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And maybe this was one first date where she could reveal, because, in that second, it didn’t feel as if they’d only just met. Her eyes were looking straight into his, the sun blocked out by his presence, it didn’t feel as if there were a million barriers between them—it felt as if they were one, as if she were looking at a man she’d always known, just hadn’t really met yet.
‘What?’ Luca pushed, just a touch too soon, the brave leap she was about to take thwarted by impatience, and Meg recoiled back into herself, shaking her head as if to clear it, stunned at how close she had come to letting him in—letting anyone in.
‘I’d prefer not to say.’
‘You confuse me, Meg. One minute you are so strong, so sure, yet the next …’ He gave a helpless shrug. ‘You are very complicated, yes?’
‘Yes.’
It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, perhaps a small admission, a revelation, but when there was none forthcoming Luca, surprisingly, graciously conceded. ‘Perhaps we need to get to know each other even better,’ Luca suggested. ‘Maybe one day isn’t enough for us?’
‘Maybe,’ Meg gulped.
‘So …’ his voice was slow and measured, cautious this time as he approached ‘… will you stay a little longer? More than just this day?’ His face was moving in closer as she toyed with her answer, but he didn’t wait to hear it. ‘Maybe this will help you decide.’
She’d been so sure he was about to kiss her, so absolutely sure, it was all she could think about, so when his hand lightly dusted her stomach, when his warm fingers brushed the gap between her shorts and top, her body tightened in delicious confusion. Meg could almost hear the reverse sirens sounding in her brain as it instructed her neural pathways to move their guard, that she was being attacked from a different angle, but even as her stomach tightened in reflex Luca changed tack, his mouth moving in, and Meg closed her eyes as his hand snaked around the back of her head. He moved a fraction closer, his breath warm on her cheekbone, making her wait, her lips twitching in nervous expectation, anticipating the feel of his mouth on hers, her breath held in her lungs as so slowly he moved in, but nothing in her imagination could ever rival the true feel of him, the heat of his mouth when it met hers. Like a reflex action her lips parted, his kiss as direct as his approach to her had been, his tongue sliding in offering a simultaneous taste of champagne and power.
Such power, his kiss utterly potent, making mockery of any past efforts, turning the few men she had dated into mere boys as his skilled mouth searched hers and his arms wrapped fiercely around her body. For ever he kissed her, drenching her with his passion, banishing reticence, pressing himself so hard against her it was as if they were one person, his lips first paying her mouth the most thorough of attention, then blazing a trail down her neck, kissing her exposed shoulder deeply, his tongue moving up to the base of her neck and then back again. It was to die for, so erotic, so, so shatteringly sexy Meg had to remind herself to breathe.
As Luca’s hand cupped her bottom he pressed her heated groin into him, his erection wedged against her. It was Meg kissing him now, hungry lips meeting his scented neck, tasting Luca’s warm flesh as her fingers knotted in his hair—the salt of his skin on her tongue, his cologne filling her nostrils as his other hand moved to the front, the pad of his thumb plying her swollen nipple through her top. With each measured move he spun her ever faster, whirring her mind, her body, into one giddy blur—his hands touching her where her body needed it, before Meg even knew it herself. How easy it would be to just let go, to give in and follow to where he was taking her, to let this vortex consume her, but so ingrained was her control, so fearful was she of losing it, that with supreme effort Meg pulled back, the ground coming up to meet her as she jumped off at the last moment, staring at him with stunned, fearful eyes as the world carried on spinning.
‘We can’t!’ The words she gasped out were more directed at herself than Luca; she was stunned at what had just taken place, at her body’s perilous response to him, but Luca’s reply just confused her further.
‘We won’t,’ he murmured, moving in, kissing her again, only more tenderly now. ‘We wouldn’t,’ he said between breathless mouthfuls. ‘Not here … not somewhere so public. Now, we just kiss.’
Just kiss!
His comfort offered no solace. If, for Luca, that was just a kiss, then what would it be like to be made love to by him, if that was what he could do to her with his mouth …? Meg’s mind begged quiet, needed him to stop, her ingrained restraint so violently compromised it actually scared her.
‘Please, Luca …’
Something in her voice reached him, his mouth stilling, those black eyes surprisingly tender as he stared down at her. ‘I have upset you?’
‘No …’ She was biting down on her lip in an effort to stop crying, every emotion she’d ever suppressed clamouring for freedom as somehow Luca unleashed her. ‘It’s just too soon …’ Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding, for Luca to realise that it wasn’t sex she was talking about here. ‘It’s too soon to be feeling like this!’
