The Princess and the Rebel Billionaire

by Sophie Pembroke

To do that, he suspected he’d need to get her to open up and tell him the story of the last time she tossed aside her crown for a while. And perhaps that was something she needed to work up to.

  So he’d start small instead. See if he could show the Princess that taking risks could be fun, sometimes. Even outside the bedroom.

  Isabella stirred in his arms, and Matteo smiled to himself as he bent to kiss the top of her head, settling more comfortably down beside her. He wouldn’t sleep any more, he knew, not now he had adventures to plan. But she was going to need her rest.

  She wanted a week off from being a princess? Well, then... Matteo was going to give her the best week’s holiday she could imagine.

  And maybe by the end of it, she wouldn’t want to stop.

  ‘So, what are we going to do today?’ Isabella asked, some time later that morning, as they shared coffee and a late breakfast on the balcony outside their rooms.

  Matteo raised his eyebrows in what he’d been told was an expressive manner, and she rolled her eyes.

  ‘Is your plan to spend the whole week here in bed?’ It wasn’t, of course. But he couldn’t quite tell if she was actually disapproving of that idea, or just felt some princessy need to pretend she was.

  ‘Would that be such a terrible plan?’

  When she smiled, her dimples popped into existence, and it made Matteo smile back, every time. They didn’t show up, he’d noticed, in her official Princess Isabella smile, the one she’d given him that first night they’d met—the smile she was displaying in every single photo of her that seemed to be in the public domain, at least the ones that he’d been able to find online.

  The dimples only appeared when she was truly smiling with happiness or amusement. Matteo had started counting the number of times he got to see them, and the total was already gratifyingly high.

  ‘Maybe not terrible, exactly,’ she said, her voice a soft purr. ‘But I figure we might need a small break. Sometimes.’

  Matteo sighed dramatically. ‘Oh, I suppose you’re right.’

  She tossed a small piece of bread at him, then giggled and ducked when he tried to throw one back.

  ‘Actually, I had thought we might go on a small adventure today,’ he said, once the mini food fight had died down.

  Across the table, Isabella stilled with what he knew instinctively was apprehension. Fear, even. Fear that felt more than just a general nervousness of the unknown, somehow.

  ‘What sort of an adventure?’ Her tone was cautious. Matteo supposed he didn’t blame her. After all, he was famous for choosing the more extreme sort of adventures.

  ‘I’m not going to force you to go skydiving or anything,’ he said to reassure her. She didn’t look particularly reassured. ‘I thought we might take the boat out on the lake.’

  She blinked. ‘Boat?’

  ‘The one that was tied up by the jetty. We saw it yesterday?’

  Her cheeks turned pink. ‘Oh, yes. Of course.’

  ‘You did see the boat, right, Isabella?’ he teased. ‘I mean, you weren’t so distracted by something that you failed to even notice the big boat tied up right next to you?’ Okay, so it was quite a small boat in reality, but the point still held. She’d been so focused on his kisses, his touch, she’d lost all track of her surroundings.

  The thought made his body start to tighten, and he was reconsidering the whole boat-trip idea when she tossed another piece of bread at him—this time, covered in jam.

  ‘I saw the boat,’ she said shortly, and he was fairly sure it was a lie. ‘But do you really think we should take it out? I mean, I don’t know anything about boats. Would we need to take one of the security team with us?’

  ‘It’s a fairly basic boat; I’ve driven them before. And there are life jackets here somewhere, I’m sure. We’ll be fine. We won’t even go too far from the villa, if you don’t want to.’ It was the smallest step he could think of for her to take, after she’d already taken the much bigger one of allowing him into her bed.

  But it could be the first step to a new mindset for her. One where she didn’t always automatically say no to things, until she was compelled to change her mind by events—or, in their case, sheer physical chemistry.

  She looked down at her hands, suddenly the reserved, unsure Princess she’d been on arrival again—rather than the mischievous Isabella who tossed bread at him and made him come completely undone in bed. He watched as she came to a decision, lifted her chin and, with a determination he didn’t really feel the suggestion warranted, said, ‘Okay, then. We’ll go out on the lake.’

  Matteo smiled to himself. Stage one of his plan was complete.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ISABELLA WAS NOT at all sure that this was a good idea.

  On the face of it, a short trip out on a boat on a lake, still miles away from anywhere, wasn’t exactly a dangerous threat. But she was compiling a mental list of reasons this could be a disaster anyway.

  1) They could capsize and drown, despite their life jackets.

  2) Some paparazzi on a boat might find them and take photos through those ridiculous long lenses they had, and then her parents would know she wasn’t with Sofia and it would be like Nathanial all over again.

  3)...

  Okay, that was all she had for now. But surely they were reason enough not to risk it?

  She sat, tucked up in her life jacket, at the far end of the small boat from where Matteo was starting the engine. Despite the life jacket he wore—at her insistence—she could still enjoy the sight of his arm muscles as he worked to untie them from the jetty, the thick muscles of his thighs as he braced himself against the movement of the boat. She swallowed as she watched a bead of sweat work its way down his neck in the bright June sunlight...

