My Italian Prince
Copyright 2015 by Jasmin Jacobs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Words from the author
Chapter 1
Vanessa entered the crowded bar and scanned the faces in search for Kat. Perhaps she should be surprised about the amount of people who turned to alcohol after a hard day's work, she wasn't.
“Green!” A female voice who tried to imitate a teenage boy during football practice could only mean one thing, Kat.
”Green, over here!” Kat was standing up, waving her whole arm in the air to get Vanessa's attention. It worked, but in the progress, she also got most of the other guest’s attention, something Kat couldn't care less about.
Vanessa walked over to her table and Kat jumped up to greet her with fake air kisses.
”Mrs. Green, how lovely to see you this wonderful evening, please have a seat,” she had changed character from a teenage boy to one of her favorites, the upper-class lady.
”Oh, shut up Catherine and give me alcohol,” she called her by her full name to make her aware that she was not up for her charades, not tonight.
”Ok, I'm sorry honey, I'll stop. But did you really have to call me Catherine? That's super mean,” she pushed a glass of vodka with a slice of lemon on the side over to Vanessa.
Kat or Catherine Crawford was Vanessa's best friend, maybe her only friend. They met at The Little Ballerina class. Kat even though she lived in an upscale neighborhood on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, talked her parents in to attend the class in a rough neighborhood of Queens where Vanessa’s family lived in a small town house. They decided at once to be best friends. Soon they got a routine where Vanessa got a ride home with Kats family’s car after class. The driver circled around the blocks as Kat demanded them to continue driving so she and her friend could gossip in the backseat. During the winters, Vanessa came with Kat to Manhattan to ice skate at the Rockefeller Center. They also visited her grandparent’s store, which to Vanessa's amazement was FAO Schwarz, the legendary toy company. In the summer, Kat was a frequent guest in the Green family’s tiny garden. Although they were from two completely different worlds, they made their friendship work and grow through the years.
Kat ran her fingers through her dirty blonde hair as she watched Vanessa taking a big gulp from her drink. Kat had always been the protector of her younger more fine limbed friend. During one of Vanessa's first parties at the campus, she had way too many shots and was just about to follow one of the older students to his room when Kat rescued her. She had recognized the boy from across the room as Brad, known to get freshman girls drunk and bringing them to his room.
Kat came from a wealthy family, her father was the CEO of an investment company, and her mother was a stay-at-home wife with too much spare time. She despised their lifestyle and had promised herself to be nothing like her mother, she would rather die than getting drunk at the Country Club while discussing face-lifts and the Kardashians. Kat had devoted her adult life to revolt against her family and even if she let them pay for her degree in Art, she did so just to start her own Tattoo Parlor. She later realized getting into the tattoo business just to annoy her parents was a bit too much, even for her. Instead, she got a career in illustration and was now a successful freelancer.
Kats personality was much the same as Vanessa's but on steroids. Every part of her life was to the max. Why work 12 hours a day with something you hate just to buy stuff you don't need, she told Vanessa in college and she still lived by it. Kat only worked as much as she needed for her next trip to Europe or South America.
“Thirsty, are we?”
“Ah, that feels better,” Vanessa puts down her glass and looks straight at Kat. “I've just had the weirdest few hours of my life,".
Kat looked intrigued, sipping on her Vodka lime thru a straw and her eyes glued to Vanessa's.
“Go on girl, don't keep me hanging,” Kat encouraged her.
“Well, to make it short, I've just saved the life of a Prince,” she felt weird saying that sentence out loud.
“A Prince? The son of a King?” Kat looked confused.
“Yeah, I guess."
“Wait, just wait,” Kat laughed. “How is that possible?”
“Don’t ask me, I never even thought they existed except in Disney movies.”
“He is this exile prince and his name is Alessandro,” Vanessa continued.
“Alessandro Di Savoy?” Kat interrupted her.
“Yes, that’s him, you know him?" Vanessa looked surprised, but she wasn’t. Kat knew everyone who was anyone in the city.
“Oh la la, I know who this guy is."
“You do, how?”
“He’s hosted a few of my father's charity dinners and he’s well known for being a playboy. I think he dated Paris Hilton at one point, and even one of the Kardashian sisters, the one with the huge ass."
“They all have huge asses,” Vanessa said smiling, “but you probably mean Kim.”
“Yeah, yeah that's the one, but never mind, this guy is supposed to be a dream. Have you seen him?”
“I have,” Vanessa said and couldn’t hold back a smile as his beautiful face occurred in her mind.
“Oh my god, Green! You have a crush on him!”
“What? Of course I don’t. I have seen him once and on a hospital bed. He was severely injured, but I saved him.”
“You did? Vanessa you’re a hero,” Kat laughed and ordered a tray of shots. “Let’s toast to that.”
