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She put Noah firmly from her mind and turned to the old guy with a friendly smile and a soft, “Thank you.”
He had thick white hair, wore a smoking jacket and sported a Colonel Sanders goatee. “Count Dietrich VonDelft,” he said. “Her Highness Adrienne is my second cousin once removed.”
She gave the old fellow her name, explained her relationship to the Bravo-Calabretti family and told him how much she was enjoying her holiday weekend in Montedoro. He said she was very lovely, a breath of fresh air—at which point she started suspecting he might be putting a move on her.
On her other side, Dami chuckled. That gave her an excuse to turn to him. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew exactly what the count had been up to. She chatted with Dami about nothing in particular for a few minutes. And then the first course was served.
Through the meal, she tried not to look at her brother and not to get too involved in any conversations with “Richie,” as the count insisted she call him. He actually was kind of sweet, but he leaned too close and he looked at her as though he wouldn’t mind helping her out of her so-charming “frock.” It was kind of flattering, if also a bit creepy. She did want to learn about lovemaking, but not from a guy old enough to be her grandfather.
After the meal, they all returned to the Blue Room, where after-dinner drinks were served and Prince Evan gave a nice speech about how wonderful it was to have his family around him on Thanksgiving night. There was music, a pianist and a singer who performed Broadway standards and holiday tunes, but not very loud, so everyone could visit. Lucy met more Bravo-Calabrettis. She managed to steer clear of her big brother, which was great. But then there was Count Richie. He seemed to constantly pop up out of nowhere, grinning flirtatiously through his goatee, every time she turned around. She treated him politely every time and then slipped away at the first opportunity.
Around eleven-thirty the party began to break up. Princess Adrienne reminded them that the annual Thanksgiving Candlelight Mass would be held at midnight in the St. Catherine of Sienna Chapel in the palace courtyard.
Dami took her hand and wrapped it around his arm and they followed along with the others, outside and down the wide stone stairs to the chapel. It was a beautiful service, though Lucy hardly understood a word of it. She enjoyed the flowing beauty of the priests’ robes, the spicy smell of the incense, the glow of all the candles and the beautiful voices of the men and women in the choir.
When it was over, Dami led her back to the Blue Room, where more refreshments were served. They lingered for a while, visiting with his two youngest sisters, Genevra and Rory.
Finally, at about one-thirty, he walked her upstairs.
* * *
Damien stood with Lucy at the door to her room.
The hallway, narrower than the one outside his apartment, was lit by wall sconces turned down to a soft glow.
“I don’t want you to go,” Lucy said in that enchanting way she had of simply saying whatever popped into her mind.
He felt the same, reluctant to leave her, and that struck him as odd. He would see her in the morning after all. She still had her hand wrapped snugly around his arm. She let go—but then she caught his fingers. Her touch was cool and somehow wonderful. “Come in. Please. Just for a moment.”
He knew what waited on the other side of the door. A single room with a bed, a chair or two, an armoire and maybe a small desk. It seemed inappropriate for him to go in there with her, and he found his reluctance absurd. Just because there was a bed didn’t mean they had to use it.
He said, though he did know that he shouldn’t, “Just for a minute or two—why not?”
“Yes!” She pulled him in.
It was just as he’d pictured it. Her bags and packages from the Thanksgiving Bazaar were piled atop the armoire. The maid had been in and turned down the bed.
She stood on the rug in the center of the room, her hands behind her, looking very young. “I should have something to offer you....”
He gave her a sideways look and a half smile. “How about a chair?”
Both hands appeared from behind her and waved around a bit. “Take your choice.” He chose the one under the small window. She sat in the other, crossed her slim legs and smoothed her lacy skirt. “I had an amazing time tonight.”
“You always have an amazing time.”
She tipped her head from side to side as though reciting some rhyming verse in her head. “You’re right. I do. I can’t help it. Especially now, here in Montedoro, where I feel like I’m living in my own private fairy tale.”
“Complete with a lecherous old aristocrat in an ancient smoking jacket.”
She laughed, a happy little sound. He thought of V for some reason. Of the differences between Luce and V. V would have been brassed off to have some old man following her around trying to flirt with her. Not Lucy. Lucy had been patient with Richie. Patient and kind. “He was actually very sweet. But a little bit...relentless.”
“A little bit?”
“Okay, a lot. But I liked him, though, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“I know you didn’t.” His own voice surprised him. Too low. Too...intimate.
She almost smiled, her soft lips pursing just the slightest bit, so the dimple in her left cheek started to happen but then didn’t quite. He stared at the white flesh of her throat and wondered what it would feel like to kiss her there, to scrape that softness lightly with his teeth.
