Bride Fit for a Prince (Harlequin Romance)

by Rebecca Winters

  “So you’re not going to tell me?”

  “I’m afraid not. This racing model isn’t for sale yet.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve tested it on the track, but not the road. In the end, it’s still the long haul that counts.”

  Callie turned her back on the bike. “I almost wish I hadn’t seen it.”

  His brows furrowed. “Why?”

  “Thou Shalt Not Covet.”

  Nicco broke into rich male laughter, the kind she loved to hear.

  “It’s not funny, Nicco. When I go home I shall have to be happy with my Strada 100.” She bit her lip. “Of course I am happy with it. But you know what I mean. Thank you for bringing me to your work. I’ve had the time of my life. Now I think you’d better take me back to the farmhouse. Valentino will be expecting to go for a walk.”

  “You don’t want a tour of the factory first?”

  “No. I’d better not. As my mother used to tell me, if you can’t afford it, then don’t go window shopping.”

  “Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

  “She was. If she’d lived below the prince’s castle, she would have looked up once, then never again.”

  “That kind of self-discipline is rare.”

  “I know. My sister got so frustrated, she made certain she could afford it. I’m beginning to think she was right. On a vet’s pay, I might be able to afford such a luxury after about thirty years of saving. By that time I’ll be too old and fat to straddle one,” she grumbled.

  “Well if that’s in your future, then you’d better take advantage of my offer now.”

  Her head came up. “What offer?”

  “Ever since I watched the expert way you stole my bike out from under me and took off, I’ve had this urge to take you on a road trip with me.”

  She blinked. “You’re kidding. Aren’t you?”

  “Here—let’s get you properly outfitted.”

  He moved so fast pulling things off shelves, she couldn’t keep up with him. Soon she was feasting her eyes on a gleaming, cream-colored helmet with matching leather Kevlar gloves, boots, pants and jacket.

  He helped her on with everything, then zipped her up. Where his fingers touched, she felt as if she’d been scorched.

  “Nicco—I didn’t even know they made leather motorcycle accessories this color!”

  “Everything was specially ordered to go with the bike.”

  For a moment the world stood still.

  “You’re going to let me ride this one?”

  Their eyes fused. “Why not?”

  “But, Nicco—”

  “No buts. Where’s the fiery daredevil who planned her successful getaway the second she laid eyes on my bike?”

  Callie blushed before spinning around to look at it again. Then she stared back at him. “What if something happens and I cra—”

  “God willing, we’ll both return safe and sound,” he broke in on her. “Come. I’ll walk it outside. You can drive it around the parking lot for a few minutes to get used to it before we head out.”

  She could hardly breathe for the joy that news brought her. “Where are we going to go on our trip?”

  “Now that I know your penchant for chocolate, I thought we’d ride to Switzerland!” he called over his shoulder.

  Running after him in a state of total exhilaration she cried, “I’ve always wanted to go there!”

  In a few minutes she was driving around on the magnificent machine, incredulous that this was happening to her. To think all those years growing up she’d sat inside Jerry’s garage next door dreaming about riding on a fabulous Danelli…

  Nicco had gone inside the office for his gear. Now everything was locked and he was back, ready to roll. He watched her pull up next to him.

  Lifting his shield he said, “What do you think, Signora Tescotti?”

  “If Jerry could see me now, he wouldn’t believe it. Oh, Nicco—this is the most exciting day of my whole life! There are no words to thank you for—”

  But before she could finish telling him of her gratitude, he’d fired up his bike. The next thing she knew he’d pulled away from her. In a matter of seconds he was a red blur in the distance.

  What on earth?

  Why had he driven off like that without giving her any warning?

  Something had gotten into him to leave her behind. What worried her was that she feared he might not wait for her when he discovered she couldn’t keep up.

  If she were on the Strada, that would be one thing. Instead she was astride the greatest racing bike in the world! A bike she didn’t own and could never pay for in several lifetimes.

  Maybe he was testing her to see if she was roadworthy. It was something those Machiavellian genes would think up. In that case, she would just have to show him what she was made of and pray nothing happened to his bike.

  Heads turned to stare as she whizzed faster and faster past cars and pedestrians. A couple of guys on Vespas whistled and tried in vain to catch up to her. She increased her speed to stay within sight of her moving red target, determined that Nicco wouldn’t lose her no matter how hard he tried.

  The chase was on.

  Her bike was so powerful, it gobbled up the kilometers. In no time at all they’d left Torino and had climbed into the mountains. The sun played peekaboo behind clouds that were forming the farther north they flew.

  Traffic was moderate enough she could swing from lane to lane without having to change gears. Nicco must have decided to take pity on her because the next time she rounded a curve on the mountain road, he pulled next to her.

  When she chanced a look at him, he gave her the thumbs-up. Coming from him, that was great praise. Relief washed over her in waves that he seemed himself again. Now she could relish the scenery in earnest.

  Callie had only seen Lake Maggiore in picture books. It was hard to believe that the next vista opening up to her hungry eyes revealed the famous jewellike lake dotted with picturesque chalets clustered along its shoreline.

