tone was so indulgent that Lorenzo could tell she wasn’t really complaining.

  ‘And you love it, because it always means finding a nice little tea-shop nearby afterwards,’ Indigo teased back.

  ‘Exactly. It’s so civilised. Where would we be without afternoon tea?’ Lottie asked. She ruffled Indigo’s hair. ‘Actually, it’s lovely to know someone who can find beauty so easily and help others see it. I’m so going to get you that “vitrearum inconcinna” T-shirt we saw at the stained glass museum that time.’

  ‘Glass geek,’ Lorenzo translated with a smile. That would be just about perfect for Indigo.

  Indigo gave him a sassy look. ‘I’m glad to see that prince school didn’t skimp on your education in Latin, Your Royal Highness.’

  He coughed. ‘Given my native language, it’d be pretty embarrassing if I didn’t know any Latin.’

  ‘Though I guess you’d call it il vetro antico.’

  He inclined his head. ‘Or maybe il vetro artistico, depending on how old it was.’

  Gus topped up their glasses. ‘We really should’ve introduced you two years ago. You could’ve had so much fun out-geeking each other.’

  Indigo laughed. ‘I’m not that competitive.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Lorenzo drawled, and she just laughed again.

  From the chatter over the dinner table, Lorenzo could see how well Indigo fitted in at Edensfield; she was clearly loved by all the family, not just Lottie, and it sounded as if she was a regular visitor to the estate. He wondered why they’d never met before, given how long they’d both been friends with the family. Maybe they’d just visited the house at different times. But surely she’d been invited to Gus’s wedding to Maisie two years ago, when he’d been Gus’s best man? Though he didn’t remember meeting her then, and he was pretty sure that he would’ve remembered.

  And then he looked up to discover that she was watching him. He raised his glass casually, as if to take a sip of wine, then held her gaze and gave her the tiniest, most discreet toast.

  She smiled, and copied his actions.

  So she hadn’t had second thoughts about their mad fling, then. Good. And funny how it made him feel so warm inside. To the point that, after dinner, Lorenzo let Gus coax him into playing the piano for them. They all crowded into the library round the baby grand, and Lorenzo played the slow bit of Beethoven he’d played for Indigo that afternoon. He hoped she’d work out that he was playing it for her. Would it make her think of the way he’d kissed her afterwards in this very same room? He sneaked a discreet glance in her direction, and the slight wash of colour in her face was gratifying in the extreme. Yup. She was thinking about that kiss, too.

  And then he switched to pop, choosing songs that he knew would get everyone singing. Then he discovered something else about Indigo. Her singing was terrible.

  But he liked the fact that nobody called her on it. She was just—well, part of the family and accepted as one of them. Something he had a feeling she hadn’t experienced that much.

  He saw her expression change from pleasure to utter horror, the moment she realised that she was singing aloud, and he had to fight back a smile. Did she really have no idea how cute she was?

  ‘I’m afraid I’m going to be a bit of a party pooper,’ she said, when he stopped playing. ‘I need to load the photographs I took this afternoon and finish off the restoration blog post for tomorrow morning.’

  In other words, she was embarrassed about her singing and was desperate to escape, he thought. How could he tell her that it didn’t matter, without bringing up the very subject she wanted to avoid? And if he asked her to stay, he might as well be wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with ‘Hey, everyone, I’m interested in Indigo’. Or worse.

  Lottie gave her a hug. ‘Don’t work too hard, Indi. You’re not here as our slave, you know. You’re here as our friend.’

  ‘I know,’ Indigo said. ‘But I’m also here to do a job.’

  ‘And you love your job more than anything else.’ Lottie ruffled her hair. ‘Go be a glass geek, then. See you later.’

  According to Lottie, Indigo loved her job more than anything else. Which made Lorenzo wonder again about the man who’d clearly hurt her in the past. Was she using work to block it out? Then again, he didn’t have much room to talk. He’d always had workaholic tendencies, too, trying to make up for the way his father had disappointed his grandfather. Which was stupid, because you couldn’t make up for someone else. He knew that. But he still couldn’t seem to stop himself trying. And Indi had already admitted that she did the same. She was the first person he’d met who really understood what made him tick. Was it the same for her, too?

  He stayed at the piano for just long enough to be polite and make it seem that he wasn’t following Indigo, and then he headed over to her workroom and leaned against the doorway. To his surprise, she really was typing away on her laptop; so maybe her swift exit hadn’t just been an excuse because she’d been embarrassed by her voice.

  She looked up and saw him, then gave him a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. I’m an awful singer.’

