Secret Prince's Christmas Seduction

by Carol Marinelli

  But even Blue Grotto kisses must end.

  It was cold and getting dark when he held out his hand and helped her into the speedboat. Instead of going to his yacht, they headed to shore.

  The Christmas lights of Capri were truly an amazing sight—not that he’d really paid attention before. They strolled through the square, with its carpets of fairy lights on the buildings and in canopies above them. It was like walking through a nativity scene, with towering musical trees draped in a million lights.

  ‘This is the best day of my life,’ Antonietta told him. ‘The best Christmas.’

  For this was her Christmas she decided. Tonight, here with Rafe.

  It was cold, though, and their time on the water and the salty ocean breeze meant that not even his arm around her and her new thick coat could keep her from shivering.

  ‘Let’s go and eat,’ Rafe said.

  ‘I want ravioli caprese while I’m here,’ Antonietta said, ‘and chocolate torte...’

  Any restaurant in Capri would serve that. And all the best restaurants, he knew, would have a table reserved for them.

  Yet he was sick to the back teeth of restaurants.

  There was somewhere else he wanted to take Antonietta.

  ‘Come on, then.’

  He called for his driver, and as he saw Antonietta into the vehicle he told the driver where they were headed.

  The driver asked him to repeat the location.

  ‘You heard,’ Rafe said, although he knew it was unheard of for him to take a date to one of his family’s private residences.

  They drove slowly up a hill and then turned in at a concealed entrance. She peered out of the darkened windows for a sign that might tell her the name of the restaurant he had chosen, but there wasn’t one. Antonietta looked over to Rafe for an explanation as some gates slid open and they drove slowly up a steep path canopied in trees.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘My family has a private residence here.’

  ‘You family?’ she croaked. ‘They won’t be here?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Rafe said. ‘I thought it might be pleasanter than a restaurant.’

  Antonietta wasn’t so sure... A polite greeting awaited them, but she could sense the caution in the staff when they arrived.

  The entrance to the villa was vast, with high vaulted ceilings that seemed to shrink her as they stepped inside. Rafe took off his coat and handed it to the butler, who waited for Antonietta to do the same.

  Rafe could feel her discomfort as she handed over her coat and was already ruing his decision to bring her here as he led her through to the lounge.

  A huge fire was waiting, and Antonietta stood and warmed her hands as the butler poured drinks.

  ‘They must have been expecting you,’ she said, referring to the fire and the fleet of staff. ‘But from their surprise I thought you had arrived unannounced.’

  The surprise was Antonietta.

  Not that he told her.

  ‘They are used to me arriving at all hours,’ Rafe said. ‘I’m sorry if it feels awkward to be here. I never thought...’

  ‘No,’ Antonietta said. ‘I’m glad to be here. I’m just...’

  She was just overwhelmed—not by her surroundings, but by the fact that he had brought her here. The fact that this man, who had told her he was cold, had lit a flame in her heart. How this man, who was a prince, somehow made her feel not just equal but as if she had found her missing part.

  ‘I’m hungry!’ she said, because that felt safe.

  ‘Then let’s get dressed for dinner.’

  They climbed the stairs, and it felt so different from the monastery—for, no matter how luxurious, that was still a hotel. This was a home, with pictures lining the stairwell, and though it might be one of many homes there were personal touches that no hotel could replicate.

  When she stepped into his bedroom it was Rafe’s books upon the shelves and his chosen artwork on the walls.

  And there was his bed.

  A high, ornate, dark wooden bed, dressed in jade velvet. She couldn’t resist sitting on the edge and bouncing up and down. It felt as delicious as it looked.

  He took her leg and removed one of her gorgeous suede boots.

  ‘I would love to sleep here,’ she said.

  She wanted to know what it was like to sleep in Rafe’s own bed, and to know a little more of his life.

  ‘Then do.’

  ‘I have to be back for work,’ she reminded him as he removed the other boot. ‘I have a shift in the Oratory.’

  But she forgot about work after that, liking how deftly he undressed her, lifting her bottom as he removed her stockings, and her panties too, and then pushed her shoulders down so she toppled back onto the mattress.

  She lifted up onto her elbows and watched as he parted her legs and exposed her. And then examined her with desirous eyes. She should be shy, Antonietta thought. Yet she was not.

  There was no kiss, no preamble. And her legs were pliant, rather than resisting, as Rafe placed them over his wide shoulders.

  ‘I have to taste you,’ Rafe said.

  ‘Then do.’

  He had been right to bring her here. Rafe knew it then. She deserved better than exposed temple grounds, and she did not need the ghosts of his past on the yacht, nor another nameless hotel, Rafe thought as he parted legs that were still cold from their day out.

  She was warm there though.

  He looked at her glistening folds and all he could do was taste...

  Antonietta did not know, had not even imagined, that a mouth could deliver such bliss. His unshaven jaw was rough, and though his tongue was soft it made her feel exquisitely tender. There was no desire to pull away. He tasted her slowly and leisurely as her heart seemed to beat in her throat. He explored her more thoroughly, just a little roughly, and her thighs trembled as he tasted her deeply, dizzied her with light suction, then with decadent flicks with his tongue.

