Ten minutes later and in spite of doing my best to avoid him, I was nose to nose with this notorious count in the festival parking lot.
“You want me to do what?” I blurted out. I couldn’t believe Ricco had the nerve to approach me after my heart to heart with Sloan. He was laughing at me the whole time. And me with my big speech about not knowing how to act around royals and he was one of them. Not even a fairy godmother could get me out of this mess.
“I want you to be my assistant before your performance on the last night of Fairy Tales & Magic.”
“What happened to your last assistant?” I shot back, ready with my ammunition. I wasn’t going to be a laughing stock any longer. “No, don’t tell me. You waved your hands and made her disappear.”
He laughed. “Not exactly, bella, but she had to leave suddenly.”
“You mean she got cold feet.”
He grinned. “Her sister is having a bambino earlier than expected and needed her to come home right away. That’s why I was at the station. I wanted to make certain she didn’t miss the last express train.”
“Very convenient.” It made sense in a cockeyed way. Still, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The most gorgeous man in Monterra was a real count and wanted me to be his fricking assistant. I wanted to ask him to repeat it to make sure I heard right, but the sexy glimmer in his dark eyes told me I had. He was already sizing me up, measuring me with wild gestures, asking me how tall I was—five feet eight—how much did I weigh, and mumbling about how flexible I was from what he’d seen on the silks.
I didn’t say no right away, I should have, but instead I fibbed about my weight like I always do. God knows what I weighed since I got here with all the heavenly Monterran food, not to mention Savannah gorging us with her fairy tale baking experiments.
“It might be a tight squeeze,” he said, “but it will work.”
“You mean the costume?”
“No, the boxes I use to saw you in half.”
I blinked. Boxes, what boxes?
“I’m too tall,” I said.
“But you’re as flexible as a dandelion blowing in the breeze.”
“I’m claustrophobic.”
“Your head won’t be covered, the better for me to gaze upon your beautiful face.”
“I’m allergic to saws.”
He laughed. “You won’t feel a thing.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered under my breath. Most likely I’d be passed out at the sight of a steel blade coming that close to my bikini line.
No matter what excuse I gave him, Ricco wouldn’t change his mind. I didn’t understand why he wanted me. Katee was far more accomplished than me on stage, Finley was more beautiful, Sloan had a polish I’d never have, and Savannah won everybody over with her big personality and sense of humor.
So why me?
I gave the direct approach a try. “Why not one of the other girls?”
“I haven’t kissed the other American signorine.”
Now I was embarrassed.
I couldn’t do it. Not after what Sloan told me about him and that Russian princess.
“Come with me, Afton, and perhaps I can persuade you.”
“I have to rehearse.”
“We won’t be gone long. Besides, it’s lunchtime and everyone in Monterra takes two hours for the midday meal.”
“I can’t . . .” I protested, trying to come up with an excuse, but I couldn’t. He wore me down like I imagine he wore down every woman. With that velvet voice and rakish grin. Is this what Sloan meant when she said he was a heartbreaker?
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said.
Ricco grabbed my hand and squeezed it. That brief touch of his skin tickled my palm and did something to me I wasn’t ready for. Sent a wave of pleasure through me that made me weak-kneed. Tempted me to say yes.
Even if I agreed to be his assistant, I argued with myself, nothing could ever come of it.
I was simply a fill-in.
But wasn’t a fill-in better than a never-was?
I shot him a fun smile and didn’t protest when he lifted me up and sat me down on the back of his red Vespa. Yes, red. A roguish count wouldn’t have any other color but a smashing royal red, would he? Then off we went through the woods, swerving from side to side to avoid rocks, Ricco jumping the bike over fallen branches, tires screeching when he took a sharp corner around a stone wall and then onto a main road. We passed no one except a farmer with a cart, his donkey panting under a heavy load of lemons.
I hung onto him and didn't dare let go. I thrilled to being so close to him, hugging the warmth of his strong body, but I wouldn’t let myself get the teeniest bit turned on.
I was too scared I’d fall off.
I felt wild and sexy with the fresh mountain air whipping my face and hands. Like the beautiful girls I see riding scooters everywhere over here, zooming through busy traffic with their long dark hair trailing behind them. The wind whooshed around my face as we raced over the panoramic winding road past olive groves, vineyards, and whitewashed houses.
Until we came to a private road with a big gate. Open, which surprised me. We jammed through the wrought iron portal and down the road for what seemed like half a mile.
Then I saw the castle.
Sleeping Beauty never had it this good.
If I was impressed with the beauty of Monterra, I was more impressed with the calmness and elegance of the castle sitting in a clearing with breathtaking views in all directions. The brochure was right. There must be a zillion castles in Monterra, but this one topped them all. Built at the end of a narrow, centuries-old road with a bed of rock granite and sand, the expansive residence reclined like a Roman goddess in white, welcoming us.
