Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: December Books 5 - 8 - Дженнифер Хейворд, Julia James - Страница 20

CHAPTER TEN

THE BALL GOWN was ruined. No point worrying about that now. She’d skip the ball. That was the last thought in Callie’s head as Luca made rational thought impossible. He was making love to her. This wasn’t just sex. They were natural together. This was so good, so right. This was fierce. When the moment came, she was wild with fear of the precipice she was facing, but Luca husked soothing words of reassurance and encouragement in his own language as he kissed her over the edge.

‘Greedy,’ he whispered when she quietened.

‘You make me greedy,’ she complained, smiling with contentment as she crashed against his chest.

Finding the nook just below his shoulder blade, she snuggled close as he carried her to the bed. A deep sense of this being right filled her completely. They belonged together. He laid her down gently on the bed and came to lie with her. When he brought her into his arms, her breathing slowed and her limbs grew weightless. Problems nagged at the back of her mind, but they could wait until tomorrow. Right now she could do nothing more than close her eyes and drift away.

He held Callie in his arms all night, watching her sleep. As he did so, he went over what lay ahead of her. It wouldn’t be an easy transition for her from the freedom of a normal life to all the restrictions of royalty, but if anyone could cope, she could. And he’d be with her every step of the way. He was confident that Callie would adapt to royal life as quickly as he had. He’d rebelled at first, but then he’d been very young. Callie was clever and kind, and her sense of humour would ease her through the sticky patches. Her common sense would get her through the rest. Not only would he have the longed-for heir, but a new, fresh style of Princess who would care for the land he had come to love as deeply as he did.

Careful not to wake her, he left Callie at dawn. Breakfast meetings were the norm for him. With her hair tousled, and her face still flushed with sleep, she had never looked more desirable, but he was a slave to duty. Both his royal council and his business concerns called him this morning. And then there was the ball tonight. He grimaced as he glanced at the gown he’d ruined. But there were plenty more on the rail. Callie would have to forget about being understated for one night, and just choose one of them.

* * *

Callie woke slowly, cautiously. At first she didn’t know where she was. Her head was ploughed into a stack of pillows scented with lavender and sunshine. The bed was firmer than she was used to, the duvet softer...and her body felt very well used. With a groan of contentment, she turned her face, relishing the touch of the smooth white cotton, and inhaled deeply. Slowly, it all came back to her. Reaching out a hand, she searched for Luca, and stilled when she discovered the bed at her side was empty. Sitting up, she could see the indentation of his head on the pillow, so she hadn’t imagined last night. She really was at the palace. The palace! In the most sumptuous suite of rooms imaginable. Incredible. But it was very quiet. She stilled and knew at once she was alone.

Hearing a knock on the door, she hastily pulled up the sheet to cover her naked body. ‘Yes?’ It had to be the maid. Spotting what remained of the glamorous gown still strewn on the floor, she called out, ‘Just a minute,’ and leapt out of bed. Gossip would spread like wildfire in the palace. Why fan the flames? Gathering up the dress, she brought it back to the bed, and stuffed it out of sight beneath the bedding. ‘Come in,’ she called out brightly.

The maid entered carrying a breakfast tray. There was a single red rose in a silver vase on the tray. ‘From His Serene Highness,’ the maid explained as she set down the tray. ‘He has suggested that you rest this morning in preparation for the ball.’

Recover, he meant, Callie thought dryly, showing nothing of her thoughts on the passionate night before on her face. ‘Thank you for bringing my breakfast,’ she said warmly, ‘but I will be getting up.’

‘Oh, and this arrived by courier,’ the maid said as she handed Callie a package she had lodged under her arm.

‘For me?’ Callie exclaimed with surprise.

She bolted breakfast as the maid opened the curtains and threw the windows wide. She couldn’t wait to open the unexpected parcel, but wanted to do so when she was alone.

‘Anything else I can get for you?’ the maid asked politely before she left.

‘Nothing. Thank you.’

Turning over the large padded envelope, Callie smiled broadly. The bold handwriting gave the game away, as did the UK stamp. ‘Ma Brown,’ she breathed. ‘What have you done now?’

What Ma had done was to go shopping at a popular high street store, where she’d found the perfect dress for Callie to wear at the ball. Callie gasped with pleasure as she held it up and saw her reflection. The dress was simple and elegant. At last, a dress she could feel comfortable in. She’d take a shower and then she’d try it on.