  And never—not once—did she ask him to stop.

  He was probing, and thorough and she found that she was panting, desperate—but for what she didn’t quite know. Her hands went up and grasped at the bedcover, but it kept slipping away, like her own control.

  ‘Rafe!’ she pleaded—except she didn’t know for what she was pleading.

  She was back in the Blue Grotto on the crystalline waters. She was floating again, yet held by his mouth. She could hear her own voice calling his name as her fingers knotted in his thick hair.

  He moaned into her, and his mouth was more insistent now. He was kneeling up and pulling her deeper into him. There was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide from the bliss he delivered. Every nerve in her body seemed arrowed to her centre, every beat of her heart felt aimed at her sex—until she sobbed and shattered and pulsed to his skilled mouth.

  And he tasted her all through it. Even as her orgasm was fading he tenderly caressed those last flickers from her and then knelt back.

  His swallow was the most intimate sound she had ever heard.

  * * *

  Antonietta dressed for dinner in the silver-grey dress she had bought earlier that day, then sat at the large dressing table and got ready. Her hair fell into perfect shape as she ran a silver comb through it and Aurora’s red lipstick was worn again.

  Rafe had never known a woman to take so little time to get dressed for dinner and to look so breathtaking when she did. But it was not the dress, nor the hair that had transformed her. It was the sparkle in her eyes, Rafe realised, and he felt proud that he had brought joy to her.

  ‘You look amazing,’ he told her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She smiled and then added, ‘You always do.’

  And never more so than now. Rafe had shaved, his raven hair was brushed back, and he had changed into a deep navy suit.

  She und
erstood better the merits of dressing for dinner, for she felt a certain thrill that he had dressed so smartly, so immaculately, even though they were not to be seen, for they were not going out. Rafe had shaved and dressed with care only for her.

  He took her up to a moonlit terrace, looking out to the Faraglioni rock formations. They sat at a beautifully dressed table, under burners that kept them as warm as a real fire.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m here,’ Antonietta said.

  ‘I can,’ Rafe said.

  It felt right.

  Dinner was served, and somehow it was an intimate affair, and she gasped when ravioli caprese arrived.

  ‘How did the chef know?’

  ‘I told him,’ Rafe said. ‘Though we might have to wait a little while for the chocolate torte.’

  ‘I don’t mind waiting,’ Antonietta said. Then asked, ‘Do you come here a lot?’

  ‘Not often,’ Rafe said. ‘My father uses it as a retreat, but I tend to give it a miss and stay out on my yacht.’ He saw her slight frown. ‘Growing up, I would come here sometimes in summer.’

  ‘With your family?’

  ‘No. My mother felt holidays were pointless. I came here with the nanny, and later I would bring friends.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Vetted, of course.’

  ‘But I am not vetted.’

  ‘You have been by me,’ Rafe said. ‘And I like everything I see.’

  ‘You have my discretion.’

  ‘I know that.’ And for the first time in his life he really did.

  ‘This has been the perfect day.’

  ‘An unplanned day,’ Rafe admitted. ‘I was going to take you to my yacht, but then you said you wanted to see the Christmas lights and eat struffoli...’

  ‘You were taking me to your yacht?’ Antonietta checked. ‘For what? Sex?’

  ‘And fine dining.’ Rafe smiled. ‘Thankfully, I realised just in time that you wanted a day trip.’

  And now he had been so honest, she could be honest too. ‘I just wanted a day with you, Rafe.’

  Well, she’d got it. Rafe had given her a perfect day. And yet the moon moved too fast behind the clouds, and their time together was slipping away.

  Dessert was served, and it was delicious—especially when fed to her from his silver spoon.

  The second Rafe dismissed the staff she slipped from her side of the table to his knee and they tasted each other again.

  She wanted his bed. His velvet bed. She wanted to lie there tonight and to wake with him tomorrow and for their time together to never end.

  ‘We should head back,’ Rafe told her. ‘If you have to be at work.’

  She heard the unsubtle emphasis.

  ‘I do,’ Antonietta said. ‘I can’t let them down...’

  Rafe would be gone soon, and right now work was the only constant she had.

  ‘I have to get back.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘But not yet...’

  Not before he took her to his velvet bed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANTONIETTA WASN’T LATE, EXACTLY.

  The helicopter pilot made excellent time and they arrived just before the winter sun rose above the horizon—which gave Antonietta just enough time for a quick shower and to change, though she was cutting it fine.

  There was no morning chat with Pino.

  Antonietta had got away with it.

  Rafe hadn’t.

  Before he had even shrugged out of his coat his father was on the phone. The call was neither unexpected nor pleasant.

  ‘What the hell were you thinking, parading this woman in Capri?’ his father demanded.

  ‘Hardly “parading”,’ Rafe said. ‘It hasn’t even made the papers.’ He knew, because while Antonietta had been dozing beside him on the flight home he’d checked.

  ‘Only because your PR team have been working all night to silence it.’ The King was incensed. ‘You are supposed to be recovering—’

  ‘I am fully recovered,’ Rafe interrupted.

  ‘Then come home.’