‘Then stay,’ Luca said simply, holding her in his arms, only more tenderly now, letting her catch her breath as everything calmed down. As the world came back into focus, almost the same as when she’d left it … only somehow different now.
‘Now, I’ll take you to the beach.’ After a few moments in Luca’s arms, when still Meg hadn’t responded to his suggestion, Luca decided on a change of scene and Meg was surprised how relieved she felt that their date wasn’t over yet. But, as nice as he could be when he remembered, as engaging and charming as he was without even trying, every now and then Meg was reminded of his station in life—Luca Fierezza was so thoroughly spoiled, so impossibly arrogant at times, sometimes Meg honestly thought he was joking. He wasn’t!
‘Niroli has the most beautiful beaches,’ Luca elaborated, offering his hand to help her up. ‘I don’t have my bathers with me.’
‘Bathers?’
‘A swimming costume,’ Meg attempted, but Luca screwed up his nose at the Australianism.
‘They are horrible words—I like women to wear bikinis! Come,’ he said impatiently as Meg started to clear up the picnic. ‘Just leave it.’
‘You can’t just leave it! What about the blanket, the basket.?’ Meg insisted, but Luca had other ideas, striding off towards the car and clearly expecting her to follow.
‘If they want it, then they can come and find it!’
‘What’s wrong?’As Meg climbed into the car, almost immediately she realised something was up, Luca frowning into the phone as he checked his messages.
‘I’m not sure,’ was Luca’s distracted reply, his face rigid as he replayed his voicemail message, before finally he turned around and faced her. ‘I have to go back to the casino. It would appear I am needed.’
‘That’s fine.’ So riddled with doubt was Meg, she was sure he was making it up, sure that her little exposé before must have put him off, but, forcing a smile, she tried not to let her disappointment show as they drove towards the casino in silence. When he didn’t elaborate further, didn’t suggest that they meet up later, Meg could sit on her hands no longer.
‘Luca.’ Taking a deep breath, Meg decided to bite the bullet, almost managed to convince herself that she was imagining the sudden tension between them. It was only since the phone call the mood had changed—maybe he was worried about work. ‘Tomorrow, why don’t we—?’
‘Let’s just wait and see, shall we?’ Luca snapped out his response, lifted his hand from the steering wheel and flicked away her attempt. For Meg it was like being slapped, her face burning as he declined her brave offer, her voice when it came again as tense and as strained as the expression he was wearing.
‘Would you be able to drop me off at one of the beaches …?’ She didn’t even get to finish, Luca flicking on the indicator and pulling over before the sentence was even over, and for Meg it was the final straw, everything that had been before evaporated into thin air as she opened the passenger door and stepped out, the atmosphere so suddenly vile, she didn’t even bother to say goodbye….
And neither did Luca.
CHAPTER SIX
‘YOU’RE SURE?’ A muscle was pounding in Luca’s cheek as Dario fiddled with buttons and the grainy CCTV footage came up on the screen.
‘Here we see the girls looking at the jewellery, now she is handling it—the staff kept a close eye on them, of course.’ Luca didn’t say anything, his black eyes narrowing, watching as Meg held the earrings in her hand, then handed them to her friend, who held them up to her a moment before handing them back to the assistant. ‘Here, four hours later, the footage isn’t as good—the main camera was on the front desk—but you see she came back with the man she had been drinking with in the gaming room and asked to see the jewels again. This is when the man she was with suddenly collapsed.’
Luca snarled. ‘It was a distraction technique; a ruse to keep the main camera on the front desk and distract the staff.’
‘No.’ Dario shook his head, extremely experienced in all aspects of casino security; he was one of the few people who could disagree with Luca and get away with it. ‘I also thought it might be a distraction technique, but I have checked with the hospital—he is in the coronary care unit after suffering a major heart attack.’ The security chief’s words were delivered in rapid Italian, but his voice was nonchalant—theft was a common occurrence in the casino, but with the security so tight it was quickly and easily dealt with. ‘Here you see her more clearly now. I don’t think she planned it, just saw the opportunity and got greedy.’
Even though he’d been told the facts, even though Dario rarely made a mistake, still he hoped it would be Jasmine that would appear on screen, that somehow Dario had mixed up the two women, but despite the grainy footage, even if Meg’s face never fully came into view, there was no mistaking the unique, stunning top she had worn last night. Luca sucked in a deep breath, his teeth gritting together. What the hell did she have to go and do that for? He’d have given her anything she wanted, anything at all. Hell, he’d been so smitten, if she’d wanted some damn jewellery he’d have bought it for her without batting an eye, and now here she was, a woman he’d actually thought different, a woman he’d respected, showing her true colours—stealing his own family jewels.
