One Night with the Forbidden Princess

by Amanda Cinelli

  When it came, Olivia took a sip of her wine, thanking the waiter and looking out across the bay. They were so close to the water she could see the waves crashing into the rocks below them. The after-effects of the day made her forehead tighten painfully.

  Roman seemed determined to avoid the subject of their kiss entirely.

  Both kisses.

  She shivered at the memory of his rough handling after he had all but dragged her back to his boat. He had been completely raw and out of control, and yet she had felt nothing but excitement. Maybe he was right—maybe she was just looking for a taste of danger. Maybe she was naïve for not fearing him.

  He had made one thing clear: he did not trust her. She desperately wanted to ask him about the incident on the promenade—find out why a man who ran a company of armed bodyguards would have such a deep issue with guns. But maybe she was a fool for worrying about him when he’d continuously told her she was no more than a job to him.

  She had told him that she was a virgin and he had made it clear that the fact only cemented his view of her as being completely untouchable. She had never resented her own pesky innocence more than at that moment. When had he stopped being just a glowering bodyguard and become the object of all her fantasies?

  She swallowed hard past the dryness in her throat as Roman sat down across from her and apologised for the interruption. After checking with her first, he ordered them both a light starter followed by the chef’s special paella.

  Once the waiter had taken their order they were left completely alone. The moment of uncomfortable silence was not lost on Olivia. She cleared her throat, making a show of looking up at the vaulted ceiling that partially covered the open terrace.

  ‘You seem to know the staff quite well,’ she offered.

  ‘It’s been five years, I believe, since I started coming here for lunch every day when I was overseeing building work on my island.’

  ‘They seem to like you.’

  ‘The chef—he is also the owner. And the waiters are his sons.’ He smiled, looking over at the young men bustling around the small restaurant. ‘The first day I found this place, my architect brought me for lunch. The owner, Pedro, had an argument with his oldest boy and the kid ran off, leaving him with a pile of dishes and a line of hungry guests. I rolled up my sleeves and offered to help.’

  ‘Not many people would do that.’

  ‘Not many princesses would do what you did at that racetrack.’ Roman shrugged, sitting back as their bread and gazpacho were laid out on their table.

  Olivia couldn’t mask her surprise at his mention of the incident with the young waiter and the champagne. ‘That afternoon seems like a lifetime ago.’

  He nodded. ‘Perhaps we are both destined for the sainthood?’

  She smiled. ‘If you are hoping to convince me that you are not entirely heartless, it’s working.’

  ‘I might not have the benevolent influence of a royal, but I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.’ He shrugged again. ‘Charity isn’t always about money.’

  ‘That’s...’ She shook her head, frowning at the memory of her argument with her father. Of those very words that she had spoken so vehemently. And here was Roman, echoing them as though it were simply a fact.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, frowning.

  She shook her head, ignoring the painful throb in her chest at hearing his words.

  She took another sip of wine, clearing the fullness from her throat. ‘I adore my work in the community...’ Olivia sighed, unable to hide the wistfulness that crept into her voice. ‘I swear it’s the only time I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile with my life.’

  ‘That sounds like a vocation,’ he said, sipping from his own glass. ‘And yet you don’t sound fulfilled.’

  She shook her head. ‘This might surprise you, but princesses don’t have much sway when it comes to promoting new education laws or increasing expenditure on public schooling.’ She sighed again. ‘Since the crackdown on my security I’ve missed several important events. Perhaps the children won’t even have noticed. Perhaps I’m only helping myself by going out there, boosting my own self-importance. Maybe I’m just an egomaniac.’

  ‘I highly doubt that,’ he said, all seriousness. ‘This bothers you? Your lack of power?’

  ‘Of course it does. How would you feel if you had people holding you back from living your own life at every step?’

  A strange look passed over his face, disappearing just as quickly.

  ‘I can only do so much.’ She shrugged. ‘Potential future innovators of my kingdom are sitting in homeless shelters and all I am allowed to do lately is hold charity balls. It means absolutely nothing.’

  ‘Your work means more to those children than you could ever know.’

  ‘How can you know that?’

  Roman was quiet for a long time, his hands held tight in front of him. Then, ‘I’ve lived that life. A long time ago, now. But you never forget.’ He forced a smile, draining his glass. ‘I know that a stranger’s kindness means more to a homeless child than you would ever believe.’

  Olivia took in the tightness on his features, the guarded emotions in his dark steel-grey eyes. ‘Roman, I had no idea...’

  ‘My past is not something that I like to relive. I just want you to know that your work has value. I owe much of my success to men and women I never even knew. They received no thanks, no rewards. I never understood such selfless giving—it was not something I had grown up to feel. Never doubt such honest goodness, Olivia.’

  ‘I am sorry that you had such a difficult upbringing.’

  ‘I’m not. It made me who I am today. But I am not arrogant enough to forget that the world would be an awful place if it was only filled with cynical men like me.’