Chapter 2
Earlier that day:
She was just about to go off her shift as a nurse at the ER when she heard the grueling sound of the emergency alarm. The sound filled the empty corridor, and it was impossible to ignore the red flashing lamps. This was a Red Alert something most doctors and nurses both dreaded and in a morbid way, wanted to experience. Working in the ER could be compared to serve in the military. Preparing for the worst-case scenario, but when training turned to reality, when actual human lives were at stake, you never knew for sure how you would react.
Vanessa peeked out from behind the door to the changing room, with her hair for the day styled in a plain braid that fell long between her shoulders, she watched as the nurses ran through the corridor with serious expressions on their faces. She observed them for a few seconds before she realized she had to join them. She grabbed a fresh scrub, put it on while closing the locker door with a well-placed kick, and ran out in the corridor. Her adrenaline did its job, kept her focused on the task ahead and the alarm that seconds ago echoed in her head faded. She now had just one purpose, to save lives.
Vanessa got her diploma in nursing just a few weeks ago and she couldn't believe her luck when she got the call from the City Hospital. Her application was one of the lucky few that caught the eye of the recruiting team and she got a call to get in for a second interview. She did a thorough research on the hospital before her interview with the head nurse. She had been walking on needles after her interview until the phone call came and they offered her the position. Just a few days later her first day at the ER begun. She was a fast learner and after her first week, she kn
ew everything she needed to know to do her rounds without supervision. She took pride in knowing it took most new nurses closer to a month to achieve the same.
Growing up, Vanessa's family and teachers saw her as an intelligent and bright girl, who always got good grades. She was athletic and excelled in all sports she tried out. That combination made it hard to get any real close friends as people got intimidated by her. What saved her from being alienated was her down-to-earth personality. Even if she knew she was better than most of her fellow students, she never gloated about it, instead she tried to help them.
From her father, a tall strong man with Scandinavian heritage, she got her green eyes. He often praised them as it reminded him of his own mother and he was proud that he had passed his genes onto his daughter. Her eyes matched her light brown hair, which fell in soft waves around her well-shaped shoulders and framed her high cheekbones and porcelain skin. Her small pointed nose she so often had heard was too cute to fit her otherwise classical beauty, gave her face character and the cuteness of her nose was contrasting her chiseled face structure and gave her a friendly look. Vanessa was a pretty girl. Maybe not a stunner, but all the same very pretty and she had an aura coming off her that made people wanted to get to know her.
Her father had been the main motivational force behind her success in sports. She had tried countless of different after school activities during her youth, but as soon as she mastered it, she lost interest. Her problem was her short attention span; she always got bored when the challenge diminished. To her father's joy, she tried out for the school's Swimming Team. She had always been a strong swimmer and her father had seen her potential early on. He would know, he had a bundle of medals from swimming from his high school and college days. As a kid, Vanessa used to wear them all parading through the living room pretending to be a decorated General. It didn't take long before Vanessa had medals of her own, for the first time she kept her focus on her training, and that gave results. The biggest reward of them all was not a medal, it was that it made it possible for her to get a Nursing degree, a scholarship at one of the most prestigious schools in the state. Without the scholarship her family could never afford to pay for her tuition, they were far from wealthy. Vanessa could recall far too well the many times growing up when her family had to borrow money from relatives. Her parents always paid back in time, often even earlier but there was something shameful over the whole situation. Her father felt ashamed over not being able to provide for his family without help from others.
Vanessa's green eyes were not the only thing that her father had passed on to her. To be independent and always be able to take care of yourself was something he always tried to teach her. Vanessa was a tricky one to bring on dates, something a few brave guys had experienced. Vanessa was eager to show her dad she could take care of herself and not relying on others. A few awkward situations had occurred when she had prompted on splitting the bill. Unfortunately, this meant that her dates often lost interest in her and moved on to the next candidate. She got the reputation of being uptight. Vanessa was since then sensitive to rejection and chose instead not to involve herself with anyone romantically and by that minimizing the risk of being hurt. This was a touchy subject and even Kat tiptoed around the issue. Once Vanessa refused to talk to Kat for over a week after she’d done the mistake of giving Vanessa a Heal Your Emotional Wounds self-help book for her birthday.
Her friends and even some of her family found it puzzling that a person with her grades would settle for just a degree in Nursing even if they all had seen her caring side. But for Vanessa it was the perfect job, especially an ER Nurse, which was her goal. She doubted it could ever get boring, and she liked the idea of having to perform at her best at all times. She would not just be a Nurse, she would be the best Nurse, and anything less was unacceptable.
