Honeymoon With a Prince (Royal Scandals)

by Burnham, Nicole

  “Pomp and circumstance done right,” Massimo commented to Sophia, who stood beside him. “I’ve missed this.”

  “And we’ve missed you.” She gave his arm a quick squeeze before turning to face the direction from which the marchers would approach. Massimo put a hand on her shoulder as he surveyed the scene. Since returning home, he’d felt uncomfortable in his own skin. The only exceptions were when he was out on the water with Gaspare or when he’d been with Kelly. But now, with the sun shining and his family around him, he felt at peace once more. A sense of command and surety filled him as he looked beyond the crowd, toward the marina and the water. Stefano had been right. It might take time, but Massimo would find his role and his purpose here.

  The first group of marchers came into view, a high school band who’d won a competition for the honor to lead the parade. The sound of trumpets, flutes, and trombones carried along the main avenue preceding them. Onlookers craned their necks for a better look. As Massimo leaned forward, his gaze snagged on a woman on the opposite side of the street.

  The sight caused his heart to rise into his throat.

  Kelly’s head was thrown back as she laughed. Her hand was on April’s forearm, and April had a hand over her own mouth as if to smother a bout of out-of-control laughter. The pair were at the front of the crowd, at the barricade. Kelly wore the same outfit she’d had on in his apartment earlier, but a pair of sunglasses now covered her eyes. She brought her laughter under control, though it was clear the task wasn’t an easy one. He wondered what April had said to draw such a reaction.

  He wanted to see it again. Hell, he wanted to be the cause of that abandon himself.

  “Is that April?” Sophia asked, following his gaze. “She looks happy. Glad to see she took the afternoon away from work. Hasn’t she been working on your new closet?”

  “She has. Should be done next week.”

  “Mother will be thrilled.” A moment later, Sophia asked, “Who’s with her?”

  He feigned a second look, as if he hadn’t noticed. Kelly was craning her neck to see the approaching parade, a look of anticipation on her face. “Oh, that’s Kelly Chase. She’s the closet designer.” He managed to sound nonchalant, even though the simple act of saying her name sent tension coiling through his chest.

  “She’s gorgeous.”

  When he didn’t respond, Sophia whispered, “Oh, Massimo. Please don’t tell me you like her.”

  “Of course I like her. I wouldn’t hire someone I disliked.” He cheered as the band reached the reviewing stand, with the marchers in front holding their high school banner and waving Sarcaccian flags. “On that subject, I like Robert a lot. He can be a bit crusty sometimes, but he’s straightforward and knows what looks good on me. Thanks for finding him.”

  “You’re welcome, though Robert wasn’t the subject. Don’t think I didn’t notice you change the topic.”

  “We were discussing recent hires, weren’t we?”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Oh.” He paused, then frowned. “Sorry if I confused you.”

  “You’re impossible.” She swatted at his arm. At the same time, he noticed a flare in her eyes and followed her line of vision to the bleachers adjacent to the reviewing stand. A lean, elegant blonde stood in the second row.

  “That’s Madeline Lockwood,” Sophia whispered. “Scottish. She’s a guest of Father’s. Her mother’s company owns several casinos.”

  “I’ve heard of the Lockwoods.” They were wealthy, as one expected the owners of a casino business to be, but they hadn’t been born to it. They’d worked their way up, Madeline’s mother in the casino and hotel businesses, and her father in aviation.

  “I believe they’re interested in expanding to Sarcaccia. Father said he’d meet with the family, but informally. Hence the invite.” Sophia turned her attention back to the parade and clapped as a large float went by. “Don’t look now, but if you check the row behind Madeline Lockwood, there are the Thyssen sisters from Denmark. The younger one is—”

  “Stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You’re matchmaking. Stop.”

  A heavy sigh escaped her, though her public smile remained fixed. “All right. But I thought you should know who’s who before tonight’s banquet.”

  “Not necessary.” He smiled down at his sister. “But I appreciate the thought.”

