The Prince's Housekeeper Bride

by Carol Marinelli

  He held her in his arms now, his fingers wiping away her tears as Alisa imagined a future as Benito’s mistress.

  “I could take care of you.”

  “People would…“ Her words faded as his thumb played with her bottom lip. Every nerve in her body screamed for the same attention, the air so thick with lust she could hardly breathe.

  “If I kiss you now, Alisa, would that be need or want?”

  “You already know the answer.” She closed her eyes, almost angry at him for the passion he ignited, weakening her body and mind with desire.

  “Say it.”

  “Want.” Full, moist lips delivered her bold answer, the word barely out before his own mouth met hers, every molecule in her body shifting as unhurriedly he devoured her. The taste of him on her, so forbidden it could only be divine.

  “I will care for you.” Benito was kissing her neck now—fervent, hot kisses—her head circling as dormant wishes awoke. His tongue circled the shell of her ears, then moved down, her breasts swelling against his naked chest, her throat closing in delicious shock as he claimed one swollen, mahogany-colored nipple and suckled her deeply.

  “I will look after you…” His fingers toyed with the zipper of her shorts, then slipped inside, parting her and playing with her beating jewel as his mouth worked its magic and his other hand slid her shorts down over her bottom. “I can see you when I am in Niroli. We can be discreet.”

  There was nothing discreet about his erection nudging at her entrance, and nothing discreet about her want. Maybe she could be his mistress, maybe she could be loved some nights, adored by this beautiful man, taken care of just a little bit for the very first time.

  He guided her to the royal stateroom, kissing her each step of the way, skin on skin as his mouth touched her everywhere. Desire matching desire, frenzied hands discarding clothing, warm legs parting at the blissful weight of him on top of her. But want, no matter how fierce, couldn’t rapidly prepare virgin flesh for the first deep stab of him. Biting his chest as he seared inside her, Alisa was unable to stifle the sob that welled in her throat, torn between want and agony as he swelled deeper within her tight, intimate space.

  “No…” The reluctant word was a sob, a muffled scream as her thighs straightened in a regretful reflex as she tried to accommodate him.

  “I’ve hurt you?” His withdrawal was as rapid as his embrace, his shocked features taking in her tears as he scooped her against him. “I thought you wanted—“

  “I did…” she murmured. “I do…” She was crying now, scared and sore but still shamefully wanting, “I’ve never done this before…” Wincing against him, Alisa could almost hear his mind asking impossible questions. “I didn’t tell you the truth. Marietta isn’t my daughter.” She sobbed trying to cover herself, grabbing a sheet, terrified at what she must now admit to this very powerful man. “She’s my sister.”

  “Your sister?” He stared down at her, confusion lacing every feature. “Why?” He shook his head. “Why would you lie to me? Why say she is yours?”

  “Because they would take her away!” Her tear-streaked face turned to his, her eyes pleading for his understanding.

  “But you and your husband can surely—”

  “There is no husband! I raise her alone.”

  “When?” As if she were on fire, he dropped her, emphasizing the very question Alisa had often asked herself. “When do you raise her?”

  “I have to work.” Alisa gasped. “I have to pay for her medicines. Benito, she is unwell, she needs medicine—”

  “Is it any wonder?” The harshness of his voice was like a slap. His dark eyes looked at her with utter distaste. “You are never there for her. And on your one day off you are out sailing and screwing—”

  Grabbing at her clothes, appalled at his reaction, she ran from the boat, but there was no hiding from the truth. His terrifying words taunted her over and over as she raced along the pier until, breathless and dizzy, she arrived at Sunday school to collect her sister.

  “Maybe she would be better off without you.”

  Chapter Six

  “He’s right.” Alisa shivered in misery. Once again Marietta’s sobs and coughing still had not abated despite the lateness of the hour. “I am not here for her enough.”

  “You love her, though,” Bella pointed out. “As soon as you have your qualifications, you will be there for her each morning, at home in the evenings—”

  “Dreams!” This time it was Alisa who gave a weary shrug. “How can I study when I have no work to pay our bills?”

  “You don’t know that yet, not until you go back to the villa…” Bella attempted to be optimistic, but it was hopeless, they both knew that. Alisa had seen the anguish on the old lady’s lined face when, sobbing, Alisa had told her the story.

  “Hold your head high when they fire you, Alisa. He had no right to say those things to you. How could a man of his status possibly know how hard it is?”

  He didn’t want to know.

  Benito didn’t want to think about her life because then he might have to examine his own.

  Didn’t want to ask himself why it was easier to sleep with an unfaithful wife than a virgin aunt.

  Pacing the floor of the villa, a thousand times he halted by the phone, even picked it up a few times to arrange her dismissal as he had done to others so many times in the past, for a spilled glass of wine on his expensive suit, for the fire not being lit when he’d arrived home unannounced. The knot of self-loathing didn’t loosen as he downed a whisky in one gulp as, over and over, he tried to convince himself he was right.

  He worked hard!

  So had they.

  He deserved respect!

  Why?

