Honeymoon With a Prince (Royal Scandals) (37 page)

He covered her small hands with his own and stared into her expressive, chestnut-brown eyes.
 
“Do I look like anything’s wrong?”

“Not now, no.
 
You don’t
look
like it.
 
Other than the fact your hair is wet.”

“It’s the first time in a long time I’ve actually had enough hair to get wet.”

“But we’re not talking about your hair, are we?”
 
Her fingers twitched under his.
 
“I think you need to admit to yourself that something’s amiss.
 
Whatever drove you outdoors in the rain, whatever drove you to defend yourself from an attacker who wasn’t real, you’re more than strong enough to deal with it.
 
But not if you ignore it.”

Or fight it off, he thought.
 
Because that’s exactly what he’d been doing.
 
Fighting the twinges in his gut and trying to reason his way through the sensations of choking, of being crushed, of being burned.
 

What was it about this woman that allowed her to see in him what no one else could?
 
What even he himself didn’t want to see?

“Thank you.”
 
The words were said softly and came out before he could consider them.
 
It was tantamount to admitting she was right.
 
He leaned forward, pressed his forehead to hers, then allowed his eyes to close.
 

Her fingers relaxed and she started to pull away, to transition back to formality.
 
But he held her in place, dipped his head and brushed her lips with his.

She didn’t kiss him back.
 
He felt her intake of breath, sensed her internal struggle.
 
He knew, deep in his soul, that she wanted him.
 
And that made him want her all the more.

“Massimo.”
 
Her forehead still rested against his, their breath mingling between their rain-dampened faces.
 
“I’m working for you now.
 
Wasn’t part of the point of employing me to—”

“Shhh.
 
For just one minute.
 
One
.”

Chapter Twenty-One

This time, when he caught her mouth with his, she returned the kiss.
 

There was a pause at first, then a capitulation as she tilted her head to allow him better access before she melted against him.
 
Her fingers remained pressed to his face, his fingers woven through hers, as their tongues made a slow, hot exploration of each other.
 
The emotion of it washed through his soul, cleansing him more thoroughly than any rainstorm.

In another week, she’d go home.
 
On top of that, the woman clearly had her own issues.
 
But for now, he couldn’t think about practicalities.
 
He wanted only to make love to her, to slake the bone-deep thirst she’d created within him.
 

He let go of her fingers to sink his hands into her wet hair.
 
With a shift of his leg, he trapped her body flush with his.
 
God, but she fit against him as if they were made for each other.
 
Even her head fit perfectly into his hands.
 

Still, he knew he had to stop.
 
Had to give her space to choose what she’d give, though his body ached for one more moment, one more taste.
 
A sigh escaped he as she shifted, stretching to her toes.
 
The friction of her body moving up, up against his growing erection nearly sent him out of his mind.
 

It would be so easy to turn her toward the bed.
 

With Herculean effort, he broke the kiss and met her hooded gaze.
 
He let his hands drift down to her shoulders, then to her arms.
 
“Do I look better now?
 
Because I feel better.”

She was quiet for a moment.
 
At long last, in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to get another kiss, let alone a night in bed, she said, “You’ll do.
 
Robert would tell you that your hair needs work, but the rest is good.”
 
Gently, she stroked her thumbs over his cheekbones.
 
“In fact, there are women who would die for skin like yours.”
 

Her declaration brought a booming laugh from him.
 
While she’d said it to break the sexual tension thrumming between them, the puzzled line of her mouth showed she had no clue why it amused him as much as it did.

“They wouldn’t if they saw the skin on my back,” he explained.
 
“But thank you for the compliment.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes and her hands fell to her sides.
 
“Ah.
 
Now it’s my turn to apologize.
 
I hadn’t considered that.
 
I suspect that
you
almost died for that skin.”

“No idea if I did or didn’t.
 
No one would tell me.
 
But the recovery hurt like hell.”

“I imagine.”
 
Her voice turned serious.
 
“Was it an army injury?”

Now he definitely wasn’t getting laid.
 
Not that he had a realistic chance in the first place.
 
He should consider himself lucky he managed a kiss, given Kelly’s initial resistance.
 
“Yes.”

“That’s the kind of trauma that changes a person.”

“Yes, it does.”
 
Saying it aloud made him realize the truth in the statement.
 
Years in the military honed him into the man he was now.
 
He’d known with each day of training and each new assignment that his duties were making him tougher, more resilient.
 
But he’d never thought of it as
changing
him…only as making him a stronger version of the man he’d always been.
 

The burns, though, those changed him.
 

A shiver ran through Kelly.
 
Without speaking, he spun and went into the bathroom, intent on getting a towel.

Her voice came to him from the bedroom.
 
“I didn’t mean to pry.
 
You don’t have to talk about it.
 
I’m sure it’s a private matter.”

He was back before she finished speaking.
 
Offering her an oversized towel, he said, “I left because you’re freezing.
 
The last towel wasn’t enough to get your hair dry and then you used it to clean my floor.”

“Oh.”

“And you’re right.
 
