Defying the Prince

?No. The focus needs to be on my brother and your sister. Not you.’

‘So I am in captivity.’

‘Consider it a holiday. You were planning to stay in the hotel for a week. We’ve merely altered the destination and I can assure you that the coastline around my palazzo is stunning. My staff are currently in the process of transferring your luggage—please tell me you own something that doesn’t sparkle.’ His gaze flickered to hers and she felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the air because there was something in that look that made her stomach flip.

Even without a smile on his face he was indecently, impossibly sexy.

‘Do pyjamas count?’ It was a good job she could never fall for a man without a sense of humour, Izzy thought shakily, otherwise she’d be in deep trouble. And she’d thought she’d been too badly hurt to even look at a man again. It was the champagne. Surely it was the champagne.

‘Your pyjamas are the only clothes you own that don’t sparkle?’ His gaze skidded to hers and she turned scarlet, wishing she’d never mentioned pyjamas.

Tension throbbed between them and Izzy bit back a wild laugh because even she recognised that the attraction between them was beyond inconvenient. And she didn’t welcome it any more than he did. Her last relationship had been an utter disaster, the fallout from it played out across the world’s media. She had no intention of providing more relationship fodder for public entertainment.

What might have happened next she had no idea because a pair of enormous gates manned by armed security guards swung open and the car sped through the gates without slowing down. Impressed in spite of herself, Izzy sat tensely as they sped down a tree-lined avenue that eventually opened out into a magnificent courtyard dominated by an illuminated fountain.

Ahead of them, floodlit against the star-studded Mediterranean sky, stood the palazzo, centuries old and a vision of warm honey-coloured stone.

Izzy thought of her room in her parents’ mock Tudor house in England and gulped. ‘This is your home?’

‘Yes. Why?’

Because it was enormous. ‘It’s just a bit small and pokey, that’s all. I was expecting something a lot more magnificent. If you’re trying to impress the girls then you probably need to think about trading up.’ She could have sworn that his mouth finally flickered at the corners but maybe it was just wishful thinking because there was no humour in his response.

‘Endeavour to behave yourself in front of my staff.’

‘I thought you lived alone.’

‘I do, but I have a permanent staff of fifty.’

‘I hate to tell you this but a permanent staff of fifty doesn’t constitute “alone.” You seriously need fifty staff?’ She digested that fact in amazement. ‘I guessed you’d be hard work but not that much work. That’s an awful lot of people to pick up after you. You must be terribly untidy.’

He brought the car to an abrupt halt. ‘My charity is run from here with a permanent staff of ten. I also host visiting heads of state and senior government officials in my role as advisor to the Defence Department, so I require staff for that. The rest are involved with the running of the palazzo, including a team of gardeners and an archivist. I do have a private secretary, but I “pick up” after myself. And here’s a friendly tip—while you’re here I expect you to conduct yourself with dignity and propriety.’

‘You use an awful lot of long words. The moment I get a signal I’m going to download a dictionary app to my phone so that I can understand you.’

His jaw tightened. ‘Isabelle—’

The name made her shudder. ‘Here’s a friendly tip for you—if you want me to behave myself, don’t call me Isabelle. It brings out the worst in me.’

Before he could respond, someone opened the car door and Izzy stepped out gratefully, the platform sole of her shoe-boots crunching on the drive. The air was fresh and cool. ‘Oh, I can hear the sea. That’s nice.’

‘The palazzo is built on a cliff. My ancestor didn’t much trust his fellow humans so he chose a position that was easily defended. Don’t go wandering at night, especially after a drink.’

‘I don’t usually drink.’

His scathing glance suggested he didn’t believe her. ‘Areas of the cliff edge are crumbling. We have a major restoration project going on but with a place this size it’s a never-ending battle.’ The prince switched to his own language to speak to his staff and Izzy wished she’d concentrated more at school because she had no clue what he was saying.

That was another app she was going to have to download.

Italian for beginners.

But she didn’t need an app to see how warmly the staff greeted him. Whatever his faults, the prince was clearly loved by those around him.

Presumably he’d delivered some sort of command because a uniformed member of the prince’s household greeted her formally. ‘If you would like to follow me, signorina.’

‘Absolutely. Completely on my best behaviour at all times.’ Saluting Matteo and trying desperately to walk in a straight line, Izzy staggered on her towering heels through the gilded doors and was instantly dazzled by the grandeur of the place. She stopped dead, her head tilted back as she stared at the ornate ceiling. ‘Wow. Another incredible ceiling.’

‘It’s called a fresco.’ Matteo’s voice came from behind her. ‘It was painted by a contemporary of Michelangelo.’