Читать книгу By Royal Decree: Royally Romanced - Margaret Way - Страница 17

“IS THE SIGNORINA ALL RIGHT, Paolo?” Renata had disappeared into the bedroom with an armful of packages and hadn’t reappeared yet. Maybe she’d gotten a bit of sun or was unpacking her finds.

“She seemed fine, signor. Although she did ask me to call her by her first name.” Paolo looked as if that request were enough to doubt her mental capacity.

“And you complied with her request?”

“Signor!” Paolo appeared torn, as Giorgio knew he would. His natural formality and knowledge of what was proper conflicted with obeying a request from his prince’s current lady friend.

Giorgio let him stew for a second before letting him off the hook. “You of course told her why that was not possible.”

“Si, si, I did.” Paolo would never slump with relief but relaxed slightly.

“Americans are very informal, as you know. It can be quite appalling how much personal information they share with each other on merely a short acquaintance.”

He nodded eagerly. “That is so true, signor. The other drivers I met in New York…” He winced. “I am not a dottore, signor. Why do they think I want to know about their prostate problems?”

Giorgio winced, as well. “Paolo, you’ve had a busy day. Why don’t you have a glass of wine at the trattoria across the street? The signorina and I will be staying in this afternoon.”

Paolo nodded and left. Giorgio headed to the bedroom. He wasn’t sure what awaited him on the other side of the door, but was eager to find out.

He tapped on the door. “It’s me. May I come in?”

“Of course.” Her voice was sweet and soft, and he grinned in anticipation as he twisted the doorknob.

“Mamma mia!” The exclamation escaped him just before his jaw dropped.

Renata stood next to the four-poster bed wearing something that looked like it had floated down on a cloud. She raised her hand to delicately stroke a post and the thin white silk outlined the curve of her breasts, the thrust of her nipples. He could see nothing but was seeing everything. And that up-and-down stroking was enough to drive him mad.

“Do you like it, Giorgio?” She tipped her head and gave him a coy look from behind the curtain of her luxurious auburn hair.

“What do you think?” He stripped off his shirt and yanked his belt loose.

She ducked behind the other side of the bed before he could finish undressing. He moved opposite her once he was naked except for his boxer shorts, ready to dive across if need be. “Why don’t you come here and let me show you how much I love it?”

She gave him a wide-eyed look. “I need you to show me so many things.”

“Ohhhh.” He nodded in understanding. She was taking things in a different direction, aiming for a little role-playing with her in the lead role as Innocent Virgin. Although the droit de seigneur, or right of the lord to de-flower local lasses, never existed in Vinciguerra and was largely mythical elsewhere, the blood of his conquesting ancestors surged in his veins, his cock hardening even further at the bawdy suggestion.

“I am Giorgio Alphonso Franco Martelli di Leone, Hammer of the Lion and Prince of Vinciguerra,” he informed her, using his formal family name and all his royal hauteur. “Your duty is to please your prince—and obey whatever he orders you to do.”

Her eyes flashed at the obedience part but she lowered her head. “Yes, Prince Giorgio.”

“Come here.” He thought about snapping his fingers but figured he was pressing his luck.

She glided to him. The afternoon sun slipping in through the shutters totally illuminated her body. Her breasts swayed over a narrow waist and round hips.

“I should rip this gown down the front for you daring to wear it in front of me. It is against the law to appear in the Prince’s bedroom with clothing on.”

She muffled a snicker.

“But since it is so sheer, I will make an exception for you.” How far was she willing to go for this mutual fantasy? If she balked, he’d stop, but if she didn’t… “Put your hands behind your back.”

Renata complied but her expression was confused. He grabbed a necktie from the back of the chair and wrapped it loosely around her wrists, then to the bedpost. Her eyes widened, although she didn’t protest. In fact, her breathing quickened and her nipples hardened against the silk.

