Читать книгу Heiress's Royal Baby Bombshell - Jennifer Faye - Страница 11

MAYBE HE SHOULDN’T have pushed. After all, he wasn’t a man to beg for a woman’s company—until now. What was it about Noemi that had him acting out of character? Was it her dazzling smile? Her bewitching eyes? Or her sweet, sweet kiss?

As Max sat at the desk in his bedroom suite, he gave himself a mental shake and tried to concentrate on the plethora of emails awaiting his attention. He checked the clock for what must be the hundredth time. It still wasn’t even close to when Noemi was due to arrive. He sighed.

He may not be at the palace, but that didn’t mean his responsibilities ceased to exist. In fact, he was beginning to think his parents gave him more than his fair share of work to make sure he didn’t stray too far from the business of governing Ostania.

He still had two hundred and seventy-nine unopened emails. He groaned. How was that possible? He’d checked his email last night because he knew he’d be traveling most of today. He’d had it semi under control, but not any longer.

He wished his email was like other people’s and full of spam that he could readily dismiss. However, his email was directed through the palace, where it went through stringent screenings. That meant all two hundred and seventy-nine emails would need to be dealt with personally or would require forwarding to someone else with directions.

He worked his way through the emails in chronological order. And then his gaze strayed across an email from his mother—the queen. She didn’t email him often as she was a bit exasperated with him. She thought he should be at the palace acting the part of proper crown prince. She had no idea how hard it was for him to act his part because the royal court knew that when the time came, he would not be crowned king.

That role would go to his younger brother, Tobias, who at this moment was being meticulously groomed to step up and assume Max’s birthright. He didn’t blame his brother. If anything, he felt indebted to Tobias. His brother was the one sacrificing his youthful adventures in order to learn the rules of governing and the etiquette for dealing with foreign dignitaries.

And yet his brother had stepped up to do what was expected of him without complaint. Max would do no less. He checked the time once again and found that he still had close to an hour and a half before Noemi showed up. It was plenty of time to work through some of these emails.

He opened the email from his mother. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t the very cold businesslike email telling him the schedule of Christmas events and how he was expected to take on a prominent role in the festivities. He hated pretending to the whole nation that he was something he wasn’t—the heir to the throne.

He closed his mother’s email without responding because there wasn’t anything for him to respond to. There hadn’t been one personal word in the whole email. In fact, he would have thought that his mother’s personal secretary had written and sent the email except for the fact it had come from his mother’s private email that not even her secretary could access.

So the cold, impersonal email from his mother indicated that she thought he’d been gone too long. Or worse yet, she’d been reading the paparazzi headlines—which he might add were wildly exaggerated or utter works of fiction.

He opened an email from his own secretary, Enzo, who stayed on top of everything for him. It sorted his duties into priorities, escalating and FYI items. The only problem was the priorities were now taking up more room than the other two categories. It was definitely time to go home.

Max typed up his response to his secretary, letting the man know how to handle things until he returned to Ostania. And then he moved on to the next official email...

Knock. Knock.

Max granted access just as he pressed Send on another response and deleted the original email.

“Sir, Miss Cattaneo has arrived.”

“She has?” How could that be? He’d just checked the time, hadn’t he? His gaze moved to the clock at the bottom of the laptop monitor. A lot of time had passed totally unnoticed. “Please offer her a drink and tell her I’ll be right there.”

He closed his laptop and moved to the adjoining bathroom. He’d meant to clean up before her arrival. He jumped in the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up.

Five minutes later, with his hair still damp, Max strode into the living room. Noemi was still there. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry about that. Time got away from me.” He smiled at her. “Do you need more to drink?” He gestured to her empty glass on the coffee table.

“Actually, yes. That would be nice.”

He moved forward and accepted her glass. “What were you drinking?”

“Water.”

Water? He didn’t know why that struck him as strange. Perhaps he’d become accustomed to serving wine on a date. This was just one more example of how Noemi was different from the other women who’d passed through his life.