  “Because I am royalty!” he said it aloud, walked out onto the balcony and stared out to the inky waters of the Mediterranean, to the islands that were his playgrounds, where his reckless, lonely youth had been spent.

  Lonely.

  It was not lonely… Benito sneered at his own thoughts. There had been caregivers, nannies and, later, endless parties, women. Yes, his parents, his brother, had been too busy running the country to bother with him. Francesca, his sister, had tried…until the very day she had died she had indulged him, spoiled him. But when had she really been there for him—when had any of them?

  Who was there for Alisa’s little sister?

  Benito closed his eyes in bitter regret, furious with himself, with her, with everyone. He held the empty glass in his hand so tightly it should surely shatter as he recalled Alisa’s stifled sob as he’d entered her. The pain she been willing to endure—had endured—to provide for her sister searing at his dignity.

  Had Alisa even wanted him at all?

  “Prince Benito…” Her voice did nothing to soothe him now, his face black as thunder when he turned to look at her. “I understand if you must dismiss me. I just ask that you do not reveal…” He watched her swallow, watched that beautiful mouth strain as she tried to form the words. Benito didn’t want to remember the feel of her in his arms, tried and failed not to want her. “I beg you not to reveal the truth about my sister.”

  “There are rules, Alisa. I see the contempt in your eyes for the royalty of Niroli, but they do provide well for their people. Your sister will be given an education, fed properly, looked after—”

  “Kissed good-night?” Alisa challenged. “Loved even when she is so very difficult to love at times?” He didn’t answer so she did it for him. “No one will love her more than I do. Soothe your conscience if you must, believe she is better off with a full belly and devoid of love—I do not have to agree.”

  “You are not there for her.”

  “My neighbor is.”

  “Your neighbor?” Benito sneered, but still she stood proud.

  “Bella is a good woman. A good woman who will lose her sight in the next two years because she cannot get the surgery she needs. I will care for her then as she cares for Marietta now.”

  “There i
s a hospital. Your royal family ensures its people—”

  “The hospital does not do the surgery Bella requires. Will your family pay for her ticket to the mainland, for her appointments and then for her operation?” Alisa gave a mocking laugh. “You choose not to see the disparity, Benito, well that’s your choice. Believe the propaganda you have been fed, if it makes you sleep better at night.”

  “I sleep very at well night.” He stared at her coolly. “I leave after the ball on Saturday—you will continue to work for me till then, but there is one condition.” He watched her flounder as he delivered his offer, “You will attend the ball with me.”

  “No!” She shook her head. “That is as good as firing me. Surely you know that will alienate me. I could never work here again if I attend the ball with you. If you leave afterward, then the whole of Niroli will know—”

  “That is my intention!” A muscle leaped in his cheek as he absolved himself of her problems. “I will give you enough money so you do not have to work for a couple of years, so you can attend night class and still be there for Marietta.”

  “Why do you care about her?” Alisa rasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. Oh, it sounded like a dream offer, but he was changing her world, changing everything and walking away to leave her to deal with the fallout. Asking her to be his discreet mistress was one thing, but to take her out publicly and then walk away? “You have never even met her.”

  “She reminds me of someone.” Benito gave a dismissive shrug. “So what is your response. Do you accept my offer?”

  “I assume I am to spend the night with you afterward?”

  “Of course.” Again he shrugged. “I deserve some compensation.”

  “So do I.” The disgust in her eyes mirrored how Benito felt, so rather than face her, he turned away as she upped the terms of his offer. “You will pay for Bella’s surgery, too.”

  “You are in no position to make demands on me!” He stared at her now. Just who the hell did this little woman think she was?

  “Oh, I mightn’t be in the best position now…” Slowly she walked toward him, hating him, loathing him, not for what he was, but for what he refused to be—the man she was sure was there beneath the pomp and title. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips against his rigid ones, took his hand and guided it toward her, his fingers taut as they attempted to resist, his breath ragged on her cheek as he tried to appear unmoved, but the steel of his erection told her otherwise as she wiggled against him provocatively.

  “As you know, I’m not very experienced with these things. I guess you’ll have to show me the position you want me in after the ball!” Her voice was a throaty whisper as boldly she stroked him, toying with his zipper for a moment, then, with a surly shrug of her own, dropping her hands, breaking all contact. Only her glittering eyes staring up at his as she reiterated her demands. If her actions were shameless she didn’t care—Alisa knew she had something Prince Benito wanted badly, and she intended to use her power wisely.

  Use it for the people she loved.

  Not even limitless funds could ensure a booking at the Niroli Day Spa on the day of the ball.

  Anyone who was invited was someone, which meant the appointment book had been filled months in advance and read like the rich list of Europe. But when it was Prince Benito himself making the booking, insisting in his royal voice that every expertise and treatment was to be made available for his date, after first dropping the receiver in surprise, the booking clerk made a very smart decision and promptly assured him there would be no problem fitting in Alisa Moretti.

  And though not one of the staff who tended to her that day dared voice their misgivings, as she discarded her clothes and wrapped herself in a dusky pink gown, as her body was wrapped in Niroli volcanic mud, as her skin was buffed and oiled and her hair cut and tamed, as every feature was beautifully accentuated under skillful hands, Alisa could see the question in their eyes. The same question that had been in the eyes of the personal shoppers yesterday, the same question that had been loudly voiced by Maria when she had found out what was going on.

