The Mediterranean Prince's Passion (The Royal House of Cacciatore 1)

The same sense of freedom that made people such fans of dangerous sports, she realised. It all made sense now. ‘I wouldn’t have reacted quite so angrily,’ she said, ‘if I’d known.’

A faint smile touched his lips. ‘No, I’m sure you wouldn’t. But in one way I’m glad you didn’t know. For once it was good to have someone behave…’ He shrugged his shoulders and gave a faint smile. ‘Well, normally, I guess.’ And that had not changed. He could never remember having such a candid conversation with a woman.

Her heart was thudding, her palms grown clammy with this new turn of developments. And he was doing it again—appealing to some soft inner core of her. But surely that would only complicate things.

Because what he said didn’t actually change anything. It made his actions more understandable, but his motivation remained the same. He had wanted sex with her, and that was what had happened. It might have been the most wonderful thing in her life so far, but she imagined that it was like that all the time for a man like Nico.

And the most fundamental fact of all could not be changed.

That he was a prince and she was just an ordinary young woman from the countryside. And unless she kept that to the forefront of her mind she was heading straight for heartbreak.

Nico drifted his eyes over her. She had drunk, he noted, very little—was that deliberate?—but she seemed less defensive than before. Nonetheless, instinct still told him that he must tread very carefully. He sensed that she was close to surrender, but one false move and he could blow it.

Later, when they were seated in the intimate interior of the luxury car, Ella waited breathlessly for a move that did not come. She was aware that her overriding feeling was one of disappointment. Stop it, she thought. Stop wishing for something that could only ever be bittersweet.

The car pulled up outside L’Etoile and he turned to her, his dark eyes glittering. ‘Shall we drive to some of the towns and villages on your list tomorrow?’ he suggested.

Ella nodded, her heart beating so hard that she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. ‘Okay.’

‘We’ll make a day of it,’ he said casually. ‘And I’ll bring a picnic.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘YOU know that Gianferro spoke to me yesterday?’

‘Did he?’ Nico didn’t take his eyes off the road. They were heading towards one of Mardivino’s least pretty villages because Gabriella wanted to have a look at it, but she hadn’t told him why.

‘I’m thinking,’ she had said, and would not be swayed.

It was, he thought wryly, an oddly erotic experience to tussle with a woman who would not be swayed.

‘So what did he say?’ he questioned, as he negotiated a narrow road that was a dream on the bike but not quite so amenable to the four-wheel drive he had considered necessary for this journey.

‘He worries about you.’

Nico gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t tell me—he gave you the “dangerous sports” lecture?’

‘You know about that?’

‘Of course.’ He changed down a gear. ‘It wouldn’t matter if I was strolling sedately along the beach at Solajoya—if Gianferro didn’t approve, he would attempt to talk me out of it. It’s less a fear of the consequences, in his case, and more the fact that he likes to control—it’s in his blood. He takes his heir-to-the-throne responsibilities a touch too seriously sometimes. That’s why Guido doesn’t live here any more. Why he got out just as soon as he could.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Oh, I’ve just learned to ignore him,’ he said softly.

‘Sounds like a bit of a communication problem to me.’

‘Skip the amateur psychology, Gabriella. If I want advice about how to deal with my brother

, then I’ll ask for it.’

There was silence in the car, the kind of claustrophobic, in-car silence that grew like a heavy, oppressive cloud.

‘That was harsh of me,’ said Nico eventually.

‘No, you’re right.’ She shrugged. ‘Your relationship with your brother is none of my business.’

No, it wasn’t. Her personal opinion wasn’t the reason he had brought her here—her professional opinion, maybe. But that wasn’t strictly true, either, was it? The job had simply been a manoeuvre to get her here; her seduction had been uppermost in his mind. But she had embraced the project with an enthusiasm that impressed him, and yet he still remained a stranger to her bed.