He quickly poured water from a glass pitcher. “Here you go.”

When he handed over the now full glass, their fingers brushed and, in that moment, he recalled the silkiness of her skin, the warmth of her touch and the heat of her kiss. With a mental jerk, he brought his thoughts back to the present.

His mouth grew dry and he decided to pour himself some cold water. He took a drink and then sat on the couch opposite hers.

He smiled. “It’s really good to see you again. I just never expected to run into you here.”

She arched a fine brow. “Why? Is skiing only for men these days?”

He inwardly groaned. She just wasn’t going to give him an inch. She was angry about the way they’d left things. And that was his fault.

“Noemi, about our time in Milan, I handled things poorly. Is there any chance you will forgive me? And perhaps we can start over?”

“I told you I’m fine.” Her lips said one thing but her eyes said something quite different.

“The frostiness in this room is making me think I should go get my ski jacket and gloves.”

Her beautiful brown eyes momentarily widened. “It’s not that bad.”

“Maybe not on your side of the room, but standing over here, it’s downright nippy.”

A little smile pulled at her lips. It wasn’t much but it was something.

“That’s better,” he said.

She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you trying so hard when you could have any women you want?” Her gaze searched his as if she could read the truth in his eyes.

“I’ve thought a lot about you since that night. I’ve wondered what it might have been like if we’d have had more time together.”

“Really?” There was a tone of doubt in her voice.

“Do you find that so hard to believe?”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s the way you wanted it—no strings attached.”

“As I recall, you agreed.” He wasn’t going to take all the blame for the circumstances of their parting.

The frown lines on her face smoothed. “You’re right.”

At last, they seemed to be getting somewhere. Perhaps they could build on this and get back to where they’d once been—happy and comfortable with each other.

He took another drink of water and then set the glass aside. His gaze rose and caught hers. “Noemi, is it possible for us to start over?”

A noticeable silence filled the room. He knew it was too much to hope that they’d recapture the magic of that special night, but he had to try. With each passing second, his hopes declined.

“Yes, we can try.”

Her words caught him off guard—that seemed to be a common occurrence where Noemi was concerned. He would need to tread carefully around her in the future.

“Would you like to eat?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up. “I would.”

“Good. I hope you like the menu.”

He stepped into the kitchen to let the cook know. Then he escorted Noemi to a table that had been set next to the wall of windows where the twinkling lights of the resort illuminated ski slopes trailing down the mountainside beneath the night sky.

He’d had the cook prepare something basic because he had absolutely no idea what Noemi liked to eat, other than pizza. That’s what they’d had in Milan when neither of them felt like dressing and going out for a proper dinner. Since then he’d never been able to eat pizza without thinking of her.

And so, after a Caesar salad, they were served a heaping plate of pasta with Bolognese sauce topped with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. He didn’t have to ask if Noemi approved of it. He tried not to smile as she made quick work of the pasta. It was a quiet dinner as he didn’t push conversation, wanting to give Noemi a chance to relax.

When they finished, he noticed there was still a small pile of pasta on her plate. “I take it you had enough.”

She patted her stomach. Then just as quickly she removed her hand and a rosy hue came over her cheeks. To say she was beautiful normally was an understatement, but she was even more of a knockout with the rush of color lighting up her face.

“It was amazing. Thank you.” She got to her feet. “It was good seeing you again. But I should be going.”

He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. “Stay. We haven’t even had dessert.”

“Dessert? I don’t have any room left. Not after that delicious meal.”

“Come join me.” He moved to the couch in front of the fireplace with a fire gently crackling within it. When she didn’t make a move to follow him, he said, “Please, give me a chance to explain—about the way we left things.”

A spark of interest reflected in her eyes. She moved to the couch. When they sat down, she left a large space between them. He hoped by the time they finished talking that the space would shrink considerably.

“The night we met,” he said, “I was captivated by your beauty.”

