‘I think that will be a little easier when you are here. You shall have all the information you need.’
She ignored that. ‘That’s not good enough, Nico,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’d like you to fax me some statistics about numbers of tourists, their accommodation requirements and so on—can you please arrange that for me as soon as possible?’
Even at school he hadn’t been spoken to in such a stern and bossy way! He should feel righteous indignation at her insubordination, and yet he had never heard anything quite so tantalising in his life. How great the pleasure would be of subduing her with the skilful touch of his lips! And if statistics were what it took to fly her out to Mardivino, then she could have all the damned statistics she wanted! Staring out of the palace window at the intense blue of the sea, Nico gave a slow and predatory smile. ‘Very well.’
‘I will fly out at the beginning of next week.’
‘Tell me when and I will arrange a plane. In fact,’ he added, on a low note of delight, ‘I will fly you to Mardivino myself.’
Now there was triumph in her voice. ‘Oh, no, you won’t, Nico,’ she said softly. ‘Once was enough!’
‘You are criticising my flying ability?’
‘No, I am resisting your efforts to control me. You want my expertise and you’ll get it, but you will be treated in exactly the same way as any other client. There will be no preferential treatment—not for you, and certainly not for me. I will take a scheduled airline flight, thank you very much, and I will add the cost to my bill.’
For a moment he was speechless, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. She was refusing his offer! To be flown openly to Mardivino by the youngest Prince of that principality!
‘Oh, and one more thing, Nico?’
She was making more requests? Through the haze of disbelief and thwarted desire he felt a glimmer of reluctant admiration for her tenacity and guts. ‘Go on.’
‘I trust that my accommodation requirements will be totally above board? I will require a room for me, and for me alone, and if you renege
on that I will take the first available flight home and you really will have to find someone else.’
‘Very well,’ he said coldly. ‘And now I will give you the number of my mobile.’
‘Go on, then.’
He had never felt so frustrated. Did she not realise the honour he was according her—giving her access to him whenever she wanted? He had been about to tell her not to abuse the privilege, but now his lips snapped closed. Clearly she didn’t even see it as a privilege!
‘Jusque la`, cherie,’ he murmured.
Momentarily she was confused by the sudden switch in language. ‘I thought you usually used Italian?’
He watched a speedboat sweeping across the bay. ‘It depends. Italian is the language of love—although my French and Spanish cousins would disagree—and I am not feeling particularly loving towards you at the moment, Gabriella.’
She couldn’t let this one pass. Oh, no. ‘I think you’re in danger of confusing love with sex, Nico,’ she said quietly, and put the phone down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘AND just where are you proposing she stay, Nicolo?’
‘At the palace, of course.’
‘No.’ Gianferro’s voice was flat and unequivocal. ‘I will not tolerate one of your mistresses staying here in the Palace.’
Nico didn’t react. Not straight away. Over the years he had learnt that considered argument was better than a hot-headed blaze of outrage—especially with his eldest brother. Biting back his words went against his nature but he had learned to school himself in diplomacy when dealing with Gianferro. For Gianferro was the heir. The glittering eldest son over whom the double-edged sword of leadership hung by only a whisper, since their father, the King, had lain sick in his palace suite for many months now.
In a way, Gianferro had both the best and the worst of the Royal world—the heady aphrodisiac of power, coupled with the stultifying burden of responsibility. The eldest son was seen as the most privileged, but Nico knew that despite how the outside world perceived it, there was no such thing as the perfect position in a Royal family of three brothers.
Guido, the middle brother, was currently living abroad—and middle brothers were notoriously touchy about being looked over and ignored. Even in so-called normal families they had difficulty establishing a legitimate role. It explained why he had left Mardivino as quickly as he could, making for himself the comfortable life of international playboy.
Nico, as the youngest, should by rights have been the spoilt baby of the family—except things had not turned out that way.
His very birth had heralded the illness that had killed his mother—and ever after his father’s pride in him had always been tempered by sadness and melancholy.
Gianferro had almost stepped into the role of father—if such a thing was possible when the age gap was only seven years. He had always looked out for and fiercely protected Nico, and as the years had passed had been reluctant to lose that role of mentor. Nico had had to fight every bit of the way for independence.