by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
What a mess.
‘Have I made you late for your next appointment?’ she asked.
‘No. Salvatore has rearranged my diary slightly.’
Which made her feel even more guilty. And it was another reason for Lorenzo’s assistant to disapprove of her. ‘Why didn’t you just wake me up?’
‘Because you looked comfortable.’
‘Did you tuck me in?’
He nodded. ‘And Caesar was happy to keep you company.’
‘He’s a nice dog.’
‘He’s horribly spoiled,’ Lorenzo said, but his tone was indulgent.
If only he’d just come over to her and hold her close. How could they be in the same room and yet the gap between them feel wider than the geographical distance when they’d been in different countries?
‘I, um, forgot to ask Salvatore which hotel he’d booked me into,’ she said. And she really hoped it was one with a reasonable tariff, rather than a super-luxury one with an astronomical room rate. Her finances wouldn’t run to the kind of places that Lorenzo would stay.
‘You’re not. You’re staying at the palace.’
Staying with him?
For one mad moment, she thought he was telling her that this was going to be just like Edensfield, and they’d spend their nights curled up together and wake in each other’s arms. Then common sense kicked in as he began speaking.
‘We have several apartments for guests.’
‘I’m not really a guest,’ she said. ‘I’m here to work.’
‘Maybe a bit of both,’ he said. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to your suite.’
And maybe there, in private, he’d be different with her. She damped down the flicker of hope before she got too carried away. Of course he wouldn’t. He was about to be the king. He didn’t have time for this.
‘Where’s your suitcase?’
A prince most definitely couldn’t wait on her. ‘It’s light. I’ll carry it myself.’ And she gave him a look just to make quite sure he knew she meant it; she was used to relying on herself, and that was the way it would continue to be.
‘As you wish,’ he said coolly, and she wished she hadn’t been quite so quick to knock back his offer. He came from such a formal, restricted world. How would he know how to be anything else?
She still felt faintly groggy, but she followed him through the corridors with the little dog trotting along beside them. Lorenzo stopped by a door and opened it. ‘Your suite. I’ll let you freshen up.’
So he wasn’t planning to spend too much time in private with her, then. She was really in danger of misreading everything. Best to keep it cool, calm and super-professional. ‘Thank you very much. Perhaps we can reschedule our briefing meeting.’
‘Of course. You still have my mobile phone number, yes?’ At her nod, he said, ‘Call me when you’re ready and I’ll come and collect you. Not because you’re a prisoner, but because the castle’s a bit of a maze and until you know your way around it can be a bit daunting.’
‘Thank you.’ Not that she was ever going to get to know her way around this castle.
He kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘Come on, Caesar. We need to let Indi settle in,’ he told the spaniel, who gave Indigo a mournful look, but followed him down the corridor.
When he’d left, Indigo explored the suite. The sitting room was huge, with a sofa, coffee table and a couple of armchairs. There was a shelf of books in a variety of languages, a television and a state of the art music system. The bathroom was just acres of marble, with the most enormous walk-in shower, a deep bath and thick fluffy towels. The bedroom held a huge oak four-poster bed, with a wardrobe running the length of the room, a cheval mirror and a chest of drawers. She opened the wardrobe doors and hung up her clothes neatly. A couple of business suits, a couple of pairs of jeans, and Lottie’s ball gown; and how meagre her outfits looked in that enormous space. Even if she’d had her entire wardrobe with her, her clothes wouldn’t have made much impression.
The pillows looked deep and soft and inviting; she glanced longingly at them, then shook herself. She’d already made enough of a fool of herself, falling asleep on Lorenzo’s sofa while she was waiting for his meeting to finish. If she let herself give in to the demands of her pregnancy now and slept again... Well. Lorenzo was sharp. He noticed little details. And she wasn’t ready for him to put them all together and work it out for himself. She wanted to tell him the news herself.
Just not quite yet.
She showered and freshened up, then called Lorenzo’s mobile.
It went straight to voicemail. Which wasn’t so surprising.
‘It’s Indi. The time’s four-thirty in the afternoon. I’m ready whenever you are,’ she said, then hung up. She had no idea how long he’d be. But, given that she’d slept straight through their meeting, she was hardly in a position to demand anything.
* * *
She worked on her laptop for a while, until there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ she called.
Lorenzo walked in, with Caesar at his heels. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘No problem. I know you’re busy.’
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘I meant to ask you, is there anything you’d like for dinner tonight so I can tell chef?’
‘Anything, really,’ she said, not wanting to be difficult. As long as it didn’t have a strong smell. Not that she could explain to him why she wanted bland food without opening up a conversation at totally the wrong time. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to feed me.’
He smiled at her. ‘We’re not going to starve you, Indi. I wish I had time to have dinner with you tonight myself, but something’s cropped up.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said. Of course he wouldn’t have dinner with any of his contractors. Not unless it was scheduled in and rubber-stamped by Salvatore.
