“I’ll say it some more then. Yes, yes, yes, yes—and now, tonight, won’t you stay just a little longer?”
She was way too tempting. So he let her guide him down to stretch out on the cushions—after which she promptly wriggled away and got rid of her shoes and then his, too. He put his feet up on the sofa and reached for her, pulling her against him so she was lying on top of him.
And she gazed down at him, eyes bright as stars now. “You were so angry when you got here. I was sure it was over, that I had pushed you too far and there was no hope.”
“I’m not angry now.”
“And I’m so glad. It all seems a little unreal, though. I can’t believe I finally put it all out there, told you everything. And you didn’t walk out. You’re still here, in my apartment, holding me tight...”
“I’m here,” he promised. “I’m right here.” He stroked her back and smoothed her hair. “Sunday,” he whispered.
She let out a low, husky laugh. “Comes after Saturday, last I heard.”
“This Sunday, day after tomorrow...”
“What about it?”
“You, me, breakfast with the family in the Sovereign’s apartments.” It was a tradition. He had eight brothers and sisters. They all tried to show up for the family Sunday breakfast whenever they could manage it. In recent years, there were wives and husbands and children, too. Some Sundays it was a big group.
She pulled away enough to make a pained face at him. “Sunday with your family. I don’t know. What will they all think?”
“They will be happy for me, that I’ve found someone special again at last.”
She laid her head against his chest. “Your mother is so amazing. I’m kind of intimidated by her.”
“There’s no reason to be.”
“Oh, come on. Some say she’s the best ruler Montedoro’s seen in five hundred years.”
“Yes, she is.”
“And she’s as beautiful as she is brilliant. Why wouldn’t I be intimidated?”
“She will see us together and she’ll be glad. She’s like all good mothers. She wants her children to be happy.”
“You have to see that it could be awkward. Everyone will know for sure that you’ve got something going with the nanny.”
“But you’re not the nanny. Not anymore. So that’s a nonissue—not that it ever mattered to me, anyway.”
She lifted her head and gazed at him steadily. “You really do mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I am so crazy for you, Max.” Her voice was soft, full of wonder.
He guided a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hold that thought—and you are coming with me and Nick and Connie to breakfast on Sunday. Stop trying to get out of it.”
“Oh, all right. Fine. I’ll be there.”
“Yes, you will. And tonight, dinner. I’m taking you out.”
She made a breathless little sound. “A real date.”
“Exactly. Be ready at seven.”
For once, she didn’t argue. She brushed a kiss across his cheek and whispered, “Yes, Your Highness.”
He held her tighter. “You and me,” he said, to make certain she understood. “For all the world to see.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“That’s the spirit. Kiss me again.” She did, wrapping him in her softness, in the scent of her hair. When she lifted her head, he groaned. “On second thought, maybe I should stay a little longer....”
She brushed another light kiss against his mouth. “I wish. But I know you like to be there, in the morning, for breakfast with Connie and Nick.” And with that, she slid off him, bringing another groan from him as she shifted away. Kneeling, she handed him his shoes. He sat up and put them on.
Then she followed him to the door.
“It’s so strange,” she whispered, her hands on his shoulders, her forehead pressed to his. “I’m almost afraid to let you go. I’m afraid that in the morning, I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.”
He tipped up her chin, kissed her one more time. “It’s already morning, my darling. And this is no dream.”
* * *
When he was gone, Lani wandered to the sliding door and stared out at the night, at the shadowed olive trees on the hill beyond the terrace. She was smiling to herself. Eventually, she turned and went to bed, feeling light as a moonbeam, her feet barely touching the floor.
She peeled off her yoga pants and sweatshirt, took off her bra and her panties. Naked, still smiling, she climbed between the sheets and closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds, a deep, contented dreamless sleep.
Chapter Five
“Dinner out tonight with Max?” Syd laughed in delight.
“Shh.” Lani pointed at Ellie, who was asleep on her lap.
Syd lowered her voice. “Good for you.” They were sitting in the kitchen at the villa. Trev had made short work of his lunch and gone off to the playroom. “Good for both of you.”
Lani stroked Ellie’s silky curls. The little one muttered a nonsense word in her sleep. Lani whispered, “That’s not all. He asked me to come with him and Connie and Nick to Sunday breakfast with the family. I said I would.”
“Wow. The man is not fooling around.”
“He’s...something special.”
“You really told him everything, the whole story?”
“I did. And he was wonderful.”
“You are wonderful,” Syd declared. “Remember that.”
Lani grinned. “Well, you are my best friend. You have to say that.”
Syd seemed to study her. “You know, it feels kind of right, the more I think about it. You and Max not only both love sitting in the library talking Montedoran history for half the night, but you’ve also both seen some rough times. You fell for an egotistical, alcoholic SOB who broke your heart and practically cost you everything. He lost Sophia so suddenly, so tragically.” His wife had died in a waterskiing accident. “You both deserve a big dose of happiness.”