It made him sick—sick to the stomach, yet he was also filled with a strange, hollow sadness, not just for what he had lost, but because he knew what he had to do. There was a strict one-strike policy at the casino, with no exceptions—even if he had thought for a short while that this Meg was one.
‘You’ve spoken to the friend?’
‘When we searched the room. Apparently Miss Donovan was in and out last night.’ Dario gave a shrug. ‘The jewels were wrapped up in the top Miss Donovan was wearing and had been stuffed in the backpack—we’ve got all the evidence we need to call the police.’
Luca stared at the frozen image on the screen, trying to relate the deceitful, shady character to the woman he thought he had glimpsed, the woman he had held in his arms and kissed, the proud, dignified woman he had wanted to get to know.
The woman who had duped him.
‘Do it, then.’ Luca stared one more time at the image frozen on the screen, then gave a terse nod as, on his command, Dario picked up the telephone. ‘Tell the police you will let them know when she returns to the casino.’ It was said entirely without feeling, his orders exactly as they would be for any other common thief who attempted to get one over on Luca Fierezza, but if Dario had looked up as Luca stalked towards the door he might have noticed the rigid shoulders and bunched fists as his boss made to leave the room. He did look up, though, as Luca turned and gave one unusual final instruction. ‘Page me when she arrives—this I want to see.’
Luca was used to burying himself in work, the casino just one of his many business ventures, each one demanding scrupulous attention to detail, ruthlessness and resolute indifference, so why couldn’t he concentrate? Why was it that, over and over, he kept staring at his phone, checking his pager?
‘ConcentrarsV. He snapped the order to himself, answered a red-flagged email, and with a few strokes of the keyboard gave the order to fire one of his CEOs in the UK as well as ordering an internal audit on one of his growing business ventures on the Gold Coast in Australia….
Where Meg was from….
What was it with her? Dio! She wasn’t the first woman he’d met who’d shown her true colours and it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d had to have someone arrested, so why, no matter how hard he tried not to think about her, did every road, every thought he had lead to Meg?
Burying his head in his hands, Luca sucked in air and, closing his eyes, he gave into a rare moment of introspection.
She wasn’t the problem, Luca decided; it was the rather confronting talk he’d had with his grandfather, King Giorgio, just a few days before that was making her attractive—making this thief who came in the night the ultimate forbidden fruit.
“Stay out of trouble, Luca.’ The king’s voice, though weak from his declining health, hadn’t wavered as he’d delivered his order for Luca to keep his nose clean—to stand up and face the fact that he was a potential heir to the Niroli throne.
And though he’d been born a prince, though technically the chance he might one day rule Niroli had been explained to him as he’d grown up, deep down it had never really seemed plausible. Two years ago he’d been way down in line to the throne—the king had had, as the saying went, an heir and a spare: his first-born son, Antonio, and then Luca’s father, Paulo, and any possibility of one day ruling Niroli had seemed far away in the distance.
Then the accident had happened.
Two years ago the royal house of Niroli had been thrown into turmoil when a boating accident had claimed the life of the immediate heirs. Antonio and his wife Francesca, along with Luca’s father, Paulo, had been tragically killed. While any family would have struggled to come to terms with such loss, for a royal family it threw up more issues, which, with each passing day, were becoming more pressing.
Since the accident, King Giorgio’s health had deteriorated rapidly—a proud man, he did not want to rule from his sickbed and was determined to provide his people with a fitting heir before his abdication. The people of Niroli had mourned along with the royal family, had suffered with them through the bad times, and now it was time to pave way for the new. Summoning the family members from around the globe, the king had informed them of his plans to find Niroli’s new ruler from amongst them—one in keeping with The Rules, a strict set of orders that the ruler must live by.
Raking his hands through his jet-black hair, Luca tried and failed to imagine himself as King.
He loved his country.
He’d die for his county—and that wasn’t an idle statement: the neighbouring island of Mont Avellana had once been under Niroli’s rule, but after a bitter battle, control had been lost and it had become a republic. Even today, there was still rivalry and resentment. Unlike the extinct volcanoes that existed on Niroli, there were grumblings of discord that could spill over at any given time—and Luca knew, without a flicker of doubt, he’d be in the front line if he was called.
Yes, Luca sighed, he’d die for his country, but could he live for it?
Live only for it?
