The Heir the Prince Secures

“What?” She clutched the sheet higher, over her naked body that just hours before had been hot and tangled beneath his own. “No!”

“You will do as I tell you.” He couldn’t bear to look at her beautiful, anguished face. Turning away, he stuffed a few more things in his suitcase.

“This is because I told you I love you, isn’t it?” Tess’s voice trembled. “I knew this would happen! I knew it!”

Stefano looked away. Outside, he could see the hills leading to a pink horizon over the distant Mediterranean and, beyond that, Africa. Without a word, he pulled on a crisp white shirt and tuck

ed it into his trousers. Sitting in a nearby chair, he laced up his black leather shoes.

“Please, Stefano,” she whispered. “Just talk to me.”

His stomach tightened, but he forced himself to face her.

Tess’s hands were clasped, her thick black eyelashes fluttering against her pale cheeks.

Dawn broke, and sunlight flooded the bedroom from the east-facing windows, frosting Tess’s beautiful face with warm golden light. As their eyes locked, he felt strangely vulnerable. And no wonder. He’d never revealed so much of his heart to any other living soul.

Just that thought made the world start to spin again and that sick feeling rise in his chest.

“I just have to go.” He looked away. “I will return in a few days. When I do...” He set his jaw. “We’ll talk.”

“Stefano, don’t go,” she whispered. “Please.”

Stefano felt a hard, rough twist in his chest at the pain in her voice. He crushed his feelings just as he’d been trained to do. Snapping the small suitcase shut, he kissed her forehead, then left without another word and without looking back.

CHAPTER NINE

IT WAS THE longest four days of Tess’s life.

Four days of being alone in a remote Sicilian castle, being asked by the villagers and servants where Stefano had gone. Four days of eating alone in the great hall with only her baby for company. Four days of looking anxiously online for news of Stefano and discovering none.

And four nights of sleeping alone in their big bed, dreaming of him. Four mornings of waking up with a knot in her throat, her heart hovering between hope and dread.

Did Tess have any reason to hope?

I will return in a few days. When I do, we’ll talk.

He could love her, her heart stubbornly argued. She’d seen the way he looked at her when she’d told him she loved him. She’d felt the way he kissed her, whispering words in Italian that sounded like music. She loved him. And she thought he could love her if he let himself.

But, for him, all love had ever meant was loss and pain.

She could settle for him not loving her, she told herself on the first day. She could live her whole life without ever being loved, she told herself on the second. He couldn’t help it, she insisted on the third.

But on the fourth...

Everything in Tess rose up in rebellion.

She thought of her mother, waiting eight years for a married man to leave his wife. She thought of herself, waiting over a year for Stefano to return to her, convincing herself that he was trapped on a desert island with amnesia.

This was her life. Her baby’s life.

No more settling.

No more excuses.

Esme deserved better.

And, Tess realized with clarity, so did she.