Secret Heirs: Royal Appointment

Grazie a Dio! The last thing he needed was a headstrong woman fighting him every step of the way!

But a bolt of pure lust crashed through him as he imagined her in his arms. Finding a suitable princess could wait a few days.

* * *

Callie stared up in wonder at the royal gates marking the boundary of the Prince’s estate. They were everything she’d expected and more. They were regal and imposing with gilt-tipped spears crowning their impressive height, while lions, teeth bared, grinned down at her. ‘Hello,’ she murmured, giving them a wink. The lions scowled back.

‘Very welcoming,’ she managed on a dry throat. Should she be using another entrance? Was there a back entrance? Well, it was too late now. She was here. And then she spotted a notice. It was only about twelve feet high. ‘Numbskull,’ she muttered. Turning in the direction indicated by the bright red arrow, she walked over to a disappointingly modern control box attached to the far side of the gate. Pressing the button, she jumped with surprise when a metallic voice barked, ‘Sollevare la testa, si prega.’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Italian very well...’

‘Look up, please,’ the same metallic voice instructed.

She stared at the sky.

‘At the camera.’

Okay, numbskull squared, that small round lens just in front of me is a camera!

The metallic voice hadn’t shown any emotion, but Callie could imagine the person behind it rolling their eyes. Finally, she did as instructed.

‘The photograph is for security reasons,’ the metallic voice grated out. ‘If you don’t wish to enter the estate, please step back now.’

‘No—I do. I mean, yes. I’m here to apply for a job. I’m sorry if I should have used another entrance...’ Her mouth slammed shut as the massive gates swung open.

‘Report to the foreman in the first barn you come to.’

‘Yes, signor...um...signora?’ The sex of The Voice would remain a mystery for ever, Callie thought as she stepped into a very different world.

This was a world of control and order, Callie concluded, as well as extreme magnificence on every level. Awestruck, she stared down the length of an incredible avenue composed of a carpet of glistening, white marble beads. At the end of this lay a pink stone edifice, bleached almost white by the midday sun. Both elegant and enormous, the palazzo boasted turrets and towers that could have come straight from a book of fairy tales. Cinderella’s castle, she mused wryly. The driveway leading up to the palace was broad and long, with stately cypress trees lining the route like sentries. Butterflies darted amongst the colourful flowerbeds lining her way, and birds trilled a welcome as she walked along, but there was no sign of the barn The Voice had referred to.

‘Hey! Per di qua! This way!’

She turned at the sound of friendly voices to see more pickers following her into the palace grounds. They’d halted at what she could now see was the shrubbery-concealed entrance to a pathway.

Callie scolded herself as she hurried to join them. There was another sign, and it was a huge one, but she’d missed it completely, being too busy ogling her surroundings. The sign read, ‘Benvenuto ai nostro personale stagionale!’ Even she knew what that meant. ‘Welcome to our temporary staff!’

It was certainly a warmer greeting than the stained sheet of lined paper pinned up on the noticeboard outside the pub, which warned staff to use the back door not the front, on pain of immediate dismissal.

The pickers had waited for her and were all in high spirits. She blended right in with denim shorts and a loose cotton top, teamed with a pair of market-find trainers. She was ready and excited for whatever lay ahead. This was an adventure. This was what she’d been waiting for. This was something to tell the Browns.

It was good news to hear she could start right away and be paid in cash if she wanted. That suited Callie. She planned to check out of the posh hotel and move to a small bed and breakfast in town to extend her stay. She’d already called to confirm the B & B had rooms. She wanted to get to know the real Italy, and, with her father’s example behind her, she knew better than to fritter her money away. She’d tasted the high life, and was glad to have done so, but had come away feeling slightly let down. This was so much better, she concluded as she trooped out of the barn with the other pickers. There were no airs and graces here, and, more significantly, no need to wear those excruciatingly painful high-heeled shoes.

The Prince’s estate was like a small town. She hadn’t guessed how big it was from the road. There were dozens of gangs of pickers working throughout the spectacular lemon groves. This was heaven, Callie thought as she straightened up and paused for breath. Yes, the work was hard, but the sun was warm, the scent of lemons was intoxicating. She had thick gloves to protect her hands and a tool to pick the lemons that were out of reach. The camaraderie was incredible. Everyone wanted to help the newcomers. The party Maria had told her about at the hotel was definitely on tonight, and all the pickers were invited. What could possibly be better than this?

She soon returned to the rhythm of picking. With a lightweight bucket tied around her waist, dropping fruit into it as she went, she loaded the lemon gold into crates that were taken away on gleaming tractors. By the time the blazing sun had mellowed into the amber glow of early evening, she felt as if she’d been working there all her life.

