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“Was Max and Selena’s marriage arranged?” She felt a tiny twinge of guilt for digging into Maximo’s past. It would have been one thing if she were really the woman he loved, if they had the sort of relationship where they shared confidences. But they didn’t.
“Yes. Well, my mother met Selena after one of her shows. She was an opera singer … a very talented one. My parents had been pushing Max to settle down and start having babies. They encouraged him to pursue Selena and he did. I know he loved her, though, after a while. I could tell. So it was an arranged marriage in a way. Not like mine, though.” She sighed. “I’ve never even met my fiancé.”
Alison only half heard the rest of the conversation. She was too busy processing the information she’d just received. No wonder Maximo’s view on marriage was so pragmatic. He’d made it sound as though his mother had introduced them, but she had assumed that he’d married her for love, not duty. Although Isabella was certain he’d grown to love Selena.
She was also starting to suspect that his marriage hadn’t been a perfect one. She could see it in the tension that pulled up around his eyes when he spoke of his late wife. But they had been through so much as a couple, perhaps it was only natural that they would have had some strain put on the relationship.
She couldn’t figure out why it all suddenly seemed so important. It just did. The more she got to know Max as a person, the more she wanted to know about him. She just wanted to … to understand him. And that was normal. He was the father of her baby; of course she wanted to understand him.
The limo pulled up to the curb of what looked like a very upscale row of boutiques. The driver opened the door and Isabella slid out. Alison followed. The ocean was only a hundred yards away from the shops, and the chilly salt air did wonders for the eternal churning in Alison’s stomach. The shops were all set into small, historic stone buildings, but just at the end of the row of boutiques there was a new, massive casino. It wasn’t all lit up like Vegas, rather it was more sedate, in keeping with the theme of the rest of the district. Maximo really was a genius. What he’d done to revamp the economy of his country was brilliant.
Women in expensive clothing milled around on the cobblestone walks sipping coffee that was as designer as their handbags. The men, Alison assumed, were in the casino.
“Princess Isabella!” Both Isabella and Alison turned to the sound of a man shouting. A flash went off, followed by more flashes.
Alison’s eyes widened. There was a pack of people, men and women, holding cameras, They were moving toward the limo quickly, microphones and recorders held out.
“Are you Alison Whitman? Prince Maximo Rossi’s fiancée?” A woman shouted just before snapping a picture with her camera.
“Why are you getting married so quickly?”
“Does it bother you that you aren’t as glamorous as his first wife?”
“Is he good in bed?”
Questions—lots of questions, inappropriate questions—were flying at her from all directions, and the paparazzi was moving in closer, crowding them up against the side of the limo.
“Back up!” Alison yelled, afraid she was about to get crushed against the side of the car. Afraid for her baby. But no one was paying attention because her statement hadn’t included any hint of scandal.
Isabella managed to get the door open, and Alison slid into the car after her, closing the door and locking it behind them. “Drive!” she said, banging on the partition between the front and backseat. The princess drew a shaky hand over her face. “No wonder I’m not allowed to do this.”
“That was … overwhelming,” Alison said, leaning back against the seat. She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t factored it in when she’d imagined being married to Max. She wanted to cry. Nothing was going like it was supposed to. Living like this was so foreign, and such a complete departure from how she’d imagined her life. It was only just now sinking in, how much she was changing her life to give her baby a father.
Isabella’s expression turned sad. “It was always like that for Max and Selena. The press couldn’t get enough of them.”
Alison couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for them. Cameras following them all the time, the constant, insistent crush of bodies every time they went out in public. She wasn’t sure she could cope with it.
But it’s your life now.
She put her hand on her stomach and tried to calm the wild, fluttery wings of panic that were making her entire body tremble.
Isabella picked up her cell phone and punched numbers rapidly. “Max,” she all but shouted into the phone. “We just got ambushed by the paparazzi.”
She cast Alison a sideways glance, her expression guilty. “I wanted to go shopping. I didn’t think …”
Alison could hear the muffled tirade that Max was subjecting his sister to. Isabella grimaced, but let him talk until he was through yelling. “She’s fine. The baby, too, I’m sure. We’ll see you in a moment.”