The fine flesh-coloured fabric slithered over Callie’s naked body like a second skin. It couldn’t have fitted her better. The design was uncannily similar to the gown that lay ruined on the bed. The popular brand was a known fast follower that could have catwalk looks available for sale within hours. She would go to the ball, Callie concluded with amusement as she slipped on a pair of high-heeled shoes, and in a dress worth infinitely more to her than all those expensive gowns on the rail put together. Picking up her phone to thank her best of friends, she smiled with pleasure. ‘Oh, Ma Brown, you’ve really come up trumps this time,’ she murmured as she waited for the call to connect.

* * *

It was the evening of the grand ball and all his guests had arrived, but where was Callie? He wasn’t accustomed to waiting. Tonight of all nights, a late arrival was unacceptable. Her maid had been given strict instructions regarding timing. Royals were expected to be punctual. Everything ran to clockwork precision. There was no leeway for a few minutes either way. With impatience, he turned his attention from the entrance where Callie was due to appear, to the guests who were waiting to meet him.

Laughter and excitement filled the room. There was a huge sense of expectation. No one had refused his invitation to the ball. There were rumours of an announcement tonight and interest was running high. He felt a great sense of love and gratitude for the restoration his father, the late Prince, had carried out so efficiently on the glorious old building, and this did soothe him to some small degree. The ballroom was a glittering spectacle with huge chandeliers glittering like diamond globes beneath a domed sky of priceless frescoes. An orchestra of the most talented Viennese musicians set the mood. Waiters in black dress trousers and short white jackets, braided with the royal colours, carried solid gold trays bearing a selection of canapés prepared by the world’s top chefs. There were two champagne fountains, as well as tall crystal flutes of vintage champagne being offered to guests at priceless French ormolu tables that lined the room. Nearly every country was represented. Splendidly dressed royals dripping in family jewels mingled with diplomats and top-ranking soldiers. No one was too proud to sup at his table. Guessing that tonight would be talked about for years had winkled out even the most standoffish royal. Everyone was keen to see how the boy from the gutters had transformed into a prince.

So where was she?

There was no excuse for this. He had instructed his private secretary to commission the finest hairdressers and beauticians to assist Callie with her preparations for tonight. He couldn’t believe her personal maid had failed to get her out on time. Did Callie hope to slip in unnoticed? Was she coming at all?

He gave a grim shrug. Callie Smith was the one woman he could never predict. Summoning a footman, he sent a message to Signorina Smith’s maid to ask how much longer she would be. The man hurried off, leaving Luca to seethe in silence.

* * *

Well, this was it, Callie concluded as two liveried footmen swung the gilded double doors wide. She had politely asked the hairdressers and make-up artists to leave, preferring to get ready by herself, and now there was just this small hurdle of a ballroom packed with the great and good to overcome. She inhaled sharply at the scene of dazzling glamour, and was almost blinded by the flash of diamonds and the light flaring from countless chandeliers. Trust me to forget my tiara tonight, she mused wryly. Lifting her chin, she walked forward.

‘Signorina Callista Smith.’

Callie glanced around as the disembodied voice of a famous television personality announced her arrival at the ball.

‘That’s you, miss,’ one of the friendly footmen who’d opened the door for her prompted in an exaggerated stage whisper.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.

In the time it had taken Callie to say this, every head had turned her way. Even the orchestra paused, leaving her at the top of a dizzying flight of marble steps. The solid mass of people below her looked impenetrable, and not exactly welcoming. Her throat dried. She clenched her hands into fists at her side. She could only pray the stiletto heels fairy was on her side tonight.

‘Wait...’

Every head swivelled to stare at Luca. His familiar voice stripped the tension from her shoulders. Her gaze fixed on him as the crowd parted to let him through. Whatever remained of her breath flew from her lungs as he strode forward. In full dress uniform, with his sash of office drawing attention to his powerful chest, this was the man she remembered, the man her body rejoiced in, the man she laughed with, slept with, and enjoyed challenging, as Luca relished tormenting her, and right now he looked good enough to eat.

‘May I?’ he asked, offering his arm as he prepared to lead her down the stairs.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled—graciously, she hoped.

If a pin had dropped, it would most certainly have deafened her. It appeared that no one breathed, let alone spoke, as Luca steered her safely down the steps.

‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered.

‘I’m sorry I took so long,’ she whispered back. ‘The hairdresser made me look like a freak, so I had to redo everything. And don’t even ask about the make-up.’

‘But you aren’t wearing any.’

‘Exactly,’ she murmured. ‘If you’d seen me with false eyelashes and red-apple cheeks you’d have run a mile.’

‘Would I?’ he murmured, sounding unconvinced.

They’d reached the dance floor by this time. Everyone was staring, but just being with Luca reassured her, and she didn’t hesitate when he asked her to dance.

Callie came into his arms like a rather lovely boat floating effortlessly into its mooring. The intimacy between them must have been obvious to everyone, and the shocked silence that had first greeted her changed at once to a buzz of interest.

