The Heir the Prince Secures

by Jennie Lucas

  But on the fourth...

  Everything in Tess rose up in rebellion.

  She thought of her mother, waiting eight years for a married man to leave his wife. She thought of herself, waiting over a year for Stefano to return to her, convincing herself that he was trapped on a desert island with amnesia.

  This was her life. Her baby’s life.

  No more settling.

  No more excuses.

  Esme deserved better.

  And, Tess realized with clarity, so did she.

  If Stefano didn’t love her and she stayed anyway, no matter how she tried to endure his coldness, eventually her love would turn to hate. What would their marriage be like then? A prison. For both of them.

  What would that teach Esme?

  Stefano had been nearly destroyed by his parents’ selfish cruelty. Even Tess, unthinkingly, had followed her own mother’s path when she’d let herself fall in love with an emotionally unavailable man like Stefano, who in spite of his warmth and goodness, seemed now as cold and unreachable as a distant star.

  Tess had learned to give too much. Stefano had learned to be selfish. He put himself first. Tess and the baby were mere baggage. Whether he took her with him on his travels or left her behind on a whim, he expected her to be his accessory. He expected to be the boss.

  Though my wife is amazingly talented, she’s focused on raising our daughter.

  She’d been a little hurt, but told herself it didn’t matter. Because there was something she wanted even more than to be a designer. She wanted to be loved.

  Now she knew she’d be neither.

  Tess closed her eyes, suddenly wishing she was back in New York with her family and friends. Wishing she still had a job, even a poorly paid one, where she could earn money and self-respect, rather than being dependent on Stefano, when he didn’t love her.

  She’d told him she loved him, and after one precious night, when he’d held her so tenderly, he’d left her in the morning. He’d abandoned her.

  Again.

  This was unbearable, she thought. She couldn’t let it go on.

  Now, standing on the balcony in the cool October night, Tess stared at Stefano’s terse message for the tenth time since she’d gotten it an hour before.

  On my way home. I think I know how to make you happy. Talk more tonight.

  What did it mean? Tess shivered. Was he going to tell her he loved her after all?

  Hearing her baby babble, she glanced back through the open door toward the master bedroom, where Esme, fresh from her bath and in footsie pajamas, was playing with soft blocks on the bedroom rug.

  Tess looked hungrily toward the pale sliver of road between the violet-purple hills leading to the castle. She expected Stefano any moment. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself for comfort. She’d hoped he would arrive before the baby’s bedtime, but it was almost too late...

  Then she saw the headlights. A car was racing toward the castle at a breakneck speed.

  She jumped, as if afraid of being caught waiting for him again. She hurried back into the bedroom, her hands shaking as she slid the balcony door closed behind her. Inside, her eyes caught her reflection in the full-length mirror.

  Tess’s pride hadn’t been able to talk her out of trying to look nice tonight. Her wild red curls tumbled over her shoulders, and she wore a simple dress of her own design, with pink roses patterned on black silk. Spots of feverish pink color stood out on her cheeks.

  “Bah!” Esme said proudly, holding up her chubby arms. The baby had recently figured out how to sit, but Tess always made sure to surround her with pillows for those moments when Esme would topple over with a crash.

  “You have a block! Good job!” Tess picked the baby up, cuddling her close, relishing her sweet smell. She thought of why she’d married Stefano. So they could be a family. So they could be happy.

  So they could love each other.

  Please, let him love me, Tess thought, closing her eyes. Please, let my faith be rewarded.

  She heard noises downstairs, as Stefano’s deep voice called out to staff in Italian and they answered. With his return, the castle seemed to come alive.

  Or maybe it was just Tess. She waited, practically vibrating, until she heard his heavy step in the hallway. Trembling, she turned to face the bedroom door.

  Stefano’s tall, broad-shouldered silhouette filled the space. He was wearing a well-cut suit and tie that perfectly fit his powerful, muscular body. His handsome face was serious. His dark eyes cut through her heart.

  “Hello, Tess,” he said quietly.

  “Hello,” she said, her heart pounding.

  Coming forward, he kissed her softly on the cheek. She inhaled his scent of soap and spice and power. She felt the warmth and heat of him so close to her.

  Please, she thought. Please, please, please.

  “And Esme.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. Gently he took the baby in his arms, giving her a kiss before turning back to Tess. “How was she?”

  “She missed you,” Tess said. “So did I.”

  Stefano’s handsome face suddenly became a mask. “It’s past her bedtime.”

  “I let her stay up, hoping you’d get here.”

  “Thank you.” His voice was courteous, impersonal. Tess bit her lip, feeling strangely awkward, as if she were speaking to a stranger, not her own husband.

  Oh, this was ridiculous.

  Biting her lip, she blurted out, “Stefano, you know we—”

  “I’ll put her to bed.” Holding the yawning baby, he turned away, pausing at the door. “Gerlanda has arranged dinner in the great hall. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  And he was gone.

  Tess felt numb. For four days, she’d yearned for her husband’s return. Now she felt afraid. What if her fears were right and her hopes were wrong?

  I think I know how to make you happy, his message had said.