  Olivia understood him then—a little more than before, at least. ‘You’re not so bad.’

  He laughed. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

  ‘Tell me, then,’ she said quickly. ‘Tell me whatever it is you think is so awful about yourself and let me be the judge.’

  ‘Mine is not the kind of story you tell over paella and wine.’ The laughter died from his voice, making it clear that the topic was not open for further discussion.

  Their main course was laid in front of them, providing a welcome distraction. The food was delicious, and yet as Olivia watched Roman eat she couldn’t help but imagine him as a young boy. Thin and hungry...helpless. It was a jarring thought—one that filled her throat with emotion.

  She hated to think of anyone suffering through such hardship—especially considering the luxury she had been born into. It had never sat well with her, the enormous divide between the wealthy and the poverty-stricken. She had always felt a weight on her shoulders and an obligation to do her part.

  ‘That was delicious,’ she said, forcing a smile as the waiter came to clear their plates and replenish their wine glasses.

  ‘I hope this meal has done something to make up for my behaviour so far,’ he said, lowering his glass and looking at her. Sincerity darkened his eyes as he held her gaze. ‘For some reason the idea that you see me as cold and cruel bothers me.’

  ‘I don’t think you are cold at all,’ she said, in all seriousness. ‘I think that’s just what you prefer people to believe.’

  * * *

  The night had grown cold by the time they embarked at the Puerto Arista harbour and set sail for the short trip back to the island.

  Olivia apologised once again for the fact that they had had to abandon his luxury speedboat, but Roman assured her it was fine. They fell into silence as he concentrated on moving the boat along the harbour safely towards open water, each of them deep in thought.

  A spark in the sky behind them startled her, and she turned back just in time to see an explosion of red and blue lights erupt into the perfect black sky.


  ‘It must be midnight,’ Roman said from behind her.

  She could feel him lower their speed and allow the boat to drift slightly.

  ‘This firework display is not one to be missed, trust me.’

  ‘There’s no need to stop just for my benefit,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Consider it part two of my apology.’

  He guided her to the sun deck and pulled two cushions from the built-in sofa, laying them on the cold tiled floor. It was slippery with mist, and just a little chilly, but as a cascade of golden lights began to spread across the inky black sky she knew she wouldn’t have changed the night for anything.

  After the final booming red spinning wheels had faded into the air, she turned to see he was watching her intently. She took in the heat in his gaze and knew he was battling with the aftermath of that kiss just as she was. She had never wanted to be kissed again more in her life.

  ‘We should be getting back,’ he rasped, his eyes not leaving hers.

  ‘I’m really tired of doing what I should do all the time.’ She licked her lips, silently urging him to give in one more time to the madness between them.

  ‘Olivia...’ He shook his head a fraction, lowering his eyes from hers.

  She reached out to lay her hand just under the collar of his shirt, knowing she was being brazen but needing to do something. To show him in definite terms what her mind was struggling to convey with words.

  He took her hand in his, lowered it back to her lap. ‘You’re not the only one who has to live by the rules,’ he said quietly. ‘Sometimes they are there to stop us from getting in too deep where we don’t belong.’

  ‘I am a grown woman, Roman. If I decide to take a leap into something unknown, you’d better be sure that I’ve got my reasons.’

  ‘You might think you know what you want—’

  Olivia stood quickly, looking down at him. ‘I told you that I won’t be spoken for again,’ she warned him, feeling her temper bubble to the surface as she alternated between wanting to hit him and wanting to beg him to take her into his arms.

  ‘Speak, then,’ he said plainly, sitting back to look up at her. ‘What is it that you want?’

  ‘It’s more what I don’t want,’ she said. ‘Being here—away from the bubble of royal life—being with you...’ She took a breath, urging the words out, needing to say them even if he simply walked away.

  Roman shook his head, not giving her a chance to continue as he jumped to his feet and moved back downstairs to start up the engine once more.

  The rest of their journey back to the island was silent and tense, unspoken words heavy in the air between them. She wanted to ask him if he still planned to take her back to the palace tomorrow. If he still believed that she should go ahead with the marriage.

  The Jeep ride was bumpy, and all too quickly they were standing in the dim empty hallway of the villa. Jorge must have closed up for the night and headed off to his quarters on the opposite side of the island.

  ‘Goodnight, Olivia.’

  Roman’s voice was dark and final as he made to walk away from her.

  ‘Wait,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve realised something.’

  He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to speak.

  Olivia cleared her throat, suddenly feeling very much on show. ‘I’ve realised that I don’t want to walk away from my kingdom, and if marrying a stranger is the way to keep it safe then perhaps that’s what needs to be done.’

  She took a deep breath, wondering if that was relief or disappointment that flickered momentarily across his features. She couldn’t tell in the dim hallway.

  ‘You are quite the sacrificial lamb,’ he said quietly, with not a hint of emotion in his tone. ‘So you plan to return to the palace and accept the marriage?’