  When she grinned back, he couldn’t help but think how much lovelier she’d grown during his years away. “Anytime.”

  The rest of the parade passed as it did every year. Flowers in every imaginable hue decorated giant floats, dancers in both traditional and modern costumes kicked and spun their way down the boulevard, and bands played patriotic songs as they marched past the royal box. Amongst the crowd, the occasional balloon came loose from a stroller or a child’s fist and drifted skyward. Ice cream, candy sticks, and oversize pretzels were consumed by the cartload as vendors wended their way along the area behind the barricades. Happy banter filled the air. When a group of disabled veterans made their way past the royal family—some on foot, others with canes or in wheelchairs—Massimo saluted them. Though most were close to his father’s age, he picked out a few he knew were his peers, making him wonder where and how they’d sustained their injuries.

  I understand.

  The words ricocheted through his brain. If he could push the thought to the men and women on the parade route, he would, simply to reassure them that they weren’t alone in their suffering and that their sacrifice wasn’t forgotten or in vain.

  When a young soldier saluted back from his wheelchair, a sense of gratification filled Massimo’s chest. Even across the distance between them, Massimo could see the spark of pride in the man’s face. It was no different than the pride displayed on the faces of the baton twirlers who came afterward or the equestrians whose horses pranced expertly along the route.

  Through it all, Massimo kept watch over Kelly without allowing his gaze to linger. As Sophia had pointed out, there were any number of beautiful women lining the parade route. Those near the reviewing stand, in particular, had taken care with their appearance, as many were invitees to tonight’s royal banquet and hoped to catch the ear—or the eye—of one of the Barrali family. Men, too, were hoping to make inroads with the powerful family. In years past, before he’d been abroad with the military, Massimo used his perch on the review stand to scan the immediate crowd and make his plans for the evening.

  But this year, though he managed to look interested in those nearby, his heart wasn’t in it. Even when a friend of Vittorio’s—a gregarious, statuesque brunette from a wealthy, well-connected family—flirted with him, he found it an effort to match her witty repartee. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from Kelly. When Kelly and April disappeared into the crowd, he felt as though a part of him were missing.

  Absurd, he told himself. Perhaps as the days wore on, his fascination would fade and he’d rediscover the bounty of Sarcaccia…namely, its astonishing women. Kelly had been the first after a long dry spell while he was on deployment. He’d get over it. He’d have to. She had her life—a mixed-up one, at that—and he had his. They weren’t suited in the long term. Sophia’s disapproving “Please don’t tell me you like her” comment made her opinion on any match clear.

  After the last float went by, one filled with schoolchildren singing the national anthem, Queen Fabrizia materialized at Massimo’s side. “Ride back to the palace with me? I’d like a moment to chat before we’re swept up in the banquet preparation.”

  “Of course.” It wasn’t as if he had a choice. Taking her elbow, he escorted her down the stairs.

  He looked to the secured area behind the reviewing stand to see his father and Vittorio entering a limousine with Sophia. Stefano, Megan, and their daughter Anna stood at the curb waiting for the driver of a second car to open the doors for them. A policeman waved to his mother’s driver, urging him to park behind Stefano’s car. The lineup made it plain th
at she’d sought out Massimo for a private conversation. Whatever it was, she apparently didn’t want to wait for their private dinner tomorrow night.

  He wondered what she knew that he didn’t.

  * * *

  Queen Fabrizia beamed as she waved out the car window. She had the ability to look as if she were greeting a group of dear friends, rather than giving same the dispassionate wave displayed by other celebrities when faced with fans. Her voice, however, was subdued when she finally spoke.

  “You seemed at ease this afternoon, Massimo.”

  “I was. I’m glad I went.”

  She absorbed that. “Does this mean you’ll attend the banquet tonight?”

  “For you? Of course.” Now that he’d made it through the parade—had actually enjoyed the parade—he had no reservations about attending.