  ‘Don’t apologise,’ he said. ‘Actually, it was nice that the music carried you away. And you don’t have to be perfect at everything, every second of the day.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ But she didn’t sound convinced.

  Why was she so hard on herself? Was it something to do with the strained relationship with her father? But he had a feeling that Indigo’s flaw was the same as his own: she tried to be perfect. When she wasn’t, she covered it up by being boho and arty. When he wasn’t...well, that didn’t happen. He always did the right thing.

  Except for this mad fling with her. Which he wasn’t going to let himself think about.

  ‘You’re busy,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you be.’ He paused. ‘Unless y
ou want some coffee.’

  ‘Coffee would be very nice,’ she said softly. Then she looked him straight in the eye. ‘But you would be better.’

  His common sense vanished entirely. ‘I’m giving you fair warning that I’m about to switch to troglodyte mode,’ he said.

  She blushed, just a tiny bit. ‘Good. Though you should have noticed that I dressed demurely tonight.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’

  ‘High neckline, low hem.’ She gestured to her dress.

  ‘An indigo dress for Indigo.’

  ‘That’s what Sally said when she gave it to me. My friend from art school—she was studying textiles. We shared a flat and I sometimes used to model for her.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a copy of an Edwardian design. What’s not demure about it?’

  ‘The buttons,’ he said succinctly.

  ‘The buttons?’

  ‘The ones down the back of your dress. They make me want to undo them.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ She gave him a slow, insolent smile. ‘Give me ten minutes to check this and upload it. My room?’ Then she paused and looked awkward. ‘Wait. Your security team.’ She bit her lip.

  ‘Bruno and Sergio? They’re discreet. Totally and utterly.’

  ‘It still feels a bit...’ She grimaced. ‘Well. As if we have an audience.’

  ‘We don’t,’ he reassured her. ‘This afternoon, when I was playing the piano, they knew I was in the library and they left me to it because they knew I needed some space. They didn’t see me kiss you then, or the evening before.’ He paused. ‘I take it you want to keep this just between us?’

  She nodded. ‘It’s a temporary thing,’ she said softly, ‘and we both know nothing can ever come of it, plus we’re both staying at a friend’s home. We’re not in our own space.’

  ‘If you’re worrying about what people might think of you,’ he said equally softly, ‘I’d say the corridors of this house have seen plenty of people quietly slipping through them in the dead of night to a different bedroom, over the years.’

  ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘Sorry, I’m being silly. Not to mention very unsophisticated.’

  ‘No, I know what you mean.’ He smiled at her. ‘I did wonder if you’d changed your mind.’

  ‘I thought you might’ve changed yours.’

  He shook his head. ‘Every time I remember that I’m this sober, sensible and ever so slightly boring man, I look at you. And then all I can think is how much I want to kiss you.’

  ‘In that case, it would be terribly rude of me not to let you,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll see you in ten minutes,’ he said. He checked which room was hers and was pleased to find that they were at least on the same corridor. There would be nothing more embarrassing for both of them than for him to be found wandering around on the wrong side of the house—because then Gus and his family would guess exactly what was going on.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Indigo was in her room. Adrenalin was fizzing through her veins, and she couldn’t sit still; she couldn’t even concentrate on browsing through the latest textbook on glass she’d bought before coming to Edensfield, planning to study it in her free time. Instead, she found herself pacing the room and looking at her watch every two seconds.

  All she could think about was Lorenzo. The fact that he’d be coming to her room. The fact that they’d be starting their mad fling. And it made her feel like a teenager after her first kiss, light-headed and giddy with desire.

  Well, the giddiness had to stop. She was going to enjoy every second of this, but she was also going to keep remembering that this was temporary. No promises on either side. And then they’d both be able to walk away with their hearts intact. She wouldn’t be broken and helpless and hurting, the way she’d been after Nigel. She’d be strong and happy and absolutely fine.

  There was a soft rap on the door.

  Lorenzo.

  She could barely get the words out. ‘Come in.’

  He walked in looking even more like James Bond, still wearing his dinner jacket but with his shirt collar open and his bow tie untied. And he had both hands behind his back, just as you always saw royal men walking. It brought it home to her that she was having a mad fling with a king-to-be. How crazy was that?

  But then he lifted her up and swung her round before setting her back on her feet. ‘Indigo Moran, I’ve wanted to kiss you all evening.’

  ‘I’ve wanted that, too,’ she admitted. ‘A lot.’

  ‘Good.’ He traced the edge of her face with a fingertip. The feel of his skin gliding against hers made every nerve-ending fizz.

  ‘Kiss me, Lorenzo,’ she whispered.

  He did.