‘No more scandal, Luca.’ The king had waved a thin, gnarled finger at him—that one gesture, that short sentence, summing up a colourful life. Luca’s teenage years had been mired in petty crime and scandal not befitting a royal prince; it was a life the tabloids had gleefully dissected over the years and like vultures still they wanted more scandal—scandal that somehow Luca had always provided. ‘Niroli has given you a good life—fast cars, beautiful women—and over and over our beloved people have forgiven your mistakes, always loved you, so now it is time for you to pay your debt, to put that life behind you once and for all. Now is the time for you to maybe become more than a man—you are in the running to be King. So, think of settling down, winding down your business interests and keeping more suitable company. You owe it not just to me, but to our people, to stay out of trouble, Luca, to give them something back, something they can enjoy—a wedding, perhaps!’
‘You’re telling me to marry?’ Luca couldn’t believe what he was hearing—couldn’t believe what was being asked of him—but the king had stood his ground.
‘I’m telling you that your reckless days are over—that a suitable bride might prove a better escort than some of the women you choose to date. The people of Niroli need to see that you have grown up and a good wife would be a fitting gesture.’ As Luca had opened his mouth to put his point the king overrode him, his frail voice gaining momentum, reminding Luca, even if he didn’t need it, that this wasn’t a grandfatherly chat—Giorgio was, for now, still King! ‘I am not asking you, Luca, I am ordering you. I do not want to open a newspaper again and see a slur with your name attached to it. Those days are gone—for ever!’
Staring blindly out at his luxurious office, the king’s words still buzzing in his ears, Luca felt the prison gates slowly closing behind him. He glimpsed afuture he couldn’t fathom: his business interests slowly wound down to accommodate a more royal schedule; performing his duties with a beautiful nameless face on his arm. A privileged lifestyle many would hanker for, but for Luca it felt as if he were about to be delivered a life sentence.
‘You were born for this,’ Luca said sharply to himself, heaving aside his doubts, forcing himself out of his introspection and facing facts. He couldn’t help Meg—even if he wanted to, his hands were tied. It wasn’t just the king who had spoken, but history itself! As if the first of The Rules of the Royal House of Niroli had been decreed with him in mind:
The ruler of Niroli must be a moral leader for the people and is bound to keep order in the Royal House. Any act that brings the monarchy into disrepute through immoral conduct or criminal activity will rule a contender out of the succession to the throne.
There were ten rules the leader of Niroli must abide by, but this was the first—and this was the one that Luca had failed on many occasions. His playboy reputation was legendary on the island, and back when he was a teenager he’d had a few run-ins with the police himself, arrested for petty theft and several other misdemeanours. And though charges had never been laid, and technically there was no criminal record—the people of Niroli’s memories were long. As the king had pointed out, Niroli had been more than good to him and now they needed a leader.
Now it was Luca’s time to abide by the rules.
Meg was on her own.
So why, instead of turning off his pager and getting back to work, did he jump when it bleeped? Why, when he was informed by Dario that Meg was approaching the casino, did he head down towards the entrance?
Why did this woman still move him so?
‘Signorina Donovan?’
So deep in her own thoughts was Meg as she wandered back from the beach that the police cars screeching alongside, lights and sirens blazing, at first jolted rather than alarmed her. She was sure there must have been an accident, an incident taking place perhaps, certainly something that didn’t concern her—until they said her name….
‘Alex?’ It was her first thought. The most reliable, trustworthy man she knew hadn’t turned up yesterday and now the police were calling her by name. Meg’s heart lurched with all the fear of the innocent—something terrible must have happened to Alex. ‘Is he okay?’
But her question was never answered, instead she was shoved against a wall, her head hitting the rough stone. Pain coursed through her. Merciless hands ruthlessly searched her, groping her, pressing against her shorts, shamelessly lingering a little too long over her flimsy top, and Meg felt her fear, her panic, subside into revulsion.into dread.
‘Get off!’ Pale lips attempted to get the words out, blood was trickling down from her head. ‘Get your hands off me.’ But it was like being trapped in a nightmare, her mouth forming the words, her brain screaming them, only no sound was coming out, like some horror movie on mute. She could feel inappropriate hands still groping her, still touching her, still violating her as people gathered and watched. She could smell the stale breath of the police officer as the crowd called out insults in Italian.
‘Don’t!’ It was all she could manage, the one word that did come out, her slender hand clasping the fat, podgy fingers as they slid up her thigh, her lips snarling in disgust, distaste as she saw his leer, the beads of sweat on his upper lip. Meg decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her fear, wouldn’t give the gathering crowd the show they so clearly desired by fighting with this brute. Instead she stopped struggling, just leant against the wall with her eyes closed till it was over, till she felt the cool of the handcuffs as they were snapped on her wrists and she was unceremoniously spun around and marched towards one of the waiting police cars. The ideal world she had so briefly glimpsed just a few hours ago was suddenly frightening and confusing. First Luca’s brutal rejection, now flashing lights and sirens and jeers from the crowd, but she refused to cry, refused to let anyone see how much this was hurting her, refused to look at anyone—until her eyes caught sight of him….
