‘You can’t do this,’ she said again. She made her voice steady. Very steady. Calm and rational. ‘I won’t let you. I won’t let you give everything up for Ben. He’s young. He’ll soon forget you. It will be hard at first, but in a year he’ll have forgotten you. You’ll just be a memory, and even that will fade.’
He was looking at her strangely. Then he spoke.
‘But, you see, my memories of Ben won’t fade. I won’t forget him. And I won’t give him up. He’s my brother’s son—and as clearly as if Paolo were here now I can hear him telling me to be the father to Ben that he was not allowed to be. Just as you—’ he made each word telling ‘—are the mother to Ben that your sister was not allowed to be. And though the cruelty of their deaths can never be assuaged, we know that we can be the loving family to their son that he needs. Because we both love him—and we love each other, don’t we, Lizzy?’
She opened her mouth, but no words came. He supplied them for her.
‘You can’t kiss a man like you just did unless you love him. You can’t cry all over a man like you just did unless you love him. And you certainly can’t tell a prince he’s not to give up his title for the woman he loves unless you love him. I’ve got you on all three counts, Signora Ceraldi. And I’ve got you on more counts than that. An infinite number—not just every night we were together, but every moment we were together. Every look, every touch, everything we said to each other, every meal we shared—every smile we shared, everything.’
He shook his head ruminatively. ‘It started right from the beginning—even though I didn’t know it. Seeing you with Ben, seeing you love him and care for him. And when…’He paused, then went on, ‘When you used that horrible, cruel word about yourself, describing our marriage, I wanted to do anything, everything I could to banish it.’ His eyes softened. ‘And I had my reward—oh, I did indeed. Ever since you walked towards me along that terrace, looking such a knockout, taking my breath away, I’ve been lost. And I know that makes me sound superficial and trivial, thinking with my Y chromosome, but you
bowled me over. Blew me away. Knocked me for six. Whatever you want to call it—I went for it.’ His voice changed again. ‘But it isn’t just because of that. It can’t be—because even now, when you haven’t got a scrap of make-up on, and your hair is going frizzy again, and God alone knows what rubbish dump you got that T-shirt out of, I just want to hold you and never, never let you go again. Why do you suppose that is?’
She fingered a corner of the rug and wouldn’t look at him.
‘It was just novelty. Kindness. Something like that.’
Rico said a word in Italian. She didn’t know what it meant, but she could tell it wasn’t one she wanted Ben to copy.
‘It was love. Do you know how I know? Because when I heard my father telling me my marriage was void I wanted to hit him. Pulverise him.’
‘He was trying to manipulate you. No wonder you were angry.’
‘He was trying to take me away from you. And I wasn’t going to let him.’
‘He was trying to take you away from Ben.’
‘Ben, yes—and you. Stop trying to tell me I don’t love you, Signora Ceraldi.’ He shook his head again, and only the glint in his eyes told her his jibe was not cruel. ‘What a low opinion you have of me. The Playboy Prince—that’s all you think of me, isn’t it? Admit it.’
She could find no humour in it. ‘You can’t give up your birthright.’ Her voice was low, and vehement. ‘You can’t.’
‘I can and I have. Like I said, it’s a done deal. It was a done deal the moment my self-righteous brother informed me what the penalty for my crime was. It took a while,’ he said grimly, ‘to convince Luca and my father that I was serious in the answer I gave them. That there was no way on God’s earth that I would repudiate you and agree to void our marriage—and to hell with their damn laws. But finally they washed their hands of me. I’ve signed God knows how many documents my father had drawn up, and now, finally, I’ve been able to come to you.’
She shook her head urgently, violently.
‘No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you do this, Rico. Please go back. Go back before it’s too late. You can get your title restored, be reinstated, go back on the Civil List, unfreeze your San Lucenzan assets—’
But he only laughed, lounging back on the rug, propped up on one elbow. ‘Yes, definitely a venal woman, Signora Ceraldi.’ He gave an extravagant sigh. ‘I’m only good enough for you when I’m a royal, and I’m only good enough for you when I’ve got my fingers in the San Lucenzan royal coffers.’
He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘My sweet little golddigger—don’t you realise that since I turned eighteen it has been my life-long ambition never to be strung up by the family financial umbilical cord? I know you think I’m just a mindless Playboy Prince, but I haven’t spent my youth simply philandering and racing powerboats and the like. I’ve made investments, taken financial interests in various ventures, played the stock markets. I may not be worth quite what I was before I quit San Lucenzo, but we can jog along quite comfortably, I promise you. We may even—’ his eyes glinted again, making weakness wash through her ‘—run to buying that villa in Capo d’Angeli. Would you like that? But let’s keep your cottage here. We’ll do it up properly. Put central heating in. I’d like to spend time here. The surf looks good.’
Her hands twisted in her lap.
‘The water’s far too cold for you here.’
He took her hands and untwisted them. ‘Then I look forward to you warming me up afterwards. Will you do that, hmm?’ The glint turned into a gleam. The weakness washed through her again.
Then he was smoothing the fingers of her hands—softly, sensuously.
‘Too many days without you,’ he was murmuring. ‘Too many nights. What a lot we have to make up for.’
She took a deep breath. Looked him right in the eyes. Those dark, beautiful, long-lashed eyes.
‘Rico, don’t do this. Please don’t do this. I can’t bear it.’
The long sooty lashes swept down over his eyes, then back up again.
‘And I can’t bear not to. It’s as simple as that.’