Sophia. Lani had seen pictures of her—in Max’s apartment and in the long hallway to the throne room, which was lined with portraits of generations of Calabrettis. She’d been tall, slim and elegant. With auburn hair and hazel eyes. “It’s strange about Sophia,” she said. “Somehow, Max seems...protective of her, of her memory. Or maybe it’s just that he never says much about her, about his life with her.”
“You’re worried about that?”
“I guess so. A little. It’s like...there’s a mystery there.”
“Think how you’d feel if he never stopped talking about her.”
Lani considered that option. “Good point. I suppose I should just admit I’m jealous of her. She was so beautiful. The daughter of a Spanish grandee. And I’ve heard the stories. That they had loved each other since they were children, that they always knew they would marry.”
“Yeah. And they married early. I think Rule told me they were both twenty. Pretty young.”
“Maybe it’s just that he will never get over her, really, and that bothers me. I mean, who wants to compete with a memory?”
For that remark, Syd gave her an eye-roll. “Well, you could start by not borrowing trouble. The man is showing clear intent when it comes to you. He’s heard your darkest, deepest secrets and he’s still hanging in. He’s bringing you to breakfast with the family.”
“Okay, I hear you. I’ve got nothing to complain about.”
“The big question is do you want to be the Princess Consort one of these days?”
“Oh, come on.”
“What do you mean, come on? It could happen. It seriously could. You know how the Bravo-Calabrettis are. They marry for love. If you two have that, well, wedding bells will be ringing.”
“No, they won’t.”
“T
hey could. They absolutely could.”
“Syd, everyone knows that Max is never getting married again.”
“Everyone assumes that Max is never getting married again. That doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“Yes, it does. He told me so himself, months and months ago.”
“Wait a minute. You two discussed getting married months and months ago?”
“Not like that, not in terms of him and me. It just came up naturally out of another conversation.”
“Another conversation about...?”
“Syd, honestly. You are so pushy sometimes.”
“It’s part of my charm. Another conversation about...?”
Lani gave in and told her. “The Prince’s Marriage Law.” The controversial law decreed that each of Montedoro’s princes and princesses had to marry by age thirty-three or be stripped of all titles and disinherited. The law was put in place to help ensure early marriages, like Max’s to Sophia, because early marriages are more likely to be fertile and provide potential heirs to the throne. “We were in the library at night, just Max and me, and we were discussing the Marriage Law. We went on from there to talking about marriage in general. I told him how I didn’t think I was even cut out for marriage, or that I would ever have children. And he said he understood, that he didn’t plan to marry again, either.”
Syd made a humphing sound. “That is all just so wrong in so many ways.”
“It’s how I feel—and how he feels, too. Not everybody wants to get married. Not everyone is cut out to be a mother.”
“If anyone is cut out to be a mom, it’s you. You’re letting what happened in the past steal your future from you.”
“Syd. I’ll say it again. It’s how I feel.” Ellie stirred in her arms. Syd opened her mouth to argue, but Lani put a finger to her lips and pointed at the baby. They were quiet for a moment, waiting, as Ellie sighed and settled back into sleep.
Syd whispered, gently now, “People change. You might find, as time goes by, that you want a life with the right man, you want children of your own to raise. And as for Max, well, whatever he said in the library months and months ago, that was then.”
“Then?”
“Yeah, then, when you were calling yourselves ‘friends.’ Everything is different now.”
“Not that different.”
“Oh, yeah. That different. Wait and see. And remember this conversation, because one of these days in the not-too-distant future, I’m really looking forward to saying I told you so.”
* * *
After she left Syd, Lani went to the library and worked for a while. The ancient librarian, Oliver Laurent, greeted her with more enthusiasm than he’d ever shown her before. He brought her some reference books she needed on Montedoran law in the sixteenth century to help her work out a plot point. And then he congratulated her on her big sale.
“His Highness Maximilian told me about it a week ago,” the librarian said. “He’s quite pleased, as are we all—and really, you’ve been coming here to work and study for almost two years now. I think it’s time you called me Oliver.”
“I would like that. But you will have to call me Lani.”
He said he would be delighted. And then he slid her a sly sideways glance. “You will be sure and tell us when the books will be available?”
Lani took the hint. She thanked him for his good wishes and promised to provide signed copies to the library, to him personally and to his assistants as soon as she received her author’s copies—which, she warned, would be more than a year away for the first of the three books.
At four, she went out into the gardens looking for Gerta, who often brought Constance and Nick outside after school. Gerta greeted her with a hug. Connie had a friend over. They were playing with their dolls a few feet from the bench where Gerta sat.
Lani sat next to Gerta and asked, “Where’s Nick?”
“Still at school.” Both Nick and Connie attended Montedoro’s highly rated International School. “They have an after-school swim program now.”
“That’s perfect for Nicky. He can swim off some of that energy.”