He moved close so her gown brushed his body, the silk resting on his erection. Oh so close to shoving up the nightgown and taking her how his ancestor would, with thoughts only for his own pleasure, the smoothness of her thighs, the hot, wet tightness of her flesh enveloping him as he pounded deep inside her. And to do it again whenever he felt like, to have her ready and willing at any time of the day or night. The good old days…he bit back a groan.

“What are you going to do, Prince Giorgio?” Her words held a challenge and he answered it.

“Whatever I want.” He smoothed his hands over her breasts, admiring the plump weight as he stared at the dark round nipples showing through the fabric. “And before long, you will beg your master for his touch, his mouth, his cock.” She inhaled sharply at his promise.

He covered a nipple with his mouth and she pushed her head against the bedpost, arching her back. “Oh, Giorgio.”

He worked the tight nub with his tongue and teeth, the silk a flimsy barrier to his determination. She gave a little gasp and he smiled in pleasure. Her breast felt different under his mouth, cool and wet at first but then hot as his breath and her skin heated the fabric.

He moved from one breast to the other, leisurely exploring their curves through the intriguing veil. Renata wiggled in his embrace, a bead of sweat trickling down her neck between her breasts. He licked the salty trail until it fell below her neckline.

Giorgio sat back on his haunches. What would his ancestor do? He gave her a long, slow grin and put his hands on her neckline. “I will buy you another.”

“Another what?” Her dazed eyes widened and she squealed as he ripped the nightgown right down the middle. “Giorgio! Do you know how much this cost? The dollar-to-euro conversion is terrible this week!”

“I will buy you, ten, twenty of them,” he swore as he followed that intriguing droplet of sweat down her belly to where it pooled in her navel. Ah, just right for his tongue.

“And I thought bodice ripping was the stuff of myth and legend,” she quipped, breaking off into a long sigh as he licked her belly.

He had no idea what she was talking about since he was dizzy from her scent, intoxicated from the feminine musk rising from her arousal. He gently spread her folds and dabbed his tongue onto her clit.

She stopped a scream and sagged against the bedpost.

“Here.” Not wanting her to fall, he lifted her onto the mattress, and raising first one leg over his shoulder and then the other, supporting her weight. Her hands were caught loosely enough to take any pressure off her shoulders.

Once she was comfortable, it was time to go to work pleasuring her. He returned to his previous position and opened her wide to him. She had an attack of uncharacteristic shyness and brought her legs together.

“None of that.” He stroked her breasts until her knees fell apart.

“Giorgio,” she sighed his name. “This is so…so…” She stopped, unable to find the words for her thoughts.

“Arousing? Sexy? Incredibly hot?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes. This is amazingly erotic. I feel like the lord of the manor is preparing to ravish me.”

“Good. Then you have the right idea. You will be ravished.” He bit her smooth neck, careful not to mark her white skin. “Totally.” He suckled one nipple to a plump red peak, pleased at her moans. “Completely.” He nipped the other, tugging until it swelled to match. “And quite thoroughly.” He dipped his tongue into her soft, sweet belly button, so glad she had pale, lush feminine curves instead of a stringy boyish build.

She raised her hips in invitation, which he accepted, staring at her again. She was beautiful in her feminine secrets, medium pink like the inside of a conch seashell, her hidden pearl peeping out as it swelled with arousal.

He inhaled her musky scent eagerly. He couldn’t stop remembering how she had gone up in flames under his mouth in his limo and had been eager to see if she would respond like that again. Her thighs quivered in anticipation.

“Do you know how pretty you are here?” He traced his finger around one petal, then the other, purposely avoiding her clitoris.

“No, I never thought much about it,” she panted. “But you can show me your appreciation in one very special way.”

“Oh, I will.” He kept up his lazy tracing, spreading her juices freely. She plumped up even more under his touch, darkening to a deep rose. “In many special ways.”

He slid a finger inside her passage, smugly noting how she instantly pulsed around him. He leisurely thrust in and withdrew, mimicking what he would do later with his cock.

