A Night Of Royal Consequences. Susan Stephens
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heat she’d read about in novels and magazines, but hot, feral lust, that promised very adult pleasures indeed.
‘You are extremely entertaining, signorina.’
‘Really?’ Goodness, she hadn’t meant to be. He certainly was. Sensuality emanated from him. If she embarked on her Italian adventure with Luca, it could only lead to one place. Fantastic! Callie’s inner harlot rejoiced, so now the thought of lying close to him, skin to skin, with those strong, lean hands controlling her pleasure—
‘Signorina?’
‘Yes?’ She blinked and refocused on his eyes...his disturbingly experienced eyes. However attractive and compelling she found him, she had to be careful not to take these newfound flirting skills too far. So the adventure of a lifetime is over before it begins? The adventure of a lifetime was great in theory, but in practice it threatened all sorts of unknown pleasures—dangers, Callie corrected her inner demon firmly. She had more sense than to let things go too far. Concentrating fiercely on her glass of water, she tried not to notice Luca’s brutal masculinity as it warred with her inner prude. She gave up in the end. He’d won this point. He was far better at flirting than she was.
What else was he good at?
Stop that now! Didn’t she have enough to contend with—a crotch-skimming skirt, and heels custom-made to prevent a stylish exit—without going head to head with a sex god in jeans?
‘Another aqua frizzante, signorina?’
How did Luca make that simple question sound so risqué? ‘Yes, please.’
Oh, so her sensible self was on holiday too?
She wanted to know more about him. What was wrong with that? Chances like this didn’t come around every day. So shoot me if I’m easy. She wasn’t ready to leave yet. And, anyway, why should she be the one to go?
Marco quickly refilled her glass and Luca handed it to her. She sucked in a sharp breath as their fingers touched. He was like an incendiary device to her senses. Using the mirror behind the bar, she surveyed the other men in the room to see if any compared. No, was the simple answer. They were all without exception safe-looking guys, dressed neatly in business suits. There was no one else slouched on one hip, wearing extremely well-packed jeans and a crisp white shirt open a few buttons at the neck to reveal a shading of dark hair. She jumped guiltily when she realised that Luca was staring back at her through the mirror.
‘Taking everything in?’ he suggested with that same wicked look.
He couldn’t be interested in her. It didn’t make any sense with so many attractive women in the bar. Had he heard she’d won some money? He might be a particularly good-looking con man on the make, though he didn’t seem in need of cash and Marco the barman seemed to know him. Having survived her father, she had no intention of falling for a good-looking man simply because he was charming.
Falling for him?
‘You’re frowning, signorina,’ Luca murmured in a way that made all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. ‘I hope I’m not the cause of your concern?’
‘Not at all,’ she said briskly as his direct stare sped straight to her core where it caused havoc all over again. On any level Luca was concerning. Lacking airs and graces, with his rugged good looks he could easily be a roustabout from the docks. Equally he could be a practised seducer. And now was not the time for her body to shout hallelujah! Instead, she should be thanking him for the drink and walking away. ‘Would you like a nut?’ she asked instead. Luca grinned and raised a brow in a way that thrilled her. ‘Before I eat them all,’ she added in a tone that told him not to tease as she pushed the bowl towards him.
‘It would be easier and far tastier to come out to supper with me,’ he said, angling his chin to stare her in the eyes.
Not a chance. That would be courting danger.
‘Supper?’ Luca pressed. ‘Or more nuts?’
She glanced with embarrassment at the almost empty dish—and gasped with shock when Luca took hold of her hand. She had never felt such a shock at a physical connection with another human being. The disappointment when she realised he’d only taken hold of her hand to steady it as he poured the last few nuts from the dish onto her palm was humiliating.
‘Enjoy your supper, signorina,’ he said, straightening up.
‘You’re going?’
‘Will you miss me?’
‘Only if I run out of nuts.’
He huffed a laugh that made her heart race like crazy. ‘You could come with me.’
She could singe her wings and crash back down to earth too. ‘No, thank you.’ She smiled, a little wistfully, maybe, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Luca was like a magnet drawing her into danger with those dark laughing eyes. She was enjoying this newfound flirting skill far too much. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your supper.’
‘I choose to be here.’
The way he spoke made breath hitch in her throat. The way he looked at her made everything inside her go crazy. It was everything about him, the Italian accent, his deep, husky voice, and his ridiculous good looks, and perhaps most of all the mesmerising stillness of his magnificent body. She was hypnotised—and determinedly shook herself round.
‘Signorina?’
He was waiting for her decision.
‘Enjoy your supper.’ She wanted to go with him. She wanted to be a bad girl for once in her life. Bad girls had more fun. But then she would have to live with regret. How could she not? She would regret sleeping with him and not knowing him better. She would regret not sleeping with him, and never having the chance again.
‘Enjoy your nuts—’
She couldn’t believe it when he walked away. Oh, well, that was that, then. Everything went flat when he walked out of the door, and he didn’t look back. He hadn’t suggested they meet again, and he hadn’t asked for her number. She’d probably done herself a favour, Callie reassured herself. He’d expect too much, more than she was prepared to give, anyway.
Saying goodnight to Marco, she got down from the barstool. She felt impatient with herself as she walked away. She couldn’t miss a man she didn’t know. She’d feel better once she was back in her room. She might have dressed up tonight, as per Rosie and Ma Brown’s instructions, but she was still Callie from the docks inside. But not for long, Callie decided when she reached her room. She couldn’t hang around the hotel aimlessly; she had to do something—get out, see more of the real Italy. This trip was supposed to be an adventure. She wasn’t tied to the past, or frightened of the future. Roll on tomorrow, she thought as she climbed into bed, and whatever it might hold.
* * *
As soon as he got back to the palazzo he called Marco. ‘Who is that woman?’
‘Signorina Callista Smith? Staying at the hotel on her own, if that’s what you’re asking, my friend.’
‘Am I so obvious?’
Marco barked a laugh down the phone. ‘Yes.’
‘Do you know anything else about her?’
‘Only that she comes from the north of England and that her father died recently, so this is a rebooting exercise for Callie. That’s how she described it while we were chatting. And that’s all I know about her.’
‘Okay. It explains a lot, though I’d guessed some of it.’
‘And?’ Marco prompted.
‘And it’s none of your business,’ Luca told his old friend. ‘See you on the estate for the celebrations tomorrow night?’
‘The start of the lemon-picking season,’ Marco confirmed. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but can you spare the time? I thought Max was