A small smile played on her lips. A good sign. Still, she remained quiet as though giving him room to explain where things had gone wrong.

“The thing was I wasn’t looking to meet someone—certainly no one like you. You were like a warm spring breeze on an icy cold night. And the next morning, I received bad news from home.”

He hadn’t wanted to burden Noemi with the news of his father’s collapse. It wasn’t like they were in a committed relationship. It had been his burden to carry on his own.

Perhaps he had that in common with his father. Because when his mother had called to tell him of this father’s declining health, Max had made plans to fly home immediately. He had been at the airport when his father called and told him that his mother had overreacted.

His father had insisted he was fine and told Max in no uncertain terms that he would not be welcome at the palace for a pity visit. His father had been so animated on the phone that Max had been inclined to think his mother had gone a little overboard with worry. But that didn’t mean his father’s lifelong battle with diabetes wasn’t taking its toll on him.

Instead of flying home, his father rerouted Max to Spain. It was a diplomatic mission to encourage increased trade between their countries—something Ostania needed.

“Listen, you don’t have to explain,” Noemi said quickly. “You didn’t mean for it to be more than a fling. And that’s fine.” But the tone in her voice said that it wasn’t fine with her.

In that moment, he decided to tell her the whole truth. She deserved that much. “It was about my father. He was ill and my mother was very concerned about his health.”

Noemi studied him for a moment. “That’s why you were so different in the morning? It was the worry about your father and not regret over spending the night together?”

“Maybe it was a bit of both.” When the look of hope faded from her face, he rushed on to say, “I regretted rushing things. I lost my head that night.”

She arched a brow. “Do you mean that? You’re not saying all this nice stuff just because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t handle the news well. My mother—well, she can be a bit dramatic when it suits her purposes—she made it sound like my father wouldn’t last through the day.”

Noemi moved to his side. Her gaze met his. “I’m sorry. How is he?”

Within her eyes, he saw caring and understanding. He cleared his throat. “Much better. And quite stubborn.”

“I’m glad to hear that—about him feeling better. But why couldn’t you have told me? I would have understood you having to leave immediately.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. Telling someone would have made the whole situation real and at the time, I wasn’t ready to deal with it.”

“And now?”

“Now, I regret how I reacted. I shouldn’t have dismissed what we had so readily. I would have liked if we’d been able to keep in contact.” He continued to stare at her, wondering if she felt the same way about him.

“That would have been nice.” Softly she added, “I thought of contacting you, too.”

At last, he could breathe easier. She was slowly letting her guard down with him. He could finally see a glimmer of that amazing woman who’d caught his attention from across the room at the party. He was glad he hadn’t given up. He knew if he kept trying that he’d find her.

He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. He couldn’t rush things. He didn’t want to scare her off. “I’m going to be here at the resort for the next week before returning to Ostania. I’d like it if we could spend some more time together.”

Noemi looked as though she was going to agree, but what came out of her lips was quite different. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially with the press watching your every move.”

“I’ll take care of the paparazzi. They won’t bother us.”

“But how?”

“Trust me. I have a lot of experience evading them. So are we good?”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

He’d come too far to let it fall apart now. “Speak to me. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

“You can’t.” She stood and walked to the wall of windows.

He followed her as though drawn in by her magnetic force. He stopped just behind her. Again, he resisted the urge to reach out to her. “Noemi, I know we haven’t know each other long, but I’d like to think you look upon me as a friend—someone you can lean on.”

She turned to him. “I do—think of you as a friend.”

“Then tell me what’s bothering you. Surely it can’t be as bad as the worry reflected on your face.”

“No. It’s worse.” Her gaze lowered to the floor. “I’m pregnant.”

He surely hadn’t heard her correctly. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant with your baby.”

The words knocked the air from his lungs.

He never thought anyone would say those words to him. And now he couldn’t believe it was true. At the same time, he wanted it to be real. Torn by conflicting emotions, his body stiffened. What was she hoping to accomplish with such a wildly improbable claim?