  ‘I’m not due back until Christmas Eve.’

  ‘That wasn’t a suggestion, Rafe. You have been given an extremely generous length of rope, yet you choose to ignore all the conditions that come with it. Well, no more. You are to return home. And in the New Year there shall be an announcement as to your upcoming marriage. The party is over, Rafe.’

  ‘I am in no position to get engaged,’ Rafe answered curtly. ‘As you are clearly aware, I am currently seeing someone.’

  It was more than he had wanted to reveal—more than he had even acknowledged to himself. But the fact was he was more involved with Antonietta than he had ever been or intended to be with anyone.

  ‘Then unsee her,’ the King said.

  Rafe walked out onto the balcony and there, crossing the grounds, was Antonietta. She was dressed in a white uniform and tying her hair back as she walked briskly to begin her shift.

  ‘It’s not that straightforward—’

  ‘Are you forgetting who you are conversing with?’ his father cut in.

  For a moment Rafe had. But he was not under the thumb of his parents—it was the full weight of his title that came crashing down as the King spoke on.

  ‘Your accident caused great concern, Rafe. You have a responsibility to marry and to produce heirs.’

  ‘It is too soon,’ Rafe said.

  He was not even thinking of himself—more of Antonietta finding out he was engaged a few days after they’d ended.

  ‘As I said, I am seeing someone, and she—’

  ‘She has no bearing on this discussion,’ the King said. ‘She is a lowly maid, who has been disowned by her own family because of a chequered past...’

  ‘Don’t even go there!’ Rafe shouted.

  ‘I should say the same to you,’ his father shot back. ‘Rafe, if you are particularly enamoured of this woman, then after your marriage, after an appropriate length of time, you can discreetly—’

  ‘Don’t!’ Rafe interrupted, and his voice was low and threatening, even if his father was the King. ‘Don’t even try to give me relationship advice or instruct me on how to conduct my marriage.’

  ‘Again, I remind you of to whom you are speaking,’ the King said. ‘I shall grant you this day to conclude matters and then I expect your return to the palace this night.’

  The King had spoken and he was calling him home.

  * * *

  It was a busy day in the Oratory. As Antonietta had predicted, a lot of the guests had saved their treatments to be taken close to Christmas. And even if Christmas was a somewhat muted affair out in the main building, here in the Oratory it was festive indeed.

  She painted many nails red and even performed her first massage on a paying client.

  ‘Busy day?’ Pino asked, long after six, when the last client had finally left.

  ‘Very.’ She sighed. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Lots of activity...’ He halted. ‘Never mind.’ It would seem that Pino had found his discretion button. ‘Ready for Christmas?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘Is that for Aurora?’ Pino asked, when she showed him the large bottle of fragrant oil she had purchased with her staff discount.

  It was easier to nod—though of course it was for Rafe. Antonietta had decided that chocolate wasn’t enough, and had been racking her brains as to what she could get him. What was a person supposed to buy for a prince who had everything?

  Including her heart.

  She had let go of her heart and lost it to Blue Grotto kisses, and now she had spent half a week’s wages on a bottle of neroli oil and had it wrapped in a bow.

  Antonietta had never been happier in her life and it had not gone unnoticed—even Pino commented now that she looked brighter.

 
‘I’m just...’ But Antonietta could not explain the joy that radiated from her, nor her sudden exuberance, for fraternising with guests was strictly forbidden. So she blamed the season of goodwill for her wide smile. ‘Looking forward to Christmas, I guess.’

  Which was a lie, because she was actually dreading it, for by Christmas Rafe would be gone.

  ‘Only four more days,’ Pino said, and then his phone started to ring. ‘Do you mind if I get that? It’s my daughter—she’s with the in-laws and worried about me.’

  ‘Sure.’ Antonietta smiled. ‘Say hi from me.’

  He gave her a wave and as she stepped into the night she saw that Pino was huddled over his phone, with his back to her, engrossed in his conversation.

  There were no guests coming in or out to concern him. No cars arriving or helicopters approaching, nor guests checking in or out.

  She could walk the fifteen minutes it would take her to get home, quickly get changed, and then walk the fifteen minutes back to Rafe’s suite’s private entrance.

  Or she could go there now and have an extra thirty-five minutes with him.

  And when you only had three days until Christmas Eve, when the man you were falling for was leaving, those minutes counted. And so, instead of walking home, Antonietta walked back inside the monastery.

  If Pino saw her she would say she had left her phone, or something.

  But there was no need for the excuses she had practised, for so deep in conversation was Pino that she entered unseen, slipped behind the stone partition and took the elevator without being spotted.

  Past the Starlight and Temple Suites and through the cloister she walked briskly, wondering which excuse she would give if she was caught.

  There was no guard on the door, and Antonietta frowned, because she had never known Rafe’s suite to be unattended. And it was not just his suite that was unguarded. As she swiped her card and pushed the door open Antonietta realised that her heart was unguarded too.

  For almost the first time since his arrival she hadn’t spent the day with her ears strained for the sound of his helicopter, signalling that he was leaving. Or for Francesca’s voice informing her that Signor Dupont had departed and she should turn over his suite.