A second finger joined the first.

He rubbed a slightly raised slick spot and she gave a short scream. “Oh, my God, Giorgio! What is that?”

Thrilled that he was teaching her new ways of pleasure, he kept fucking her with his fingers. She attempted to move him along faster by wiggling her bottom, but that made him stop, increasing her frustration.

“Gently, sweetheart. You are always so impatient. Must be that New York temperament of yours.”

She strained at her soft bonds. “You can’t just tie me up and tease me like this. I want you to make me come now.”

He inspected her carefully. She was frustrated but not frightened by their sex play, and he had noticed her pussy dampen and her nipples tighten with lust every time he mentioned the neckties.

“Dammit, Giorgio.”

“Careful, my innocent maid. I may tire of your complaints and decide to quiet you.”

“What with? Another one of your fancy silk ties? Why did you bring so many on a vacation?” Her breath was coming faster and harder the deeper they fell into the fantasy.

He laughed. “Why would I use a silk tie? There are much more pleasurable ways to fill your mouth.” He deliberately rubbed his cock along her leg.

She stared at him, wide-eyed, a fresh slick of moisture running over his fingers. An answering drop soaked into his boxers. He desperately wanted to open his shorts and show her exactly how he could fill her mouth, her hands, her pussy…having her tied up and screaming with pleasure as he took her until his cock exploded.

Merda! His civilized veneer was paper-thin around this woman. With her hair falling down over her magnificent breasts and her nightgown in shreds, she was arousing his previously dormant pillaging and ravaging urges. The Princes of Vinciguerra had long been a hard-fighting, hard-loving lot but he thought modern life had stamped those characteristics out over the past several decades.

Apparently not. He counted to twenty in Latin and calmed down enough to move back between her thighs.

This time, he didn’t stop once he’d rediscovered her G-spot with two fingers and watched with strained satisfaction as she climaxed quickly, pulling at the ties in ecstasy. Red-faced, sweaty and gasping, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He knew she had more response left, so he stroked her clit experimentally. Plump and swollen from her powerful orgasm, it quivered under his touch.

And under his tongue.

He inhaled her scent greedily as he buried his face deep. Her clit rolled easily in his mouth, pulsing as he sucked her gently. She sobbed his name when he rolled his tongue around her passage, dipping inside it as if it were filled with sweet nectar.

“Oh, Giorgio, yes!” Her hips bucked under him, and he scooped his hands under her round ass to hold her still for his mouth. His cock was twitching and jerking like mad; a flick of the wrist and one quick thrust and he could possess her lush, moist pussy with it. She would eagerly submit to him and probably immediately climax, squeezing him in her hot depths as he pulsed within her.

But he would wait. Just a little longer. He gave a long groan of frustration and she pushed against his face, crying out as he rubbed his lips over her. Her legs trembled and she sucked in a deep breath. He sucked hard on her clit and she shrieked her release, thrashing into him as he penetrated her with his tongue, aching to do the same with his cock.

He held on to her until she stopped shaking and sobbing.

“Giorgio,” she whispered.

He raised his head and gazed up at her, worried that it had been too much for her.

But then she smiled at him, and a wave of affection passed between the two of them.

“Renata, are you all right?”

“Fantastic.” She rolled her shoulders and he quickly undid the ties.

“Are you sure?” he asked anxiously, trying not to get distracted by her satiated nudity.

“Absolutely. You high-handed princes know how to show a maiden a good time.” She stood and ran her finger down his chest, swirled it into his belly button and then stopped right above his waistband. “And now it’s time for the maiden to show the prince.” She snapped his waistband.

He gulped. For the first time in known history, a Vinciguerran prince would be the one getting ravished. Thank God for modern times.

RENATA STIFLED A GIGGLE at the look that passed over Giorgio’s face, half relief and half nervousness. “Sit.” She pushed him toward the upholstered chaise and he sat like a king on his throne.

