‘I will,’ he promised. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away, not as long as he knew Isabella was so close. ‘But we need to get back in there now.’
The thought of leaving her, of having to deal with all this, was making him shake. He stumbled, his hand slipping on the door handle until it opened, and the sounds of the ballroom surrounded them.
‘We’ll...we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?’ he managed, as he staggered back into the room. ‘Wait here, then follow me in a few minutes. Okay?’
Isabella nodded, but he could see the fear in her eyes, even in the dim lights.
Matteo shut the door behind him and walked away. He needed to get away from the balcony before Isabella came out. He needed to be someone unsuspicious. To look as if he were having a perfectly ordinary evening—and his entire world hadn’t been turned upside down.
He scanned the ballroom until he found Gabe—a solid, fixed point in his suddenly reeling world.
Gabe was a good manager and a better friend. While Matteo had no doubt Gabe knew where they were and what they were doing, he’d managed to keep Isabella’s brother away from the balcony, holding him in conversation with a variety of people Matteo recognised by sight.
That was good. Taking off in the other direction, he headed for the bar, and a drink—making sure to keep the door to the balcony in his line of sight as much as he could. Leaning back against the bar, he watched Isabella reappear, slightly mussed, but still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He saw the moment her brother spotted her and excused himself from Gabe. He saw Gabe clock Matteo on the other side of the room before he let him go.
And he heard the conversation between the royal siblings as they passed by him, heading towards the rest of their entourage.
‘I just needed some air, Leo, that was all,’ Isabella said. But her eyes met his for a moment, and he couldn’t stop his smile. Even with everything, just looking at his Princess made his day better.
Luckily, the Crown Prince was oblivious to his presence. But not his existence.
‘I was starting to worry you’d run off somewhere with that racing driver,’ Leo joked. ‘Honestly, Bella, we really do need to stick together at these things. Who knows? I might want to introduce you to someone you might find...suitable.’
The emphasis on ‘suitable’ was almost innuendo, and Matteo’s grip on his glass tightened at the sound of it.
Of course, he wasn’t suitable for a princess. He’d known that from the start.
But that didn’t change the fact that she might just be carrying his baby. And that as terrifying as that was...it didn’t feel like the end of the world.
Matteo threw back the whisky in his glass and wondered how long he had to wait before he could get out of there.
And how long before he could steal Isabella away again, to start figuring out what the hell they did next.
Oh, he really hadn’t ever prepared for this sort of risk. But as long as they figured it out together...maybe it would be okay.
Isabella didn’t sleep that night.
She wished she’d managed to slip Matteo her mobile number, or something, so at least they could have kept in touch over the long hours before they saw each other again. But even if she had...they needed to have this conversation in person.
She just hated waiting for it.
Finally, the morning sun slipped through the curtains of her hotel suite, and she allowed herself to get up and dressed. She chose a sundress more like the ones she’d worn in Switzerland, rather than one of the more formal outfits Gianna had packed for her; she didn’t want to be Princess Isabella today. Not with Matteo.
Perhaps he had been unable to sleep, too, because when she snuck downstairs for the first breakfast serving, uncomfortably aware of her security team following her as she went, he was already seated at a table in the corner.
The hotel staff tried to usher her towards a private seating area, offering to bring her whatever breakfast foods she desired, but Isabella sent them away with a smile. She wanted to choose her own food, from the buffet, just as all the other guests would be doing; otherwise, she might as well have had breakfast alone in her room. Which, now she thought about it, was probably what the hotel staff—not to mention her security team and her brother—would have preferred.
Before Lake Geneva, that was exactly what she would have done. But things were different now.
Isabella motioned the bodyguard flanking her towards an unoccupied table in the corner, indicating that she’d follow shortly when she’d chosen her food. The buffet was in clear line of sight from the table, so he didn’t object.
Helping herself to a plate, Isabella lingered by the watery scrambled eggs, and waited to see if Matteo would take the hint.
‘You know, I could take you to about seven different cafés in walking distance of this hotel that would do you a better breakfast than this.’ His voice, low and familiar by her ear, sent a warmth coursing through her that had nothing to do with summer.
‘Then maybe you should,’ she murmured back. ‘Any suggestions on how I might get out of here alone, though?’ She didn’t risk a glance over her shoulder at her bodyguard, probably watching their every move.
Matteo didn’t even pause to think; she suspected he’d been planning this all morning. ‘The corner by the coffee station is hidden from sight, but there’s another door out that way. Go get some coffee, and I’ll distract your security guy. When you can see he’s occupied, slip out the side door of the hotel and meet me there. I’ll be as quick as I can; just stay out of sight.’
She nodded, to show that she’d heard him, then picked up her plate and headed for the coffee station, while Matteo walked away in the other direction. Giving her bodyguard a smile, she lifted a coffee cup from the stack to show her intention.
Her heart was racing at the idea of actually following through with the plan. But, she reminded herself, she wasn’t just taking this risk for herself. It was for the baby that might be growing inside her right now.