It’s a private matter.
 
For a number of reasons, I haven’t talked about it to anyone.”
 
She dried her face and hair as he spoke.
 
The towel prevented him from gauging her expression when he added, “I appreciate that you didn’t ask me about it when we were at your villa.”
 

“It didn’t seem appropriate.”
 
Slowly, she moved the towel to her shoulders and wrapped it around herself.
 
Mascara ringed her eyes, smudged by her efforts to dry off.
 
Less than an hour ago, he’d been surrounded by high-class, cultured women, all dressed to the nines and with their faces made up to perfection.
 
Yet he found the woman before him far more alluring.

She made him want to talk.
 
That made her dangerous.
 

Gaspare, who’d been watching them from the corner of the room, stood and plodded toward the kitchen, rubbing his big body against Kelly’s legs as he went.
 
It was enough to break the spell between them.

“It’s late.
 
I should go.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You’ve changed out of your wet clothes, I haven’t.
 
Plus I have an early morning tomorrow.
 
I’ve scheduled a shelving installation for an important client and he won’t like it if I’m late.
 
I’ve told him multiple times that I pride myself on my professionalism.”

Once again, he was awed by Kelly’s ability to make him smile.
 
“I’m sure he finds you every bit the professional.
 
Nevertheless, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your reputation.
 
I’ll walk you out.”

Even if all he wanted to do was kiss her again and again and again, both of their reputations be damned.
 

He strode to the entrance of his apartment without allowing himself to meet her eyes or let his gaze fall to her luscious mouth.
 
Because if he did, he’d use every means at his disposal to convince her to stay.

“Wait.
 
Before I go, there’s something else.”
 

Massimo’s hand froze on the door handle when Kelly said it.
 
For a heady moment, he thought she couldn’t leave without kissing him again.
 
That one kiss would turn into more, then they’d end up making mad, passionate love the way they had in the villa, though hopefully without knocking the mattress off the bed this time.

Instead, she spun on her heel and strode to the antique writing desk in the corner of the room without looking at him.
 

“I completely forgot, but when I went outside to check on you, I also meant to show you something back here in the apartment.”

Given that she had the desk drawer open, it apparently wasn’t the bed.
 
“What?”

“This.”
 
She closed the drawer, crossed the distance between them, and pressed a soft fabric bag with lumpy contents into his palm.
 
“Have you seen it before?”

He immediately recognized the brilliant blue velvet as the type used by Conti & Fancetti, a jewelry company patronized by the royal family for generations.
 
It was the same jeweler who’d designed his parents’ wedding rings and his mother’s emerald anniversary ring.
 
The white silk tie at the bag’s neck was crimped, as if it had been knotted for a long time, and a few stray threads drew his attention to a hole in the bag’s bottom seam.
 
Slowly, he undid the top.
 
What he’d expected to see inside, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t the piece he withdrew.

“Stunning, isn’t it?
 
I’ve never seen anything like it.”
 
Kelly’s words were whispered, as if they stood in a museum ogling a one-of-a-kind painting or sculpture under the watchful eye of an armed guard.
 
The diamond and sapphire creation he held merited that kind of reverence.

“Nor have I.”
 
He turned the necklace over, studied the setting, then spread it between his fingers for a better look.
 
It was one of the most breathtaking he’d seen, and he’d seen plenty.
 
“Where in the world did you find this?”

“Your bureau.
 
April and I moved it into the closet earlier this evening.
 
After she left, I discovered a hidden compartment behind one of the drawers.”
 
She gestured toward the bedroom.
 
“Here, let me show you.”

He followed her through the bedroom, giving only a slight thought to the bed or the fact he’d kissed her here only a few minutes before, then to the closet.
 
When Kelly entered in front of him and flicked the button on a work light hanging from the side of a ladder, he realized that he hadn’t seen the room since work began.
 
The old curtain rods and dresser were gone, the boxes sorted through and removed.
 
The high window, which had been partially blocked by stacked boxes, was now fully visible and clean, and its trim had been repaired and painted.
 
A gray drop cloth protected the floor and a coat of primer covered the walls, which had been carefully smoothed to eliminate age-old holes and imperfections.
 
Pencil marks indicated planned locations for electrical outlets and shelving.
 
Above him, the old ceiling light was gone and the plaster repaired, leaving only a small hole from which updated wiring now protruded.
 
As with the walls, a pencil outline indicated the positioning for a new light.
 
The most eye-catching part of the room, however, was the massive bureau, which dominated the wall opposite the door.
 

“The room’s not in a state to be seen,” she warned him.
 
“In a few days, though, prepare to be wowed.”

“I’m wowed already.”

With her back to him, she knelt in front of the bureau and pulled on the next-to-bottom drawer.
 
“Come on in.
 
I want to show you this panel.”

He started at her words.
 
One by one, he unloosed his fingers from where he’d unknowingly wrapped them around the frame to the closet’s pocket door, then took two steps into the room.
 

“Massimo?”
 
She was squinting at him now.
 
“Is there a problem?”