  “I want you to attend for you. Because you want to be there, to be part of the family and the celebration.”

  “I do.” He smiled out his window and waved to an excited young boy while using his other hand to pat the queen’s forearm. “You need to stop worrying.”

  “Never. It’s a mother’s job.” A moment later, once they’d passed through the gates into the palace courtyard, she turned to face him. “If there’s nothing for me to worry about, then why did you want to have dinner with me? My assistant scheduled it for tomorrow night.”

  “Because I’ve been away and we need some time together. That’s all.”

  “You’ve never booked a dinner with me before.”

  “So?”

  Her look was knowing, in the way mothers had wordlessly communicated with their children since the beginning of time.

  “I’ve never been home before. Not like this, when I wasn’t about to leave for school or an assignment. And frankly, I want to hear about you. Your projects. Your interests. Anything wrong with that?”

  “You’re saying that you’re worried about me?”

  “Let’s call it curiosity.”

  Her lips took on a droll curve, one he’d seen captured by photographers and plastered on magazine covers, much to his mother’s chagrin. She felt it unroyal—the expression gave her a mischievous bent—but often couldn’t help herself. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow night. You can tell me about the closet designer you’ve hired. And I haven’t heard…did either of the decorators I recommended work out?”

  “There’s another reason we need to talk. You clearly have no idea of my taste.”

  Her humorous expression morphed into an affronted pout. “What do you mean?”

  “I believe the most apt word for those two decorators is somber. If I wanted to decorate a mausoleum, they’d be my go-to people. But my living space? No. They missed the ‘living’ part.”

  “I see.” She glanced ahead of them, toward where they’d exit the car at the palace’s rear door, then flashed her famous cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “And I’m very glad to hear it.”

  Come again?

  She took in his look of bewilderment and said, “Oh, Massimo, you’re my son. I know your taste better than anyone. I wanted to be sure you were making decisions for yourself and not for anyone else, including me. Hire whomever you wish. So long as they don’t have anything in their background that might tarnish our family’s reputation, you’re fine.”

  The car rolled to a stop, but he waved off the guard who’d approached. He needed to finish this conversation. “Don’t you think that was cruel to do to the designers? They sent portfolios and sat through interviews with me. They even drew up designs for my rooms. Detailed designs. Do you realize the time commitment that took?” And not simply for the designers. It took his time, as well. And extreme amounts of his patience. If he’d had to endure another description of toile wallpaper or crystal sconces, he’d have gone mad.

  “Of course I do. And now I know they’ll go the extra mile.” She shrugged. “I’m hiring them for some of the unfinished rooms in the east wing. Prepping a few extra designs for you was not a hardship. Believe me, they’re being well paid.”

  Massimo reached for the door handle. “You are a crafty woman sometimes, Mother. I never would’ve suspected. ”

  “When it comes to my family? You have no idea. Now, get some rest this afternoon. I’ll see you tonight at the banquet.” She nodded to the guard, who opened her door and escorted her from the car with all the reverence she deserved, leaving Massimo to wonder what else he didn’t know about his mother.

  Chapter Eighteen

  April peered at herself in a handheld mirror as Kelly relaxed beside her on the covered deck of a seaside bar not far from the parade route. They’d been fortunate enough to nab a free table and quickly order drinks and appetizers, but the crush of revelers who’d entered a minute behind them meant they’d likely be waiting awhile. All around them, people who’d lined the city’s walkways for hours clamored for cool, liquid relief.

  “I think my nose is sunburned,” April declared. “I don’t get it. I even wore sunscreen!”

  “You look fine to me.” Kelly squinted at April before inspecting her own arms. “I don’t think I burned, but if I’m not more careful while I’m here, I’ll start to freckle. Downside of being fair. And no, don’t be fooled by the hair on my head. My skin lacks enough melanin to handle the sun, no matter how much sunscreen I slather on.”