  Right.

  3) They might not be able to keep their hands off each other, even on a damn boat, and then they’d take their life jackets off and cause the boat to capsize and then they’d definitely drown. Probably while paparazzi took photos of her naked, and it would be even worse than everything with Nathanial had been.

  ‘You’re catastrophising,’ Matteo said mildly as the boat chugged away from the jetty.

  Isabella blinked. ‘I’m what?’

  ‘You’re thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong out here on the water.’

  ‘No, I’m...’ He gave her a look, and she sighed. ‘Fine, I’m catastrophising. But that’s what keeps me safe—thinking about all the things that could go wrong before they happen.’

  It was a lesson her father and mother had drilled into her after Nate. That she was not somebody who could just take chances, or jump at opportunities and see where they led, or—and this one was said with a certain amount of disgusted disbelief—follow her heart.

  She was a Princess of Augusta, and with that privilege came expectations, amongst them the always unstated rule that she would not cause any sort of scandal to fall upon the royal house.

  Well, unstated until that horrible week after Nate had left, at which point it was stated quite firmly and repeatedly, as if she had somehow missed it in the undercurrents of her upbringing.

  She hadn’t, of course. She’d just believed that love trumped duty somehow. She’d believed in happy endings, and in everything working out for the best.

  She knew better than that now.

  She knew better than to be on this boat. To be in Lake Geneva at all. To be spending the week in the bed of a most unsuitable man.

  But she was doing those things anyway, even though she knew what her parents, her brother would say.

  You’re making the same mistakes all over again.

  Except Matteo wasn’t Nate, and they weren’t in Augusta, where her every move was tracked and recorded and reported. There was a privacy agreement in place with the M agency; she’d checked.

  They were alone in this
part of the lake; the sun was shining down and it was a beautiful day. She should relax and enjoy it.

  Except she couldn’t.

  Matteo settled himself opposite her in the small boat, where he could watch her and where they were going, which she appreciated.

  ‘Can you trust me to keep you safe?’ he asked softly. ‘Just for today?’

  On the face of it, it was a ridiculous question. He was a risk-taking daredevil, known for his chequered history with women and famous for driving too fast around racetracks. He was the last person anyone should trust to keep them safe, right?

  But once again, Isabella’s heart spoke louder than her head. ‘Yes,’ she said gently. ‘I trust you.’

  Matteo smiled, as warm as the June sun. ‘Good. Then sit back and enjoy the trip.’

  The lake was surprisingly peaceful, once she’d stopped catastrophising. Isabella leaned back against the edge of the boat and tipped her chin so the sun streamed down on her face as the air brushed past her, raising the ends of her shorter curls around her shoulders.

  ‘You are very distracting up there, you know,’ Matteo said, and when she looked up, he was watching her intently.

  ‘If you try and seduce me here we’ll capsize the boat.’ That wasn’t catastrophising. That was physics. She knew how...vigorous their lovemaking could get.

  ‘More’s the pity.’ Shutting off the small engine, he let the boat drift a little on the water. ‘Well, if seduction is off the table, how about lunch?’

  Isabella sat up with interest. ‘We have lunch?’

  ‘Of course, we have lunch.’ Matteo grinned. ‘I found it ready for us in the kitchen before we left, all packed up in a cool bag.’

  ‘The invisible servants really do know their stuff.’ Had they heard them talking about going out on the boat, or just guessed when Matteo went searching for life jackets? Either way, they were as good at anticipating their needs as any of the staff at the royal palace. Leo or her father would probably want to steal them if they knew about their existence.

  Which they wouldn’t. Because once this week was over, Isabella would never speak of it again, and she and Matteo would be the only people in the world who ever knew it happened.

  She’d never speak to Matteo again either, probably. Certainly never make love to him again.

  ‘Hey.’ Matteo frowned as he paused in pulling out the food from the bag. ‘What just happened? You look like the sun just disappeared.’

  Isabella forced a smile, shaking her head to rid it of the thoughts. They wouldn’t go. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, when it was clear that her smile wasn’t enough to convince him. ‘I was just thinking about what happens after this week is over.’

  He stilled for a moment, then placed the container of strawberries he was holding on the seat between them that was serving as a table.

  ‘You mean between us? Or for you?’

  ‘Both, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, I expect that depends on you, really, doesn’t it?’ he said, his tone careful.

  He really was from a different world if he believed that. ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Because of the princess thing?’

  Her whole life reduced to a ‘princess thing’.

  ‘Because there are expectations placed on me.’

  ‘Stay out of trouble and marry a duke? Isn’t that about the size of it?’ He made it sound like nothing. ‘Because the thing is, Isabella, I kind of had the feeling that princesses were people too. Real flesh and blood people, who felt things and wanted things and deserved to live their lives the way they wanted.’

  She could feel his words in her veins, filling her body with the hope of them. Reaching across the seat between them, he ran his fingers up her hand, before circling her wrist with them, the pads of his fingertips resting on her pulse point, feeling the beat of her heart as it thrummed through her.

  ‘See?’ he whispered. ‘Not just a princess.’