‘I can just imagine what they’re saying,’ she breathed.

‘Do you care?’ he replied.

‘No,’ she assured him. ‘I just wish I was barefoot. You’re in serious danger of being stabbed.’

‘Not a chance,’ he whispered.

He laughed. She relaxed, and the glamorous ball continued.

‘Where did you get the beautiful dress?’ he asked. ‘You look stunning. It’s so elegant. I didn’t see it on the rail. It’s so delightfully simple, compared to other women’s more elaborate gowns.’

‘That’s the secret of its allure,’ she assured him with a cheeky smile. ‘Ma Brown,’ she whispered discreetly.

‘Well, wherever it came from, you couldn’t look lovelier.’

‘Well, thank you, kind sir...you don’t look too bad yourself.’

She was in his arms, and, as far as he was concerned, that was all that mattered. ‘Do you find it warm?’ he asked.

‘Is this another of your euphemisms, which could be interpreted as let’s find a tree?’

‘Callie Smith,’ he scolded softly with his mouth very close to her ear.

‘You left me alone, abandoned me, and now you can’t get enough of me?’

‘Correct.’

‘Don’t you have any scruples?’

‘Hardly any,’ he confessed. ‘I’m planning to take you to see a magical gazebo.’

‘Filled with your etchings?’ she guessed.

He laughed, and was further amused by the fact that people dancing close to them were hanging on their every word. Leading Callie off the dance floor, he led her through towering glass doors onto a veranda stretching the entire length of the palace. Even this late in the year, plants illuminated by blazing torches still flowered profusely, and their fragrance filled the air. He wouldn’t usually notice such things, but being with Callie always heightened his senses. A pathway led through the formal lawn gardens, and where they ended there was a lake with an island at its heart. Lights glinted on the island, and a rowing boat was moored alongside the small wooden pier that stretched out into the lake.

‘Really?’ Callie queried with a pointed glance at her dress and shoes.

‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’ he demanded.

Slipping off her shoes, she accepted his steadying hand as she gingerly boarded the boat. ‘I used to escape the palace by rowing out to the island,’ he explained when he joined her. He’d left his uniform jacket and white bow tie on the shore with his highly polished shoes. Freeing a few buttons at the neck of his shirt, he sat across from her and reached for the oars.

‘I can understand why you might want to be alone here,’ Callie agreed as she trailed her fingertips in the water. ‘It’s so beautiful and peaceful on the lake.’

‘I didn’t notice that when I was a youth,’ he admitted, plunging the oars into the mirror-smooth water. ‘It took time for me to trust the Prince, my father, and sometimes I was just angry for no reason and just wanted to get away. Now I think I was afraid of disappointing him. I’d only known rare acts of kindness on the streets, and the fact that he never gave up on me seemed to be just one more reason for me to put him to the test.’

‘That’s only natural.’

‘I was lucky.’ He put his back into the stroke and as he saw Callie’s appreciative gaze focus on his bunching muscles his impatience to reach the opposite shore grew.

‘How did you live,’ she asked, ‘back before the Prince found you?’

He shrugged and dipped the oars again. ‘I cleaned around the market stalls in return for spoiled fruit, stale bread, and mouldy cheese. I had some good feeds,’ he remembered, ‘but the stallholders had many calls on their time, and I was proud even then. I might have been filthy and wearing rags but I vowed that I would never sink any lower and would always strive to rise. My bathroom was the Tiber, and my bedroom better than most people could boast.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked.

‘I slept at the Coliseum,’ he explained. ‘I came to know a member of the security staff, and he turned a blind eye when I curled up in the shadows of that great arena.’

‘You make it sound romantic,’ Callie said with a frown, ‘but you must have been freezing in winter.’

‘It was certainly a challenge,’ he recalled, ‘but atmospheric too. I used to sleep in Caesar’s box, rather than in the dungeons where the poor victims used to languish as they awaited their terrible fate. I had nothing in the material sense,’ he added as their small craft sliced through the water, ‘except when it came to determination. I had plenty of that, as well as the freedom to change my condition, which I did.’

‘What age were you when this was happening?’

‘I was grubbing around the streets from the age of four. That was when my mother died,’ he explained. ‘The whorehouse where she worked kicked me out. In fairness, no one could spare the time to take care of me. I think now that I was better off by myself. The clientele at the brothel weren’t too choosy who they abused, if you take my meaning.’

‘I do. But how did you manage on your own on the streets at the age of four?’

‘There were other, older children on the streets. They showed me how to stay alive.’

‘How did you end up at the Coliseum?’