She’d even made a new friend called Anita, a big, bonnie woman, as Ma Brown would have called her, with a ready smile as big as Texas. Anita came from the north of England each year to pick lemons, to feel the sun on her face, to prepare her for the long, cold winter, Anita said. ‘I’m on my own,’ she’d explained to Callie, ‘but when I come here, I have a ready-made family.’

That was when Callie told Anita about the Browns. ‘It’s people that make things special, isn’t it?’ she’d asked.

This wasn’t just a great way to extend her stay in Italy, Callie concluded as Anita offered to show her the way to the cookhouse, this was an entirely new slant on life, if she had the courage to seize it.

Seize it she would, Callie determined. Her limbs might be aching from all the unaccustomed exercise, but she felt exhilarated for the first time in years. This, this was freedom.

CHAPTER THREE

HER ADVENTURE HAD only just begun, Callie realised as excitement for the upcoming party built inside her. Anita had shown her to one of the many well-groomed courtyards surrounding the palace where the celebration was to be held. She couldn’t help glancing through the brilliantly lit windows of the palace, to see if she could spot the Prince. Of course, there was no one who looked remotely like a prince, and there was no special buzz in the crowd, so he probably wasn’t here. Anita and she accepted a small glass of iced Limoncello from a passing waiter and started to chat. They hadn’t been talking long before Callie felt compelled to turn around. She gasped. ‘Luca?’

‘Someone you know?’ Anita asked with surprise.

‘Sort of,’ Callie admitted. She’d just caught a glimpse of him, but now there was a crowd clustering round, so she could only see the top of his head. She wasn’t surprised by all the interest. It was his magnetism that had first gripped her. ‘He didn’t tell me he worked here,’ she told Anita.

‘He’s a regular—are you all right?’ Anita had been about to say something else about Luca, but was responding to the look on Callie’s face.

‘I’m absolutely fine,’ Callie insisted on a dry mouth. Which was an absolute lie. She had to put her glass down and cross her arms over her chest to hide her arousal as Luca looked at her. And he didn’t just glance her way. Their stares locked and held.

‘Uh-oh. He’s coming over,’ Anita warned. ‘I predict things are about to change for you,’ Anita commented sagely. She had to nudge Callie, who was as good as in a trance. ‘Better make myself scarce...’

‘No, Anita! Stay—’ Too late. Anita had already disappeared into the crowd.

Luca saluted Callie with a bottle of beer, and his slanting smile of recognition was infectious and made her smile too. Her heart raced out of control. It was so exciting to see him again. Too exciting. She should follow Anita. What was she thinking of, standing here, waiting for a man who looked as if he ate brass tacks for breakfast with a virgin on the side?

Quite simple, Callie concluded, lifting her chin. She didn’t run away from anything, and she wasn’t about to start now.

And he was quite a magnet. Luca looked better than ever in his banged-up work clothes. Swarthy-faced, with an unruly mop of thick black hair and an indecent amount of sharp black stubble, he was everything better avoided for those in search of a quiet life. But I’m here in search of adventure, Callie reminded herself with a secret inner grin. Tousled and rugged, with scratches on his powerful forearms and hard-muscled calves, he even looked sexy when he wiped smudges of dirt from his face with the back of his arm. The bonfire behind him was throwing off flames that provided the perfect showcase for a man who looked like a dark angel from hell come to wreak havoc on novice flirters.

‘Luca,’ she said pleasantly as he came over, acting as if her senses weren’t reeling.

‘Signorina Callista Smith,’ he countered with a slanting grin. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’

‘You know my name?’ He must have been talking to Marco the barman, Callie realised. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being discussed by the two men.

‘You can’t expect to be ignored, signorina.’

As Luca made a mock bow, she tried not to notice they’d become the centre of attention. She didn’t flatter herself that he’d picked her out for any particular reason. If he was a regular as Anita had suggested, she was fresh meat.

His top was tight and skimmed the waistband of his low-slung shorts. It was impossible not to notice the arrow of dark hair that swooped beneath his zipper, or indeed the quite preposterous bulge that lay beneath. To say he looked amazing was an understatement. Even when she tried to focus on something harmless, like his tanned feet in simple thonged sandals, she realised they were sexy too. Her interest travelled up his legs to powerful calves, and on again to where she definitely shouldn’t be looking. She had to stop this right now, and concentrate!

No! Not there!

She was about to meet a very challenging man for the second time, and she’d better be ready for it, Callie warned herself firmly. Fixing her gaze on Luca’s darkly amused face, she determined not to let her gaze wander, but then thought, why not stare? Luca had never been shy about staring at her, and interest wasn’t a one-way street. His bronzed and muscular torso, barely covered by the ripped and faded top, invited attention. He was an outstanding specimen. A statue should be raised in the town square for everyone to admire.

‘Nice to see you at the party,’ he said, smiling in that faint way he had that made her body burn. ‘I hope they’re serving nuts tonight.’

