Secret Prince's Christmas Seduction

by Carol Marinelli

  Claimed by the prince

  For Christmas or forever?

  Sicilian chambermaid Antonietta prides herself on her discretion, so she’s mortified by her inappropriate reaction to her hotel’s newest guest! Antonietta has no idea Rafael is the notorious prince of Tulano. All she knows is that his touch lights her up more brightly than a Christmas tree.

  Their unexpected connection floors cynical Rafe. All he can offer is a temporary festive seduction before resuming his royal duties. But unwrapping the precious gift of Antonietta’s virginity changes everything. Rafe must choose—his crown, or Antonietta...

  The air was charged. Antonietta looked as if Rafe had just kissed her, and he could feel the energy between them and her increasing awareness of him.

  His sad maid looked exactly as she might if he had her pressed against the wall.

  “I could have one of my security detail come and speak with you?”

  “Why would they need to speak with me?” She frowned, trying to untangle her thoughts from his words. Trying to remind herself that she was at work. “Is there a problem with security in the suite?” She was desperately trying to hold a normal conversation as her body screamed for contact with his. “If that’s the case I can let Francesca know.”

  She knew nothing about his ways, Rafe realised.

  “It’s fine,” Rafe said. “My mistake.”

  “Mistake?” Antonietta checked, and he could see that her eyes were perturbed, that she assumed she’d said something wrong.

  But she’d said everything right.

  For this was far more straightforward and yet way more complicated than a contracted affair.

  This was pure, unadulterated lust.

  From both of them.

  And he actually believed now that she had no idea who he was.

  Crown Prince Rafael of Tulano.

  Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put “writer.” Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth—“writing.” The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered “swimming”—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

  Books by Carol Marinelli

  Harlequin Presents

  One Night With Consequences

  The Sicilian’s Surprise Love-Child

  Secret Heirs of Billionaires

  Claiming His Hidden Heir

  Claimed for the Sheikh’s Shock Son

  Billionaires & One-Night Heirs

  The Innocent’s Secret Baby

  Bound by the Sultan’s Baby

  Sicilian’s Baby of Shame

  Ruthless Royal Sheikhs

  Captive for the Sheikh’s Pleasure

  The Ruthless Deveraux Brothers

  The Innocent’s Shock Pregnancy

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Cinderella

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Carol Marinelli

  Secret Prince’s Christmas Seduction

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM A DEAL TO CARRY THE ITALIAN'S HEIR BY TARA PAMMI

  PROLOGUE

  ‘THANKS, BUT I’M really hoping to be spending Christmas with my family.’ Realising that she might have come across as ungrateful, Antonietta immediately apologised. ‘It’s very kind of you to invite me, but...’

  ‘I get it.’ Aurora shrugged as she carried on helping Antonietta to unpack. ‘You didn’t come to Silibri to spend Christmas Day with the Messinas.’

  ‘Ah, but you’re a Caruso now!’ Antonietta smiled.

  The cemetery in the village of Silibri, where Antonietta had loved to wander, held many names, but there were a few constants, and Caruso, Messina and Ricci were the prominent ones.

  Especially Ricci.

  The Ricci family extended across the south-west region of Sicily and beyond, but Silibri was its epicentre. Antonietta’s father, who was the chief fire officer and a prominent landowner, was well connected and held in high regard.

  ‘Do you know...?’ Antonietta paused in hanging up the few clothes she owned. ‘If I had married Sylvester then I wouldn’t even have had to change my surname. I would still be Antonietta Ricci.’

  ‘Yes, and you would be married to your second cousin and living in a property on the grounds of your father’s home, with Sylvester working for him.’

  ‘True...’ Antonietta started to say, but then faltered.

  She had run away on her wedding day, five years ago, in rather spectacular style—climbing out of the bedroom window as her father waited outside to take her to the packed church. Sylvester was popular in the village, and a member of her extended family, so the fallout had been dire—her family had rejected her completely. Letters and emails had gone unanswered and her mother hung up on her whenever she called to try and make her case.

  She had spent four years living and working in France, but though she had persisted with the language, and made friends there, it had never felt like home. So she had come back to Silibri, for Aurora and Nico’s wedding, but there had been no welcome committee to greet her. Instead she had been shunned by both her immediate and extended family.

  Rejecting Sylvester, and so publicly, had been taken as a rejection of them and their closed family values and traditions.

  Since Nico and Aurora’s wedding she had been working at Nico’s grand hotel in Rome, as a chambermaid. But Rome was not home either, and she had often confided to her friend how she missed Silibri.

  Antonietta had wanted one final chance to make amends, and Aurora had offered a solution—she could work as a chambermaid in Nico’s new hotel in Silibri while training part-time as a massage therapist. The old monastery there had been painstakingly rebuilt, and refurbished to Nico’s exacting standards, and it was more a luxurious retreat than a hotel. To train there would be a career boost indeed.