Vanessa stood at the helicopter pad on top of the West New York City Hospital. The night seemed darker than usual and it took an experienced pilot to land on the small landing spot. The wind, which increased in strength by the second, did its best to blow the helicopter over the edge. With a small bang, it hit the ground and three emergency nurses ran to the side of the helicopter as soon as the rotor blades slowed down. The wind fought to get a hold of the big machine and it almost looked like the rain tried to help. Heavy rain poured from the sky and the wind pushed it with force into the helicopter. The spotlights on the roof fought to light up the area, making it hard to see what was going on in the helicopter. Suddenly a stretcher was pulled out and rushed to cover from the weather, Vanessa got a glimpse of the patient as they passed her on their way to the elevator.
Although his clothes were covered in blood, his face was clean, perhaps the emergency personnel had cleaned him, or maybe it was the rain. He had the sharpest profile she had ever seen and even if his skin tone was grey due to his trauma it was flawless, there was not a single mark on it. His jet-black hair framed his strong oval face perfectly, making it hard to believe that this man had a serious injury. He looked more as if he had escaped from a painting. Big closed eyes, which she couldn't help but wonder what color they had, brought out his natural beauty. His thick dark eyebrows showed content and his nose was sharp, his cheeks defiant, his forehead high, stating his rank, a born leader. He opened his eyes and stared at her with eyes as dark blue as the midnight sky, she almost lost her breath.
“Where am I?” he mumbled in broken English before dozing off again.
The contrast between the darkness outside and the sterile lighting in the emergency room hurt her eyes, and it took a few seconds to adapt. With squinting eyes she took in the room, and unconscious on the table she saw the man from the stretcher. A team of doctors and nurses prepared for the operation. With their focused moves, they looked like an experienced ensemble preparing for their grand opening. All clad in the same looking scrubs they moved around the room as if they were dancers in a ballet. The doctors went to work, examining their patient and gestured at the nurses to assist.
Vanessa observed the man at the table from her safe distance behind the glass doors.
Who was he? Where was he from? She hadn’t been able to recognize his accent from the few words he had spoken. A nurse interrupted her thoughts as she emerged at the door and with one quick move pulled down the curtains.
Vanessa took that as an indication it was time for her to go home. She wandered through the corridor, filled with thoughts, on her way back to the locker rooms. As she passed the reception in the main entrance, she saw an upset middle-aged man. He was banging with his fists on the window that shielded the medical secretary from the sometimes desperate patients. Vanessa had always thought it looked like a fishbowl. The stool behind the desk on the other side of the window was empty and on a handwritten note instructing all incoming patients to take a seat and wait for their turn. The man in front of the fishbowl would not wait for his turn, he made that clear. As she passed, she asked if she could help him, he turned around with annoyance in his eyes. He demanded to have information on his client's whereabouts.
“I'm sorry,” Vanessa said, “who is your client?”
“My client,” Gian-Carlo Brunetti almost yelled at her, “is Alessandro Di Savoy, his family is in direct line of the House of Savoy, one of the oldest royal families in the world, now living in exile in the United States of America,” his snotty voice implied that this was something she ought to be impressed by.
As the man got closer to her, she saw he wasn't middle aged, but rather closer to his seventies. He had strong facial features and he could’ve been a handsome man if he had looked just the slightest friendly. He did not. Instead, he had a mean disapproving look, judging anyone that was caught in his stare. A forehead with deep creases that pulled his eyebrows down as if he was always glaring. His many deep lines and wrinkles, etched from his lifelong commitment to the Prince, was a token of his personal sacrifice. Pensive eyes never focused on anything as he seemed to be lost deep into his thoughts and heavy responsibilitie
s.
Brunetti was a man who seldom smiled. He didn't have time for such trivial things as being happy. Contracts had to be written, deals had to be closed, and travels had to be arranged. In addition, he had to babysit this grown-up man, a Prince he had dedicated his life to as his guardian when the young boy lost his parents in a plane crash. The Prince and Princess Di Savoy, direct successors to the founder of the House of Savoy, died when their plane crashed in the waters off Martha's Vineyard. The Prince was flying the private plane that plunged into the Atlantic Ocean and it had been world news. Even if his parents had lived in exile, they were nevertheless royals and the boy was a Prince. He demanded all of Brunetti's attention as he grew up. Brunetti did his best to shield the boy against paparazzi’s, as the media loved the tragic story of the young Italian Prince.
And even if Brunetti had a harsh attitude towards his protégé, no one could be mistaken for his love and affection towards the younger man. Gian-Carlo Brunetti had after all taken the place as both his mother and father after their tragic accident that left the young Prince an orphan. Brunetti didn't hesitate for a second when he as the Royal family’s right hand was appointed the young boys, guardian.
The Prince had, all things considered, gone through an ordinary youth, but as he reached adulthood, he got the taste for the wild things in life. Partying on Yachts with supermodels, playing polo in The South of France, playing poker at the Monte-Carlo casinos, and turning up at all exclusive events and nightclubs around the world.
My Italian Prince: Clean Romance Page 1