His black silk boxers were strained to the limit in the front. A quick flick of her finger and his erection popped free. Wow, that was sexy-looking, his desire too much for even his clothing to contain. His pupils dilated and then contracted as he stared at her in silent anticipation.

She dropped to her knees in front of him. “Let your loyal subject please you, Your Highness.” She deliberately put her hands behind her back as if she were still bound.

His mouth opened in shock at her submissive posture. “Renata, no.” No, her ass. He’d been fighting his desire to dominate, take her, penetrate her, so much he’d been shaking.

She brushed her lips over his cock and then he wasn’t protesting anymore. He dropped his head back against the upholstery, his mouth opening in a groan. “Ah, si, si…”

She lifted her head. “Your Highness, I want to please you. Show me what to do.”

His eyes blazed green and she could tell he was at the edge of his formidable control. Considering what he had done to her while she was tied to a bedpost, she figured that was an even exchange. She deliberately ran her tongue around her mouth and he cracked, tangling his fingers in her hair.

“Take me in your mouth. Now.”

She opened her lips and he thrust inside. She meekly accepted him, waiting for him to instruct her further. He moved her head up and down on him, his cock growing hotter and tighter. She fought the instinct to participate more actively but the juicy, fat head slipping along her tongue was starting to turn her on, too.

“Harder,” he gritted out. “Suck on me.”

His wish was her command. She immediately applied suction and he went wild, digging his strong feet into the carpet and boosting himself deeper. She relaxed her throat and flicked her tongue along the base of his shaft, humming in appreciation.

His skin was hot and taut under her lips and tongue, a salty drop coating his flesh. Renata sucked hard and felt him harden further.

“Ah, Renata, more, more…” He relaxed his hands and she lifted her mouth off him.

“Tell me, Your Hardness, who’s in charge now?”

His gaze was blurry with desire. “You are, Renata. You always have been.” Before she could blink, he pulled her onto his lap and shoved her nightgown up to her waist. She automatically spread her legs for better balance and he prodded her slick passage with his erection. “Release me from my misery, sweet Renata.”

She sighed with satisfaction and sank onto his cock, moving up and down on him. His hands tightened on her ass and a flash of brilliance popped to her sex-soaked mind. “Spank me.”

His eyes flew open. “What?”

“You heard me. Just a tap, okay? I don’t want to have trouble sitting tomorrow. Don’t you think it would be hot?”

“Si.” His voice was raspy, as if his mouth were dry. “Very hot.”

He lifted his hand slowly and smacked her bottom.

She let go with a shocked puff of air. He looked at her anxiously until she smiled. “I’m not going to break, Giorgio.”

“I would never hurt you, Renata,” he promised.

“This is for fun, not hurt.”

He did it again and this time, she was ready, moving up and down him as his hand landed on her. She shuddered, this time with naughty arousal.

Giorgio grinned. “You just tightened down on me. What a bad girl you are, Renata, darling. I should take my cock out of you and put you over my lap for a good spanking.”

“Sorry, Prince Giorgio,” she said in a falsely meek voice, knowing that she’d just spasmed around him again at the image of her spread over his lap, his dick pressing up into her breasts as he reddened her bottom.

“For punishment, play with your nipples. I like to see them pink and plump—just like your pussy.” He punctuated that with another light slap.

She cupped her breasts, teasing herself with light and then firm touches until her nipples were hard and red as rubies.

From his answering groan, it was punishment for him, too. His eyes were heavy with lust as he watched her avidly. “Very, very risqué, darling. You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

“Mmm.” She was having a hard time catching her breath.

“Of course you do. Next time, I want you to sit in this chair and show me how you like to play with yourself. Maybe I will do the same. After we met and I was waiting for you to arrive, I couldn’t stop remembering your naked wet body under mine.”

“What did you do?” she whispered.