  Slowly. Taking his own sweet time about it and heating her blood to fever pitch until she forgot everything else except him.

  He removed the sash, spun her round so her back was to him, scooped her hair over her shoulder to bare her nape to him, and then traced the edge of her dress with one fingertip. ‘I like this, Indi,’ he said. ‘The softest velvet. Except your skin’s even softer. Though I need to prove that theory. Empirical evidence is very important.’ He undid the first button, then the next, and stroked every centimetre of skin as he uncovered it.

  And then she felt his lips brushing her skin very lightly. She shivered. ‘Lorenzo.’

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘And you smell of roses.’

  She smiled. ‘It’s my favourite scent. I love the garden here in summer because it’s like drinking roses when you breathe.’

  ‘I’m going to think of you every time I smell roses,’ he said, and traced a path with his mouth all the way down her spine.

  Then he turned her to face him again, slid the dress off her shoulders, and scooped it up from the floor when she’d stepped out of it. To her amusement, he hung her dress neatly over the back of the rococo chair next to the matching dressing table. ‘Details?’ she asked. ‘Or are you just a buttoned-up neat freak?’

  ‘Details,’ he said. ‘Attention to them is...’ His gaze heated. ‘Essential.’

  Meaning that he intended to pay very close attention to her? Her knees went weak at the thought.

  ‘You’re wearing too much,’ she said, aware that she was only wearing skimpy, lacy underwear and the only thing out of place for him was his bow tie. ‘I think we need to even this up slightly.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ he asked.

  The choice was too delicious. ‘I’m not sure whether I want you to strip for me, or whether I want to undress you myself,’ she confessed.

  ‘I have a practical solution. Pick one,’ he said, ‘and you can do the other next time.’

  There was definitely going to be a next time?

  ‘Then right now I get to undress you,’ she whispered. And she did it very slowly, helping him shrug out of his jacket and then enjoying discovering the texture of his skin as she unbuttoned his shirt. ‘I’ve changed my mind about you being James Bond. I think you’re Mr Darcy.’

  ‘Are you suggesting skinny-dipping in the lake, Ms Moran?’

  ‘No. It’s like the director said—it’s better when something’s left to the imagination.’ She smiled. ‘But you in a white shirt, rising out of the lake and looking all sexy—yes, that would be very nice. Very nice indeed.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he promised. ‘You’d make a rubbish valet, by the way.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘You’re much too slow. I’ve lost patience.’

  ‘Pulling rank, are we?’ she teased. The king-to-be and the commoner.

  ‘Totally.’ He kissed her, and swiftly finished stripping. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her at a distance so he could look his fill. ‘Indigo Moran,’ he said huskily, ‘you are totally luscious.’ With that, he pick
ed her up and carried her over to the bed.

  And after that neither of them spoke for a long, long time.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEXT MORNING, Indigo woke, her head pillowed on Lorenzo’s shoulder and his arms wrapped round her.

  For a moment, she felt cherished and safe.

  And then she shook herself. That wasn’t the deal.

  Even so, she couldn’t help wondering: how long had it been since she’d woken like this, wrapped in a man’s arms?

  She really couldn’t remember.

  She’d dated men before Nigel, but she’d been more focused on her work than on relationships in art college. She’d wanted to prove to her grandparents that she’d done the right thing in rebelling against the education her father had planned, and that she wasn’t flighty like her mother. She’d always put her studies first. And it had paid off, because she’d ended up with a first-class degree and a job working for a very prestigious glass studio.

  Though Indigo hadn’t been one for all work and no play. She’d attended plenty of parties, dated whoever she wanted to see, and when it had suited her she’d let things go further than a chaste kiss good-night at the door of her flat. But committing to a relationship, putting herself in a position where her heart could be broken—she’d avoided that as much as possible, keeping her relationships light and fun through college and most of her working life.

  Until Nigel.

  And that had been the biggest mistake of her life. She’d fallen in love with him and got her heart well and truly stomped on in the process. And, with Nigel, she’d never actually woken in his arms. He’d never stayed overnight in the six months they’d been together and he’d never invited her back to his place, saying that he lived and worked on the other side of London from her and the extra commute would be a nuisance for both of them.

  Why had she never questioned that? Why had she just accepted it?

  But there was no point in beating herself up about the past. Indigo knew she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. This time, she was protected against heartbreak. Right from the start she and Lorenzo had agreed that this was just a mad fling. One with a time limit. She wasn’t going to fall in love with His Royal Highness Prince Lorenzo Torelli. This was going to be light and sweet and fun, a kind of respite for both of them. And she was going to enjoy every second of their fling.