  ‘I’ve decided to return, yes. And face the situation like an adult, at least.’ She met his eyes, challenging him in the darkness. ‘But I can’t fully commit to the marriage knowing there is one thing I have yet to experience in life.’

  ‘I thought you ran away because there were many things you hadn’t experienced?’ he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

  ‘There is only one that truly matters to me. I cannot agree to an arranged marriage without allowing myself to experience one of the things I truly have control over.’

  His gaze was pure heat as he moistened his lips with one smooth flick of his tongue. She felt heat spread down through her veins and pool in her stomach. If a simple look could make her feel this way, she needed to know what else he could make her feel. It was suddenly the only thing she wanted.

  ‘I want my first time with a man to be on my terms, with someone who wants me just as badly as I want him.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IN HIS MIND Roman simply gathered her into his arms and carried her up to his suite as fast as his legs could take him. Surely this was far more torture than one man was expected to endure? But in reality he remained silent for a long moment, his throat dry as his mind fought to sort between loyalty and lust.

  She was offering herself to him on a silver platter.

  ‘You think you can separate sex from love?’ he said softly.

  ‘If the sex is good enough.’ She shrugged one delicate shoulder, biting her lower lip gently as though embarrassed by her own words.

  She couldn’t even say the word without blushing and she wanted to fall into bed with him. He took one step towards her, then another, until they were almost toe to toe.

  ‘Men like me don’t make love, Olivia,’ he said darkly. ‘They don’t make empty promises just to play into some fantasy.’

  She gulped, looking up at him through hooded lashes. ‘What if I don’t want the fantasy?’

  ‘I have a thousand fantasies I could tell you about,’ he whispered. ‘Each one more risqué and physically demanding than the last. I would have you naked in my bed quicker than you could beg me to take you. Is that what you want me to say?’

  ‘I...’ Her voice trailed off, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

  Roman let one finger trace the curve of her shoulder. ‘You’re not ready for me, Princess,’ he said cruelly. ‘You need a man who is going to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and make sugar-coated promises. I’m not that man.’

  * * *

  Roman braced his hand on the door of his suite and laid his forehead against the wood—hard.

  Loyalty be damned. He wanted nothing more than to break down every door between them and take her like the unrefined street thug that he was.

  But she was a virgin. She was not his to take.

  Even as his mind thought the words his fist tightened in protest.

  He took another deep, rattling breath, feeling the stale air of the room fill his lungs to bursting point.

  She was not his.

  With more force than necessary he turned and swung open the door to the terrace, silently thanking his housekeeper for placing his guest in the opposite wing of the villa. What would Olivia think of him now? Standing out in the night air, trying desperately to calm his raging libido like a scorned youth?

  He looked across to where the light shone out from her rooms.

  No. He shook his head, turning to vault down the stone steps in the direction of the pool. He had made his decision, just as she had made hers. And by God he would live with it.

  The night was surprisingly mild, with barely a breath of breeze blowing in from the bay. The moon was full and high in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the water of the pool.

  He took no time in stripping down and diving in, shock coursing through him as the cold water encased his skin, penetrating through to his very core. The pool was deep and he pushed himself to his limit, waiting as long as possible before breaking the surface.

  As the balmy air refilled his lungs he saw the unmis
takable silhouette of Olivia, standing near the water’s edge.

  Roman stood, so that the water reached his waist, very aware that he was completely nude in the water. His heart beat slow and hard in his chest. They were silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving hers.

  ‘You decided to take a late-night swim,’ she said, her voice strangely husky in the dim light.

  ‘And you followed me.’

  She moved to the entry steps of the pool, dipping one toe in before stepping down ankle-deep in the water.

  He noticed for the first time that her legs and feet were bare, that she wore a thin robe that stopped just above her knee. He wondered if she had anything underneath. He felt an ache in his gut, so deep, and he knew right then that he would move heaven and earth to have her out of that robe and in his arms.

  He moved forward in the water, closer to her with every breath.

  ‘I decided I couldn’t leave here tomorrow without knowing more about those fantasies,’ she said, her voice carrying across the space between them loud and clear.

  Her hands moved to the tie of her robe and Roman paused, feeling the breath freeze in his lungs as he simultaneously willed her to stop and to keep going.

  ‘How much more?’ he asked, his voice husky as it echoed off the pool walls.

  ‘Everything,’ she said, her eyes never leaving his.

  Roman took another step and watched as Olivia’s eyes dropped to where the water level now completely exposed him to her. Her eyes darkened as she looked, and looked, before finally dragging her gaze back up to meet his. What he saw there ignited a fire in his blood. Raw desire darkened her eyes and coloured her cheeks as she undid the tie of her robe.

  The white silk slid from her skin and darkened as it touched the water, leaving nothing between them but space. He was within arm’s length of her now, unconsciously moving towards her. But he stilled at the sight of her, completely nude and offered to him like the living statue of a goddess. Her skin glowed under the moonlight. Every perfect curve of her body was on display in high definition and it was a revelation.