The Prince's Love-Child (The Royal House of Cacciatore 2)

‘Indeed it is,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And Guido is taking you to the mountains for your honeymoon?’

‘Yes, he is,’ she agreed steadily.

‘You did not long for a more traditional destination? Paris or Rome, perhaps?’

‘Oh, no. I want to get to know my new country,’ she said staunchly. She couldn’t tell Gianferro that those cities were for ever tainted with memories of how it had been between them.

Then it had been sex and laughter, and a determination on her part to play the independent role required of her—but it had all backfired on her. And nothing had changed in that regard. She was still playing a role—except that now it just happened to be a different one.

‘And after the honeymoon?’ Gianferro’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘What then?’

‘We haven’t decided.’ Or rather, they hadn’t discussed it—like so much else. She bit her lip as she glanced across the table to find Guido’s black eyes on her.

He had been watching her, and saw her easy and laughing interaction with his brother change into a frozen look of froideur as she met his eyes. As if she was wishing herself a million miles away…

Well, you and me too, cara, he thought bitterly. The last thing in the world he wanted was to be incarcerated here on Mardivino, back in the whole damned strait-jacket of formality and ritual.

But it had to be.

Or did it?

Were her surroundings only adding to her feeling of entrapment? Should he reassure her on that score—tell her that their stay here need only be temporary if that was what she desired?

But he felt the cold pulse of anger as she turned her head away from him, as if he were invisible. Well, if that was the way she wanted to play it—if she intended to be stubborn—then she would soon discover that he could be stubborn, too…

Unseen beneath the damask tablecloth, Lucy’s hand crept to cover the faint swell of her belly, willing herself not to succumb to the tide of emotion which was washing over her. Was it the rushing of her hormones which was making her feel so vulnerable? If so, she must be sure not to show it. Because he would not care—and why should he?

It was pointless to look for a soft response in a man like Guido. He had never behaved in that way before, so why the hell should he change now?

She watched him rise to his feet, resplendent in dark morning suit, his black hair ruffled and his olive skin gleaming. He was coming towards her, and despite everything her heart turned over. Why were emotions so impervious to logic? Why the hell did love have to leap out and grab you so inappropriately? Make you want to care for someone even though instinct told you there would be nothing coming back?

He gave a short laugh as he saw her face grow pale, and his words were so silky-soft that they could be heard by no one else.

‘At least try to maintain the charade of happiness on your wedding day, cara. Your mother will be distressed if you do otherwise. Come, Lucy.’ He held his hand out for hers, and as she looked up at him his eyes glittered like deadly black ice. ‘It is time to leave for our honeymoon.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘SO TELL me, Lucy.’ The black eyes glittered with challenge. ‘What do a couple do on honeymoon when they aren’t engaged in the rather more traditional pastime?’

From beneath her sunhat Lucy looked at him, and despite her intention not to, a shiver of pure longing ran through her. How different he looked from the man with whom she had exchanged her vows. Transformed from a formal and dark-suited elegance to a totally laid-back look, like a man happily at home on the beach.

He wore a pair of faded cut-off denims, which showed hard, muscular legs, and a thin cotton shirt which was flapping open, giving her occasional and distracting glimpses of his hair-roughened chest.

His mocking eyes were still challenging her for an answer, and she knew then that she could not keep running from the truth. She answered like the old Lucy—that self-deluding idiot who had thought she could match this man in the emotional detachment department.

The old Lucy would have met that challenge head-on. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’re frustrated?’ she questioned.

‘Well, aren’t you?’ he shot back.

‘I have other things on my mind.’

/> ‘Such as?’

She pointed to the book which was lying open on her lap. ‘You should try reading some time.’

‘So should you.’ His mouth twisted into an odd kind of smile. ‘That’s been open at the same page for the last hour!’

‘I’ve been admiring the scenery.’