Italian Groom, Princess Bride. Rebecca Winters

to change out of her T-shirt and sweats. A shower was in order first, but he told her not to bother. He’d be waiting for her in the small conference room.

      When he spoke to her like that in what Alexandra teasingly called his monarch’s voice, no one dared argue with him, especially not Regina. Once upon a time she could tease her brother and get away with it, but no longer.

      “I’ll be right there.”

      She ran a brush through her hair before leaving her suite. Too bad she hadn’t worked out in the gym this morning, but there hadn’t been time. For the last two weeks she’d doubled her capacity to get things done in between visits to Pedrosa to be with Nic. As a result she hadn’t been able to fit in the gym until an hour ago. Much as she hated the sticky feeling, her brother’s request had first priority.

      After passing by frescoed walls framed with gilt cornices, she descended the white marble staircase to the main floor with its checkerboard design of white and rose marble. It led to his work area that took up the entire west wing of the palace.

      “Piccina.” Her brother motioned for her to come in and sit by him at the conference table. He had a packet of papers in front of him. It looked like he’d called an emergency meeting and she was the first to arrive.

      “What’s happening?” She took her place at his right side. “Who else is coming?”

      A sound at the entry supplied the answer. Guido. He had the look of a deer caught in the headlights.

      Her head jerked toward her brother, but he was already on his feet to shake the head gardener’s hand and ask him to be seated on his left.

      Before their father’s funeral, their mother had talked about erecting a flowered arbor at the end of the east rose garden. It was their father’s favorite spot on the grounds. Regina was glad Lucca had decided to act on the suggestion. The fact that their mother wasn’t here meant he intended to surprise her.

      “Buona sera, Guido,” she greeted him. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him dressed in anything but a work shirt and trousers. Tonight in a business suit and tie, he looked different. Attractive. Though shorter than Dizo, the resemblance to his oldest son in coloring and facial features was more pronounced. His brothers had inherited more of their mother’s softer traits. At the thought of Dizo she fought to quiet the sob in her throat.

      He nodded. “Principessa.”

      An uncomfortable silence followed. While she was wondering what her brother was waiting for, Dizo suddenly appeared in the doorway.

      A gasp escaped her lips.

      He’d flown all the way from Sardinia to be here? Their gazes collided for a heart-stopping moment. Her hungry eyes fastened on his fiercely handsome face, reminiscent of an ancient Sardinian warrior. A light gray suit covered his tall, masculine physique. He looked absolutely…incredible.

      Too late she realized she was staring and averted her eyes.

      Don’t pass out, Regina. Don’t let him know the kind of power he has over you. Never again.

      “Dizo?” Since when had her brother addressed him by the nickname she’d given him? “Would you mind closing the doors so we can be private?”

      After doing Lucca’s bidding, he sat down next to his father.

      The shock of seeing him like this released a burst of adrenaline. It caused the back of her skull to throb, the sure sign of a headache coming on.

      “I want to thank everyone for being on time. A situation involving the four of us has developed, one I can no longer ignore. At this point it needs to be resolved speedily because we’re running out of time.”

      Lucca reached in the packet and pulled out some photographs. “During the last month before our father’s death, Regina’s pain reached its zenith. Our mother worried over her behavior. Frankly, so did I. To make certain she was all right, I asked her bodyguards to keep a close watch on her and report back if they thought she was in trouble and needed me.”

      Humiliated by the admission, Regina bowed her head.

      “After her unannounced trip to Sardinia in the dead of night, they brought me some pictures they took to give me proof she might be endangering herself.”

      He distributed them around. One of the eight-by-ten black and white glossies showed Regina propping Dizo in the back doorway of the farmhouse. They were fused together in a clinch that practically set fire to the paper.