  It was an opportunity that Antonietta didn’t want to miss—but, given the level of animosity towards her, it was clear she would struggle to live in the village. Aurora had had a solution to that too—there was a small stone cottage, set on the cliff-edge, and Aurora had said she was more than welcome to use it.

  ‘The internet connection is terrible there and it’s too close to the helipad and hangar for the guests,’ Aurora had explained, ‘so it’s just sitting empty.’

  ‘Hopefully I shan’t need it for too long,’ Antonietta had replied. ‘Once my family know that I’m back and working...’

  She had seen the doubtful look flicker in her dear friend’s eyes. The same doubtful look that flickered now, as Antonietta insisted she would be back with her family for the festivities.

  ‘Antonietta...?’

  She heard the question in her friend’s voice and braced herself. Aurora was as outspoken as Antonietta was quiet, but till now her friend had refrained from stating the obvious.

  ‘
It’s been five years since your family have spoken to you...’

  ‘I know that,’ Antonietta said. ‘But it’s not as if I’ve actually given them much opportunity to do so.’

  ‘You came back for my wedding,’ Aurora pointed out. ‘And you were ignored by them.’

  ‘I think they were just shocked to see me. But once they know I’m properly here, that I’m back for good...’

  Aurora sat down on the bed but Antonietta remained standing, not wanting to have the conversation that was to come.

  ‘It’s been years,’ Aurora said again. ‘You were only twenty-one when it happened, and now you are close to turning twenty-six! Isn’t it time to stop beating yourself up?’

  ‘But I’m not,’ Antonietta said. ‘It’s been an amazing five years. I’ve travelled and I’ve learnt a new language. It’s not as if I’m walking around in sackcloth and ashes—most of the time life is wonderful. It’s just at...’

  Just at other times.

  Times that should surely be spent with family.

  ‘Christmas is especially hard,’ Antonietta admitted. ‘It is then that I miss them the most. And I find it hard to believe that they don’t think of me and miss me also. Especially my mother. I want to give them one final chance...’

  ‘Fair enough—but what about fun?’ Aurora persisted. ‘I get that it hasn’t been all doom and gloom, but you haven’t spoken of any friends. I never hear you saying you’re going on a date...’

  ‘You never dated anyone until Nico,’ Antonietta said rather defensively.

  ‘Only because I have loved Nico my entire life,’ Aurora said. ‘No one compared. But at least I tried once...’

  They both laughed as they recalled Aurora’s attempt to get over Nico by getting off with a fireman, but then Antonietta’s laughter died away. There was a very good reason she hadn’t dated. One that she hadn’t even shared with her closest friend. It wasn’t just the fact that Sylvester was her second cousin that had caused Antonietta to flee on her wedding day. It had been her dread of their wedding night.

  Sylvester’s kisses had repulsed Antonietta, and the rough, urgent roaming of his hands had terrified her. And her reluctance to partake had infuriated him.

  It had all come to a head for Antonietta in the weeks before the planned wedding, when she had come to dread time spent alone with her fiancé. On more than a couple of occasions he had almost overpowered her, and Antonietta had been forced to plead with Sylvester and say that she was saving herself for her wedding night.

  ‘Frigida,’ he had called her angrily.

  And very possibly she was, Antonietta had concluded, because to this day the thought of being intimate with a man left her cold.

  At the time she had tried voicing her fears about it to her mamma, but her advice had been less than reassuring. Her mamma had told her that once she was married it was her wifely duty to perform ‘once a week to keep him happy’.

  As the wedding night had loomed closer, so had Antonietta’s sense of dread. And that feeling of dread, whenever she thought of kissing a man, let alone being intimate with a man, had stayed with her.

  She wished she could speak about it with Aurora. But her friend was so confident with her sexuality, and so deliriously happy in her marriage that instead of confiding in her, Antonietta remained eternally private and kept the darkest part of her soul to herself.

  ‘It’s time to live a little,’ Aurora pushed now.

  ‘I agree.’ Antonietta nodded, even if she didn’t quite believe it herself. ‘But first I have to give my parents this chance to forgive me.’

  ‘For what, Antonietta?’ Aurora was blunt. ‘Sylvester was your second cousin; the fact is they just wanted to keep their money in the family and keep the Ricci name strong—’

  ‘Even so...’ It was Antonietta who interrupted now. ‘I shamed my parents in front of their entire family. I left Sylvester standing at the altar! You saw the fallout, Aurora...’

  ‘Yes...’

  Apparently a huge fight had broken out in the church. Antonietta hadn’t hung around to witness it, though; she had timed it so she had been on the train out of Silibri by then.

  ‘I miss having a family.’ It was the simple truth. ‘They are not perfect—I know that—but I miss having them in my life. And even if we cannot reconcile I feel there is unfinished business between us. Even if it is a final goodbye then I want it to be said face to face.’