“Wrapped my hand around my cock and thought of you. Many times. In the shower. In the morning. At night. You stripped my self-control. And now it is not any better.” He sounded almost angry. “I smell your perfume, see the curve of your neck and can’t think of anything but ripping your clothes off and fucking you.”

He stopped talking and put action to words. She thought he’d wrung every bit of pleasure out of her earlier, but she was wrong. He reached down to play with her clit as she lifted herself up and down on him.

Oh, he felt so good, inside and under her. She closed her eyes to revel in the sensations he was building in her but he called her name.

“Open your beautiful blue eyes. I want you to look at me when you come.”

She gulped. That seemed even more intimate than some of their previous activities.

He stopped caressing her. “I mean it. No dress-up or games. Just Giorgio and Renata, together.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“Good.” He sat forward and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Move on me, lovely Renata.”

She did, her breasts brushing his face until he captured one in his mouth, his fingers toying with her clit. The delicious pressure built again. Her back bowed and he let go of her nipple.

“Look at me!”

She forced her eyes open to see his fierce expression. He was barely restraining himself and that made her even hotter. She wiggled on top of him and he pinched her nipple, rolling it under his thumb.

She clamped down on his erection and he let go with a stream of very slangy Italian telling her exactly how she was tormenting his cock and how his balls were about to explode. He also threatened to spank her again and she involuntarily spasmed around him.

He began to laugh. “Eh, so you understood that.” He gave her a little slap on the ass and it was all over for her. She crumbled to pieces. Her climax overtook her.

He dug his fingers into her hair. “Look at me,” he gritted.

She did, gasping, sweating, captured by his cock and his hands even more effectively than when she’d been tied to the bedpost.

His nostrils flared at her capitulation. “Oh, yes, that’s it.” He heaved a sigh and she saw how he surrendered to his own orgasm as easy as stepping off a diving board into a pool.

He clenched his jaw and pounded into her, his groans growing louder and louder as his seed jetted from him. His gaze was locked onto hers like a laser and she instinctively knew this was a part of him he had never shared with another woman before.

She wrapped her arms around him and rocked back and forth in time with his movements until he slowed. Before he could say anything, she pushed forward and caught his mouth with hers. Their lips clung for what seemed like forever and then he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers as they caught their breath.

“Oh, Renata mia, just when I think this cannot get any better, you prove me wrong.”

“I thought you’d like that nightgown.”

They both looked at the remnants of that poor abused garment, bunched around her waist and covering his like a see-through loincloth.

“I will have to buy you many more.”

“For a modern monarch, you sure do have archaic tastes in the bedroom,” she teased him. “Tying up an innocent maiden, forcing her to satisfy your debauched lusts and beating her when she was too frightened…”

He eased out of her. “You call that a beating?” He stood and scooped her into his arms. “I think milady doth protest too much, as the playwright said. I think she just protests because she liked it too much.”

Renata flushed and hid her face in his shoulder. He was right. She never would have even tolerated a spanking from any other man, much less enjoyed it so much. He laughed uproariously and set her on the fresh, cool sheets of the bed.

“Giorgio, I’m a mess!”

“A lovely, well-satisfied mess.” He tugged the nightgown down her legs and tossed it on the chair. “Your monarch needs un reposo and will be very cross if his favorite maiden doesn’t join him for some sleep. I plan to stay up for a late dinner and an even later bedtime.” He crawled into bed next to her. “You Americans should try an afternoon rest. It does wonders for your disposition.” He pulled her back to him so they were spooning and draped an arm over her waist.

“You do wonders for my disposition,” she admitted. “You may not believe this, but some people think I can be difficult.”

“No!” He spoke the denial with such shocked sincerity that she looked over her shoulder in suspicion. He quickly hid his expression by kissing the nape of her neck.

“Hmmph.” She muffled a snicker, which turned into a yawn. “As punishment for your sarcasm, you can take me out to the nicest restaurant you can find.”

