Without meaning to, she remembered lying beneath him, feeling his body moving inside hers. It had all been so new to her, and yet he’d been tender and reassuring. He’d made her feel special, cherished.
Now, the memory seemed like a distant illusion, made all the more so by his lack of awareness of it.
She dropped her gaze, unable to maintain the contact. His eyes were unusual in their coloring, pale and striking, but that wasn’t the precise reason she couldn’t look at him.
No, she couldn’t look because it made her heartsick for her child. She hadn’t realized it until she was face-to-face with the prince again, but Danny was the exact image of his father.
“I am afraid that is impossible.”
Her head snapped up, her eyes beginning to tear again. No. She had to be strong. “I—I have to get home. I have responsibilities. People need me.”
Prince Nico’s gaze sharpened. “What people, signorina?”
Lily’s stomach hollowed with fear. She couldn’t tell him about Danny, not now. Not like this. “My family needs me. My mother depends on me.” She hadn’t seen her mother in over a year, but he didn’t know that.
He studied her, his quick gaze sweeping over her with interest. And something more. Her nerve endings prickled.
“No husband, Lily?”
His use of her name was like the subtle caress of his fingers against her skin: shocking, unexpected and delicious. At first she thought he must recognize her, must remember her name after all—though he’d called her Liliana in their time together. But nothing in his demeanor indicated he had. He’d gotten it from the police. Of course.
She felt like a fool for thinking otherwise. But why was he here? Did a prince really come to the prison when someone was accused of theft? She felt as though she was missing a piece of the puzzle, as though there was something she should know, but she couldn’t quite grasp what it was.
“No, no husband,” she said. She couldn’t mention Danny, she simply couldn’t. Fear for her baby threatened to overwhelm her. If Nico knew he had a son, would he take her baby away from her? He certainly had the power and the money to do so.
She pressed closer to the bars, beseeching him, pouring every ounce of feeling she had into her words. “Please, Ni—Your Highness,” she corrected, thinking better of calling him by name. “Please help me.”
She thought he looked puzzled, but it was gone so fast she couldn’t be sure.
“How is it you expect me to help you?”
Lily swallowed the hard knot in her throat. Could she confess just a little bit? Would she endanger her baby by doing so? Or was she endangering him by not speaking? What if she never got out of here? Would Carla raise Danny as her own? “W-we met once. In New Orleans two years ago. You were kind to me then.”
If she expected awareness to cross his features, she was disappointed. He remained distant, detached.
“I am always kind to women.” His voice was as smooth and rich as chocolate. And as cool as an Alpine lake.
Heat rushed to Lily’s face. How could she stand here and have this conversation with him, with the man who’d fathered her child and didn’t even know it? She’d been right about him, right not to persist in her efforts to track him down once she’d learned he was so much more than an ordinary man named Nico Cavelli.
She still remembered the shock of finding out who he really was, the endless parade of photos and sensational tabloid articles once she’d discovered his identity. Prince Nico of Montebianco was nothing more than a playboy, a jet-setter on a global scale who’d once gone slumming in New Orleans. He did not remember her, did not care about her, and certainly wouldn’t care about Danny.
Just as her father hadn’t cared about her or her mother. Of all the men in this world, how had she chosen this one to initiate her into the ways of intimacy between a man and a woman? It was mind-boggling how ignorant she’d been, how duped she’d been by his charm and sincerity. He hadn’t exactly lied about who he was, but he hadn’t told the truth, either. She’d known his name and where he was from, but she hadn’t known he was a prince until later.
Once he’d gotten what he wanted from her, he’d abandoned her to her fate. She’d stood in the rain for over two hours that last night, waiting for him. He’d promised he would be there, but he never showed.
God, he made her sick.
Before she could gather her thoughts to speak, to think of another method of approach, he whipped something from his shirt pocket and thrust it toward her. Gone was the cool facade. In its place was a wrath so deep it would have frightened her had there been no bars between them.
“What is the meaning of this? Who is this child?”
Lily’s heart squeezed. She shoved her hand between the bars, tried to reach the picture of her and Danny, but the prince snatched it away. A sob tore from her throat before she could stop it. They’d gone through her things, dismantled her suitcases as if she was a common thief and passed her possessions around for comment. Worst of all—he knew her secret!
“Who is he?” the prince demanded again.
“That’s my baby! Give me that,” she cried, clawing between the bars. “It’s mine!”
He looked furious. And a little bit stunned, if that were possible. But he recovered quickly. “I don’t know what you think will happen now that I’ve seen this, but it will not work, signorina. This is a cheap attempt to blackmail me, and I will not bow to it.” His voice dripped menace.
Lily stopped struggling and stared at him, her head buzzing with emotion. “Blackmail you? Why would I do that? I want nothing from you!”
Her mind raced. Nico didn’t know anything for certain. He was only concerned about himself and his money. If she hadn’t been locked up, it might have been a relief in an odd way to have her opinion of him confirmed. She had to make sure he understood that she expected nothing from him. If he didn’t feel threatened, he might help her to leave this place.
Lily closed her eyes, struggled for calm. “All I want is to go home.”
Why had she ever been worried he would take her baby away? He was not the kind of man who would care about his child. He kept many mistresses, and had fathered several children already. She usually avoided the gossip magazines, but the occasional blaring headline about Nico still had the power to attract her attention. She knew, for instance, that he was about to marry.
A pang of feeling sliced into her and she pushed it down deep without examining it. How must his wife-to-be feel about his philandering ways, about the many children with no real father? She had certainly made the right decision not to get in touch with him two years ago. Danny deserved so much better than a father like him, a father who would never be bothered to spend any time getting to know his child. She didn’t want her baby to grow up the way she did, with a wastrel father who only came into her life whenever it suited him—and left it again without concern for the emotional wreckage strewn in his wake.
“What are you doing in Montebianco?” he demanded, his tone distrustful and suspicious. “Why did you come here, if not to try and blackmail me?”
“I was doing research,” she said, her temper flaring. “For a newspaper article. And why would I want to blackmail you?”
“Do not play games with me, signorina.” He tucked the photo back into his pocket. He looked murderous, as if he could order the guard to forget she was down here and throw away the key. A sliver of fear knifed into her; he probably could do such a thing.
“I hope you are comfortable, Lily Morgan, because you are going to spend as much time in this cell as it takes for me to learn the truth.”
“I