  Between the combination of Nicco riding next to her and the breathtaking sight, she was positive she’d been transported to another dimension of joy.

  After the road dropped down into the valley, she followed Nicco’s lead and got off at the next exit. Then it was a race to catch up with him again as he found another road that wound away from the lake and up into the high mountain pastures.

  Here there was no traffic to speak of. They could lean into the curves and ride like the wind while they continued their journey north. Though thunderheads were beginning to form, Nicco appeared oblivious.

  Like happy children let out to play, they basked in their freedom to go where they wanted and thrill to the magic of it all.

  Everything would have been perfect if it hadn’t started to rain. At first it came down in random drops. Soon there were gusts of wind that pelted them against her face guard.

  Nicco waved to her to follow him. They started down the mountain toward the town she’d seen at the north end of the lake. Probably for her sake he didn’t drive as fast as he would have if he’d been alone. For that she was grateful. Once the road was wet, the tires didn’t grip the surface the same way.

  When they finally reached Locarno where she could see the Swiss flag emblazoned on shutters outside one of the hotels, they’d arrived in the middle of a drenching downpour.

  Thank goodness Nicco knew where to go. In a minute he’d found them a service station where they could park under the overhang and fill up their gas tanks.

  After paying the attendant, Nicco came back outside to join her. Until they’d stopped riding, she hadn’t noticed how cold it was.

  “I’ve heard this storm won’t blow out before morning. I phoned a guesthouse not far from here I’ve used before. They have a vacancy. Let’s go.”

  Callie’s heart skipped a beat.

  Since she’d arrived in Italy they’d been sharing quarters at the apartment, on the barge and at the farmhouse. Having to stay in
the same room with him tonight shouldn’t be any different.

  But somehow it was.

  Tonight she wouldn’t have Valentino to use as a shield.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “HERE we are. Affettato musto, cazzola, nocino and torte della nonna.”

  The ruddy-cheeked Swiss woman who ran the guesthouse with her husband brought dinner to their room and put it on the table near the fireplace. “Enjoy your meal,” she said in English with a heavy Ticino accent.

  “Grazie.” Nicco shut the door after her.

  A fire blazed in the hearth. With the rain still pounding against the roof of the chalet, the scene couldn’t have been cozier. Or more romantic.

  Haunted by that aspect, Callie sent Nicco surreptitious glances as he closed the distance between them to join her. In a black turtleneck and jeans, his masculine appeal overwhelmed her.

  He’s my husband by law as well as the law of the church. He’s the husband of my heart. Yet what am I to him?

  “E-everything sounds so special when you say it in Italian,” she stammered. “What is affettato?”

  “Nothing terribly exciting.”

  For the first time in her presence, he sounded bored. Nicco could have no idea how much it hurt.

  “It’s an antipasto of salami and hams. For the main course, various sausages with potatoes and cheese. Dessert is a sugar tart I guarantee you’ll enjoy. The nocino I’m not sure about where you’re concerned.”

  “Nocino?”

  “Um…a spicy walnut-flavored grappa liqueur. It’s excellent at the end of a meal following a cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll have to try it later.”

  “Our ride seems to have brought out your more adventurous side.”

  He was acting so strange again. His mercurial mood told her something was definitely wrong. She began to eat, but the silence between them dragged on. Halfway through their meal, she couldn’t take it any longer.

  “I’ll never forget today, Nicco. I started to thank you in front of your office building, but you rode off before I could finish.”

  He ate the last of the potatoes and onions. “You don’t have to thank me. I told you that if you would cooperate at the marriage ceremony, you could pick out any bike you liked for a wedding present. I always keep my promises.”

  Callie lowered her head. Tonight she was seeing a side of him that was foreign to her.

  Don’t be like this, Nicco. You’re acting so cold and aloof.

  She put down her fork, unable to indulge an appetite that had fled. “I couldn’t possibly keep the bike.”

  “Why is that?” he inquired civilly. “Because your strange code of honor won’t allow you to accept my gift unless we’ve slept together first? If that’s what is holding you back, we can remedy the situation tonight.”

  Her breathing grew shallow. “Don’t make light of something that’s sacred to me.”

  “You mean you intend to go to your death still saving yourself for Jerry what’s-his-name?”

  She needed to get beyond his baiting.

  “There was a time when I made a fool of myself around him, but he was eight years older than I, and always treated me like a pesky kid. We remained friends because of our love of cycling. Period.”

  “He was still on your mind today,” Nicco persisted before swallowing a tart whole.

  She pushed herself away from the table and stood up. “He would be since he owned a Danelli and introduced me to the sport. If he had any idea I had been riding around in the Alps on the latest racing creation of Danelli’s chief engineer, he’d have a coronary. In fact, he wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Does he still race?”

  “No. Now that they have children, his wife made him give it up.”

  “The poor devil,” he muttered under his breath, but she heard him. It caused another wrench to her heart.

  “Not every man wants his freedom as much as you do, Nicco. I promise I’ll be out of your hair the second the thirty days are up.” She started for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Downstairs. I saw some maps and postcards at the front desk I’d like to buy.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No—” she blurted. “Please—stay and enjoy your coffee.”

