“I would have done this for you two years ago,” he said, jolting her with the memory of their night together. “But we had no kitchen in our room.”
She took a hasty sip of coffee, hoping she could blame the rush of heat to her cheeks on the hot liquid. This was too intimate, sitting here with him like they were a happy couple, and she felt too exposed. She didn’t want to talk about that night, not now. Perhaps if she moved on to the most obvious contradiction, he would leave it alone. “It must have been quite an experience for you, spending the night in a cheap hotel like that one.”
His eyes gleamed wickedly. “I don’t remember the room, cara. It had a bed. The rest is unimportant.”
“You left before I woke.” She knew her voice held a note of accusation, but she couldn’t seem to prevent it. She’d been disappointed that morning to find him gone—but he’d left her a scribbled message and she’d known it was only a matter of hours before they would meet again.
Except he’d never shown up. And she’d cried for two days when she realized how foolish she’d been. She’d given herself to a man who’d used her and abandoned her.
He placed a hand on hers where it rested on the marble counter. “I did not want to go, but duty called. Unfortunately, it also called me back to Montebianco when I found out the true extent of the problem.”
“What happened, Nico?”
She wanted to understand. The feelings she’d experienced had been so new, so amazing and tender, and she’d wanted to keep them for far longer than she’d been allowed. He had been her first real heartbreak. Because a part of her had fallen hard for the man she’d chosen to give herself to, and the truth of how wrong she’d been about him had been devastating.
His thumb traced a path on the back of her hand, sending spirals of sensation rolling through her in waves. “It was the first time my brother attempted suicide, Liliana.”
His sadness lanced into her. She’d been so focused on herself and her feelings about that night that she hadn’t considered something terrible might have happened. And now she felt that aching guilt again. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to keep them apart.
Silly. Even had he been there that night, it wouldn’t have lasted between them. He was a prince, for pity’s sake. She was no one.
“I’m really sorry, Nico. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you and your family to go through that with a person you loved.”
He caught her chin in his fingers, forced her to look him in the eye. “And it must have been difficult for you when I did not return, yes? I would have been there had it been possible.”
Perhaps he would have. But she refused to dwell on it. That naïve girl was gone, buried under the weight of harsh reality and motherhood. She pulled free of his grip. “We can’t change the past.”
“Yes but—” He looked down, his brows drawing together. “Si, little one?”
Lily dropped her fork and pushed herself up in her seat, leaning as far as she could over the island. Danny stood beside Nico, clutching his pant leg with one hand. The other arm was stretched up, his little hand opening and closing. A sharp pain pierced Lily’s heart—but was it joy or fear?
“He wants you to pick him up,” she said softly, biting her lip to keep her silly tears from spilling.
Nico looked at her for a split second, a mixture of terror and confusion on his handsome face. She could have laughed if her heart weren’t breaking. “It’s okay, Nico. Pick him up. He’ll want down again in a minute.”
Miraculously, he bent over and scooped Danny into his arms. And then he looked at her as if he feared he’d need more instruction. Danny, for his part, looked thrilled at the new heights he’d reached. Nico was indeed tall, and Danny seemed to delight in it.
Finally, he put his arms around Nico’s neck and burbled a string of unintelligible words.
“What did he say?”
Lily shrugged and tried not to laugh. “I wish I knew.”
“I thought women were supposed to understand baby talk.”
“I know when he wants something, but sometimes it’s not so clear. He likes the sound of his voice, I think.”
Danny touched Nico’s nose, then touched his own. “Naso,” Nico said. “Nose.”
Danny laughed. The sound coaxed an answering smile from Nico while Lily could only stare at them both in wonder. Two dark heads so close together, smooth olive skin—Nico’s was darker, of course—and eyes that could be a mirror to the other when they both turned to look at her.
Nico frowned. “Why do you cry, Liliana?”
“What? Oh.” She swiped the tears away guiltily. “It’s nothing.”
“Ma-ma.”
Lily smiled. “Yes, baby boy?”
He stretched his little arms toward her. She looked at Nico hesitantly, but he was already leaning forward, letting Danny reach for her. A second later, she had her baby in her arms. She tickled him, blew raspberries on his belly while he laughed uproariously, then kissed his little face until he protested. Another minute and he was down, his attention caught by the blocks once more.
“He is amazing,” Nico said with that sort of singular pride that all parents had in their babies.
Lily felt a bubble of joy lifting toward the surface of her soul. “Oh yes,” she said solemnly. “The most amazing baby in the world.”
Nico looked at her, his mouth crooking into a grin. A second later, they were both laughing.
The next few days were some of the most idyllic of his life. Nico spent time with Lily and their son without any expectations. He continued his slow seduction of Lily’s mind and body, not rushing the process in the least. He was in fact enjoying it. He touched her as much as possible, brushing up against her as he passed, reaching across her to pick something up, his arm skimming her breast if he could manage it.
It was driving him crazy, touching her without touching her. He wanted to strip her, explore her with his hands and mouth, wanted to do all the things he’d realized were impossible due to her inexperience the first time. He wanted to spend days learning her body, and he wanted to know what drove her crazy and what made her come unglued in his arms.