And that was when he knew he needed to get out. Now. He stood.
A tender little “Oh!” escaped her and she jumped up, as well. “You’re going already?”
“I really should.” Something was the matter with him. He seemed unable to master his own voice. First too low, now too stiff.
“But I...” She hesitated.
“What?” Now he sounded ridiculously hopeful. What was this? He hardly knew himself—his voice not his own, his heart pounding away in the cage of his chest as though hoping somehow to break free. You’d think he was twelve again, surviving his first crush.
She settled back onto the heels of those naughty satin shoes. “You’re right. I have to let you go.” Regretful. Resigned. And then she smiled, her gamine face lighting up from within. “I mean, you’ve been amazing and there’s always tomorrow.”
His shoes were moving, carrying him with them. Suddenly he was standing an inch away from her. She gazed up at him and he saw there were gold and green striations caught in the velvet brown of her eyes. “Yes,” he heard himself say, “tomorrow...”
And then he was doing what he had no intention of doing, lifting a hand, brushing a finger down the side of that white throat, bending close to her, capturing that soft, slightly parted mouth.
So good. Her breath tasted of apples, fresh. Sweet. He touched her lower lip with his tongue, testing the warmth and the wonderful softness.
She let out a throaty little sound.
And then she lifted her slim arms and wrapped them around his neck. He followed suit, sliding his hands over the dusky, soft lace in the curve of her waist, gathering her in, deepening the kiss that was not supposed to happen.
Her body fit against him, slim and warm and soft. Her breasts pressed into his chest.
So good. Too good.
He felt what he wasn’t ever going to feel with her: heat. Tightness. He was starting to grow hard.
That did it. Arousal woke him from the trance that had somehow settled over him. Slowly, gently, with great care, he clasped her slender waist again, lifted his mouth from hers and pushed back from her just enough that she wouldn’t feel him growing thicker and harder against her belly.
She gazed up at him, eyes dreamy, still smiling. “Um. Good night,” she whispered.
“Night, Luce.” Miraculously, he had regained command of his own voice. He sounded so calm, completely relaxed, in full command of himself, though he was none of those things at that moment.
He let her go and turned for the door, and he didn’t stop moving until he was on the other side of it and it was firmly shut behind him.
* * *
Alone in his apartment, Damien poured himself a last brandy.
His cell phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and saw it was V. He didn’t answer. There was no point in talking to her. She would only yammer at him as usual, saying all the things he’d heard a thousand times before. It was an endless loop with V, a train on a circular track going round and round. He refused to get back on that train. How clear could he make it? He was off the train and staying off.
But he did check his voice mail: three messages. All from V. He deleted each one before she got out more than a few annoyed, impatient words.
And then he set the phone on a side table and drank his brandy and told himself the weekend with Lucy needed to stop. He couldn’t afford to spend tomorrow and the next day with her. He would have to back out of the rest of their time together.
Somehow.
It had been a giant mistake, his clever plan to turn her down without hurting her tender feelings. It had become a trap for him, a trap of his own making. It was the problem of the bell that couldn’t be unrung, the cat out of the bag, the milk spilled on the ground.
She had started it, started the change in the way he thought of her. She’d done it when she’d asked him to make love to her. She’d put that impossible idea into his head and before he knew it, he was starting to see her in a whole different light. And now he couldn’t stop thinking of doing exactly what she’d asked him to do.
Now all of the things he liked best about her—the easy charm, the pleasure she took in every smallest thing, the complete lack of drama, her authenticity and straightforwardness, her kindness to old Dietrich—all those things worked as a snare for him.
She enchanted him.
Thoroughly.
He hadn’t missed the cold glances Noah kept giving him during dinner—and afterward. Noah did not approve of Damien spending so much time with his sweet baby sister.
Damien got that. And now that he’d started to see Lucy as a potential lover, he didn’t much approve of it, either. It wasn’t a good idea. If Dami and Lucy did end up in bed together, well, what then? Would a sweet, naive girl like Luce really be ready to simply enjoy the experience and then move on?
No. He couldn’t see it. And that meant that he had no right to keep on with this.
Somehow, tomorrow he had to find a way to let her know that their long weekend together was over after just one day.
* * *
Something wasn’t right with Damien, Lucy kept thinking after he left her room.
He’d acted so strangely. Jumping to his feet out of nowhere, telling her he had to go—and then stepping right up close and kissing her, a beautiful, sexy, romantic kiss. And then racing off as though he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
Talk about mixed signals. Just when he started acting as if maybe he could see her in a man/woman way after all, he’d yanked open the door and left her standing there with her lips all tingly from his kiss and her yearning arms empty. Something had definitely spooked him.