“Only the best for you, principessa mia.” He yawned, as well, but Renata’s eyes flew open. He’d just called her his princess. From a regular guy, that wouldn’t mean a thing, but from him?

She slowly shifted to face him but he was fast asleep already. A slip of the tongue, no doubt. It wasn’t as if he were offering her the job. She sighed. That was how things got sticky—the girl started imagining herself in a hip, yet lovely wedding gown while she doodled I HEART PRNZ GIORGIO 4EVR or PRNCS RENATA RULEZ. Literally.

Well, no more of that. Despite how hot, sexy, sweet, kind and wonderful Giorgio was, Renata would not fall in love with the man. Giorgio might like her adventurous Brooklyn personality for a fun vacation, but not permanently. No, when he finally settled down, he would want a sweet, delicate woman who could bake him lemon cookies, wave at crowds and never think of wearing a diamond in her nose or embroidering tiny skulls on a wedding dress. Renata wasn’t princess material. Her heart was still packed away in acid-free tissue and a big fancy box, just like one of her vintage wedding gowns.

LATER THAT EVENING, Renata poked her head out of the bedroom. She could hear men’s voices in the living room. Many men. She followed the voices.

She clutched her robe around her when she saw how many guys there actually were. Giorgio glanced up at her from an intense photo conversation and lifted his finger in a “wait a minute” gesture.

She turned to the beefy guy standing next to her. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

He turned his head to stare at her with blank brown eyes but didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t speak English, or maybe he wasn’t paid to speak.

She retreated into the bedroom and dressed hastily in a button-up white blouse and denim capri pants, slipping her feet into plain white sneakers. The sexpot look was inappropriate for a serious situation.

She returned to the living room and sat in the floral armchair. Giorgio continued speaking in rapid Italian on the phone, gesturing emphatically. She understood that he was asking about the safety of his sister and grandmother and started to get alarmed.

For once, though, she kept quiet, realizing that she would only at best be a distraction and at worst a nuisance if she pestered him in the middle of his conversation.

He paused to bark orders at Paolo, who pulled out his own phone and made a call as well.

Renata forced herself to stay calm—until the night exploded with noise. A two-hundred-fifty-pound man was pulling her to the ground and covering her with his bulk.

The clattering noise continued in bursts for several seconds. Was some nutjob shooting at Giorgio? They still assassinated princes and prime ministers. She pushed at her own bodyguard but it was as futile as pushing on the wall. She yelled Giorgio’s name but the other men were drowning her out as they called information to each other.

Renata slowed her breaths. Finally the noise stopped and she thought Paolo shouted something. Her bodyguard heaved a sigh of relief and eased off her. “Petardi,” he said. “What?”

“Like American Fourth July. Pop, pop, pop.” He imitated a string of fireworks.

“Oh, firecrackers.” She started to sit up, but he pulled her back down and shook his shaved head. “Well, if we’re going to get horizontal together, I should atleast know your name.” It was a feeble attempt, but at least it gave her something to think about besides the adrenaline shakes starting up.

He gave her a puzzled look.

“Never mind.”

“Okay!” Paolo shouted. “All clear!”

Renata sat up this time and spotted Giorgio across the room. His bodyguards had dumped over the couch and coffee table, sandwiching him between two of them as well as the furniture. He sat up looking mussed but not particularly upset. This must have happened before—maybe even with real bullets instead of firecrackers.

“You okay, Renata?” he called.

“Fine.” She lifted a hand to wave at him, and her shakes made it wave on its own. She quickly dropped it.

He looked concerned but lifted his phone again. “Pronto? Pronto? Si, petardi.” He laughed about how firecrackers could send them all into a state of siege.

Renata wasn’t. She didn’t think she could stand yet. She scooted so her back rested against the bottom of the chair and pulled her knees up.

Giorgio talked on the phone for another minute and then passed it to Paolo.