  What could that mean, except that he was going to tell her he loved her? It had to be, she reassured herself. Straightening her shoulders, she went downstairs.

  The great hall was newly decorated with vases of roses, reminding her with a pang of the roses on their wedding night. A fire crackled in the large fireplace, and shadows shifted across the exposed beams and painted ceiling above.

  A small, intimate table for two had been set up beside the fireplace. Dinner had already been served and was waiting on china plates, beside linen napkins and sterling silver utensils. Nearby was a bottle of champagne on ice.

  Seeing that, Tess exhaled with relief, her heart filling with joy. She knew instantly that everything was going to be all right.

  Stefano loved her. That was what he’d come to tell her. Why else would they celebrate with expensive champagne?

  All the pain she’d felt for the last four days—all the uncertainty and fear—disappeared in a puff of smoke. It had all been worth it, because now she knew he loved her, and—

  “You look beautiful.”

  Hearing Stefano’s voice behind her, Tess turned with a smile. “You’re not so bad, either.”

  Shadows and firelight moved across the hard angles of his handsome face as he came forward. He pulled a black velvet box from the pocket of his black jacket. “I got you something.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Just loving me is more than enough.

  “You deserve it.” He opened the black box to reveal an exquisite diamond necklace, probably worth millions. He smiled when he saw her shocked expression. “Let’s see how it looks on you.”

  Nervously Tess lifted her hair so he could wrap the expensive necklace around her throat. She shivered at the touch of his fingertips. Attaching the clasp, he stepped back to look at her.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Numbly Tess reached up to touch the stones. She preferred the warmth of his hands. The diamonds felt cold and hard and heavy against her skin.

  “Shall we have dinner?” he asked, gently putting his hand agains
t her lower back to guide her.

  He held out her chair, then sat down on the other chair across the small table. For a few moments, they ate the pasta without words. Tess felt the silence like a knife. Why wouldn’t he just say it?

  “I missed you,” she blurted out.

  “And I missed you.” He paused. “I was wrong to leave you like that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  She exhaled. “It’s all right. You’re here now.”

  “Yes. And now,” he said, his dark eyes smiling as he reached for the champagne bottle, “we celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?” she said, her heart pounding.

  After popping the bottle open, he poured two glasses and handed one to her. “I was a fool. I should have seen this long ago.”

  “What?” she almost shouted.

  He was going to tell her he loved her. He was going to say it right now. And then everything would be all right. They’d be happy for the rest of their lives.

  Stefano looked at her. He was so handsome, his eyes so dark and devastating, that just looking at him made her heart squeeze roughly in her chest.

  “I want you to know,” he said, and leaned forward, “that I’ve just managed to hire Aiko Sakurai away from Zacco as Mercurio’s new creative director.”

  It was so unexpected it took her several seconds to even make sense of his words. She said weakly, “You did?”

  “Yes,” he said proudly. Reaching over the table, he took her hand in his own. “But there’s more.”

  Thank heaven. Tess nearly cried with relief. For a moment there she’d actually thought—

  “I’d like to hire you,” he said. “As associate designer at Mercurio.”

  Her jaw dropped. Her heart fell to the cold gray flagstones.

  “What?”

  “You’d answer directly to Mrs. Sakurai, whom you admire so much. No fetching coffee. Just doing the design work you love.” He beamed at her, then held up his hand sharply as if to ward off her protests. “I know you don’t have any experience, and it’s a big leap. But just think of what you can learn. Perhaps, in a few years, you could take over one of the smaller houses. Perhaps you can eventually take over Mercurio entirely. I have faith in you.”

  “But,” she said through numb lips, “you said it would be ridiculous for me to work at a major fashion house. You said I’d have to work such long hours, and be away from Esme...”

  “All my companies have on-site day care.”

  “I’d still be away from her for—how long did you say? Sixty hours a week?” Her voice trembled. “And away from you.”

  He shifted in his chair. “That won’t be a problem, at least for a few months. I’ve decided to sell controlling interest in my conglomerate.”

  “What!” she gasped. “Sell Gioreale? All your luxury brands? Even Mercurio?”

  He gave a single nod. “I’ll need to sell my shares at top price. Then I can make Fenella Montfort such an offer for Zacco that only a fool would refuse.”

  “So,” she said slowly, “I wouldn’t be an associate at Mercurio for long, would I?”

  His jaw set. “I’m sure the new CEO will wish for Aiko Sakurai to remain as creative director. She had global success at Zacco. She only left because she didn’t want to work with von Schreck.” He considered. “If she likes your work, she’ll want to keep you on her team.”

  Tess shook her head. “You’d really sell the company you built with your own two hands? Just for your family’s old company, with von Schreck as creative director? How can that be worth it?”

  He stared at her, then turned away, his jaw tight. “I’ll be traveling to get my company in order and ready for prospective buyers. In the meantime, you and Esme can go live at our apartment in Paris—”

  “Without you. So I can have a possibly temporary job that no one will think I’m qualified for.”

  Stefano was still holding up his champagne flute, obviously expecting her to clink her glass against his in a toast to their future. At that, he set it down.

