Читать книгу Italian Prince, Wedlocked Wife - Дженни Лукас, Jennie Lucas - Страница 10

CHAPTER FIVE

LUCY looked up from the folder to the handsome prince in front of her. “What are you talking about?” she croaked. “Married? To you?”

“Correct.”

“I don’t even know you!”

His sensual lips curved. “An excellent start for marriage.”

“You said you’d never settle down with one woman—and you want to marry me?”

“Sì.”

“But why?”

“Let’s start with why you’d want to marry me,” he said smoothly. “My palatial homes all over the world. My vast fortune. You can buy whatever you want without question. You will never need to work again. You will travel in the most exclusive circles of society. Your daughter will go to the best schools.” He took a step toward her. “And then there’s the title.”

“The title?” she repeated faintly, aware of how close he was to her.

He stroked a dark tendril of her hair, still wet from when he’d crushed her into the snow. “Wherever you go, for the rest of your life, you will be accepted and admired. As my princess. My bride,” he said. “The Principessa Lucia d’Aquilla.”

Lucy—a princess?

Suddenly alcohol seemed like a terrific idea. Snatching up her champagne flute, she drank it all down in a gulp. The expensive bubbles might really have been soda for all she noticed. But when she was finished, her mouth was still dry. She licked her lips, then felt his searing blue gaze. She looked up.

His hot glance plundered her mouth. As if he’d seized her, kissed her, possessed her by force of his will. She was suddenly aware of her every breath—and his.

“But people don’t get married for money,” she whispered. “They do it because they care about each other…”

“Oh, do they?” He ran his hands on her shoulders, tracing upward with a finger along her neck to her jawline. He gently lifted her chin. He looked at her slowly, as if assessing the shape of her face beneath her glasses and messy hair, analyzing the shape of her body beneath her clothes. Finally he met her eyes.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said abruptly. “Perhaps this will be for more than money. Perhaps I will take you to my bed.”

“You what?”

He smiled, a cruelly sensual smile. “This will be even more enjoyable than I thought. I will make you feel as you’ve never felt before. Make you moan and gasp with pleasure until you forget your own name.”

She closed her eyes. She knew he could do it. Just hearing him threaten to seduce her, feeling his touch against her skin, was nearly enough to make her forget her name already.

“Would you like that?” His lips brushed against the tender flesh of her ear. “Would you like, at last, to feel the sensations you’ve only read about in books?”

A quiet shiver rocked her from her toes.

Startled, she looked up at him. His expression was arrogant. Knowing. As if he could read into her very soul. As if he somehow knew that her only lover had left her deeply unsatisfied.

“But you said—you said you didn’t want me,” she stammered. “You said I’m not your type.”

“I see now that I was wrong.” He gently stroked down her neck with his forefinger and his thumb. “You have your own beauty, different from any I’ve seen before. There is no reason not to enjoy our short marriage. I can show you what love is truly like—show you how passionate love can be.”

Her heart turned over. “Love?”

“Marry me, and your feet will barely touch the ground.”

Oh. That kind of love. Of course, what else could he mean? A playboy like Prince Maximo d’Aquilla would not get emotionally entangled in relationships. He had too many of them.

“But you said you’d never settle down,” she whispered. “So why now, Maximo? Why me?”

“You think little of yourself.” He ran his hands down her arms, from her neck to her bare wrists. “You do not know your own worth, Lucia.”

Lucia. Every time he called her that it was a caress, making her feel exotic, beautiful, desired. She loved the feeling—almost as much as she feared it…

She took a deep breath.

If a handsome man seems too good to be true, she repeated to herself fiercely, he’s lying.

So why was he trying to make her believe he desired her?

Because he thought she’d refused his proposal.

The realization gave her the strength to pull away. Narrowing her eyes, she raised her chin.

“You’re not proposing marriage because you think I’m beautiful,” she said evenly. She held up the prenup with a loud rattle of paper. “You had your lawyers working on this for hours. Stop trying to seduce me. I’m not one of those simpering women to melt at your command. Tell me why you want to marry me. Whom will it hurt? And how?”

“Cara—” He moved toward her, palms up in a gesture of supplication.

“No!” She moved backward, unwilling to let him touch her. “Don’t you ‘cara’ me. I want cold, hard facts!”

His expression changed.

And suddenly, he laughed aloud.

“Bravo, signorina,” he said with a satisfied clap of his hands. “You are the first woman to resist me since I was fifteen years old. Bravo.” He gave her a nod. “I respect your intelligence.”

