The Heir
Suddenly, I’m so tense I can hardly breathe.
“For the sake of our baby,” he adds, “I know you’ve doubted my sincerity about wanting to be part of my child’s life, but I want to be a real father to him or her. It’s very important to me.” He stops and looks into my eyes. “I’ll be the first to admit I was not ready to settle down, but most of it was a pretence. I was lying to myself. Pretending my life was perfect. And from the outside it was. A hedonistic life, a non-stop party. From one country to another the goal was simply pleasure, but a part of me was never satisfied. In the end all those bodies, all those hot nights, all those fun parties become meaningless. I don’t miss any of it. Right now, there’s an important party on a yacht in Monte Carlo, but there is not even one cell in my body that wishes I was anywhere else, but here with you.”
“I …”
“We could make a great life together.”
“I’m sure we could, but—”
“There are no buts. Life is what we make it.”
“It’s just … it’s such a shock. I mean, I feel like pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. I thought it was too good to be true when I was offered the job at the magazine here, but this! This definitely can’t be real. You’re a prince and I’m carrying a royal baby inside me! It’s too unbelievable. It’s almost like a fairytale.”
He makes a face. “Trust me, it’s hardly a fairytale. Of course, we have our traditions, but for all the pomp and circumstance we have to go to the toilet like everybody else.”
“Go to the toilet,” I repeat stupidly.
He grins. “’Fraid so.”
I can’t help myself. I laugh almost hysterically. “It’s just that when a person thinks of a king and queen, it’s never imagining them sitting on a toilet.”
“You have something against toilets, do you?”
Suddenly, I start to laugh and can’t stop.
He joins in the laughter. “I’m going to have to convince you, Rosa, that we’re just human beings.” His eyes are suddenly serious. “I want you and my baby in my life.”
My heart pounds like a drum. Confused, I grab his glass of wine and take a big mouthful, then suddenly remember my baby, and look around me in a panic.
“Spit it back into the glass,” Dante advises calmly.
Doing as he suggests, I dab my lips with the napkin. To my horror, a waiter comes by and discreetly removes the glass. Heat rushes up my throat, but I clear it, and look up into Dante’s watching eyes.
“So what do you say?” he asks.
“What about my job?”
“We can live here. Nothing needs to change. The only thing we will be doing is giving our baby two parents who love it and place its interest above all else.”
When he puts it that way, what can I say? “Let me think for a minute, will you please?”
His lips stretch. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you. I need to think this through.” My mind whirls. Dante and I get along extremely well and enjoy each other’s company, in fact, I can’t think of anybody else I would rather spend time with, and of course, the sex is amazing. But we don’t love each other so it will be a sort of sham marriage. On the other hand, the baby deserves to have both a mother and a father. Also it wouldn’t be fair to deprive the child of its rightful standing. My child is going to be the King of a kingdom one day. I’m going to be queen mother!
Whoa!
Never in all my life, even as a little girl, have I ever pretended to be a princess or a queen. I always wanted to be the kickass heroine who saves the day with clever thinking and fast action. What do I know about being royalty? Nothing.
“Your minute is up,” Dante says.
I look at him. His eyes are laughing and he is so beautiful I want to do him right there. As if a switch gets turned inside my head, I come to a sudden decision. “All right. I accept.”
His eyebrows fly up and his joy is genuine. “That’s wonderful. You won’t regret it, bella. You will see for yourself that we are just ordinary people who sit around watching TV and drinking beer.”
“Except your mum and dad wear crowns.”
His eyes twinkle. “Almost never. And you want to know something else?”
“What’s that?”
“My crown is stuck away in a dark closet somewhere in the palace and surrounded by moth balls.”
“Moth balls!”
“I’m kidding, Rosa. I have never worn a crown, and never will.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Speaking of meeting my family …” He leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. “I’ve told my father and stepmother about you.”
I stare at him in shock. “You’ve already told them about me?”
Unfazed he beams back at me. “Right after you moved to Rome.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’d met the woman I wanted to marry.”
“Did you tell them about the baby?”
“Of course. They want to meet you.”
“They want to meet me?” I echo blankly.
“Yes. There’s a ball this weekend and the king would love to have you attend.”
“A ball? This weekend?” I’m so flustered I can barely think. “I … er … I have nothing suitable to wear. You know, nothing has arrived yet from London. And … even if it had … I hardly think I have anything that is suitable for a royal ball.”
I stop babbling when Dante’s large, tanned hand covers mine. “You worry too much, bella.”
“Maybe we can meet him another time.”
“No. There is no point putting it off. We will go this weekend.”
“Why is it important that your father meet me this weekend?”
“He would like to introduce you.”
“Introduce me?” I repeat.
“As my future wife?”
My eyes pop open. “You told them we were going to be married?”
“I didn’t plan on taking no for an answer.”
“Dante, everything’s moving too fast. I can’t keep up.”
“It’ll be all right. Believe me.” He reaches for my hand. “Let’s see how good a fit this is.” He takes my hand and places the ring on my finger. It’s a perfect fit.
I’m marrying a prince! I can’t believe it. I’m really marrying a prince. I’m living every girl’s dream!
As if on cue waiters arrive bearing food. They place the plates in front of us and fuss around us with pepper grinders and parmesan graters.
“Bon appétit,” Dante says when they are gone.
Automatically I pick up my fork and slip a piece of pasta into my mouth. I’m in such a state of shock I don’t taste anything.
“What do you think?” Dante asks.
“Pure heaven,” I lie.
Chapter 23
Rosa
“Hello,” Star says.
I’m about to speak, but as I hold my hand up the overhead light in my kitchen catches the huge blue diamond and makes it reflect hundreds of pieces of sparkling blue light all over the ceiling.
“Rosa?” Star prompts.
“Dante is a prince, and he asked me to marry him,” I blurt out.
“What?”
“Dante is a prince, and he asked me to marry him!”
She giggles. “Have you been drinking at lunch?”
“No, I haven’t. He’s a real prince, Star. His father is the King of Avanti.”
For a few seconds Star goes completely silent. “Are you serious?” she asks finally.
“Absolutely.”
“Dante is a prince?” she squeals.
“Yes,” I confirm, my voice matching her excited squeal.
“For real?”
“Yes.”
“Nooooooo,” she screams.
“Star, there is a blue diamond ring on my finger that is as big as that spider we found in your shoe cupboard!”
Star screams again, so loudly this time she nearly deafens me! “Oh my God! Oh my God!”
she shouts into the phone, then screams again. “I can’t believe this. You are going to be a princess! Oh, my God. I’m going to faint. Let me sit down. I feel quite lightheaded. I swear, I’m going to faint.”
“Star, you are more excited than I am! Well, not really, but almost.”
“This is so exciting. Okay. I’m sitting. Now tell me everything.”
“You know we were having lunch today, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he came to pick me up in this bright red Ferrari. The leather seats were so soft I just kept fondling it.”
“Can you please get on with your story?”
“Then he took off like a bat out of hell, and I was gripping my purse in mortal fear. You should see the way he drives.”
“Rosa, just skip to the part where he told you he is a prince, please.”