She gave him a look, half smile, half scolding. He’d stopped within touching distance. His heat enveloped her. And that voice. Dark chocolate tones strummed her senses until they were clamouring for the sort of pleasure she guessed Luca knew only too much about. He towered over her in a way that blocked out the light, which was enough to warn her to be careful. She didn’t stand in anyone’s shadow. ‘Are you here on your own?’ she asked, diplomatically stepping away.

‘I am,’ he confirmed.

His voice curled around her, making her skin tingle. ‘No one waiting for you back home?’ she enquired casually.

‘My dogs, my cats and the horses,’ he said.

‘I think you know what I mean,’ she insisted.

‘Do I?’ Luca stared at her in a way that made heat curl low in her belly. ‘Do you always put people you’ve only just met through the third degree?’

When they look like you, and have who knows what secrets, yes, I do, she thought. ‘That depends who I’m talking to,’ she said.

‘So why do I get the third degree?’

‘Do we have enough time?’ she demanded, and when he laughed, she said honestly, ‘I just didn’t expect to see you here, so it’s a bit of a surprise.’

‘A surprise I hope you’re getting used to?’

His black eyes were dancing with laughter, so, responding in kind, she shook her head and heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘I’m trying to be tactful, and I realise now that blunt is much easier for me.’

‘I’m with you there,’ he said. ‘So be blunt.’

‘Are you married?’ she asked flat out. ‘Or do you have a partner, a special friend?’

Luca grinned. ‘You weren’t joking about blunt.’

‘Correct,’ Callie confirmed. ‘Before I say another word, I need to know where I stand.’

‘Do I look married?’

‘That’s not an answer to my question,’ she complained. ‘In fact, I’d call it an evasion.’

‘I’m not married,’ Luca confirmed as she turned to go. She stilled when he caught hold of her arm. His touch was like an incendiary device to her senses. ‘I’m unattached, other than being briefly joined to you,’ he said as he lifted his hand away. She felt the loss of it immediately. ‘Does that satisfy your moral code?’

‘My moral compass is pointing in a more hopeful direction,’ she agreed.

‘You’re an intriguing woman, Callista Smith.’

‘Callie.’ She enjoyed the verbal sparring with him. ‘And you must have led a sheltered life.’

He laughed out loud at that suggestion, making her wish they could carry on provoking each other for the rest of the night. Electricity sparked between them. He made her feel good. Primal attraction, she thought. Sex, she warned herself flatly. Who couldn’t think about sex with Luca?

He looked like a natural-born hunter who thought he’d found his prey. While under her blunt manner, Callie was sugar and spice and all things nice, and determined to remain that way. Her body could argue all it liked that sugar and spice could still enjoy verbal sparring, but she had no intention of taking things any further. Luca might be everything she’d fantasised about while she was on her knees scrubbing floors in the pub, but this was reality, not a dream world, and the safest thing she could do now was leave. ‘I was about to go home,’ she explained, glancing away down the drive.

‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself?’

Too much. ‘I am.’ She couldn’t lie. She’d enjoyed everything about today, and now the food smelled amazing, the band was playing, and it was a beautifully warm evening beneath a canopy of stars. And then there was Luca. ‘But I’ve got work tomorrow.’

‘So do I,’ he said smoothly.

‘You’re making this difficult for me.’ And hard to breathe, she silently added.

‘Why deny yourself the reward for a hard day’s work?’

That depended on the reward. Good grief, he was beautiful! His stillness reminded her of a big, soft-pawed predator preparing to pounce. She didn’t need a wake-up call, Callie concluded. She needed a bucket of ice-cold water tossing over her head.

‘Hey, Luca!’

They both swung around to see Marco coming over. It broke the tension for a while as Luca greeted Marco, but once the two men were done with complicated handshakes and Marco moved on, the two of them were alone again. ‘I thought you’d have gone in search of nuts by now,’ Luca remarked dryly.

‘I was waiting to say goodbye to you.’

‘Ah.’

Was he convinced, Callie wondered, or had he guessed that she was trapped like a rabbit in headlights by his brazen masculinity?

‘So why are you here, mystery woman? You’re staying at a five-star hotel, but work in the fields picking lemons?’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ she challenged.

‘Nothing.’

‘Well, now we’ve got that sorted out, I’ll say goodnight.’ To give him his due, there was no more questions. Luca shrugged and stood aside to let her go, but as she passed he reached out to smooth a lock of hair from her face. His touch thrilled her. Her skin tingled, and her nipples tightened, while tiny pulses of sensation beat low down in her belly.

‘Stay,’ he insisted. ‘You’ll have more fun.’

That was what she was afraid of. ‘Should I be flattered by your suggestion?’ she asked coolly, searching his eyes.

‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘You should be on your guard.’

She made a point of glancing around. ‘Are there many predatory men at this party?’