That was most definitely worth taking risks for.
‘Hey, aren’t you Matteo Rossi?’ she heard her bodyguard say as she ducked into the coffee area.
Smiling to herself, she listened to Matteo agreeing to sign an autograph, and getting into a deep discussion about his teammates’ chances in the next Grand Prix, then slipped out of the promised door and headed for freedom.
She tucked herself behind a pillar just outside the hotel and waited. Matteo joined her not long after, grabbing her arm and taking off at a steady clip around the back of the hotel. ‘Come on.’
Isabella wasn’t even properly surprised when she found herself on the back of a motorcycle, a few moments later, a black helmet crammed over her head and her arms wrapped tight around Matteo’s waist as he took off through the streets of Rome.
A wonderful sense of freedom, one she hadn’t felt since she’d left Lake Geneva, rushed over her with the wind. This, this was what she’d been missing. Well, this and everything Matteo had given her on the balcony the night before...and everything else she wanted from him. Was it the motorcycle or him making her throb between her thighs?
Probably both, she decided as he swung around another corner and finally pulled to a halt.
‘Where are we?’ she asked, pulling off her helmet, and hoping her hair wasn’t completely wrecked. She ran her fingers through her tangled curls and hoped for the best.
‘Just around the corner from the Forum, and the Coliseum.’ Matteo shrugged. ‘I figured we can walk and talk, you can see a little history, and then we’ll get pizza before I take you back. Sound okay?’
Isabella nodded. Leaving the bike parked in a side street, helmets attached, they headed out into the historical centre of Rome. Matteo held out a hand to her and she took it, conscious as they joined the streams of tourists wandering the ancient, excavated streets of the Forum
that they could be any other couple, enjoying a summer’s day in Rome.
The only thing that ruined the illusion was the tension in Matteo’s shoulders, and the way she couldn’t help but check over her shoulder for any sign of the palace security team catching up with them.
‘So,’ Matteo said, after a while of just wandering amongst the ruins. ‘I guess we need to talk.’
He’d chosen a good place for it, she realised belatedly. Here in the open air, with so much conversation and chatter, and people moving past them all the time, who was there to listen in on such an intensely private conversation? And who would realise the consequences of it, even if they did listen?
In a restaurant, they might have been photographed together, or recognised by a waitress who later sold her story. Matteo was far more famous here than she was—her bodyguard had proved that—but with his cap pulled low over his face, hopefully no one would recognise him.
She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, we do.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, and she looked at him with confusion until he shook his head and clarified. ‘Not about talking. I mean, about...have you taken a test?’
‘Not yet,’ she admitted. ‘It’s not the easiest thing to do with the whole palace watching you.’
‘Right. Do you...do you want to? I could find a pharmacy...’
Isabella sighed. ‘I’ll need to, soon. But for now... I’m over a week late, Matteo. I think we have to assume it’s likely, given our last night together in Switzerland.’
That damn broken condom. Although, without it, would she even be here, in Rome, exploring with Matteo like a tourist? She doubted it. More likely, she’d be still locked up in the palace, itching to escape but not knowing where or how.
At least this had focused her. Shown her how much the freedom she’d found with Matteo had given her.
She’d already known how much she’d missed him.
‘Yeah. So...assuming you are...’
‘Pregnant,’ she said, since it seemed that he couldn’t.
‘What do you want to do next?’
And wasn’t that the million-euro question?
‘I... If there’s a baby, I want to keep it.’ That part was easy. However hard it might be, however scandalised Augustan society, however furious her family. This was her baby, and no one could take that away from her. ‘Is that a problem?’
Matteo looked horrified. ‘I wasn’t suggesting—I didn’t mean—Isabella, of course I support you if you want to keep the baby. I guess all I meant was... I’ll be guided by you on this. It’s your body, your choice.’
Your reputation, he didn’t add, but Isabella could hear it in the air between them, all the same.
She wouldn’t have risked it for anything else, they both knew that. But a baby...that changed things.
‘What about you?’ she asked, to drive the thought away. ‘Would you want to be involved? Or even acknowledged? I mean, nobody has to know, if you don’t want to be part of this.’
Grabbing her hands, Matteo yanked her out of the path, against a crumbling ruin of a wall, and met her gaze with his own, intense green one.
‘Bella. If you are pregnant with my child, of course I will be a part of that. I’ll marry you in a heartbeat if you’ll let me—or if the King and Queen will, I suppose. Having a family with you will be my next big adventure, I guess.’ He flashed her a quick smile at that, but it did nothing to diminish the seriousness of what he was offering.
If she was pregnant, he would marry her. Because for all that he was a reckless, daredevil playboy, he was also a good man. He’d do the right thing.
Even if he didn’t want to.
And that was the problem. There’d been no mention of love, in any of his grand declaration. If she hadn’t come to Rome and told him about the possibility of the baby, would he have ever come to find her? She wasn’t exactly difficult to locate—The Palace, Augusta would probably do it on a map search, or even a letter.
