Wanton Heat (A Feel the Heat Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (5 page)

His dry response garnered a frown from Catarina.

“Allowing the Kaluna Resort to expand and advertise is savvy business.” She tapped her temple. “You’re a smart boy, Nicci. Do the right thing.”

She paused, her serene gaze beseeching him to listen. “It’s what your parents would’ve wanted.”

A sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. That was a low blow, especially coming from Catarina. She’d been devastated losing Luc’s father to cancer ten years ago, then Greg’s father to complications following routine gall bladder surgery. Dominic’s father had been her eldest and sole surviving son, so when he’d died in that avalanche, Catarina had clung to Dominic, the sole remaining Ricci male—and heir—still living on the island.

They’d grown closer via their sorrow, had talked many nights until dawn when insomnia had plagued them.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew his impulsive engagement to Lilia had been borne of his grief. He’d needed a distraction, needed to feel happy again, and for the short time they’d been together, he had been. But it had been superficial, a brittle joy that quickly evaporated, leaving wariness and suspicion and eventually retribution in its wake.

“My parents didn’t change a thing for as long as I can remember.” He patted his chest. “I’m thirty-one, and not once in all those years did they condone developing these islands as a tourist mecca, let alone anything else.”

Sorrow pinched Catarina’s mouth, and Dominic felt instantly contrite for bringing up what must be a painful topic. “Why do you think that is?”

Confused, he shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

With a heavy sigh, Catarina sank onto the nearest seat, a worn chintz sofa that had once graced his playroom. “Your father was a peacemaker. He maintained the status quo in everything he did. Hated change of any kind. And while he loved these islands, he only stayed because of…”

She clamped her lips shut and darted a nervous glance out the window, like she’d said too much.

“Because of what?” Dominic prompted, feeling like he was on the verge of an important truth but reluctant to hear it for fear it would change everything.

“Forget I said anything—”

“Nonna, tell me.”

She inhaled sharply, worry lines fanning from the corners of her mouth. “Because of you,” she said, so softly it almost came out a whisper. “Your mother wanted to live on the mainland. Rome. Tuscany. Anywhere but here.” She sniffed. “But my Franco wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted his son to have a chance to know his heritage. To have the choice to know these islands like he did, if that’s what you wanted.”

A lone tear seeped from the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek, but it didn’t dampen the determination in her defiant stare. “Franco didn’t change anything, because he loved this place.” She pointed at him. “But he loved something else more. You.”

That pain earlier? Blossomed into a diffuse ache that pressed against Dominic’s chest like he was having a heart attack.

All this time, he’d assumed his father had been a homebody because he loved these islands so much. But Dominic had been the one tying his dad to this place. He’d been the one holding his parents back from moving away

What he’d just learned? Cemented his resolve.

If his father had gone to such great lengths to give him the opportunity to love these islands, the least Dom could do was preserve them in honor of his father’s memory.

“I didn’t know,” he said, crossing the room to sit beside her and grasp her hand. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t see the point ’til now.” She squeezed his hand in return. “You need to make your own decisions, Nicci. Based on what
you
want, not what you think your father would’ve wanted.”

Nonna was right. But couldn’t she see what she’d told him made him feel more indebted to his father than ever?

There was no way he could approve the Kaluna Resort worldwide ad campaign, now more than ever. But he’d promised Catarina to consider what they had to offer, and she could out-stubborn him, so unless he went through with this farcical charade of listening to the rest of Zoe’s pitch, she’d make his life hell.

“You should take Zoe to Ancora. Let her finish her proposal. Then make an objective decision.”

Great, just what he needed, to take that upstart to his favorite place in the world. He knew she’d need to see it at some stage but had planned to fob her off onto a guide. But now he realized he’d need to hear the rest of her ideas to ensure he could refuse with a clean slate.

The e-mails the developer had sent hadn’t inspired him with confidence, so he was glad he now had a PI digging into Kai Kaluna’s business plans. With a little luck, he’d get some concrete evidence to back up his stance in ultimately refusing Zoe Keaton.

Catarina continued. “If you hear her pitch on the island, see what she has planned firsthand, maybe you’ll be more open-minded when it comes to moving ahead?”

As if. The part where an instant image of Zoe on Ancora in a miniscule caramel bikini, the same color as her eyes, popped into his head? Not helping.

She better not pack a frigging bathing suit.