‘None that stand a chance of getting close to you.’

‘Will you keep them away? I would have thought you had better things to do.’

‘And I thought you were leaving,’ he countered.

‘I am.’

He could hardly believe it when she walked away. This wasn’t a woman he could tease into his bed, but a woman to be reckoned with. Good. He needed a challenge. There was only one woman who could hold his interest tonight. He could hardly believe the transformation from butterfly at the bar, to working girl in the lemon groves. It was a good mix. That stubborn chin clinched it for him. He was done with insipid. She had a great walk too. He feasted his eyes as she walked away from him with her head held high and her shapely butt swaying provocatively beneath the simple clothes. She hadn’t a clue who he was. He doubted it would have made any difference. Status meant nothing to Callie, as proved by her easy transition from luxury living in the five-star hotel, to some of the hardest physical work in the area.

The sun had been kind to her today. Flushed from physical activity, she looked good enough to eat, something he’d put on hold until later in the evening, he reflected dryly. He watched as she met up with her friends. She was more relaxed than she’d been at the hotel. Laughing easily, she mimed words when the different languages spoken became a problem. Nothing seemed to faze her. Apart from him.

She was comfortable around everyone, as he was, and far more beautiful than he remembered. Young and natural—even the smear of dirt on her neck only made him think about licking it off. It was time he stopped thinking about Callie naked in his arms, or he’d be walking around the party uncomfortably aroused.

And, before he committed himself to taking her to bed, there were questions to be answered. Why was she picking fruit for a few euros a day when she was staying at a five-star hotel? Was it just for the experience? Who was funding her? Why was she in Italy? Was this a holiday or an escape? If she was escaping, from what? He had no intention of allowing Max to lure him into a honey trap that could discredit Luca, and expose the principality of Fabrizio to corruption beneath his half-brother’s rule. It was time to find out more.

As he approached Callie her friends melted away. ‘Where are they going?’ she asked with surprise.

They were diplomatically giving him space. Callie couldn’t help but be oblivious to the dynamics that existed between a prince and his people. However much he would have liked it to be different, obstacles between him and Utopia were not in his gift to remove.

‘Anyone would think you’d got the plague,’ she said, bringing a comic slant to bear on the situation.

‘Let’s hope it’s not that serious,’ he said, loving the way she could pop the pomposity bubble before it even had chance to form. She had raw, physical appeal, he mused as she stared up at him. It was all too easy to imagine her limbs wrapped around him as she sobbed with pleasure in his arms. ‘Dance?’ he suggested, curbing baser needs.

‘Not if I can help it,’ she exclaimed.

The response was pure Callie. ‘Why not?’ he demanded, play-acting wounded.

‘Because I have two left feet and the sense of rhythm of a hamster on a wheel.’

He shrugged. ‘Should be interesting. I’m a fast mover myself.’

She raised a disapproving brow, but her eyes betrayed her interest.

‘Perhaps I can slow you down?’ he suggested. ‘Show you an alternative to racing to the finish?’

Her cheeks flushed red. She’d got the sexual message in his words loud and clear, but she hit him with a blunt response. ‘You must be wearing steel-capped boots to feel so confident. And I’m going to sit this one out.’

He was nowhere near finished and caught hold of her arm. Momentum thrust her against him. She felt sensational, strong, lithe, and yet softly plump in all the right places. She was so tiny compared to him, but they fitted together perfectly.

‘You’re taking a lot for granted.’ She frowned, but made no attempt to move away.

‘I don’t see you rushing off,’ he countered softly.

‘Caveman.’

‘Nut freak.’

‘Nut freak?’ She stared into his eyes. Her lips were just a tempting distance away.

‘You’re quaint,’ he said, meeting her jade-green eyes head-on.

‘Quaint?’ she queried.

‘Old-fashioned.’

She appeared to consider this, and then said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Someone has to take responsibility for keeping standards high.’

Yes. That was him. He stared at a mouth he could have feasted on until she fell asleep with exhaustion. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured.

‘About what?’ she asked, her brow crinkling in enquiry.

He didn’t care. He just loved to watch her lips move as she goaded him. The thought of teasing those lips apart with his tongue to claim all the dark recesses of her mouth, along with everything else, fired him up until the hunger to take her was all-consuming. ‘That dance we talked about?’

‘You talked about.’ But she didn’t resist when he steered her towards a space that miraculously, as far as Callie was concerned, had opened for them on the packed dance floor.

When Luca pressed her close she gasped at the intensity of feeling. She was conscious that people were staring at them and whispering, which she guessed was only to be expected when she was dancing with the hottest man at the party. Why he’d chosen her to dance with, she had no idea. She hadn’t exactly made it easy for him. When he nuzzled her hair aside and kissed her neck, she didn’t care what his reasons were. She didn’t care about anything. The world and everyone in it simply dropped away.