He was driving himself crazy, but more importantly he was driving her crazy. When they made love for the second time, it would be well worth the wait.
He was also, gradually, becoming more comfortable with his son. He no longer felt stirrings of panic when Danny wanted to be picked up, no longer worried he would drop him or hold him wrong. In fact, it was almost ridiculously easy to make the child happy. Why had he not realized this before? Tickle him, make faces, talk silly—and the little guy was fascinated. So, Nico realized, was Lily.
Still, he didn’t play with their son because it made her happy. He played with him because it made Danny happy. And it made Nico happy too.
For the first time since Gaetano had died, he felt content. He took his little family to the beach, took them for drives and hunted down obscure restaurants where the owners were discreet and they could enjoy themselves like anyone else. He’d had the reporters who’d camped at the gates to the palazzo run off, and he’d been pleased they hadn’t returned. Only one helicopter had invaded his privacy, but a single phone call and it was gone as well.
After yet another day at the beach with Lily and Danny, Nico strode into his office to find a letter from his father waiting. Nico ripped into the envelope—the man was too old fashioned to use email—and scanned its contents.
As expected, King Paolo of neighboring Monteverde remained an unhappy man that Nico had broken the engagement with his daughter. Paolo was widely reputed to be violent, though Nico didn’t think the king would go so far as to initiate hostilities between the countries simply because Antonella had been jilted.
Nico dropped into a chair, unmindful of the sand clinging to his body, and propped his forehead on his hands. The truth was that Montebianco could suffer if the trade issues didn’t get worked out. His country depended on olive oil, textiles
, and raw ore from Monteverde. They could procure the items elsewhere, certainly, but at what cost? How many jobs would be lost? How many households would suffer a reduction in their income?
Nico had counted on Monteverde’s dependence on Montebiancan wines, leather goods, and produce to even the balance and make King Paolo see reason.
But the king was more stubborn than he’d anticipated.
Madonna diavola.
As much as he wanted to stay out here with his head buried in the sand, it was time to return to the Palazzo Cavelli. Montebianco’s people needed to know their prince was concerned about their welfare and that his pleasure took a backseat to their future. He could not let them down.
The day before Gaetano had died, he’d said, “You should have been Crown Prince, Nico. You’re stronger, more capable. Montebianco needs a man like you.”
Nico had told him not to be so ridiculous, that he was a fine prince and would be a good king. Gaetano had only smiled.
But later that day, they’d argued.
“I don’t want to get married, Nico,” Gaetano had said for what had seemed the hundredth time.
Nico, tired and frustrated with his brother’s reluctance to do his duty when he’d always been so privileged, had lashed out. “Sometimes you have to do what you do not want, Gaetano. It’s your duty as Crown Prince, as our future king.”
Gaetano had looked at him with such sadness. “But I can’t be a husband to her.”
“Dio,” Nico had said, pushing shaky fingers through his hair. “All you need do is get her pregnant. Ensure the succession.”
“You don’t understand, Nico. I can’t. She’s, she’s—”
Nico had feared what was coming, had said firmly and without sympathy, “You can. You must.”
Gaetano had looked away and swallowed. To this day, Nico regretted not letting his brother say what had been on his mind. I can’t because she’s a woman, Nico.
Why had he been afraid to hear it? Why, when he’d always known? Why hadn’t he simply hugged his brother and told him he loved him, no matter what? They would have figured it out together.
But he’d never gotten the chance to say those words because early the next morning Gaetano drove off the cliff. His second attempt at suicide had succeeded and there wasn’t a day that went by when Nico didn’t think he should have done more to prevent it.
Nico would give anything—anything—to bring Gaetano back again. He would fight the king and queen and the entire nation if he had to so that Gaetano could be the person he wanted to be. It’s what he should have done in the first place.
Since he couldn’t change the past, he would do the only thing he knew how. He would honor Gaetano’s memory by being the kind of Crown Prince his brother believed he would be.
He would do his duty, no matter the personal cost.
Chapter Eleven
Lily’s heart climbed into her throat and took up residence there. “You want to do what?”
Nico came into the room, swinging a helmet from one hand. “Come with me, Liliana. It will be fun.”
His expression didn’t exactly look fun-loving. No, if anything she’d say those were lines of strain around his eyes. “I-I’ve never ridden a motorcycle. I don’t know how.”
“You have only to hold onto me.” He caught her around the waist with one broad hand, pulled her toward his leather-clad body. “You can do that, si?”
If she fainted from the light-headedness he induced in her with his mere presence, would she get out of the ride? It was a thought. But there was something in his eyes, something that told her she didn’t want him to go alone.
“I’m not sure it’s safe.”
Nothing about Nico was safe. Over the last few days, he’d managed to somehow make her like him the way she had in New Orleans. In spite of the way they’d begun this time, her heart was bound in another iron band each time she saw him with Danny. Whether he tried to teach their baby Italian, talked nonsense to him, or made him giggle, Lily felt herself melting a little more with every moment they spent together.