Isabella hung up the phone. “I’ve never heard him sound like that before. He’s worried. He must really love you.”
Alison’s heart squeezed and a restless, burning ache seemed to open up inside of her, one that she was desperate to have filled. But she didn’t know what she needed to fill it.
That was a lie. She was starting to think she knew exactly what would fill it. But that was a something she was too scared to face. Everything seemed to be closing in on her at once; the stark reality of what all the changes becoming a princess would entail, and even more terrifying, the reality of the feelings she was starting to have for her future husband.
When they got back to the castillo Maximo was pacing in the vast entryway, his expression thunderous. “That was incredibly foolish and immature of you, Isabella,” he ground out. “You could have both been hurt.”
“I didn’t know it would be like that!” Isabella protested. “How would I? I’m never allowed out anywhere!”
The fierceness in his expression diminished slightly and he blew out a hard breath. “Did you see any press badges?” he demanded, the moment they walked into the room. “If you have names I will see that the people responsible for this are thrown in jail.”
Isabella shook her head. “I don’t think any of them had ID on display.”
“They were just doing their jobs, Max,” Alison said. “There’s no need to throw anyone in jail. We’re fine. It was scary but they weren’t trying to hurt us or anything.”
“I don’t tolerate that kind of gutter press in my country,” he bit out. “If a reporter wants to take pictures that’s fine, but there is no excuse for chasing down a couple of innocent women. Whether they intended to hurt you or not isn’t the issue. They could have hurt you.”
Alison put a hand on his arm, the need to touch him, to offer some kind of balm for his rage, was too strong for her to fight against. “We’re fine. The baby is fine.”
“We’re leaving,” he said curtly. “Until the media firestorm is over we’re not staying in Turan.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in a number, then barked orders in Italian to whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other end.
He hung up and turned to face Alison. “Go and pack, cara mia. We’re going to start our honeymoon early.”
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_7bebcb1d-83f8-5926-9ded-7cb9e7a08abb)
THE flight to the island of Maris was short. The small plane touched down in a field of moss-colored grass only ten minutes after takeoff. The island itself was less mountainous than Turan, with white sand beaches that bled into expansive fields and thick olive groves.
There was no car waiting for them when they disembarked from the plane.
Maximo had spent most of the half-hour flight on his phone making arrangements for any work he needed to do to be finished remotely from the island. She’d spent the whole flight feeling shaky and … excited? No. Just shaky about the prospect of being almost alone with him in such a beautiful, isolated, romantic place.
“You were joking about the honeymoon thing, right?” she asked, surveying the vast expanse of green around them.
He turned to face her, the expression in his dark eyes so hot it burned her down to her toes. “I promised I wouldn’t force you, Alison, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t seduce you.”
Her stomach flipped, and as her nausea was starting to fade already there was no way she could place the blame on her pregnancy. “Well, that isn’t … it’s not … you won’t be able to.”
He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. “What did I tell you about issuing challenges?”
“I …” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his mouth, couldn’t stop herself from leaning in just slightly …
He withdrew suddenly and began to walk, as though nothing had just passed between them. As though she wasn’t about to melt into a puddle of satisfied longing in the grassy field. “It’s just a short walk through the grass. The villa is just through the grove.” He pointed to the knot of olive trees that were directly in front of them.
They came through the brush and into a landscaped clearing with stone paths and beautifully kept gardens. A large circular fountain was at the center of the courtyard, and beyond it was the three-story villa with cream stucco walls and Spanish-tile roofing.
“It’s gorgeous!” She couldn’t help but think that Selena must have loved it here. It was idyllic. There were no roads, no city noises of any kind; just broad expanses of azure sky and acres of virgin land. It was the perfect escape for a couple who were desperately in love and wanted nothing more than to spend all of their time devoted only to each other. Talking, laughing, exploring, making love.
“Selena never came here.”
It was as if he could read her mind sometimes, and given the recent tenor of her thoughts, that was a disquieting notion indeed.
She turned her head sharply and he laughed. “You wear your thoughts pretty openly. You looked sad. Although I can never understand why you feel so much for my late wife.”