“Okay, I’ll take her over later.”

He didn’t understand Catarina’s triumphant grin. “Good boy. You should head down to the docks, clear your head, make sure the boat’s ready.”

“Maybe I should apologize to Zoe first?”

He’d acted like a prize ass, and knowing the confident woman, she probably wouldn’t let him forget it.

“I’ll find her and let her know what you intend to do. Probably best you give her some time to forgive your rudeness?”

Dominic managed a wry grin as he kissed his grandmother on the cheek. “How did you get so wise?”

“When you live through as many long, hot Osturo summers as I have, you get to know a thing or two.” She patted his cheek. “Now go get organized for your trip to Ancora.”

Dominic needed no encouragement to head to his favorite place in the world. Having Zoe along for the ride? Challenging at best. At worst? The two of them alone at the secluded royal enclave on the island…sparring and annoying each other and causing some serious fireworks.

Damn it, he didn’t want to be attracted to her. She was only here for one thing: to get the go-ahead on her proposed ad campaign. One of the many countless people over the years who wanted something from him. He should be used to it. He’d honed his instincts to read people over the years, unsurprised to discover most who hung around him did it only because they had an agenda.

So what was it about Zoe that crept under his guard a little?

He knew she was only here for business, so why couldn’t he stop thinking about mixing it with pleasure?

He could take the heat, could take whatever she dished out.

But was she ready to accept the consequences of playing with fire?

Chapter Three

Zoe had a bad feeling about this.

Agreeing to Catarina’s madcap scheme to kidnap Dominic had sounded crazy at the time, but now that she was on the boat, lying in wait for the unsuspecting prince, it seemed a thousand times nuttier.

Luckily, her dad had been an accomplished sailor, so she knew how to handle a boat courtesy of their frequent trips to San Diego. While the prince’s seemed sleeker and faster than anything she’d operated before, she’d taken a crash course with the captain, who was n
ow firmly ensconced in the harbor cafeteria, a small five-table room that catered to weary travelers in need of quick sustenance. Catarina had rung ahead and advised they didn’t need his services for this trip. She’d thought of everything.

Except one thing.

Big, bad, brave Zoe was having a distinct case of cold feet.

She eyed her overnight bag tucked under a highly polished mahogany table in the hold below. If she grabbed it now, she’d still have time to make a run for it…

A footfall sounded on the deck, and she peeked out from her hiding spot starboard.

Dominic.

He stood aft, silhouetted against the darkening sky, staring into the distance. He’d changed out of his suit and now wore knee-length khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, and docksiders. The way that polo molded to his torso and the shorts to his butt…maybe spiriting him away to a secluded island wasn’t so crazy after all.

Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to loosen the moorings, so all she had to do was slip the last rope off. Barefoot, she silently padded to the bow, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. She’d lost sight of Dominic now so had to work fast. She leaned over, unhooked the last rope, and sidled backward. Her heart pounded in her ears as she slipped behind the controls. Her hands shook as she followed the start-up routine the captain had shown her, and she blinked sweat out of her eyes.

This was categorically the craziest thing she’d ever done.

The engine started with a roar the first time, and she let out an exultant whoop. Footsteps thundered behind her, the sound of loud cursing in Italian reaching her ears a second before Dominic entered the driver’s cabin.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Who would’ve thought royalty swears like a sailor?” With a jaunty salute, she maneuvered the boat and it shot off, earning another round of vociferous swearing from Dominic.

“Are you insane?” He sat next to her, alternating between staring at her in shock and absolute terror as she handled the controls like a pro. “Can you even operate this thing?”

“With my eyes closed.” She demonstrated by doing just that, and the boat jolted a little.

“Move over.”

She bristled at his command. “You didn’t say please.”

It made more sense for him to man the controls, but she wouldn’t put up with his arrogance. Even if the water’s reflection in his mesmerizing eyes made them impossibly bluer.

“Move, or I’ll call the coast guard and have you arrested for stealing.”

“Don’t forget kidnapping.” She snapped her fingers. “Because that’s what I’ve done, you know. Kidnapped you.”

“I thought you were yet another leech out for whatever you can get from me, but isn’t this taking things to extremes?” He glowered. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’ll find out when we get to Ancora.” She pointed at the radar. “That’s where we’re going, by the way, in case you were wondering.”