  “You?” Her red face was appalled. “Why would he take you?”

  “He just is.” Through white lips Alisa had attempted to explain the impossible. “He just said that he wanted to take me on Saturday, that I am to dress up for him.”

  “Dress up for him behind closed doors then!” Maria shouted as Alisa gave a shocked gasp. “You think I am blind? I have worked in the palace for forty years—you think I don’t know what goes on?”

  “You don’t understand,” Alisa started, but when Maria burst into tears—Maria, who had always screamed at her, always taunted and shouted at her—and actually came over and wrapped her in her arms, Alisa was stunned.

  “I understand that it happens, but you have to be discreet, Alisa. After the ball he will be gone, and you will not be able to work here anymore. Even if a decent man was to want you after this, he could never publicly admit it.”

  “I already have a child,” Alisa sobbed. “I don’t see the men queuing up anyway! This way I can go to the mainland perhaps, start over again where no one knows me.” She’d really thought about it. In the painful week leading to the ball it was almost all she thought about. She’d see Bella through her operation, then, with Marietta as her sister not her daughter, she would study hard and start again….

  “You do what you have to.” Maria shook her head sadly. “Anyway, it is probably too late to say no to him now.”

  Chapter Seven

  Back in the villa, Alisa lifted her silver gown from her wooden single bed, sliding it over head and wrestling with the zipper. She stared at the scratchy gray blankets that wouldn’t house her tonight—instead she’d lie on silk. Lie with Prince Benito and give to him not just what she had promised, but what she wanted to give.

  No matter how she fought it, how she tried to think otherwise, despite the circumstances, the clinical exchange that underpinned tonight, despite herself, she wanted him still.

  Wanted him to be the one.

  Closing her eyes she relived the feel of his hands on her body, saw those arrogant eyes softened with desire, heard the endearment that would spill from his lips for the very last time.

  “Alisa?” Two knocks on her door, and it was Benito who was pausing for modesty. Only, she was positive his hands weren’t shaking as hers had been that first morning. Tonight she was just another woman to him, another conquest, another toy to play with for a little while…. Her throat tightened with tears that she swallowed down, wanting so badly to tell him how she really felt, but as the door opened and he stood there—exquisite in formal wear, his dark hair brushed back to reveal perfectly chiseled features—she closed her mind on telling him her truth. What did it matter to a man like Benito that she might very possibly love him?

  He’d always known she was beautiful. From the second he had awoken to her voice, he had known that. But seeing her tonight, black silken ringlets piled high on her head, jade eyes flashing beneath the makeup, that mouth expertly made up this time, she was more than beautiful…

  She was royal.

  Befitting any Prince or King and, Benito thought pensively as they rode the short distance to the palace in silence, more deserving of any title than he was.

  Even if her world was smaller than his, even if she had offered her services tonight, her intent was noble—Alisa, a woman who would sacrifice herself for her family, used the power vested in her wisely to forge a better life.

  How, Benito thought as the car turned toward the palace, he wished he could say the same for himself.

  The streets were lined with onlookers, young and old, all jostling for a glimpse of their beloved royals, waving the Niroli flag as each car swept up to the palace entrance, cheering and applauding when the elegant couples stepped out.

  Cheering her.

  The gossip had spread like wildfire through Niroli; Maria’s family, personal dressers, booking clerks gleeful whispers, all fanning the fl
ames as the rumor spread from village to village.

  A housekeeper was sleeping with a prince.

  A poor housekeeper with a bastard child had stolen Prince Benito’s heart.

  The shock, the scorn, the scandal were pushed aside as he led her like a lamb to the slaughter up the impressive palace steps, his hand guiding her softly, his low voice telling her to turn around and wave.

  “Did I tell you that you look beautiful?”

  “Never.” He watched as curled eyelashes blinked back emotion, her skillfully painted lips forcing a brave smile as she waved to the cheering masses. Never had he hated himself more.

  Tonight, Benito realized as he stared out into the ecstatic crowd, she was a princess in waiting, yet the moment he left, the same people would be jeering her.

  Tomorrow she would be a whore.

  She was a dreamer.

  And even if it got her into trouble at times, tonight it helped.

  Helped to close her eyes and pretend that this was forever, made it easier to imagine that the arms that were holding her tonight would still be there tomorrow, that this sensual, complicated man could be hers to love always.

  Feasting on the delicacies, dancing to the music, laughing softly at private jokes, lost in their own world, they made the most beautiful couple. Alisa, demure yet somehow bold, brave enough to make small talk with dignitaries. For the first time Benito questioned the impossible.

  Could he have her, not as his lover or mistress, but as his wife?

  For the first time in his shallow existence, Benito wasn’t thinking about himself, or his royal duty or whether his family could accept her. Holding her in his arms, feeling her heart flutter against his chest, feeling her so delicate but so strong beneath his fingers…Benito was thinking about her.

  If this stubborn, fiery, proud woman could actually accept him.