‘No,’ Meg admitted. “Antoinette, the kitchen hand, did say something, but I thought she was.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘Shouldn’t you be locked away in a palace or something, with bodyguards protecting you?’
‘I should be according to my grandfather—the king,’ he added as Meg blew a breath skywards, the entire conversation so bizarre she couldn’t believe it was taking place. ‘But it is not how I choose to live; I like to work—to run my businesses. Here I get a shot of a normal life.’
‘Normal!’ Meg gave a wry grin. ‘Even before I heard your title, Luca, you didn’t fit into that description.’
‘I have a comfortable life—but I work hard for it. Yes, I can afford many things, and maybe I could just live off my title, but I still take pride in my work, my business ventures—that is why I mainly choose not to use my title, why here I prefer to be called just Luca, though naturally most people know who I am.’
They were at her door now and Meg wished they weren’t, wished somehow she were staying in some remote cottage at the end of a very long beach, instead of a shared room a mere ten minutes away.
She didn’t want the night to end—even though she’d terminated it, now she wanted to prolong it and it had nothing to do with his royal title, more the fascinating man behind it, the man she was starting to glimpse.
‘Thank you,’ Meg said simply.
‘For what?’
‘For coming over when you did. Things could have got out of hand otherwise.’
‘You have to be careful, Meg. Your friend is not much of an escort for you.’
‘I don’t need an escort,’ Meg answered stoutly, but Luca remained unmoved, shaking his head at her proud words.
‘Tonight things could have been very different—I see a lot of things that go on. Buy your own drinks, Meg, and hold onto your glass. Don’t let it out of your sight.’
‘You sound like my father.’ Meg rolled her eyes as she chatted. ‘When I say my father, I mean my adopted father. I had all the lectures before I set off on my trip—’
Her voice halted abruptly; she was stunned at her own words, at how easily she’d revealed a piece of herself to Luca. She’d been with Jasmine for weeks yet she had never revealed this, yet here she was, an hour into Luca’s company, and she was opening up like a flower in the sun with him. But Luca didn’t seem to notice the revelation, just carried on the conversation where she had so hastily left it.
‘I would not like to be your father.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I am sure the man must never rest, worrying about his beautiful daughter.’ He’d called her beautiful and instead of flinching or refusing to take the compliment she absorbed it, even felt a little bit beautiful. Luca stared thoughtfully back at her. ‘You’re not going to come tomorrow?’ When she shook her head he pushed for a reason. ‘Can I ask why?’
She paused for a moment before answering, wondered how on earth she could explain that, though she wanted to, though she was more attracted to him than she’d ever been to anyone, it was just too dangerous, too damned scary to let him into her life. ‘I don’t want to complicate my life; the reason I’m travelling is that I’m actually trying to sort a few things out….’ Meg answered as honestly as she could without telling him her painful truth. ‘And, somehow, I don’t think spending time with you is going to help me achieve that.’
‘It might.’
‘I doubt it.’ Meg gave a rueful smile. How could a holiday romance with a royal prince possibly help her find the peace she craved? But never had she been more tempted to relent, the rigid self-discipline she usually lived by treacherously displaced by his presence. ‘It’s been nice meeting you, Luca.’
‘May I kiss you goodbye?’
She’d been about to shake her head, to refuse his request for a kiss goodnight, but his choice of words had her hesitating. It really was goodbye.
A chance encounter that would never in her life be repeated—men like Luca didn’t come around twice in a lifetime—and Meg bit down on her lip, torn between fear and want, sensing the danger yet lusciously curious.
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ Meg breathed, her hormones weeping in protest as she denied them the goodies that were clearly on offer as her mind scrambled to regain control. ‘Anyway, I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.’ He was watching her mouth as she spoke, as she attempted a joke, attempted to delay the inevitable. ‘We’re supposed to kiss and then you turn into a prince!’
‘For you, maybe there is better.’ His hand was on her cheek, his thumb playing with her lower lip. ‘You deserve better,’ Luca elaborated. ‘Maybe your kiss would make me a king.’
She didn’t know if he was joking, didn’t know if it was just a light-hearted response, and frankly she didn’t care—Luca was as skilled at flirting as he was at manipulating. His mouth was just inches away, teasing her with his breath as he spoke, honing in on her distraction, asking for something only moments ago she wouldn’t have considered.
‘Don’t go to Mont Avellana tomorrow—spend the day with me instead.’
Breathless, dizzy and deliciously disorientated, she struggled with what now seemed a straightforward question, her mind trying to recall the reasons she should decline.
‘The day?’
‘I’ll show you Niroli—and maybe then you’ll decide to stay on for a while, maybe you can find the peace you crave here.’
She opened her mouth to protest, to remind him why she couldn’t stay, but with a few words Luca had made the impossible suddenly feasible. Taking a strand of hair, he brushed it behind her ear, all the while staring into her eyes. ‘We are two very different people but with one constant.’ He didn’t need to elaborate, their arousal, their attraction achingly evident, but Luca broke the contact, stepped back into the hallway and asked her a very pertinent question. ‘Did refusing my kiss give you peace?’
She didn’t say anything but Meg’s answer was obvious, her whole body screaming a protest at Luca’s rapid withdrawal.
‘I will be in the foyer tomorrow at nine.’
He walked away then—Luca’s bid clearly in, leaving it for Meg to decide. He didn’t even offer a backward glance as he walked back along the corridor, leaving Meg jumbled and confused, fumbling in her bag for her keys, then entering her room and sitting on the bed, somehow trying to make sense of all that had occurred.
They couldn’t last.
That much Meg understood.
But they couldn’t end yet either, Meg realised; the attraction was too strong, the emotion too intense to just walk away.
Pulling out her purse, Meg slid her fingers into the wallet and pulled out a well-worn picture, one she hadn’t looked at in weeks, but occasionally, at times like this, when decisions needed to be made, it was called upon. Even though she’d seen it a thousand times, even though she’d lived it, still the image shocked her.
Pained eyes in a gaunt face stared back at Meg, her skeletal frame engulfed by a wheelchair, a nurse at her side holding her hand as she struggled to come up from her lowest point.
There were a million reasons to set her alarm for six and get the hell out of Niroli, to organise her backpack and literally run for the