“You’re not supposed to tell your captive what you have planned.” His surliness eased as the corners of his mouth curved into a semi-smile. “Pity, though.”

Startled by his abrupt change in mood, she said, “What’s a pity?”

“For a moment, I thought you might’ve kidnapped me so you could have your wicked way with me.”

“You wish,” she muttered, annoyed by heat flushing her cheeks in a dead giveaway of exactly how wicked she’d like to get with the hot prince.

“I wish for a lot of things,
cara
.” He leaned closer, and her fingers clenched the steering wheel.

“Like world peace?” She stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice his proximity. Damn, she could smell him again, a tantalizing mix of sea air and sexy male.

“Like a better life for the people on these islands. Like financial security for the region.” His breath fanned her ear. “Like a woman to be stranded on Ancora with…”

Oh, boy. Looked like His Highness was about to get his wish.

“To be my sex slave,” he added, and this time her hands did slip off the wheel.

“Shit,” she muttered, and he laughed.

This time, when he said move over, she obeyed, changing seats with him in a hurry.

“So how about it?”

He cast her a playful look she couldn’t fathom, and while Zoe would have liked nothing better than to flirt back, she had to convince this moody man that her ad campaign was a winner. With a bit of luck, she could do that this afternoon, and they might have time to play, waiting out the storm before heading back to Osturo. Sounded like a plan.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” she said, tilting her nose in the air. “This kidnapping is for business purposes only. I need you to hear me out and not behave like a big baby by walking out, so here we are.”

He chuckled at her haughtiness. “You could’ve just asked. I was planning on taking you to Ancora this afternoon anyway.” His smile faded. “After I apologized, that is.”

Who knew? His Haughtiness did have a soul.

“I’m listening,” she said, finally relaxing into her seat now that she knew he wasn’t super pissed at her for kidnapping him, and he wasn’t going to throw her overboard.

“I’m sorry for walking out on you,” he said, sounding suitably sincere. “It was unprofessional.”

“And childish,” she said, unable to resist baiting him a little. “And incredibly sulky. Bet you were the kid who threw a tantrum when the silver spoon was ripped from his mouth—”

“Shut up.” He took his eyes off the water for a moment to stare at her lips, and she could’ve sworn her gloss evaporated clear off. “You should put that mouth to better use.”

Stunned by his innuendo, Zoe didn’t say a word.

He smirked at her speechlessness and refocused on the water. “This kidnapping caper isn’t so bad after all.”

She begged to differ.

…

As the boat cut through the water toward Ancora, Dominic felt some of the residual tension he wore like a coat these days dissipate.

When was the last time he’d headed out here, let alone taken the boat for a spin?

It used to be one of his favorite relaxation methods, to leave everything behind and spend a few days in solitude.

If the rooftop conservatory in the castle had been his go-to place as a kid, Ancora assumed that honor when he hit his teens. He didn’t bring many people out here, and certainly not any of his dates. It spoke volumes that Lilia hadn’t seen the island either. She hadn’t been interested, spending most of her time jetting from Rome to Milan to Venice, overseeing the fashion buyers for her parents’ couture house. When they caught up, it was usually in Rome, where he indulged her passion for dining in fine restaurants, theater, and shopping. Sadly that passion hadn’t extended to all areas of her life.

He hadn’t minded at the time, content to lose himself in a relationship that brought stability and warmth to his life at a time he needed it most. Lilia’s enthusiasm had thawed his frozen heart following his parents’ death. She’d resuscitated him.

Only to plunge him back into despair when she died a year later in a horrific head-on collision. While in the car of a developer who wasn’t averse to trying any tactic to get him to sell Osturo land, apparently.

Dominic never knew if Lilia had been unfaithful or if she was just plain greedy, hell-bent on getting him to agree to anything, including pillage the island he called home. But he’d seen the evidence of her treachery when he’d cleared out his things from her apartment in Rome and had discovered irrefutable proof—copies of soil reports, zoning permits, and all the land deeds he owned on Osturo—that his trust had been violated.

Never again.

Mulling that awful time made him pull out his cell to check his e-mails. With a little luck he’d have some more info from the PI. Info he could use to help send his kidnapper back to the mainland once and for all.

He quickly scrolled through his in-box. Nada from the investigator. So he fired off another e-mail asking to be kept informed of any developments ASAP before sliding the phone back into his pocket.

He needed to be prepared. Needed to prevent being taken for a fool again.