And come on, wasn’t it obvious what?
Noah.
Had to be. Those dark looks Noah had been sending her? No doubt he’d been sending them to Dami, too. Those looks must have gotten to Dami.
It wasn’t right. And Lucy was not putting up with it. She needed to fix the problem. And the more she considered the situation, the more it seemed clear that she needed to fix it tonight.
So she changed into jeans, a slouchy sweater and her favorite Chuck Taylor high-tops, and off she went, along one corridor and then another, down a couple of flights of stairs and yet another hallway to a side entrance where a uniformed guard took her name and entered it into his handheld device. Then, with a brisk bow, he opened the door for her and out she went into the middle of the Montedoran night.
It wasn’t that far of a walk to Alice’s villa in the adjacent ward of Monagalla. And she was moving fast, wanting to get there and get the confrontation over with. It wasn’t fun having it out with Noah. He was a great guy, but he had that little problem of being so sure he knew it all—including what was good for Lucy—even when he didn’t. There could be shouting.
Too bad. She’d fought long and hard for her independence and her big brother could not take it back from her now.
She found Alice’s villa easily enough. Her high-tops made no noise on the cobbled street. Lucy ran up the stone steps and stood in the glow from the iron fixture above the door, ringing the bell.
Nobody answered at first. Probably because it was after two in the morning. But she knew they were in there. Where else would they be?
Finally, after five rings, the door was drawn back. Michelle Thierry, Alice’s assistant and housekeeper, stood on the other side clutching her plain blue robe at the neck, her pale hair flattened on one side, looking half asleep.
Lucy almost felt guilty. Yeah, okay. She probably should have had it out with Noah earlier—like the first time he’d shot her one of those disapproving looks. Maybe she shouldn’t have spent the previous evening evading him. Two-thirty in the morning wasn’t exactly the best time for a family chat.
“Miss Lucy,” Michelle said, her voice brisk even though her eyelids drooped sleepily. “What a complete surprise. Is there an emergency?”
Too late to back down now. Lucy drew herself up. “Sort of—I mean, there is to me. I need to talk to my brother.”
Michelle blinked away the last cobwebs of sleep and stepped back. “Well, I’ll just go and wake him, why don’t I?”
“Thank you. That would be excellent.”
Michelle ushered her into the living area, with its fat, inviting sofas, comfortable chairs and beautiful antiques. “Do make yourself at home. I’ll tell him you’re here.”
“We already know. Thank you, Michelle,” said Alice from the doorway. She also wore a robe, a gorgeous red silk one painted with flowers and vines. Her brown hair was loose, tangled on her shoulders. Noah, in sweats, his hair looking blenderized and a scowl on his face, stood directly behind her. “Go back to bed,” Alice added softly to Michelle.
With a nod, the housekeeper left them.
“What the hell, Lucy?” Noah grumbled as soon as the three of them were alone.
Alice pulled him down onto the sofa beside her and asked Lucy, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
Lucy perched on a chair. “No. I just need to get a few things clear with my brother, that’s all. Then I’ll let you both go back to bed.”
Noah raked his hair with both hands and grumbled, “Is there some reason this couldn’t wait until morning?”
She ignored the question and demanded, “Did we or did we not have an agreement about who runs my life?”
He shook his head and muttered something unpleasant under his breath. Alice sent him a warning look, one he pretended not to catch.
Lucy let out a hard breath. “Well, since you’re not going to answer me, I’ll answer for you. We do have an agreement. I run my life and you don’t interfere.”
“Interfere? What? I didn’t—”
“Don’t say you didn’t, Noah. You know you did. You were giving me dirty looks all night long.”
He did more grumbling under his breath. Alice took his hand and twined her fingers with his, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t jump in to ease the tension, didn’t take his side just to please him. That Noah’s fiancée didn’t rush to appease him made Lucy love her all the more. Finally, he came out with it. “What’s going on with you and Damien?”
“Is that in any way your business?”
“Of course it’s my business. You’re my sister and I love you. And you said that you and Damien were just friends. He’s said that the two of you are just friends. But you weren’t acting like just friends tonight.”
She reminded herself that she had absolutely nothing to hide. “We are friends and we always will be and we’re spending the weekend together in a, er, dating kind of way.”
“A...dating kind of way?” Noah looked at her as though she’d lost her mind and stood in grave danger of never finding it again.
She hitched her chin higher. “That’s right. Dami and I are dating. For the weekend. We’re...finding out if we might want to, um, take it to the next level.” Okay, she had nothing to hide, but still. She wasn’t quite willing to admit that she’d asked Dami to be her first lover. No matter how she phrased that, she didn’t think it was the kind of thing her big brother needed to know.