Giorgio came over to her. “Are you okay? Giuseppe there is a pretty big guy so I hope he didn’t hurt you when he pulled you down.” He extended a hand. “Come here.”

She took his hand and only wobbled a bit getting to her feet. He guided her to the couch, which was back on its feet as well.

“Giorgio.” Her voice quivered a bit. “Giorgio, what is going on?”

He sighed and gestured at the front windows. “That was firecrackers. Probably the local football team won a match, or someone got married, or just teenagers fooling around.”

“You have eight huge guys standing in the living room on the remote chance firecrackers go off and they need to hurl you to the floor?”

“No, of course not. These men are the rest of Paolo’s team. They’ve been staying nearby in case of incident.”

“What incident brought them all out here? Is your family all right?”

“Yes, and thank you for asking.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back. He kept hold of it, his warmth starting to ease her chills. “But there was a bomb threat at home. At the palazzo.”

“A bomb threat? Where your grandmother lives?”

Giorgio nodded. “Of course the anti-terrorism squad was deployed immediately with the bomb-sniffing dogs. They did not find anything. But when one member of the royal family is threatened, it is standard protocol to deploy extra protection to the other members in case of muliple points of attack.”

“So Stefania has her own team swarming her in New York.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Yes, this doesn’t happen often, but this is not the first time. My grandmother is probably more annoyed than frightened. She has seen Vinciguerra through worse.”

“Worse than bomb threats?”

“She was a girl there during World War II, and during my grandfather’s reign many different factions wanted control of the country. We have a natural deep-water port and the original palazzo is a heavily fortified citadel. Violence was not rare.”

“Oh.” Renata had imagined his country as sort of an Italianate theme park, untouched by darkness or pain. However, one glance at the serious men around her told her that violence was not part of the past. “Who called in the bomb threat?”

Giorgio snapped his fingers and Paolo immediately came to his side. Renata blinked. She didn’t think she’d like Giorgio snapping his fingers at her, but the bodyguard wasn’t offended by the princely gesture. “Paolo, who did this?”

Paolo replied at length. Giorgio signed at the end of his explanation and turned to Renata. “He says the Vinciguerran police have arrested a local group with anarchist affiliations. Their landlady overheard part of their phone call and put two and two together. They had been acting strangely—even more strangely than usual—the past couple days.”

“Anarchists?”

He smiled, which startled her. “One advantage of dealing with anarchists is that they’re pretty disorganized. No one is in charge, after all.”

“Giorgio!” His gallows humor was disconcerting.

“Sorry, sorry.” He put his arm around her. “I know you aren’t used to this. We try our best to stay safe, but we have to live our lives without fear.”

“You’re not scared?” Renata was terrified, disorganized would-be terrorists or not.

He shrugged. “Not for myself, but for Stefania, my grandmother. And you.”

“Me?”

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead. “I am responsible for your safety. Anyone who tries to harm you will have to come through me.”

“And Paolo and the rest of his guys.”

“That goes without saying.” His eyes filled with pride as he surveyed his team. “They’d do anything to protect us, and I hope to God they never need to.”

Renata shivered. Assassination attempts and squads of bodyguards were something from the nightly newscast, not something she’d ever expected to experience. “What do we do now, Giorgio?” she whispered. She meant it as a rhetorical question, but he took her literally.

“Pour us each a glass of wine. Your nerves don’t need any caffeine.” His phone rang and he snatched it up. “Pronto. Si.” He listened and gave her a wry smile. “Stefania is safe. Apparently the security team, uh…startled her and Dieter.”

Poor Giorgio. Renata was sure he would have rather pretended Stefania and her fiancé spent their time pining for each other, but such was obviously not the case.

Renata hid a grin, but sobered quickly. Not much to smile about. She found a nice red wine in the rack and popped it open. That puppy wasn’t getting the chance to breathe—one glass was going straight down the hatch.