‘This is a good train track, Ben,’ he said.
Ben trotted forward eagerly. ‘My one at home is bigger, because we didn’t bring all the pieces. And some of the engines are at home. But I will tell you who these are that I’ve got here.’ He settled himself down by the track and started to regale the Prince, who had hunkered down.
Abruptly, Lizzy snapped her eyes away from the way the material of his immaculately cut trousers strained over powerful thighs.
Oh, God—isn’t it bad enough that he’s a prince?
She sat herself down on the sofa. Would the man never clear off?
It seemed not. To Lizzy’s dismay, he seemed to be settling himself in. She picked up her book. Ben was happily chattering away, talking about his beloved trainset. She tried to concentrate on her book, and failed completely.
After what seemed like for ever, Ben suddenly stood up.
‘Is it time to go swimming yet?’
She got to her feet, relieved. ‘Good idea. Let’s get your things.’ She gave an awkward nod to the Prince, who had stood when she did.
She scurried off with Ben. But to her dismay, when they came back downstairs with the swimming kit and went into the pool room, there was already someone in the water.
The Prince’s long, lean body cut through the water in a swift crawl, but when he reached the end of the pool he stopped.
‘Ah, Ben, there you are,’ he said. ‘In you come.’
Lizzy stared in horrified fascination. The Prince had half levered himself out of the water, his arms folded down over the edge. She could see the water draining off his torso.
It was smooth, and perfectly muscled, honed like a sportsman.
She tore her eyes away. Ben was scrambling out of his clothes as fast as he could. With gritted teeth she inflated his armbands and slid them over his arms.
‘Hurry, hurry,’ said Ben, jiggling around. The moment he was fitted, he ran and jumped into the water.
Jerkily, Lizzy picked up his clothes, and went to sit on one of the padded seats that were dotted by the glass wall.
Thank God I wasn’t in the water already.
That would have been the ultimate horror. She sat, feeling far too hot in what she was wearing in this sun-heated area, but there was nothing she could do about it. She felt her cheeks grow flushed as she watched Ben playing in the water.
The Prince seemed ludicrously enthusiastic about entertaining a four-year-old child. He ducked and dived and raced, and pounced on Ben like a shark, eliciting squeals of glee.
She felt resentment and anger mounting in her. What was the point? What was the point of Prince Enrico doing this? It would just unsettle Ben, that was all. Make him want something that he wasn’t going to have.
He hasn’t got a father. He hasn’t got an uncle. He hasn’t got anyone—he’s just got me.
And it wasn’t fair on him to let him get a taste of what it might be like if he had a father. A father to play with him, to pay attention to him.
Make him laugh the way he was laughing now.
I want to go home. I just want to go home. I want this over. Done with. Forgotten.
Rico helped Ben out of the pool for the last time, and glanced across at where his aunt was sitting. Her face had gone red in the heat, and she looked worse than ever. She also had a face like sour milk.
His brother’s words came back to him, half-taunting, halfmocking—which was Luca’s usual attitude towards him on this subject.
‘If there’s a female in the equation you’re the expert—just as well she’s plain, mind you. You’ll be immune to her.’
Well, the latter was true. No doubt about that. With a dispassionate mind he could only feel sorry for any female as unattractive as this one. But as someone he actually had to deal with, however briefly, he could do without it. As for the former—well, females of this variety were definitely ones he was not expert in.
He launched himself out of the pool, effortlessly lifting himself on his arms. The boy’s aunt had already busied herself wrapping Ben in a towel and getting him dry. He strolled off to get changed himself, in the cabanas provided for the purpose.