Contracted to the Italian Prince - Page 18

Nicolo leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers against his lips. “As I told you, I’ve had some business to attend to.”

It was hard not to smirk. “Oh, yes, I can imagine.”

“Can you? It has not been easy, Caroline, fulfilling all my commitments while staying close to the Princess’s side.”

Caroline smiled sweetly. “Indeed.”

Nicolo pushed back from the table and got to his feet. “What would you say if I told you I must go away for a week? For ten days, perhaps? I would phone twice a day, and, of course, I would leave you a complete itinerary where I could be reached if you needed me.” He frowned. “Would you feel comfortable alone here with la Principessa?”

“Alone? With Signora Brescia living in? With the cook, the gardener, the housekeeper and the maid in the other wing? With the doctor paying daily visits?”

His frown became a smile. “You will not miss me, then?”

“In a word, no.”

If she’d hoped to insult him, she didn’t succeed. Nicolo only laughed.

“I cannot get used to it, Caroline. That such a beautiful woman should have a tongue dipped in acid still comes as a shock.”

“What still comes as a shock,” she said with a toss of her head, “is that I’m impervious to your charm.”

It had been a stupid thing to say. She knew it as soon as the words left her mouth. Caroline smiled crookedly as he came slowly toward her; her heart leaped into her throat but she stood her ground.

“A challenge, cara?” he said softly.

“Not at all. A statement of fact.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and then he reached out and slid his hand under her hair, around the nape of her neck. When he spoke, his voice was very low.

“You know that there is unfinished business between us, Caroline.”

The same sort of “business” that was taking him away for ten days. Caroline’s mouth tightened.

“The only business between us is our agreement regarding my role as companion to your grandmother.”

Nicolo smiled. “I know I am right,” he said softly. The pressure of his hand increased as he moved nearer to her, so that she had no choice but to let him tip her face up to his. “There is a flame burning within you. That glacial exterior only makes a man the more eager to find it.”

They were close, so close, separated only by a breath…

“I seem to recall you telling me you took no pleasure in a woman’s coldness,” she said with more assurance than she felt.

His thumb stroked across her cheek. “Perhaps you are not as cold as you seem, cara.”

“Here’s an American expression you can add to your collection, Nicolo. What you see is what you get.”

He laughed, bent his head, and brushed his mouth lightly against hers. The touch of it electrified her, but she gave no sign.

“Why do I know instinctively that that does not mean that you are willing to admit you burn for me, cara?”

Her eyes met his. “Because you know that I don’t.”

“What I know,” he said, touching his lips to her hair, “is that you won’t admit it.” His other hand came up and cupped her cheek, so that her face was offered up to his. “But you do burn, carina,” he whispered. “I see the flame in your eyes.”

Caroline’s heart was racing, but then, why wouldn’t it? The man was an accomplished seducer, there was no doubt about it. Even she, who’d been propositioned by experts, had to admit that. His technique was extraordinary, but not extraordinary enough to make her forget reality.

“What you see,” she said with a careless smile, “are tears of boredom. This conversation has—”

She never finished the taunting rejoiner. Nicolo’s mouth captured hers in a slow, insolent kiss. When he let go of her, she fell back against the sideboard, clutching it for support, fighting for enough composure that she could make some clever response that would make clear that the kiss had not disturbed her in the least.

But he did not give her the opportunity.

“I will see you in ten days, cara,” he said softly. “And then we will decide which of us is right.”

She’d got her voice back too late to answer, she thought now as she remembered the incident. Otherwise, she’d have gone after him, told him it wasn’t a matter of right or wrong, it was a matter of when he’d admit he was an arrogant, overbearing liar.

She, burn for him? Ridiculous! It was Nicolo who was obsessed, so obsessed that he’d insisted his only reason for urging her to give up her job and stay here was so she could help his grandmother get well.

It was just too bad she’d been fool enough to believe him.

Caroline’s mouth tightened as she made her way past the library, where a copy of his itinerary lay propped beside the telephone. Why he was so intent on seducing her was beyond her comprehension. God knew he had enough “business” to keep him occupied. He’d spent the last few days bouncing from resort to resort. A tennis club in Spain. A yachting club on the Italian coast. A holiday condominium on the Riviera.

