She nodded. “Very good, sir. We’re ready to leave as soon as Her Highness is.” She paused, then spoke again. “If there are any in your family that may need a warning about the upcoming press, I would take the time to call them now. It won’t be much longer.”
His hands curled into fists. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his family. “Oh? Are you psychic? Or has this sort of thing happened before?”
She merely lifted her eyebrows. “No, sir, I am not psychic. I am, however, right.”
She’d avoided answering one question but knew she was right about the other.
“I appreciate the advice.”
She nodded and left the room.
Damn it all to hell. Now he’d have to talk to his family. He’d have to explain he’d had a one-night stand with a Vallerian royal, and they’d likely find news about it in the press soon. As soon as they heard, his father would manipulate the situation—and Rio—to his advantage.
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck.”
“Has it hit the press, then?”
His hands fell away and his torso twisted towards the voice. His princess—no, not his, he reminded himself—was dressed much more respectably in a simple sleeveless, knee-length dress of pale pink.
He missed the bedsheet. “Not yet.”
She stared at him a moment, then nodded. She dropped a small bag on a little desk and walked over to the tray. She picked up a tall glass of something faintly orange with the consistency of a smoothie, walked over, and handed it to him. “Hangover cure. The taste is quite sharp, but your mind will clear much faster. Try it.”
He took a sip, then winced and sucked in his cheeks. “Sharp is an understatement.”
She shrugged. “It works, though. Cheers.” She tipped the glass as if to clink it with his, then downed the contents in several quick gulps. She shuddered and set the glass down.
“Now for coffee. I’m useless without coffee in the morning. Did you have some yet?”
He shook his head and watched as she sat on the bed as a perfect princess, legs crossed at the ankles. She even poured coffee perfectly, not one drop spilled. Was she taught that? Was that something learned? Or was that part of her inherent grace?
Though some parts of last night were hazy, their time in bed was not, and she had been graceful.
Graceful when she’d arched her back, thrusting her nipples towards his mouth.
Graceful when she’d spread her legs wide to welcome him.
Graceful long before they’d gone to bed, too. When they’d been at the ball, she’d drunk her wine gracefully and turned down the other scores of men gracefully.
She’d also accepted his offer gracefully and seductively.
“Sugar?”
His head jerked. “Pardon?”
“Sugar? In your coffee?”
“Black, please. Thank you.” He drank some more of the cure, only because it was refreshing once he got past the taste of it.
He walked over slowly, put the glass down, and sat on the opposite side of the tray. She handed him a cup and saucer. “Thank you.”
Another blindingly bright smile. “You’re welcome.”
She picked up a croissant, ignored the butter and jam on the tray, and began nibbling. Not one flaky crumb fell on her dress or anywhere she didn’t want it to. How did she do that?
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.
Her eyes widened. She finished her bite of food before speaking. “For what, exactly?”
He gestured to the part of the room where they’d had their argument. “You were right to ask about STDs. I’m clean, but I will provide you with the results.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I didn’t see a condom or wrapper in the bathroom trash. Did you find any out here?”
He shook his head. “Not while I was getting dressed, but I’ll take a deeper look before we go. I do often flush them. It’s possible that’s why we have not found them yet. I don’t remember doing so, but it could have happened.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She shook her head and laughed a little, as if to herself. “I’d probably have thought of that after coffee when my mind was working better.”
Her mind seemed fine to him. She’d easily bested him verbally, all while wrapped in that ridiculous bedsheet.
Time to offer the metaphorical olive branch—he held out his phone after tapping the screen. “Take it. I’ve keyed in the code. You’re welcome to look at whatever you like. You may not believe me, but I didn’t access it or modify anything while you were in the bathroom.”
She put down her plate and took it. “Thank you. Let me get mine for you.”
She walked barefoot across the room to her purse, took out her phone and tapped the screen. As she walked back, he noticed her nail polish: dark purple on her hands while she featured a light pink on her toes.
“Here’s mine. I obviously haven’t done anything to it, either.” She paused, the phone still in her hand. “I don’t need to tell you that there is confidential information on that phone. I’m not hiding anything from you. Well, I am, but—”
“I understand. I’m not looking to pry into your personal business, or your state business.”
She took a beat, then handed it over. “Okay.”
He didn’t recognize the phone or the brand, but everything was fairly straightforward. He started with her photos, scrolling discreetly through the last day. He recognized other royals in her photos—the royal family of Brazenbourg, her parents and siblings—but there were no photos of either of them naked.
There was, however, one photo of them clothed at the ball. A selfie he’d taken, based on the angle of his arm. Both of them posed for the camera, their free arms around each other.
They were smiling. Happy.
Her smile even lit up the dim castle ballroom.
The picture was innocuous. Yet, in different hands and with a different twist, it could seem like more. Much more.