‘I would have asked you to come with me this evening, but it’s state business and it’ll be horribly dull.’
At least she would still have been with him, but never mind. She damped down the hurt. ‘I know you’re up to your eyes,’ she said softly. ‘It’s OK.’
Just for a second, the formality in his face vanished and he looked lonely and lost, as if she was the first person who’d actually noticed that he was struggling to deal with everything. And, after all, it was a huge weight he was about to shoulder, becoming the state leader of his country.
Then the moment passed and Lorenzo was back to being His Royal Highness, ever so slightly remote and aloof. ‘Is there anything else you need?’
Only for you to hold me and tell me that everything’s going to be all right, she thought. But she knew she couldn’t ask for that. Better to stick to business. ‘It’d be useful to see the room where the window will be sited.’
‘Of course. I can take you there now.’
‘That would be good. I’ll bring my equipment so I can measure up and take photographs.’ Then she grimaced, remembering how he’d been about photographs at Edensfield. ‘That is allowed, yes?’
‘I’m not going to make you hand over your camera or delete the files,’ he said with a smile, clearly remembering their first meeting too.
‘And they won’t go anywhere but my computer—I won’t download them anywhere,’ she said.
‘I know. But thank you for the reassurance.’
Once she’d gathered her camera, notepad and laptop together, Lorenzo ushered her down the corridor.
Everywhere there were thick carpets and wood panelling; and all the surfaces were so shiny that it was clear there must be a huge number of staff all dusting and polishing the castle to perfection.
‘State dining room,’ he said, opening one door and letting her peek inside.
Solid gold cutlery, was Indigo’s first thought. Followed by
solid gold candelabra.
She was used to opulence, from her visits to Edensfield, but this was another world entirely. And she’d just bet the crystal glasses were antique, just as any meal served at that table would be presented on antique porcelain.
‘Drawing room,’ he said, showing her the next room. She glanced at the comfortable upholstered chairs, antique occasional tables and arrangements of fresh flowers—and then stopped dead. ‘Is that a Burne-Jones over there on the wall?’
He nodded. ‘It’s the portrait of my great-great-grandmother I told you about.’
‘May I?’
‘Of course.’
She walked over to it and studied it for a while. ‘It’s beautiful—you’re very lucky.’
‘Salvatore knows a lot about our art collection. Talk to him tomorrow. He’ll show you round when he has a moment.’
She didn’t think that Salvatore would unbend enough with her to do that, but smiled politely. ‘Thank you.’
Finally Lorenzo led her to a room at the very end of a corridor. ‘This is where we thought the window could be sited—in the library.’
Like the mermaid window at Edensfield, she thought, and was filled with wistfulness. She would love to have the Lorenzo from Edensfield back rather than the formal, very polite and very guarded stranger walking next to her.
‘This is one of my favourite rooms in the house,’ he said as he ushered her into a long room.
The two longest walls were lined with books in dark wooden cases with glass fronts and a sliding wooden ladder, so anyone who wanted a book from the upper shelves could reach them. But there were also a couple of leather chesterfields and a low coffee table with a chessboard on it. There was a desk sited in front of a large window with a number of gold-framed photographs—and she’d bet it was solid gold, not gilt framing—and a grand piano in the centre of the room.
And that, she thought, was why it was Lorenzo’s favourite room. No doubt he spent as much time at that piano as he could. Which wouldn’t be very much, now.
The spaniel pattered over to the fireplace and stretched out on the rug, clearly used to being there.
There were some stained-glass windows at the far end of the room. ‘Is that where you want the new window?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
As they passed the desk, she glanced out of the window and saw the rose garden. ‘Oh, that’s gorgeous,’ she said, noting the way the colours of the roses blended. ‘It’s like a rainbow of roses.’
He looked out. ‘I’ve never really noticed that before, but you’re right.’ He smiled at her. ‘Funny, I thought I knew everything about the castle, but you’re making me see it with new eyes.’
There wasn’t much she could say to that. She distracted herself by taking a couple of photographs and making a couple of sketches. And, unsurprisingly, he had half a dozen messages on his phone that he needed to answer.
He’d just finished with them when she took out her tape measure. ‘Need a hand measuring?’ he asked.
‘If you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘That would be helpful.’
But, as she finished the last section, his hand touched hers briefly, and it felt like electricity coursing through her veins.
‘Indi,’ he whispered.
She looked up at him and he dipped his head, brushing his mouth against hers. She closed her eyes as he deepened the kiss.
God, she’d missed this so much. Missed him so much that she felt the tears stinging her eyelids.
And then she dropped the tape measure.
On his foot.
He broke the kiss and retrieved her tape measure. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I probably shouldn’t have done that.’
She knew what he meant. The attraction was still there. The same feelings they’d had for each other back at Edensfield. But this was a different world and he just wasn’t free to give in to those feelings.