  ‘Well, the offer’s there if you change your mind,’ Aurora said. ‘Nico and I want Gabe to celebrate his first Christmas in Silibri...’ Her voice trailed off as she pulled a swathe of scarlet fabric from Antonietta’s case. ‘This is beautiful—where did you get it?’

  ‘Paris.’ Antonietta smiled and ran her hands fondly over the fabric. ‘I bought it just after I arrived there.’ It had been a late summer’s day and, having just written to her parents, she had been buoyed by the prospect of reconciliation. ‘I was walking through Place Saint-Pierre and I wandered into a fabric store.’

  She had decided to celebrate her happy mood and there amongst the brocades and velvets she had found a bolt of stunning crimson silk and bought a length.

  ‘You have had it all this time and done nothing with it?’ Aurora checked as Antonietta wrapped it back in its tissue paper and placed it in the bottom drawer of a heavy wooden chest. ‘You cannot leave this hiding in a drawer.’

  ‘I might make some cushions with it.’

  ‘Cushions?’ Aurora was aghast. ‘That fabric deserves to be made into a dress and taken out!’

  ‘Oh? And when will I ever wear it?’

  ‘As a last resort you can wear it in your coffin,’ Aurora said with typical Sicilian dark humour. ‘You can lie there dead and people can say Look how beautiful she almost was! Give it to me and let me make something with it.’

  Aurora was a brilliant seamstress, and would certainly make something beautiful, but it was almost reluctantly that Antonietta handed over the fabric.

  ‘Let me get your measurements,’ Aurora said.

  ‘I don’t have a tape measure.’

  But of course Aurora did. And so, instead of unpacking, Antonietta stood, feeling awkward and shy in her underwear, holding her long, straight black hair up as Aurora took her measurements down to the last detail.

  ‘You are so slim,’ Aurora said as she wrote them all down. ‘One of my legs is the size of your waist.’

  ‘Rubbish!’

  They were lifelong best friends and complete opposites. Aurora was all rippling curls and curves, and she exuded confidence, whereas Antonietta was as reserved and as slender as her shadow that now fell on the stone wall. The evening was cool, rather than cold, but the year was certainly moving into winter, and she shivered as Aurora took her time, writing down the measurements.

  Antonietta tried to hurry her along. ‘Nico will be here for you soon,’ she warned.

  He was checking on the hotel while Aurora helped her settle in, but soon his helicopter would come to return both him and Aurora to their residence in Rome.

  ‘Aren’t you going to drop in and visit your parents before you head back?’

  ‘I am avoiding them.’ Aurora rolled her eyes. ‘Can you believe they want Nico to employ my lazy, good-for-nothing brother as chief groundskeeper for the Old Monastery?’

  Antonietta laughed. Aurora’s brother was lazy indeed.

  ‘It’s no joke,’ Aurora said. ‘You would need a scythe to get to work if Nico relented. My brother is as bone idle as yours, but of course now me and Nico are married he seems to think that Nico owes him a job!’

  ‘I hope Nico didn’t feel obliged to employ me...’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Aurora cut her off. ‘You are a hard worker and the Old Monastery is lucky to have you.’

  Even so, it was a huge favour for them to give her this cottage as she worked o
n making amends for the past.

  The sound of Nico’s chopper starting up made Aurora look out of the window. ‘There he is...’ She kissed her friend on both cheeks and gave her a hug. ‘Good luck starting work and I’ll see you on Christmas Eve—if not before. And I mean it, Antonietta. If things don’t work out with your family, the offer to join us is there.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Antonietta said. ‘But Christmas is still a couple of months away; there is plenty of time for things to sort themselves out.’

  ‘You’ll be okay?’ Aurora checked. ‘You really are a bit cut off here.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Antonietta assured her. ‘Thanks so much for this.’

  Nico did not come into the cottage; instead he headed straight to the chopper and Antonietta watched as Aurora joined him. They were clearly both happy to be heading back to Rome and little Gabe, who would soon be turning one. She was glad that Nico hadn’t dropped in. She was starting work soon, and didn’t want her co-workers thinking that she had a direct line to the boss through her friend.

  It felt odd, though, after Aurora had gone and she was truly alone.

  The cottage was beautifully furnished, with a modern kitchen and a cosy living area, and she wandered through it, taking in not just the furnishings but the stunning view of the ocean from her bedroom. No beach was visible, just choppy waves and crashing foam. Despite the cool evening she opened the window, just to drown out the crippling silence that had descended since Aurora had left.

  She was home, Antonietta told herself.

  Not that it felt like it.

  In truth, Silibri never had.

  Antonietta had never quite felt she belonged.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Six weeks later

  ANTONIETTA WAS UP long before the Sicilian winter sun. For a while she lay in the dark bedroom of her little stone cottage, listening to the sound of the waves rolling in and crashing on the rocks below. It might have worked in the meditation of monks of old, and it might be a tranquil backdrop for the guests, but it brought little peace to Antonietta.