  She’d gotten more than enough sun when she’d arrived and fallen asleep on the beach, but jet lag and the need for tranquility won out, keeping her on her lounger long after most other beachgoers departed. In the short run, it was lucky in that she’d met Massimo. In the long run, it wasn’t so lucky for her complexion.

  “Guess you’d know, being from Texas. In New York it’s steamy in the summer, but days like this, with blue skies and the kind of warmth that actually make you want to be outside, are few and far between.” She sighed, then tipped her face upward and closed her eyes for a moment. “I think that’s part of why I love living here so much. I’m making up for lost sunshine. The Independence Day celebrations aren’t bad, either.”

  “I admit that was a ton of fun.”

  “Admit?” April intentionally bugged her eyes. “What do you mean, admit? You thought it wouldn’t be?”

  “Well…you’re about to hear my deep, dark confession.” Kelly allowed her gaze to dart around the bar, mimicking a Cold War movie spy afraid of being overheard. She dropped her voice to a mock whisper. “I’ve never understood parades. All the organization it requires for clowns and marching bands and horses to walk down the street strikes me as a tremendous waste of effort, both to those parading and to those watching. So there. I admit it. I didn’t think I’d like the parade.”

  April rolled her eyes as if to say, what’s wrong with you? “So why’d you say yes?”

  Kelly lifted a shoulder. “It’s my vacation and I’m getting to know the country. Plus, it was a chance to hang out with you. And you’re always fun.”

  That brought a smirk to April’s face. “Don’t you forget it.”

  A waitress sidled through the crowd to deposit their drinks on the table and promised to be back in a few minutes with appetizers. After Kelly took a much-needed sip, she told April, “The parade itself was much better than I expected. It was more like a festival with all the activity.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” April leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Still is a festival, judging from the crowd here in the bar. They’ve barely gotten started. Fireworks aren’t for hours, and you know none of these people are going home between now and then.”

  Kelly murmured her agreement. There was a charge to the atmosphere she hadn’t felt during her previous days in Sarcaccia. At first, she couldn’t pinpoint why, or if others detected the same buzz, but from the time she and April arrived at the barricade across from the royal box, she’d been on an emotional high. It differed from the thrill she’d experienced during her tour of Cateri’s famous cathedral or while ogling the masterpieces in its museums.

  Within minutes, she�
��d realized the sense of excitement ran deeper inside her than in those around her. Their pulses quickened in anticipation of the parade and the arrival of the royal family; hers had quickened in anticipation of seeing Massimo. While she’d seen him moving about his apartment during the last few days, this was different. She’d see Massimo the way his country saw him, during a public event in his role as their prince. She suspected it’d differ from the way he’d entered the police station or the manner in which he interacted with his stylist or other palace employees. He’d be in the spotlight.

  Inexplicably, she was nervous for him.

  In the end, there’d been no need. Despite the increasing roar of the crowd, the entire royal family appeared at ease as they approached the reviewing stand from the road that led downhill from the palace. Massimo appeared larger-than-life as he stood alongside his parents and siblings and cheered the marchers. His white shirt and gray slacks fit to perfection, emphasizing his fit frame and daunting size. His movements were graceful and sure, as if he attended events like this and enjoyed the adoration of thousands on a daily basis.

  She bit back a sigh, unable to reconcile the Massimo before her—the prince who commanded the attention of thousands and stood confidently above her, both literally and figuratively—with the man who’d flirted with her on the beach, treated her to an intimate sunset dinner, then made love to her with a single-minded passion she’d never before experienced.

  She knew why she wanted to sleep with him. But why in the world had a man like him made love to her? It might’ve been a one-night stand, but it wasn’t a case of a celebrity wanting to get laid and get out. She’d felt, deep in her bones, that there’d been more to it than that. It was in the way he’d lingered in her bed, the twinkle in his eyes as he’d shampooed her hair, the tenderness with which he’d spooned her body to his as they fell asleep and ran his hand along her hip as if she were precious to him.