‘A lot of homeless children slept there. I saw the tourist posters advertising this colossal building, and I wanted to see it for myself. Getting inside was easy. I just joined the queue of tourists and walked straight in. I soon learned that if I pretended to be a lost child, concerned attendants would feed me. It worked for quite a while until they began to recognise me, but by then they had developed a soft spot for the boy from the gutters and so they turned a blind eye. The people who worked at the Coliseum didn’t have much money, either, and so they saved food from the trash for me to root through. There were plenty of half-eaten burgers and hot dogs for supper. I don’t remember being hungry. The Coliseum was like a hotel for me, growing up, so don’t feel sorry for me. I did fine. The Coliseum was both my home and my school. I saw everything you can imagine during my time there. I learned about sex, violence, thieving, unkindness, and great acts of kindness too.’

‘Can you remember your parents?’ she asked as he took a deep pull on the oars.

‘Nothing I care to bring to mind,’ he admitted dryly. ‘My mother was always harassed and often sick. I think now that she was what we would call depressed. No surprise there, but a child can’t understand why a person behaves the way they do. A child only knows that it’s hungry, or frightened, and I knew I had to fend for myself long before she died.’

‘And your father? Did you ever meet him?’

‘He turned up one night,’ Luca recollected. He huffed a short, humourless laugh. ‘My mother’s colleagues pelted him with rotten fruit and worse. I remember him standing on the street, shouting up at her open window. I remember his angry voice, and his soiled white shirt and the glint of his gold earrings.’

‘He doesn’t sound very nice.’

He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘And now you’re a prince with a country to rule and a palace to live in. It must all seem quite incredible, even now?’

‘No. It seems right,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘If there was luck involved, it was that I met the Prince, the best of men, and a man who changed my life. Though even that wasn’t as simple as it sounds,’ he admitted. ‘After everything I’d seen, I wasn’t easily impressed—not even by the Prince of Fabrizio.’

‘How did he persuade you to leave the streets and come to live with him?’

‘He was a patient man,’ Luca said, thinking back. ‘From the moment he found me stealing food from the bins and the buffet table during his royal visit to the Coliseum, he was determined to save me. He told me this years later.’

‘What did he do about your stealing?’ Callie asked as he shipped the oars.

‘He asked his attendant to find me a shopping bag, so I didn’t have to hide my hoard down my shirt.’

‘Cool,’ she said, smiling.

‘Oh, he was that,’ he agreed as he sprang onto the shore to moor up.

She placed her hands in his as he helped her onto the dock. He wanted to take her right there. Throw her down on the cool wood and make love to her until she didn’t have the strength to stand, but delay was its own reward.

It was just a small island. She could probably walk around it in ten minutes, Callie thought. The grass was cool and green, and felt lush and thick beneath her naked feet. Picking up the hem of her dress, she stared around. The clustering trees were lit with thousands of tiny lights in celebration of the ball. And then she saw the gazebo he’d talked about ahead of them. ‘Is this where you used to come and sulk?’ she asked.

‘How did you guess?’

As he swung around to face her, the pulsing heat of desire surged through her. ‘I’ve been a teenager too.’

He laughed and held out his hands. She felt so safe and warm when he took hold of her, and Luca’s kisses were always a drugging seduction. They seemed even more so here on this magical island. Just occasionally, fairy tales did come true. She wanted to believe it so badly as he kissed her again. She’d spent so much of her life bottling up emotion, but Luca knew how to set it free, and as his kisses grew more heated she knew she would take any and every chance to hold onto happiness.

He swung her off her feet and strode quickly to the entrance to the gazebo. Lowering her down, he steadied her and then pressed her back against the wooden structure. Caging her with his arms either side of her face, he brushed his lips against her mouth and smiled. It was the most romantic moment, but if she’d written the fairy tale herself she could never have predicted what he’d say next. ‘Marry me, Callie. Marry me and become my Princess.’

At first she thought she was imagining it, and it was all a dream, until Luca repeated softly, ‘Marry me, Callie.’

She stared into his eyes, struggling to compute what he’d said. Embarrassed, uncertain, she resorted to teasing him. ‘Shouldn’t you be down on your knees? Or, one of them, at least?’

‘I need an answer,’ Luca said, refusing to respond to her lighter tone. ‘Just a straight yes or no will do. Or are you playing for time?’

‘No,’ she argued. ‘I’m playing for the highest of stakes of all. I’m playing for my heart, and for the future of our child.’

‘Then, marriage makes perfect sense,’ he insisted.

‘Does it?’ She frowned.

‘You know it does.’

Smiling into her eyes, he kissed her again, and because she wanted him she was foolish enough to believe in the fairy tale for now.