  He rose to his feet. “I’d rather accompany my wife than drink alone.”

  Callie hesitated before opening the door. “Please don’t refer to me in that light.”

  His expression hardened. “What light is that? For better or worse, you are my wife. Whether you accept that fact or not, the bike is yours.”

  They were back to that again.

  Feeling weak, she braced herself against the doorjamb. “I’ve done nothing to deserve it. You had to drag me to the church.”

  “True.” He came closer. “However you could have made a scene in front of the priest, and you didn’t. For that you not only have my gratitude, but Enzo’s.”

  “That still doesn’t mean you owe me something worth $150,000. If anyone should understand, you should.”

  He regarded her with those black, impenetrable eyes, daring her to go on.

  “I would imagine one of the reasons you renounced the throne was because you didn’t feel entitled to all the land and wealth you didn’t earn by the sweat of your own brow. I respect you more than you know for acting on your principles.”

  “I admit that was part of it, but not all.”

  Nicco was still holding back. Since he didn’t feel inclined to share the rest with her, there wasn’t anything more to say. Wishing the pain would go away, she darted out the door.

  “Prince Tescotti— Princess—give us a look!”

  Unprepared for a barrage of camera flashes, she recoiled straight into Nicco chest. He pulled her back into the room. Once he’d slammed the door, he moved her against it until there was no space between them.

  “I was afraid the paparazzi might be lurking out there. That’s why I didn’t want you to go downstairs alone.”

  Her face was buried in his neck. “They surprised me, that’s all. I should have remembered how much you hate the press and stayed put for your sake.”

  “Forget me, Callie. You’re the one who needs protection. Until you return to California, I think we’ll remain at the farmhouse where you can enjoy your freedom in relative privacy.”

  She closed her eyes tightly. He couldn’t have made it any clearer that there would be a divorce in the near future. Like a lovesick idiot, her subconscious had been living in denial.

  Not anymore!

  With those words he’d just given her the kind of wake-up call she couldn’t afford to ignore. In order to survive until she left Italy, there was only one thing to do.

  “I think I’m ready to try that liqueur.” As she eased away from his arms, their bodies produced breathtaking friction. “Shall I pour you a drink?” Somehow she made it over to the table without collapsing.

  He followed, but there was no answer to her question. That was all right. She’d do it anyway. When she’d filled the liqueur glasses, she lifted them and handed one to him. Girding up her courage, she met his jet black gaze without flinching.

  “Before I ask an important favor of you, I’d like to make a toast. To you, Nicco. You’re not the wolf in prince’s clothing I accused you of being when my sister begged me to bail her out of a horrendous situation.”

  She touched his glass with hers, then drank the dark liquid in one swallow. It burned all the way down her throat. But she was already in agony, so she scarcely felt the pain.

  Nicco didn’t make a move to swallow his. In fact there was an ominous stillness about him that was very unnerving.

  “Now for the favor,” she continued on. “Would you be kind enough to ask Dr. Donatti if I could spend time at his surgery until you and I part company? You need to get back to your work, and I need to stay busy. Because the hospital is located on a wooded estate, Dr. Donatti sees a lot of wildlife I don’t. If he wouldn
’t mind, I could learn a lot just watching him.”

  Nicco chose that moment to empty the contents of his glass. “You wouldn’t be able to stay there nights,” he declared rather aggressively after setting it down.

  “Of course not. That would defeat the whole purpose of your elaborate plan. I thought you could drive me to the lodge when you’re ready for work, then pick me up at the end of the day. We’d maintain the illusion of a normal married couple.”

  An inscrutable expression broke out on his face. He seemed to be pondering something weighty in his mind because she noticed how he rubbed his chest in an unconscious gesture.

  “If it would make you happy, I’ll talk to him.”

  That had gone easier than she’d thought. No doubt Nicco had been wondering what to do with her for the three remaining weeks. After her welcome suggestion, he could relax.

  “I would appreciate it. Thank you.” She put her glass on the table. “Unless you’d prefer to go first, I’d like to shower.”

  He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his dark head. “I’m in no hurry. The favor I intend to extract from you can wait until later.”

  Those last words set off alarm bells. Adrenaline shot through her veins as she scrambled for the bathroom. When she came out later dressed in one of the robes the guesthouse provided, he was sitting at the table talking on the phone. Someone had been to the room to clear away the remains of their dinner.

  Troubled by his all-encompassing gaze, she scurried to the bed and climbed under the covers.

  “Oh—” she cried softly when she saw a chocolate truffle bar on the pillow she’d uncovered. Delighted by her find, her eyes swiveled to his. “That was very thoughtful. Thank you, Nicco.”

  “Anything to please my wife.”

  The blood pounded in her ears. He was sweetening her up for something.

  “W-what favor did you want to ask of me?”

  “While I was watching the expert way you handled the bike today, several ideas came to me I can’t put out of my mind.”

  She shook her head. “We both know I’m a hopeless amateur.”

  “You may not have made racing your career, but you’re loaded with the kind of natural talent most want-to-bes would kill for. I’m in a position to know, so trust me.”