He must have sent it to her afterward. Which meant he’d have her number.
It also meant she’d find the photo on his phone, too.
He moved to her videos and found nothing of him there, either. Just some of a baby girl bouncing and crawling on the floor, and more of another little girl, maybe five-years-old.
He was tempted to pry—who wouldn’t be?—but wouldn’t do it. Invading her privacy was something his father would have done, and that thought was enough to stop any inclinations he may have had.
He returned her phone. “Just one photo of the both of us. I’m guessing you also found it on mine?”
She handed back his phone. “Yes. I’d better send it to my agents. If they have a photo to look for, they’ll be able to find any online reference to it faster.”
“Check to see if you sent it to anybody.”
Her mouth fell open the slightest bit. “You didn’t check?”
“I said I wouldn’t pry, and I didn’t. I don’t go back on my word.”
She watched him for several seconds, then turned her attention to her phone. He glanced down at his own and saw numerous notifications waiting for him.
Business, mostly, and some from his family. The latter he ignored but spent a few minutes between sips of coffee sending off some needed messages. He should have sent these last night after the ball was over, but he’d clearly gotten caught up with Sarah.
“I think I messaged the photo to my sister Arianna. Other than that, it should be secure.”
“I didn’t send it to anybody.”
“All right. Well, then unless our phones have been hacked, they shouldn’t get any photos from us. My phone is a special one created for the family and is incredibly secure. It’s not perfect, no phone is, but it should hold up.”
“I keep my phone as secure as possible as well, though perhaps not at the same level as yours.”
She nodded. “It should be fine, but we’ll both keep an eye out. I’m going to start looking for the condom. My agents tell me they�
�ve nearly secured our exit and route to Rome, so we still have a little time.”
He glanced up and saw her, still barefoot, but with two hands on her hips, ready to launch into the day.
He hadn’t even glanced in a mirror yet, so he had no idea how he looked. She, however, looked princess-ready without even a shower.
“I need to speak to the castle staff before we go.”
Her hands fell from her sides. “We’re trying to get out of here without them noticing. You talking to them might interfere with that.”
“You don’t remember?”
Her nose scrunched in an annoyingly adorable way. “I think we’ve already established my memory is lacking about last night.”
“You mistake my meaning behind the question. I was referring to our conversation last night.” He waved a hand in the air. “No matter. The charity ball we attended? It was my event. I just need to speak to the castle’s manager and handle some last details.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize. Or, remember, rather. Will it take you very long?”
“No, but I will need to give her a warning about our potential press issue. She should know if she’ll be inconvenienced by press here today. They don’t have a large staff on-site. They may need more for security purposes.”
Her mouth set in a firm line. “You can’t tell anyone. The whole point is to avoid other people knowing we were together.”
Because of his family, it would be better for her if she’d never known him at all—and if others also believed that—but it was a moot point now. People would know, and they’d both deal with the consequences.
He took one last swallow of coffee, slid his phone into his pocket, and stood. “The manager did me a favor hosting the ball here. It would be a very poor show of gratitude if I knew a media firestorm could be imminent upon her, and I didn’t give her any warning.”
“She can twist it to work for her when it comes. She doesn’t need to know ahead of time.”
His lips flattened in frustration and he forced himself to wait five seconds before responding. “You may be used to getting what you want, Princess, but not all of us live that life, even with a royal title. I need to do this, and it is non-negotiable. She’s a fair and trustworthy woman; she will not disclose anything. More than that, she’ll be able to help us.”
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh?”
He nodded to the bed. “You don’t think someone will try to steal the sheets? That cup you just drank coffee from? Even if we don’t find a condom, if there’s one to find, someone will find it. And what do you think they’ll do with it? With any of it? The manager can burn the sheets and have the room cleaned before we’ve even gone if she knows what’s coming.”
Fear flashed in her eyes before they hardened. “People wouldn’t—”
“Not everyone is the decent sort, Princess.”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “Even you?”
“Especially me.” Not with his family. He’d never be decent with their blood in his veins. “I’ll speak to the manager and be back shortly.”
Though he strode from the room, it was like he’d fled it. Perhaps some distance between them would help things.
He should call his driver to pick him up. That way they could separate and likely never see each other again.
He should avoid her at all costs and, more importantly, give her distance from him and his family.
He should do all of that, and more.
Yet, he didn’t call his driver.
It was the fear he’d seen in her eyes. He couldn’t leave a woman who was afraid. He’d done it before and there had been fatal consequences.
He’d never do that again.
He’d stick with her to Rome, ensure she was fine, and then they’d part ways. She had her security team. She had an entire nation, really, behind her. She could manage the situation on her own, just as he could.
She didn’t need him.
Yet, for the two-hour trip to Rome, she’d have him.
Two hours alone in a car with her.