A deep sadness filled her and she felt tears sting her eyes. “It’s just that … I have all that she wanted. It feels wrong somehow that I’m here with you. With the baby you both wanted. I’m the wrong woman.”
He took her hand and led her to a stone bench. He sat and pulled her down gently, bringing her close to the heat of his body, her thigh touching his. “Cara, I don’t know what the future would have held for Selena and me if she had lived. None of us can know that. But I don’t think of this baby as belonging to Selena. This is our baby. Yours and mine.”
She gave him a watery smile. “I appreciate that.”
“I cannot regret it, Alison. I can’t regret that you’re carrying my baby, our baby. It is a dream I never thought to see realized, a child of my own. You have given that hope back to me and I can only be grateful for the mix-up at the lab now. Without it, I would not have this chance.”
He put his hand over her stomach. He did that a lot now, and she had come to enjoy the gentle pressure of his touch, the tingling warmth that the contact always brought. She couldn’t regret it, either. There was no way she could. She cared for Maximo, respected him. She was very glad that her baby would have him for a father.
He turned his focus from her and onto the house. “I started building the villa before her death. She was very unhappy with the location and refused to visit it. I had hoped it would be our family home. But she preferred the city.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. “I lost her long before she died.”
Again she caught that glimmer of sadness in his otherwise composed expression. And she wanted to fix it with a ferocity that shocked and scared her. “I know you were going through a hard time, but I’m sure she loved you, Max.”
“She was unhappy. Being a princess demanded much more of her than she’d anticipated it would.”
“But she had you.”
“Sometimes. My position has always demanded that I travel a lot. Selena didn’t want to be dragged around on business trips. She wanted someone to entertain her. Someone to be with her. Take care of her. She did not suffer from that same independent streak that you do,” he said, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I can’t fault her for that. I can’t fault her for being unhappy.”
Alison couldn’t understand how Selena could have been unhappy with Maximo. There was something about him that just made her want to be with him. She liked his smell, the comforting heat of his body as he sat next to her on the bench. The way he touched her belly, so gently, reverently. Being with him made her feel secure. Happy. Cared for in a way she couldn’t remember ever being cared for.
The realization was enough to shock her into standing from the bench. She was starting to need him too much. Even without sex and romance he was burrowing under her skin. Yes, Maximo was a good man, but he was also an arrogant autocrat who expected her to just fall in line and do exactly as he said. When he said marriage was the only option he expected her to see it his way, and when he said they were going on an early honeymoon she’d found herself on a plane within five minutes of his edict.
It was far too easy to forget all of that when he turned on his charm and flashed that sexy smile at her. But she wasn’t going to let herself do that anymore. It was too dangerous.
“I’m hot. I want to go inside,” she said.
Maximo didn’t know what had caused the dramatic shift in Alison’s mood. She had been sweet one moment, not resisting his attempts to touch her, and then she had gone stiff and jumped as far away from him as she could manage in one movement.
He wanted her. He had been totally honest about his intention to seduce her, and he did intend to. He was going to make this advanced honeymoon a honeymoon in the most basic sense of the word. He ached for her every night as he lay in his empty bed, images of her fiery hair spread around her head as he laid her back onto his pillows. That gorgeous mouth parted on a sigh as he sank into her willing body …
His need for her was so strong, so intense that his entire body ached with it. Desire on this level was a madness he’d never before experienced. And it was an ideal scenario for it. Alison did not want love, but he knew she felt the same kind of lust for him that he felt for her. Lust he could handle. Love was not on the agenda.
This feeling, this overwhelming passion, was about as far removed from love as anything he could think of. But then, Alison was as far removed from Selena as one woman could possibly be from another. And for that he was grateful. Alison was fiery, independent. When she was angry with him, as she seemed to be, inexplicably, at the moment, she let him know.
Selena had been so delicate. She had needed him, needed his protection, his support. He had failed at that. Failed spectacularly. In the end she’d withdrawn from him completely and he’d had no way to reach her, no way to stanch the flow of grief that had seemed to flow endlessly inside of her.