Which made it even harder for her to tell him about the baby; she knew he had such a strong sense of duty and he’d want to marry her for the baby’s sake. But she most definitely wasn’t a suitable royal bride, so marriage was out of the question.
Time to back off—and to change the subject, before she said something stupid.
Be professional, she reminded herself. This is about your job.
‘Would you mind sitting for a couple of portraits?’ she asked. ‘Photographs, I mean. I’m not going to make you sit for hours while I sketch you.’
He raised an eyebrow, as if remembering their conversation about the fairy tales with a twist. ‘You really need to do that?’
‘If I’m putting you in a stained-glass window, then the portrait needs to look like you,’ she pointed out.
‘I guess so.’
‘And it would be useful to see your robes of state, or whatever it is that kings wear.’ Not just because she could use them in a pose, but because it would remind her of who he was. That he was out of reach.
‘Ceremonial robes,’ he said.
‘And a crown.’ Just to hammer it home.
‘We can do a crown,’ he said, looking thoughtful.
‘And where does all this happen? The cathedral?’ She forced herself not to think about the fact that the cathedral would also be where he would eventually get married. To a suitable princess.
‘Yes—and there’s a special coronation chair. I’m scheduled to show you round tomorrow.’ He met her gaze. ‘Or Salvatore can, if you’d rather.’
* * *
It would probably be easier if Salvatore showed her round, she thought. Then she wouldn’t slip up and say something inappropriate, because she’d remember who she was talking to and why she was here in Melvante. She’d have it at the front of her mind that this was strictly business and not because Lorenzo wanted her there.
But, to do her job fully, she needed to understand what was in his head. How did he feel about becoming king? And she’d slept through the briefing meeting, so she still had a dozen or more questions. She needed to know if they wanted him to look serene, statesmanlike, or what.
‘I’d rather you showed me round, if you don’t mind—that means we can catch up with the briefing meeting I missed, too. If you’re sure you can spare the time,’ she added quickly.
‘I’ll make sure I do.’ His phone shrilled; he glanced at the screen and sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I need to take this.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll find my own way back to my quarters.’
‘Are you sure?’
She smiled, giving him her bravest face. ‘If I get lost, I can always ask someone for directions.’
‘OK. We’ll talk later,’ he said.
It was weird to be wandering through the palace on her own, Indigo thought as she left the library. She felt like a trespasser; she really didn’t belong here. Lorenzo had said that the castle was home and he had happy memories of the place, but to her he looked tired and slightly strained. He’d retreated behind formality, apart from that brief kiss—and he’d apologised for that straight away, telling her outright that it had been a mistake.
Right at that moment, she couldn’t see any common ground between them. It underlined how sensible she’d been to say no when he’d suggested continuing their affair. Lorenzo as a man—yes, she could trust him enough to fall in love with him. She already had. But His Royal Highness Lorenzo had so many walls up that it could never work.
She still had to tell him about the baby. It wouldn’t be fair either to him or to the baby to keep that quiet. But no way was her baby growing up inside the walls of this quiet, formal, over-restrained palace. She wanted a home where a child could laugh and shout with joy—not an old-fashioned place where children were shut away in a nursery and should be seen and not heard.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THIS REALLY W
ASN’T going how Lorenzo had expected. Indigo was completely different, out here; she seemed nervous and quiet, not like the independent, sparky woman he’d fallen for in England.
He wanted to hold her and tell her how much he’d missed her. He wanted to kiss her again and feel her warmth seeping through him. But he also knew how his mother had felt so trapped at the palace, and he didn’t want that for Indigo. No way would he push her into something that would make her unhappy.
And that was the final proof that he wasn’t his father—because, if he had to, he was prepared to let Indi leave.
But first he was going to do his utmost to persuade her that sharing his life here wouldn’t be so bad.
He raided the palace gardens before his meeting; afterwards, he grabbed a quick sandwich, then dropped in on Indigo. ‘Sorry,’ he said, handing her the flowers. ‘I’ve been a rubbish host so far.’
She looked surprised. ‘You didn’t need to do that, but they’re lovely. Thank you.’ She breathed in their scent. ‘And I understand that you’re busy. The coronation’s very soon and you have tons to do.’
‘Yes, and Nonno’s away for a few days—that’s why I haven’t introduced you to him yet.’
‘I’m kind of nervous about meeting your grandfather,’ she admitted.
‘There’s no need.’ He spread his hands. ‘Nonno’s a pussycat.’
‘He’s a king,’ she corrected.
‘He’s a man first,’ Lorenzo said softly. Just as he was. But could Indigo learn to see that?
* * *
Indigo didn’t want to fight with Lorenzo, so she said nothing, but she disagreed with him completely. If you were in that position, no matter how much you wanted to be seen as a person first, you’d always be seen as what you were rather than who you were. ‘I’d better put these in water.’
He followed her into the kitchen and helped her find a couple of glasses to contain the flowers. ‘Sorry. I didn’t think this through properly. I should’ve brought you a vase as well.’