Matteo had given her a freedom she’d never experienced in her whole, pampered princess life. She wasn’t going to take his away now, just to save a few shreds of her royal reputation.
So instead of the shock of an Italian racing-car driver stealing away their Princess, the Augustan crown and public might have to deal with having an unmarried single mother in the royal succession—if she was even allowed to keep her title, which was not a sure thing at all. Her stomach was cramping just thinking about her brother’s reaction.
She knew she could lose everything, the same way Aunt Josephine had, and she might not even have true love to show for it.
‘Let’s find a pharmacy. Buy a test. Then we can plan. After pizza.’
Matteo really hoped nobody had recognised him buying a pregnancy test. But who else could he ask to do it? If he was recognised, at least no one would connect it to Isabella yet. If she was recognised, well... That was a whole different matter.
There was nothing to link him and the Princess of Augusta. Not until they announced their engagement, anyway.
Don’t think about it.
It was the right thing to do, he knew that. For Isabella, and for their child. And for him, too, really. He wanted to be a part of his son or daughter’s life, the way his own father never had, and if that child was Augustan royalty then the only way he was getting close was by living up to his responsibilities and marrying their mother.
He just didn’t like the way his whole body clenched at the idea of being tied down as somebody’s husband. Would he still be allowed to race? To live his life the way he wanted? He had a sneaky suspicion that his cliff-diving days would be limited, once he was inaugurated into the Augustan royal family.
If they’d even have him.
Would he cost Isabella her title by marrying her? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to support her in the manner she was accustomed to—his billions would go a long way to providing compensation, as would, he hoped, the freedom they’d have to live their lives together unencumbered by the royal rules, if she was thrown out of the royal family.
But being a Princess of Augusta was her birthright. Giving up her country was something she wouldn’t have even considered if it weren’t for him. No, if it weren’t for the baby.
They managed to sneak back into Isabella’s hotel room by a similar distraction technique to earlier in the day. Matteo would have less respect for the security team for falling for it a second time except this time around Isabella was the distraction. With their apologetic wayward charge back in hand, all attention was on her explanation for her disappearance, leaving Matteo free to sneak into her room with the key card she’d given him.
She joined him a few minutes later, rolling her eyes as she shut the door to keep her latest bodyguard firmly outside the room.
‘Okay?’ Matteo asked softly as he emerged from his hiding place by the wardrobe.
‘Fine. They just all think I’m still sixteen or something. I’m under orders to stay here for the rest of the evening.’ She stalked towards him, a predatory grin on her face. ‘Which shouldn’t be a problem, since you’re here with me.’
The pregnancy test burning a hole in his pocket was totally forgotten when she smiled at him like that. But as she pushed his light summer jacket from his shoulders, it fell out onto the floor, a stark reminder to them both of why they were there.
‘Do you want to take that now?’ Matteo stepped away, giving her the space to decide.
He could see the warring thoughts fluttering across her face. She bent to pick up the box, pulled out the instruction leaflet, and scanned the text.
‘It says it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. I’ll take it then. I mean, at this point, another few hours aren’t going to make any difference. And I want—’
She broke off, and Matteo waited.
‘I want to enjoy this last night. Before everythin
g changes.’
He could hear the hesitancy in her voice. She wasn’t any surer about this situation than he was, and who could blame her?
But the thing that had blossomed between them during their week on Lake Geneva was still as present and sure as it ever had been—hadn’t he felt that last night, on the balcony?
Matteo knew what others might think and say. They’d believe that his actions the night before—attempting to seduce an honest-to-God princess in a semi-public setting—were all about the risk, the same as all of his other extra-curricular activities. But they’d be wrong. It hadn’t been the risk that had him hard and desperate in the dark.
It was Isabella. Only ever Isabella.
And she was right; once she took that test and they knew for sure, everything would change. One of them would lose their dreams, their future. Either his racing career and adventurous lifestyle, or her title and her country.
But not yet. They had one last night together.
‘You’ll have to be very quiet,’ he said, thinking of the security team waiting outside her hotel suite door. ‘Do you think you can manage that?’
‘I did last night, didn’t I?’ she asked, one eyebrow raised.
He took a step closer, and she echoed it, leaving the pregnancy test on the table behind her. ‘Last night, I couldn’t do half the things I wanted to do to you. Definitely not enough to make you scream.’ And he’d dreamt all night of how different that might have been. If he’d been able to lift that heavy ballgown and kneel under the skirt and take his mouth to her...
‘Well, maybe I’ll need to fill my mouth with something to keep me quiet.’ She kept her gaze trained on his as she dropped to her knees. ‘Besides, I think it might actually be you who needs to try not to make any noise.’
There was no blood left in his brain, or anywhere except south of his belt. He didn’t care about the inadequate thin curtains over the window, or the men outside the door who were trained to break him in two in a moment. All Matteo could concentrate on was Isabella’s small hands unfastening his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his boxers, until he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of them.
The Princess and the Rebel Billionaire Page 13