At least with Alison it would be different. He wouldn’t be caught in that same, endless hell his first marriage had been in the end. She wouldn’t cling to him, expect him to solve all of her problems then blame him for everything that seemed to go wrong.
Guilt struck him low and fast. Yes, Selena had been difficult at times, but hadn’t it been his job to slay her dragons? Even if there had been more dragons in her life than there were in most people’s, that was irrelevant. She had been his wife. It had been his job to make her happy. He had failed.
But with Alison at least he could stay out of those murky waters. Alison didn’t want a real marriage relationship and neither did he. They had that in common. And, whether she wanted to admit it or not, they also shared an attraction.
He stood and moved to follow her into the villa, banishing all thoughts of his first marriage as he watched the gentle sway of Alison’s hips as she walked ahead of him.
Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy the seduction of his fiancée very much.
Maximo was in his private office, giving Alison a chance to sleep off the afternoon’s stress. She was tired. She needed to rest. That was the refrain he kept replaying in his mind, when his body was demanding that he find her immediately and commence with his seduction plan.
He’d been trying to concentrate on work, trying not to focus on the woman sleeping down the hall. But it was a useless endeavor. His desire for Alison was slowly taking him over; an almost primitive need that seemed bone deep, as though it was in him, inseparable from him now.
He was almost ready to give up on his attempt at productivity when his mobile phone rang. It was his personal physician calling with the test results.
The call took only a minute, and in that minute his life was changed.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_00310273-91ba-564e-b9ee-30097b0dc05e)
MAXIMO opened the door to Alison’s bedroom without knocking. She was asleep and her beauty stole his breath, made him feel weak with desire, like a starving man in desperate need of nourishment. Even with all of the turmoil inside of him, he still wanted her.
“Alison.” He sat down on the bed and took her hand in his. “Alison.” He moved his other hand over her face, brushed her hair back. She stirred beneath his touch, her body arching, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
His body hardened instantly, his stomach tightening. “Wake up, Alison.”
She rubbed her hand over her eyes and rolled to the side, her coppery eyes cloudy with sleep, her hair tousled. And he had never seen a more beautiful woman. She was so beautiful it made him ache.
“Max?” his name on her lips, her voice thick with sleep, was the single most arousing thing he’d ever heard in his life.
“The doctor called.”
She sat up quickly, pushing her hair back. “What did she say?” The film of tears in her eyes made his heart feel too large for his chest.
“I’m not a carrier. There isn’t a chance our baby will have Cystic Fibrosis.”
A short cry escaped her lips and she threw her arms around his neck, sobs shaking her frame. He held her close and let her release all of her emotion, let her do it for both of them. He held her until his neck was wet with her tears.
“I was so afraid,” she whispered, her lips brushing his jaw. “I thought … I didn’t want to watch our child die, Max.”
“You won’t have to.”
“My sister was so young when it took her. It was horrible. It killed me to see it happen to her, to watch her just get weaker. I couldn’t have gone through it with our baby.”
His heart burned for her, her pain so real, so much a part of him, that he felt it all the way in his bones. “I didn’t know you’d been through that.”
“That was why …” She took a gulp of air. “That was why it was so important to me to know. I needed to prepare myself. I couldn’t just be blindsided with something like that. I don’t know if there would ever have been a way to be really prepared for it … but knowing now. Oh, it’s such a relief.”
She pulled back and started to wipe the moisture from her tearstained face. Her nose was red, her eyes swollen, and still he wanted her so much it was physically painful to hold himself back. Seeing the intensity of her love for their child only increased his desire for her.
He cupped the back of her head, stroking his thumb over her silky, strawberry locks. “No matter what, we would have made it. There’s no way we could love our baby more or less than we do. But I’m very glad that we don’t have to worry about that.”
“Me, too.”
Her arms were still linked around his neck and she very slowly moved her hands so that her fingers were twined through his hair. She moved them slowly, sliding them through, her touch sending shock waves of hot pleasure rippling through him. It was such a simple touch. In general he would have said there wasn’t anything erotic about it. Except in this moment, with this woman, it was the single most erotic sensation he could ever remember feeling.