He’d shut himself off from everyone the last few years. He heard the rumors: distraught prince loses parents and fiancée, becomes a heartbroken recluse who was letting his royal municipality rot.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

He’d grieved for his parents, had dealt with Lilia’s betrayal and death, but his heart was far from broken. He’d just learned to protect it better. As for letting Osturo and Ancora rot, there was a difference between protecting what was his, bestowed upon him by his father, and carving it up for the almighty euro.

“Are we nearly there yet?”

He glanced at the woman by his side, struck anew by her beauty. Zoe had swapped her pin-striped suit for a sassy sunflower-yellow summer dress with thin straps, a fitted bodice that outlined her generous breasts to perfection, and a flirty skirt that ended at her knees.

She looked bright and sunny and delectable. And in that moment, it hit him: how long since he’d enjoyed the pleasure of a woman, of being with a woman, for no other reason than to flirt and seduce.

He would love to do both with this intriguing woman. But he couldn’t. She wanted something from him, something he couldn’t give.

He’d hear her out, then send her on her way. After a little harmless flirtation…

“Eager to get me alone?” He touched her hand, a fingertip brushing her knuckle in a featherlight caress that elicited a slight tremor. Oh, yeah, she was just as aware of him physically as he was of her. He bet they’d be combustible together. Shame he’d never find out.

“Eager to have your full attention,” she said, sliding her hand away to clasp it with the other in her lap.

“You already have that.” His lips eased into a smile, and it felt good. He didn’t smile much these days. Then he realized he was grinning like a fool at the enemy, and he clamped his lips tight.

She rolled her eyes. “For my presentation.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” he said, expressing silent gratitude to the weather gods when a gust of wind ruffled the hem of her skirt, flipping it to mid-thigh.

“I’ll make you listen to me this time if it kills me,” she muttered, smoothing her skirt. “Hopefully you’ll be less grumpy and more cheerful on Ancora.”

“Do I look like I’m grumpy?” He winked, enjoying the suspicious glare she shot him. Meant he had her off-kilter. Good. Because that’s the way he’d been feeling ever since he met her prowling the castle grounds. “Considering you kidnapped me, I’d say I’m handling the situation admirably.”

“Yeah, you’re a real prince,” she said, the corners of her lush mouth twitching.

“You know that’s an empty title, right?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the hold. “I bet you’ve got a ton of research notes on me in that bag of yours.”

“Most people in the twenty-first century research on the
In-ter-net
,” she said. “You know, that online thing that has search engines designed to find out every nitty-gritty detail about people’s lives.”

He grinned at her sarcasm. “Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong, using those coconut-and-string phones.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What did you mean, being the prince is an empty title?”

“Guess your trusty Internet didn’t tell you everything.”

“Just tell me already,” she said, her audible exasperation tempered with curiosity.

“Okay.” He steered the boat by rote, though a quick glance at the radar showed a fast-moving front heading their way. He’d have to make their tour of the island quick. “But to answer your first question, we’re about ten minutes away from Ancora.”

She shot an anxious glance over her shoulder, where storm clouds were rolling in behind them.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be on the island before the storm hits.” He gestured at the darkening sky. “We get these summer storms all the time. They blow in and out, over before you know it.”

By the slight frown creasing her brow, she didn’t believe him. So he distracted her with a topic most people found infinitely interesting. “The world seems fascinated by royalty, but on our islands? The Ricci family is nothing more than a living part of history.”

Interest sparked her eyes, lighting the caramel flecks in a sea of chocolate brown. “So you just use the prince title to win friends and influence poor unsuspecting women?”

He snorted. “The kinds of women wooed by a title aren’t worth pursuing.”

“Voice of experience?”

“Something like that.” He spotted land in the distance, and a jolt of familiar excitement made him clench the wheel. Why hadn’t he done this sooner? Returning to Ancora never failed to make everything seem better. “So do you want to hear our history or not?”

“I guess.”

She sounded like a sulky child as she continued to glance over her shoulder at the storm clouds chasing them.

“There are many principalities throughout Europe with royalty dating back centuries. Titles passed down through generations. My family owns land on Osturo and Ancora but only because the deeds were purchased by my great-grandfather. So technically, we’re responsible for the financial operations. But in modern times? The actual crown and title mean little, other than as a way to impress gullible females.” He threw that last bit in to get a rise out of her, and it worked.