Luca Fierezza standing there, despite the forty-degree heat, impassive and cool, watching the proceedings from a slight distance, his face unreadable as he registered her plight. Meg’s first instinct was to cry out to him, to ask him for assistance. She knew somehow that he was the one person who could help her, but even as she opened her mouth to call out to him she choked her plea back. The black eyes staring at her held none of the warmth she had briefly witnessed, the mouth that had kissed her was now pressed in the same firm, grim line it had been when she’d left him, and somewhere deep inside Meg knew, just knew this was his doing, knew in that instant that he wasn’t going to help her.
Well, she wouldn’t let him see her pain—wouldn’t let him know any of her agony. Whatever twisted game he was playing, she wasn’t going to partake in it! And though the fight in her might have appeared to have died—her body seemingly weak and pliable as the police officers roughly shepherded her into one of the cars—inside she was regrouping, stronger perhaps than she had ever been in her life. Pressed against the door, she pulled her thighs away so there was no contact with her captor, closed her mind to his angry words. Meg hunched herself forward, watched as blood dripped from her face to her legs, and ran a dry tongue over her bruised and swollen mouth. Taking slow, deep breaths as the car careered through Niroli at breakneck speed, she tried to somehow regain control when there appeared to be none.
She would call the embassy—whatever mess she was in it would soon be sorted. There were rules for this sort of thing, procedures in place for tourists in trouble abroad—she had nothing to fear.
Despite the direness of her predicament, Meg felt her fear abate a notch, the steely grit that had got her through her difficult, difficult life coming to the fore when she needed it most, but it wavered a touch as she recalled Luca’s hostile stare—the man she had almost trusted, nearly let into her life, causing her more pain than the injuries and indignity she had so recently suffered.
Well, she’d learnt her lesson.
For the first time she’d let down her guard, trusted that the world could be kind and gentle if only she let it, and look what had happened….
Never again.
Meg held her head high now, stared out of the window as they turned a corner and the Niroli palace came into view, its impressive walls burnt orange in the late afternoon sun, its beauty mocking her as the car halted and she was roughly pulled out, the sight of the palace her last image of the outside world as she was frogmarched into the police station and forced to endure another degrading search before she was bundled into a tiny, dimly lit cell.
No one would hurt her again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE DESERVED IT.
Scribbling his signature on a thick pile of correspondence, Luca tried and failed to put the image of Meg from his mind. Since her arrest, Luca had made several impromptu checks on various areas of the casino, taken care of endless phone calls he’d long been putting off, and, for the first time since he’d taken the business over, cleared his overflowing correspondence tray, but nothing he did managed to fully erase the image of Meg’s stricken face as the police had led her to the car.
Where had he seen that expression before? His mind started to drift, to search the recesses of his mind in an attempt to match the image he was seeking, but Luca abruptly halted it there.
Forget about her, Luca demanded of himself. Forget about the wretched thief, the woman who could have brought him shame and scandal when he needed it the least. Glancing at his watch, Luca saw that it was nearly midnight. Glad that this vile day was nearly over and with a shake of his head, he stood up, deciding to head to his suite and shower and change, then head to the bar, end his wretchedness with a stiff drink and perhaps some company. Only despite his best efforts, still Luca’s thoughts reluctantly turned to her….
She hadn’t even put up a fight, Luca scorned—if she’d been innocent, surely she’d have been enraged, hissing and spitting like a kitten. No, it was almost as if she’d been expecting it, had known what the police were there for.
‘A call for you, sir.’ Despite the lateness of the hour, his secretary buzzed the intercom—her day not over until Luca discharged her.
‘No more calls,’ Luca snapped. ‘I’m finished for the day—you can go home now.’
‘It’s Her Royal Highness.’
And if it had been any other minute of any other day, Luca would have taken the call without hesitation, his mother, Laura, the one woman whose calls weren’t screened, who was usually put through without hesitation—just not this time.
‘I said no calls,’ Luca barked. But instead of marching out of the office, instead of heading to the bar where it would be so, so much safer to go, he sat back down in the darkness, black bile churning in his stomach as a piece of this reluctant puzzle slotted into place….
Unwelcome, seldom-visited memories pelted his mind like a sudden hailstorm—a storm so violent, so forceful, so rapid in its arrival that there was no time to seek cover, no time to shield himself from its onslaught, so that all he could do was wait, sit at his desk with his head in his hands and ride out the storm in the hope it would quickly pass.
It didn’t.