She flushed, feeling unaccountably pleased by his praise.

“And as you’ve left me no choice…” He took the file from her, opening it on a nearby table. “Here are your cold, hard facts. Our marriage will last approximately three months. I will allow you to spend my fortune as if it were your own. In return, I will have complete control and management of all your current and future assets.” He paused, looking up to search her gaze. “Do you find that unfair?”

She said with a bitter laugh, “My only asset is a beat-up old Honda that barely runs. If you want to try to manage that, be my guest.”

“At the end of our marriage, I will be required to pay you full market value for anything I keep.” He quickly turned to another page. “And in addition, I will recompense you with a settlement of ten million dollars for each month of our marriage.”

She stared at him, unable to comprehend the words.

“Thirty…million…dollars?” she choked.

“Sì.”

Lucy closed her eyes. She would never have to work again. She could spend her days playing with her baby. Chloe would have the best of everything. The best schools. Brand-new toys. Brand-new clothes. Ballet lessons. Italian lessons. Tuba lessons. Anything and everything. They could have the snug, warm little house she’d always dreamed of. She could turn the heat up as high as she wished. They could pick the biggest Christmas tree on the lot. Chloe could have pony rides—no, a whole stable of thoroughbreds. World cruises. Tuition to Harvard. Anything and everything.

She tried to be calm, but her hands were shaking.

“Wh-what would you expect me to do for that?”

“I would expect you to appear to be my devoted wife in every way. To honor and obey.”

She licked her dry lips. “To do something illegal?”

“No.”

“Immoral?”

“That is in the eye of the beholder. It would be a marriage of convenience. A few moments ago, you found that distasteful. Do you still?”

She was suddenly willing to reconsider. “Just three months?”

“That is my guess.” His blue eyes became grim. “I’m waiting for a man to die—a man you don’t know.”

That brought her up short. “Oh.”

“He is old and ill. Once he is dead, we will divorce. And you will be wealthier than your wildest dreams.”

“Still.” She swallowed. “It’s a bit ghoulish, isn’t it—waiting for someone to die?”

“We all die sometime, cara.”

“That’s…true.” Biting her lip, she paced the bedroom, then turned with a sudden intake of breath. “You will do nothing to cause his death?”

His eyes flashed. “You think I’m a murderer?”

She didn’t know what to think. None of this made sense. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Don’t try.” He pushed the prenup toward her. “Just sign.”

“Wait. Please.” She pressed her fingers against her eyelids. Think, she ordered her brain. But everything he’d said, all his seductive evasions and cryptic demands, just jumbled together in her mind. Why would a wealthy, handsome prince want to marry her?

“What about me is so special that it’s worth thirty million dollars?” she asked. “And what does Alex have to do with it?”

He looked away, clenching his jaw. When he turned back to her, his sky-blue gaze was cold.

“I’ve made you a good offer. If you don’t like it, tell me to go to hell. Go back to your old life.”

A sudden rush of fear went through her. Go back to her old life? Wake Chloe up from her soft bed upstairs, and drag her back to their freezing, mouse-infested apartment?

“Or—” he pushed the prenuptial agreement toward her on the table, holding out a pen “—sign this and marry me.”

“But—”

“No more discussion. Make your choice.”

She stared at his outstretched pen.

She’d be a fool to sign this agreement. Without a lawyer to explain the legal jargon, for all she knew she’d be signing her life away. Marry a man she didn’t know? Run away with this darkly handsome prince to Italy? Be transformed from a desperate single mother to a powerful princess? Be so wealthy that her daughter, her granddaughter and her great-granddaughter would all be able to devote their lives to their own pursuit of happiness?

Slowly Lucy took the pen.

She’d be a fool not to sign it.

Her choice was simple. Either take this risk—or take Chloe back to their old life. One paycheck away from living out of Lucy’s car. And she’d just lost her job!

Thirty million dollars. A number beyond comprehension. But still, she hesitated.

“What about your needs?”

“My needs?”

“Your—needs,” she said, flushing. “I won’t share your bed.”

“Ah.” His sensual lips slid into a grin. “We’ll see.”

“No.” She gripped the pen in her hand. “I’d be a fool to love a man like you.”

“We’re not talking of love. I’ve taken many women to my bed, and never once experienced a broken heart. Just pleasure.”

Which was exactly why she had to make sure he never touched her. A playboy prince like Maximo might be able to seduce someone with just his body, but Lucy didn’t think she could keep her heart out of it. She didn’t think she could make love without falling