Two hours he could pretend he needed her help to manage things.
Two hours to get to know the woman behind the smile.
Two hours, then they’d be out of each other’s lives.
For good.
Chapter Two
A waft of air ruffled Sarah’s hair as she threw a pillow onto the floor. Another pillow followed, then another.
She grabbed the edge of the luxurious, what felt like million-thread-count sheets and ripped them from the bed; they were added to the pile on the floor.
She dropped to her hands and knees, ass high in the air, head near the floor as she lifted the bed skirt—also million-thread-count worthy—and peeked under the bed. No condom and only a few dust bunnies.
The door opened, and she peered over her shoulder.
Rio.
He paused, hand on the doorknob, eyes dark and brooding.
Brooding eyes. She’d always been a sucker for them. That’s probably how he’d enticed her last night: those eyes, his accent, those lips, which were currently quirked in an amused smile.
She shivered inside. She may not remember what those lips had done to her, but her body apparently did.
He finished walking in and shut the door. “Everything all right?”
She straightened, brushing her hands on her dress more from habit than due to her hands or dress actually being dirty. “Fine. I was looking for the condom but didn’t find one.”
He stepped over to her and held out a hand. “I think we need to accept that we may not have used one.”
She took it—his hands were strong and warm, another enticing combination—and got to her feet. “I think you’re right. I’m on birth control, so we shouldn’t have worries there, but still, I’d feel better if we knew either way.”
He didn’t let go of her hand and instead squeezed it tight. “I may not be the best of men, Sarah, but should this night have consequences, I will not abandon you.”
Unexpected. Most of the men she’d known wouldn’t have said that. They probably wouldn’t have said anything at all, much less something honorable.
It was the reason she never bothered looking for a steady boyfriend, much less a husband. She had no room in her life for inconsistent, unsteady jerks.
She was beginning to think Rio wasn’t like that at all.
A dangerous thought.
“Thank you for saying that, but you didn’t need to.”
“Still, you have my support, should we need it, or should you even want it.” He let go of her hand and she immediately missed it.
Oh, yes. He could be very dangerous indeed.
“Has your security arranged everything?”
She nodded and headed for her purse and phone. “Yes. Let me just confirm it’s safe to go down. Did you finish up what you needed to?”
“Yes, we’re all set. The room will be cleaned immediately after we leave.”
Purse in hand, she felt the buzzing of a notification on her phone but ignored it. “Should we have one of my agents stay behind? Ensure it gets done properly? A maid could make a lot of money selling something, you know.”
One of his hands wrapped around his nape, while the other rested on his hip. “If you can spare them, that may be best. Though, as I mentioned, I trust the manager here, but I don’t know the staff all that well.”
“I’ll ask my security team.” She pulled out her phone and grimaced at the alerts filling her screen. Different photos of them had leaked—not the picture they’d found on each other’s phones, but other photos people had taken at the event. In most of them, she and Rio were having a drink or talking, which was fairly innocuous. Yet, in some of them, they were practically plastered together, which was not as innocuous.
News headlines also filled her screen.
Vallerian princess+Italian prince=royal wedding soon?
Princess and Prince find happily ever after!
Will two cou
ntries get a bank holiday from one royally anticipated event?
Shit. That didn’t even include the trash claiming she was pregnant, or that they were involved in a love triangle with his ex or her ex.
“Looks like we’re famous.” She silenced her phone; she didn’t need to hear a buzz every second to know another photo of them had popped up somewhere.
He muttered something under his breath.
Her eyes flicked over to him. Rio had a scowl on his face and his own phone out and scrolling. “Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“You were lamenting we were famous, and I said you were already famous.”
She frowned slightly. “I suppose you’re right. Though we’re probably more infamous than famous at this point.”
He sighed. “If it’s public already, it means I’ll have to deal with my family sooner than expected. I was hoping for a few hours’ reprieve.”
It sounded like he was about as happy to deal with his family as she was with hers. “I’m not looking forward to dealing with my family, either, but they’ll get over it. They love me.”
His face went blank. “Not everyone has such an understanding family, Princess.”
Her back went stiff. Most people, when they used her title to address her, were kind. The way he said it, however, was almost like a curse.
Her words were tight and a little defensive. “I apologize.”
He winced. “No, I’m sorry. Very sorry. It hasn’t been my best morning.”
She decided to cut him some slack and relaxed her pose a little. “I accept your apology.”
Her phone pinged, this time with messages. “Shit. I need to call my family. Can I count on your discretion for anything you may overhear?”
He looked affronted. “Of course. If I call my family, are you going to gossip to everyone you know about what you heard?”
She gasped in indignation. “Of course not.”
“Then we can each rest assured that we’ll both be discreet.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Do you want to conduct these calls here or from the car? I’d prefer to be on our way.”
Sarah & Vittorio Page 3