  Isabella pulled her hand away. ‘Maybe not. But I am a Princess of Augusta, and that means something. Maybe not to you, but to my family, my country. And to me.’

  How had this conversation got so deep, so fast? She wanted to go back to tossing jammy bread at him or sinking her body down on top of his.

  They should have just stayed in bed today after all. This whole thing was much easier to navigate between the sheets than out of them.

  He sat back, studying her so keenly that she had to force herself not to fidget under his gaze. ‘Wouldn’t your family just want you to be happy?’

  She almost laughed, the idea was so absurd. ‘Have you met many kings and queens?’

  ‘A few,’ he replied, with a shrug. ‘But I’ll admit I never had time to discuss their daughters’ sex lives with them.’

  That did make her laugh, despite herself. How did he do that? Always lighten the moment, just when she was getting down?

  ‘So what would the obedient Princess of Augusta do next?’ he asked.

  That one was easy. ‘She’d go home to the palace and continue life as always. Public engagements, charity events, hospital visits, that sort of thing.’ When she couldn’t get out of them.

  ‘And blind dates with aristocrats you already know you don’t want to marry.’

  ‘That, too.’ But in some ways, Isabella had come to realise, that was better than the alternative. Because at least when she went into something knowing it wasn’t for ever, that it wasn’t even what she wanted, her heart couldn’t be broken at the end of it. Not this time.

  ‘Okay.’ He leant forward, his forearms resting on those muscled thighs as he held her gaze. ‘And what does Isabella want to happen next?’

  Something else. She had no idea what, but there had to be more than just that, didn’t there?

  Except last time she’d tried to reach for it, her whole world had almost come crashing down.

  ‘The same thing,’ she said coldly. ‘I am the Princess, after all.’

  ‘Of course.’ His eyes were sad. ‘And I don’t suppose the Princess would be allowed to socialise with a reckless, common-born racing-car driver, either.’

  ‘I don’t suppose she would.’ Isabella ignored the sharp, short pain in her chest at the thought.

  Matteo turned away, his attention apparently back on steering the boat again, even though they weren’t moving. ‘Then it’s just as well we agreed at the outset that this was just for the week. We can have all the fun we want together, then go back to our real lives as if it never happened.’

  ‘Just as well,’ she echoed, and wondered how to convince herself that she wasn’t lying.

  Their boat trip hadn’t exactly given him the information he’d hoped for from Isabella, but Matteo had to admit it had crystallised exactly where they both stood in their current situations.

  They’d agreed that first night that this could only be for the week, and it wasn’t as if he was even looking to change that. But the idea of Isabella being stuck in a life that was so obviously suffocating her...that unsettled him. A lot.

  Still, she was a princess. Maybe that royal status—and the money, prestige and luxury that went with it—was more important to her than happiness, or freedom. It would be for a lot of people, he knew. Money might not buy happiness, but it could buy a hell of a lot of other things, as he’d discovered as his career had progressed, and the prize pots and sponsorship deals got bigger.

  Matteo wouldn’t judge. Well, he wouldn’t judge much.

  But he might feel a little bit of pity.

  They’d separated and gone to their own rooms after their outing on the lake, both intuiting the need for a break from the unrelenting closeness of the past day or two. But it was already Thursday, and Matteo knew that their time together was limited; he didn’t want to waste any more of it. Four days down and three more to go...

  He knew he should just relax an
d enjoy Isabella’s company while he had it. But somehow, that wasn’t enough. He needed...what, exactly? To help her? To change her?

  Or just to know that he’d had an impact on her life. That this week had meant something to her.

  Because he was starting to feel as if seven days with Princess Isabella of Augusta might have more of an impact on his life than he’d ever imagined it could.

  At the end of it, he’d walk away with a smile and a kiss and a thank you, the way he did with all of his love affairs. And he was perfectly happy with that plan.

  He just didn’t try to fool himself any more that forgetting Isabella would be as easy as forgetting any of the women who had come before her.

  M knew what it was doing, after all. The dating agency had found him someone who, in another world, could have been his perfect match. He’d thought that meant someone like him—someone to take adventures and risks with, because she had the same adventurer’s spirit as him.

  Instead, they’d given him someone who needed him. Someone who he could ease out of her comfort zone, even while she calmed him. Not to the point of being a different person—he was still hankering for his next adventure. But when he was with her...it was as if she soothed his restless edges. As if he could rest for a while, between risks.

  Being needed reminded him of his brother. Being soothed reminded him of his mother. The two people he’d loved most in the world, both of them gone, now.

  And Isabella...she could be...

  No.

  He didn’t want that kind of love again—not when he knew how easily it could be taken from him, the way his brother and his mother had been. And he didn’t want the obligations love forced on him, either. He’d seen it with other drivers on his team, and in races. They fell in love, they got married, started families even—and that was when they lost their edge. Because taking risks for themselves was easy; taking risks for people they loved was another game entirely. One that not many were made to play.

  He needed those restless, reckless edges of his. He couldn’t let Isabella smooth them down too much, whatever Gabe and the others hoped.