“He’s a handful, all right. How’s the new place?”
“Cozy.”
“Ah. You like it, I think.”
“I do. And Gerta, I...” Somehow, she didn’t know how to go on.
A small smile tipped the corner of the older nanny’s mouth. “You and His Highness, eh?”
Lani stole a quick glance at the two little girls. They were busy with their dolls, lost in their own world. “How did you know?”
“I have eyes. And ears. Also, you should have seen his face when I told him you were no longer Trev and Ellie’s nanny and that you had left the palace.”
Lani felt more than a little ashamed. “He was really angry that I didn’t tell him.”
“Oh, yes. He was tense and preoccupied for days. Then last night late, I thought I heard him go out. And this morning at breakfast he was all smiles.”
“We worked it out, I guess you could say. And tonight, we’re going to dinner.”
Gerta nodded. “He’s a good man, the prince. He was the sweetest little boy, so helpful and kind. I keep hoping Nicky will grow to be more like him.”
“It’s the age. Most eight-year-olds are ready to run the world—or at least to knock themselves out trying to get things their way.” Lani still wasn’t sure of how Gerta felt about her seeing Max. “You’re...okay then, with the idea of Max and me spending time together?”
“You make His Highness happy. And I did help to raise him. He may be a grown man, but to me, he’s still the good little boy who always wanted to do the right thing and would tell me he loved me when I tucked him in his bed at night. So if you make him happy, I’m happy.” Gerta patted her hand. “The question is, are you?”
“Yes, of course, I...” She blew out a slow breath. “I have to admit. It’s all kind of new and scary.”
“Only if you make it that way,” said Gerta. “Life is short. Savor every minute.”
“I’ll try.”
Gerta tipped her face up to the thin winter sun. “I admit it might get a little difficult when the press gets hold of it.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“You’ll be fine. Do what they all do, all the Bravo-Calabrettis. Hold your head high, show them no weakness and never let them see you cry.”
* * *
Max came to get her that night in a black limousine. His driver held the door for her and she ducked into the waiting embrace of the smooth leather seat.
But she wasn’t careful enough of her short black dress. It rode way up. The driver shut the door and she tried to be subtle about tugging the skirt back down where it belonged.
Max watched her plucking at her hem, a smile flirting with those fine lips of his, looking every inch the prince in one of those suits that probably cost more than she made in a year—well, last year anyway. This year would be better due to that nice, fat advance check she was getting.
“Nervous?” He leaned a little closer. He smelled wonderful, as always, a heady combination of subtle, expensive aftershave and pure manliness.
“I feel...I don’t know. Naked, somehow.”
He leaned closer. “You’re not. You look beautiful and all the naughty bits are covered.”
She poked him with her elbow as the driver pulled away from the curb. “It’s not what I meant.”
He grew more serious. “You’re still afraid to be seen in public with me.”
She put on her seat belt. “Well, yeah. I mean, being as how you’re such a complete loser and all.”
He hadn’t hooked his seat belt. So it was easy for him to slide the rest of the way across the plush leather. He put his arm around her. “You’re mean when you’re nervous. I don’t
care. I like you next to me, whatever mood you’re in.”
She liked having his arm around her, liked the feel of him, of all that hot and muscled good-smelling manliness pressed against her side. “If we get in a wreck, you could go through the windshield.”
He nuzzled her neck. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Spoken like a man born to privilege.”
He caught her ear and worried it a little between his teeth. She felt a rush of heat across her skin. “I love to touch you. I love that you’re finally letting me touch you....”
She couldn’t stop herself. She turned to him. They shared a kiss. It was slow and very sweet. The feel of his mouth on hers was a miracle to her. She could just climb in there and swim around in all that heat and wetness. Finally, she whispered against his lips, “I’m not walking into a restaurant on your arm looking like I just had sex in the car. So slide back to your side of the seat, please.”
He chuckled. But he did as she asked. “It’s going to be fine. No one will bother us. You’ll see.”
“I know that. I’ve seen how careful the reporters are here.” In Montedoro, the tabloid journos kept their distance from the princely family. Security was unobtrusive, but everywhere. Reporters and photographers who got out of line were quickly escorted to the French border and invited firmly never to return. “It’s only...”
“Say it.” He did that thing, holding her eyes, making her feel she could trust him with anything. Her life. Her future. Everything she’d almost thrown away in the past.
She tried to explain. “Everything’s changed overnight. Since New Year’s, I’ve been running away from you. Now I need to stay right here beside you. I’m not sure of how to do that yet.”
He offered his hand. She took it and twined her fingers with his. His touch soothed her frazzled nerves. “I’m here.” He made the two words into a promise. “Hold on to me.”
She dredged up a smile for him, one that hardly trembled at all.
* * *
The restaurant was beautiful, in the Triangle d’Or, the area of exclusive shops and hotels in the harbor area near the casino. And Max was right about how they wouldn’t be bothered.
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