  “I’m giving you what you want most,” he said slowly. “Am I not? Arranging a job with a mentor you admire. Putting you on the path to becoming designer of a major fashion house. I thought you’d be thrilled.”

  Tess stared at him.

  She couldn’t believe she’d done this to herself again—twisting the bounds of reason to talk herself into believing what she wanted to believe.

  He didn’t love her.

  He hadn’t even tried.

  Ice cut through her heart. She’d thought she knew him. In her mind, Prince Stefano Zacco was an honorable, dashing, scarred hero, Heathcliff and Mr. Darcy rolled into one. But the truth was that, throughout their marriage, as she’d made one compromise after another, sacrificing little fragments of herself for his sake, he hadn’t done the same.

  “I told you I loved you,” she whispered, trying not to cry.

  His jaw set. “And I told you, that’s not something I can give you. I wish it were.”

  “You didn’t even try,” she said miserably.

  Leaning forward, he grasped her hand over the table.

  “I can’t,” he said quietly. “So just take what I can give you, Tess. Take it, and be happy.”

  For a moment, she looked at him, at this magnificent great hall in the Sicilian castle, surrounded by diamonds and flowers and silver and expensive champagne, a fire roaring in the fireplace.

  All this elegance and grace, she thought dully. All something out of a fairy tale. A fashion magazine.

  Once, she’d yearned to be part of this world. If she stayed, if she agreed to his terms, she could be. All her childhood dreams could come true.

  Except the one that really mattered.

  Could she choose this beautiful, glamorous life, one that others would envy, when it meant she’d never be really, truly loved? Never ever, not until the day she died?

  The answer thundered in her heart.

  No.

  Love was what she wanted. Real love.

  And if Stefano couldn’t love her, she had to be true to her own heart.

  Pulling her hand away, she looked at him with tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She choked out, “I can’t.”

  Stefano appeared astonished. Then his black eyes glittered in the firelight. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  Her voice shook. “What’s the difference?”

  His dark brows lowered like a thundercloud. He growled, “Then what the hell do you want?”

  Tess looked at him and, with a deep breath, she made one final attempt.

  “What I want,” she whispered, “is for you to be brave enough to admit you love me, too.”

  *

  It was suddenly quiet in the great hall. Stefano heard the crackle of the fire as logs snapped and burned. He heard the roar of blood pounding in his ears.

  What I want is for you to be brave enough to admit you love me.

  Stefano had spent the last four days running from her. He’d fled first to Paris, then London and Madrid. He’d done it to check on the efficiency of Gioreale’s regional offices.

  No. That was a lie. He’d been desperate to escape Tess’s words. He couldn’t let her love him. He couldn’t love her back.

  And, yet, he couldn’t leave her.

  Today at dawn, he’d had the solution. Giving Tess, who’d never even graduated from design school, an important job at Mercurio was a huge risk. But it was a risk Stefano was willing to take. He wanted Tess to be happy. To be fulfilled.

  Just as he would be, after he got back control of Zacco. His family’s company was his destiny. His future legacy.

  What his father had lost, Stefano would win.

  But he wanted Tess at his side—smiling, adoring Tess, so caring and kind. To keep her as his wife, he was willing to do almost anything.

  But it hadn’t been enough. His name, his home, his jet, his fortune, and even his fashion house—all not enough for her. She continued to demand the one thi
ng he could not, would not give her.

  What I want is for you to be brave enough to admit you love me, too.

  Cold fury built inside him.

  “You think I’m not brave enough?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re calling me a coward?”

  A lesser woman would have quailed, retreated.

  Tess lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  He sucked in his breath, staring at her.

  Tess was no longer the naive girl he’d married, he realized, the one with rose-colored glasses and pink-hued dreams. Her lips, formerly always so ready to smile, were now pressed together in a thin trembling line. Her green eyes, which had once danced with optimism and hope, were flat, as if all the dreams had been pulled out of them.

  Because of him?

  He wanted the old Tess back. He wanted them to be who they’d been. He wanted to mess up her hair, to see her smile, to see her face light up with joy as he lowered his head to kiss her. His jaw tightened.

  “I can’t give you what you want,” he said in a low voice. “Why can’t you understand that?”

  “Why can’t you change?”

  Funny, he thought dimly. She’d been hoping all this time he’d change. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t.

  He said evenly, “Acquiring Zacco has to be my focus right now. Fenella Montfort is refusing to negotiate or even receive offers from my lawyers. It’s going to take all my time and energy to convince her to even see me. I am trying to make you happy in my absence. Trying to—”

  “I know what you’re trying to do.” Her eyes pierced his soul. “Buy me off. But I won’t be part of it.”

  His dark eyebrows lowered fiercely. He growled, “Tess, damn you—”

  “No.”

  Looking at her wan face, Stefano felt his heart twist. He suddenly wanted—

  No. He fought the feeling, focusing on his anger.

  “So what do you want me to do, Tess? Just stay here with you? Let Fenella Montfort keep Zacco? Surrender my family’s name forever? Our legacy?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “What I want is for you to start a new legacy.” She looked down at her hands. She was twisting her enormous diamond ring around her finger. “That company is not the only thing that bears your name.”