Having a baby changed people. Had it changed Nico? Was he enjoying fatherhood? Was Danny as important to him as he was to her? The evidence said yes, but she’d learned not to trust herself so easily. Her father had often made her mother happy for varying lengths of time before he broke her heart yet again. It was a lesson Lily needed to remember.
Especially now, when Nico looked like sin wrapped up and tied with a bow.
“We will go slowly, I promise.”
She motioned at his delicious fantasy of a body. Oh, that form-fitting leather! She hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind since the first time he’d worn it. “I don’t have the appropriate attire.”
“Jeans, boots and a jacket will do for where we are going.”
She blinked. “Where would that be?”
His smile was genuine, and it sent her pulse into overdrive. “It’s a surprise.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lily found herself climbing onto the back of a wicked looking motorcycle and cinching a helmet into place. She wrapped her arms around him while the engine hummed and the smell of leather, rubber, and motor oil filled her nostrils. The bike was sleek, red and silver, and purred like a kitten. Until he revved it.
Lily clutched him tighter as they roared up the drive. The gates opened and he shot between them. A news van sat around the corner from the entrance and it launched forward as they passed.
“Maledizone,” Nico said, the sound coming clearly through the helmet mike. There were a few more words in Italian—which she decided were not in the least polite—and then he said, “Hold on, cara.”
“Nico, please,” she said, her heart thrumming as she thought of her sweet baby back at the house, of the last few days of bliss. Oh God, why had she agreed to this? “I don’t like going so fast!”
“Trust me,” he replied. “A few moments and we will lose them. I will not hurt you, Lily.”
She didn’t reply, simply tightened her arms around him and lay her head against his back. The motorcycle was designed in such a way that she sat higher than he did, and when he leaned over the bars, she had to lay with him or let go. She chose to flatten herself against him.
The bike roared at incredible speeds down the coastal road. “We are approaching a turn. Lean the way I do, si?”
As if she could do anything different. He braked only a hair, then arrowed into the corner, dipping deep to the left, laying the bike nearly flat—and then they were out the other side like they’d been fired from a gun. Her breath stuck in her chest.
She dared to turn her head as much as possible against the wind and blurring landscape. Behind them, the van was nowhere to be seen.
“I think you lost them!”
“I can hear you. There is no need to shout.”
“Sorry.”
“Another few minutes and we’ll get off the road.”
Lily held tight to his torso, finally breathing again when the motorcycle slowed. He made a turn onto a path that led downhill. It was a dirt trail, wide, and lined with brush. They rode on it for several minutes before he turned again, and they emerged onto a remote beach.
He took the motorcycle down to the water’s edge and drove along the packed sand there. They went slowly enough that Lily was able to sit up and gaze out at the cresting waves. A dark band of clouds had moved in, blocking the sun. The day had gone from bright to gray in the space of a few minutes.
“Will it rain?” she asked.
Nico looked up. “Possibly.”
He didn’t seem too concerned, so she didn’t say anything else about it. A few minutes later, he slowed even more, then came to a stop beside a huge, ragged limestone rock that sat like an island in a sea of sand.
“Take my hand and climb down,” he said. “Be sure to watch out for the pipes. They are very hot.”
Lily did as he instructed, removing the helmet while Nico swung a leg over and stood on the sand beside her. He unsnapped his
helmet and tugged it off. “That was fun, yes?”
“Um, not all of it,” Lily said. “It was a little fast.”
“Sometimes fast is best,” Nico said, his mouth lifting in that wicked grin that always sent her heart into overdrive. He appeared more at ease now than he had when they’d started. She wasn’t sure what had changed for him, but she was glad for it.
He set his helmet on the seat, placed hers there as well, then took her hand and led her toward an outcropping of rock a few feet away.
“Where are we going?” she asked again.
“We’re almost there.”
She had no idea what he wanted to show her. Another rock? More sand? She’d thought he’d already taken her to some of the more beautiful spots on this coast. They rounded the cliff face and Lily jolted to a stop.
Nico turned back to look at her. He seemed oddly solemn. “It is extraordinary, isn’t it?”
Lily could only nod. The cliff face bowed inward at this point, creating a half-round bowl that held the skeleton of a wooden ship. The vessel lay on its side, the wood darkened through years of enduring the elements. The remnants of a tattered flag flapped in the strong breeze coming from the direction of the ocean.
“Is it a pirate ship?” she asked, and then felt silly for doing so. She’d been watching too many Hollywood blockbusters.
“No. In fact, it’s not all that old. It is a replica of the days when Montebianco’s wealth came from command of the shipping lanes. But it sank in strong seas during a regatta many years ago and washed up here.”
“Why wasn’t it moved to a museum?”
He shrugged. “Not enough interest, I suppose.” He walked toward the ship and she followed, her imagination spinning out a tale. Though he wore leather, she could easily picture him in breeches, standing on the deck and commanding his men to sail into battle. And though the ship was a replica, it made her think of the history of this country and the long line of kings her husband must descend from.
Filthy Rich Prince: A Filthy Rich Billionaires Book Page 10
