Italian Prince, Wedlocked Wife. Jennie Lucas
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you think I’m idiotic enough to believe some fantasy about becoming wealthy and getting revenge on Alex, you’re not just a liar, you’re a fool.”
He looked down at her, and she felt scorching heat to her toes. His glance made her feel hot all over, dizzy, pummeled by a whirlwind. “If you were a man, I would make you regret those insults.”
She raised her chin defiantly. “And since I’m a woman?”
His fingers gently traced a tendril of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Your punishment will be entirely different.”
There was a sudden ring at the door. It took a moment for Lucy to even realize what that meant, lost as she was in the sensation tingling up her hair, her scalp, down her spine to her toes. How was it possible that with just a single touch, he could make her whole body shake…?
A hulking man, shorter than Maximo but twice as wide, came to him with a deferential bow. “Mio principe.”
“Ermanno.” The two men spoke in Italian, one giving calm commands, the other acquiescing with a nod.
For a moment, she stared at Maximo. A gorgeous, wealthy, arrogant prince. Demanding that she go with him to Italy. Her, Lucy Abbott. A nobody.
No! she told herself fiercely. She wasn’t a nobody. She was Chloe’s mother. And she couldn’t succumb to this so-called prince’s evil scheme, whatever it might be. She wouldn’t obey. And the fact that his slightest caress made her ache to surrender only proved how dangerous he truly was.
Now. While he was distracted—this was her chance to escape. Before he dragged her away to hell under the guise of sweet promises, and she never saw her daughter again.
Quietly she edged back toward the door.
The two men continued to talk.
Lucy took a deep breath. Then turned and ran.
“Ferma!” the dark prince roared. “Stop, Lucia!”
Outside, the blast of cold air hit her, swirling snow and making her long dark ponytail twist in the wind. Pushing up her glasses, she sprinted for her old Honda. Parked behind the gas station, it was covered by ice and snow. Her hand shook as she stuck the key in the door.
But the lock was frozen!
Panicking, she glanced over her shoulder.
Prince Maximo was striding toward her like a bull, his dark eyes cold and furious. Desperate, she turned it harder.
The key broke off in her hand.
She had no car. No escape.
With a gasp, she turned and stumbled through the snow, crossing the street toward the deserted city park. On the other side of the vast, empty darkness she could see lights and the twinkle of traffic. But she’d barely reached the edge of the park before he caught up with her.
He knocked her into the soft powder, his large, muscled body pressing her into the snow. Grabbing her wrists, he turned her over beneath him. She struggled, but he used his weight against her.
She looked up at his face, so close to hers. With his body so hard and warm against her own, she could barely feel the cold snow beneath her.
“Basta! I told you to stop!” He tightened his hands, shackling her wrists. “You must learn to obey.”
The trees were dark over his head, their snowy branches waving like claws against the gray sky. Scattered moonlight sifted through the clouds, leaving his dark hair in a halo of light.
“I’ll never obey you,” she cried. “Never!”
“We’ll see.” His glance touched her lips, and she suddenly knew he was going to kiss her. In the dark winter wonderland of the park, they were utterly alone. Surrounded by snow and cold, she felt fire in her veins at his touch, and she was helpless to move, helpless to fight.
But she had to fight. Without a mother to protect her, her baby would be vulnerable and alone, tossed into foster care as Lucy herself once had been. She couldn’t give in.
She would fight to protect Chloe to her last breath…
“Let me go,” she whispered. “Please. If you have any decency at all—if you’ve ever loved anyone and lost them—I’m begging you. Let me go.”
Her quiet voice reverberated against the snow, muffled in the thick silence of the night.
He stared down at her with sudden pain in his eyes.
Abruptly he released her wrists and rose to his feet.
“As you wish, cara mia,” he said, sounding almost bored. “Stay here if you wish. I am returning to my hotel.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you, she thought fervently. She scrambled to her feet, turning on her heel, ready to run.
“After all,” he mused behind her, “I want to make sure your baby is sleeping comfortably. And she hasn’t lost that little purple hippo she carries everywhere.”
Her heart stopped in her chest.
Wide-eyed with fear, she whirled back to face him. “What?”
He looked at her with cool disdain. “Oh, did I not tell you? My men picked up your daughter an hour ago.”
CHAPTER THREE
“YOU aren’t going to get away with this,” Lucy ground out for the tenth time as he drove them into downtown Chicago.
Unmoved, Maximo parked his sleek black Mercedes beneath the grand marquee of the Drake Hotel. “You have no idea what I can get away with.”
Furious, she ripped off her blue cashier’s smock, balling it up in her hands and tossing it to the floor. “I don’t know what the laws are like in Italy, but in Chicago, you can’t just kidnap someone—”
“There are laws against kidnapping in Italy, as well.” He abruptly stopped the car. “They do not apply in this case. I did not kidnap your daughter.”
“What do you call it then?”
“I knew you would accept my offer. I simply expedited our departure.”
Leaving the engine idling, he undid his seat belt and stepped out of the black SUV. Her eyes widened as she saw him carelessly hand a hundred-dollar bill to the waiting valet.
“Thank you, your highness,” the young man breathed, and hurried to open the passenger-side door for Lucy. She nearly tripped over her own feet running after Maximo. With his long stride, he was already to the main door.
“Welcome back, your highness.” The brawny doorman touched his cap with deep respect. “Happy New Year to you, sir.”
“Grazie,” Maximo replied with a brief smile. “To you, as well.”
Just inside the revolving door, Lucy caught up with him on the wide flight of stairs leading up to the lobby. She grabbed his arm. “You have them all fooled, don’t you?” she snapped. “Some prince. They think you’re respectable—honorable—but I know the truth. You’re nothing but a…”
He looked at her hand, then back up. His blue eyes were icier than Lake Michigan in winter. “I’m what?”
Fury pounded through her, making her reckless. “A thief. A blackmailer. A kidnapper of children—”
He grabbed her shoulders. She felt the strength of his touch. He looked down, towering over her. His handsome face was as cold and hard as ever; there was something new beneath his eyes—something ferocious and angry, held back by the sheerest force of will.
Looking up into his face, she was suddenly afraid.
His voice was low. “Be careful how you provoke me.”
She swallowed, remembering his earlier promise