Oh, yes, she thought as she stabbed her sunglasses onto her nose, then flung open the doors that led to the garden, Nicolo Sabatini was catching up on his business, all right. No wonder he’d been so eager to sign her on as Anna’s companion. He loved the old woman, Caroline admitted grudgingly. But he was also a healthy adult male with an appetite for life, an appetite he was accustomed to feeding, and he’d been hungry for too long. With her here to keep la Principessa happy, he could slip the leash and enjoy himself a bit—and if he could seduce her into his bed in between times, so much the better.

She paused when she reached Anna, and a smile softened her face. The Princess was still asleep on her chaise longue, tucked beneath a mohair throw. With a little sigh, Caroline settled into a chair opposite and put her head back.

How peaceful it was here. Outside the high stone walls that encircled the garden, tourists marched the cobbled streets, fought their way through the crowds to see Rome’s fabled attractions. But Caroline thought there were enough attractions here, in this quiet place, to last a lifetime. Cypresses grew alongside the walls. Crushed stone paths wound through the beds of early spring flowers to the garden’s heart, where a fierce bronze wolf stood guard over an almost magical fountain, water cascading from its mouth into a reflecting pool with a soft, musical murmur. It was the only sound Caroline could hear on this unusually warm afternoon.

“The heat is nothing like it will be during the summer,” Anna had warned that morning.

But it was enough to make all the garden’s inhabitants drowsy, Caroline thought, yawning. She stretched out her legs, bare beneath a white cotton skirt, opened the first few buttons of her blouse, and fanned herself lightly. Even the pair of plumed cockatoos that normally chattered away at each other in their wrought-iron enclosure were asleep on their perches.

The Princess stirred and murmured something in her sleep. Caroline leaned forward and took her hand.

“Anna?” she said softly. “Are you having a bad dream?”

The old woman sighed as she opened her eyes. “Have I been asleep long?”

Caroline shook her head. “No, not at all. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I have in a long time.” Anna smiled again. “Better than an old woman has a right to feel.”

“You’re not old,” Caroline said, patting Anna’s hand.

“Of course I am! But I don’t feel it, thanks to you. I was right when I said having you here would do more for me than all the medicines in the world.” Her fingers tightened on Caroline’s. “I am so happy you like it here, child.”

“Who wouldn’t like it here?” Caroline said gently.

The old woman shrugged expressively. “Some young women might find the life we live here unexciting. You do not miss—how do you say it?—la dolce vita?”

Caroline laughed. “Rome isn’t exactly the sticks.”

“Ah, but you have seen nothing of our city.

” Anna smiled. “We will change all that when Nicolo returns.”

“That’s all right,” Caroline said, carefully. “I mean, I’m sure the city’s beautiful, but—”

“It is unfortunate he had to leave so soon after your arrival.”

It wasn’t unfortunate at all. On the contrary. It was wonderful. It would be even more wonderful if he called and said he was staying away another week.

“My poor Nico. He works so hard, but what can he do?” Anna yawned. Her voice grew soft and drowsy. “It is not easy, to bear the responsibilities of the Sabatini name…”

The old woman’s eyelids drooped, and she began snoring gently. After a bit, Caroline sighed, took off her sunglasses, and closed her eyes, too. Oh, yes, she thought, poor, poor Nicolo. He’d be on the Riviera by now, bearing all those heavy Sabatini responsibilities. So many restaurants to dine at. So many yachts to sail.

So many women to make love to.

Caroline’s breath caught. In her mind’s eye, she could see him walking out of the velvet sea, the sunlight golden on his skin.

No. No, it would be night, with a full moon casting an ivory pathway over the beach, a pathway leading Nicolo to a woman who stepped from the shadows and held out her arms. He’d go to her, gather her to him so that she felt the hardness of him against her.

“Cara.” he’d whisper, and the woman would rise on her toes, clasp his face in her hands, and press her mouth to his.

“Nico,” she’d sigh, as he drew her down to the sand, “my Nico.”

“Caroline?”

Caroline’s throat tightened. Yes. That was how he’d say her name, making it into something musical and wonderful, making it—

Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance
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