I wished I could see the castle up close and personal, but Ricco had his own agenda. He parked the motorbike next to an empty school bus. I glanced at the placard on the side of the bus: Clinica di San Carlo.
Now I was curious.
“I have a treat for you, bella,” Ricco said, grabbing my hand. Thrill time again, but who was counting? “Are you ready for some magic?”
“Sure. All we have to do is follow the yellow brick road, right?”
He laughed. “I love your American sense of humor.”
I caught his gaze and wondered if he knew what he did to me every time he laughed. Sorbet melting on the tongue couldn’t give me more chills.
Before I could click my heels, the magician led me along an old stone walkway to a beautiful rose garden. I found myself under a canopy of bougainvillea and jasmine, where the perfume of honeysuckle was overpowering.
And the sound of laughter.
The school bus tipped me off, so I wasn’t surprised to see a dozen children gathered in a semi-circle on the lawn, giggling and drinking orange soda.
What did surprise me was they all sat in wheelchairs,
My heart pinched. They reminded me of the little girl in the wheelchair back home and how she said I inspired her. What a jerk I was for not giving Ricco a chance to explain. So that was what the phone call was about. The children were waiting for him to perform a magic show for them.
Suddenly I wasn’t angry with him anymore for not telling me who he was.
But why bring me here? What could I do to help?
The nurses tried to keep their charges under control, but the kids yelled and waved their arms about and some tried to stand up in their wheelchairs when they saw Ricco. Obviously this wasn’t his first visit here. A beautiful backdrop for a bunch of kids who lived in pain each day, a way to bring sunlight into their lives. Whoever owned this place was a good soul in my book.
Nearby, I saw an older woman cutting roses and arranging them in a woven basket. Elegantly dressed, high heels. Dark hair in a lovely twist at the nape of her neck. She stopped for a moment and looked in my direction. She nodded, and then turned and walked toward the castle.
I was dying to know who she was. A queen? No, Monterra had only one queen. Queen Aria. A film star? Maybe. She was beautiful enough to be in films.
I was about to ask Ricco if he knew her when the children’s excitement reached a fever pitch. They couldn’t wait a moment longer.
“Who likes to play dominos?” Ricco asked, his rich voice making it sound like dominos was the most exciting game ever. He spoke first in Italian and then in English for my benefit, though the amazement on the children’s faces needed no translation. I thought about how cool it was these kids weren’t texting and playing games on their phones, but were entranced by a magical moment from a man with so much charisma, dominoes won out.
With me, too.
“Pick a domino,” he said to a little girl with a blue ribbon tied around the cast on her leg. She picked a white domino with five dots. “Hold it tight. I also have a domino, but this one has the royal Alessi crest.” He looked at me to see my reaction while he held up the domino for the children to see.
I smiled at him, figuring he was testing me. I remained calm, tilting my nose in the air to show him I wasn’t impressed.
That perturbed him. He crossed his brows, giving me a secret look that said he had something else in store for me later.
“Now put the domino into your pocket,” he told the little girl, “while I erase the crest from the domino in my hand.” He made a big effort out of rubbing the pristine white domino and then holding it up to show everyone the crest had disappeared. “Now reach into your pocket.” The little girl did as he asked. “Eccolo! There it is! You now have the domino with the royal crest.”
“Guarda, look!” cried out the little girl. She held up the domino with the royal crest and showed everyone.
“Keep it, signorina,” Ricco said, laughing. “It’s yours.”
The child squealed and held the domino close to her chest like she’d never let it go. The thrill on her face brought tears to my eyes. I couldn’t help it.
“You’re amazing, Ricco,” I gushed like a fangirl. “You made that little girl so happy.”
“Ah, if only I could do the same for you, Afton,” he said, kissing my hand. The little girl squealed and clapped her hands, making me blush. “I would give you a million dominos.”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t understand what this fabulous magician saw in me, but I assured myself it wouldn’t go anywhere.
Enjoy it, because it will be over when you’re back in Philly.
Remembering that once upon a time, a royal magician thought you were cool.
I sat on a stone bench, my chin cupped in my hands, my eyes never leaving Ricco as he entertained the kids for the next forty-five minutes with rope tricks, colorful scarves that untied themselves, and coin bending. Simple tricks like making a small coin bigger, but he had the kids participating every step of the way, making them part of the show. I had no idea how he did the tricks, but the kids didn’t care.
Every child received a souvenir Monterran Festival coin he pulled out from behind their ears. From the whispering and pointing, I gathered this was their favorite part of the show. They adored Count Ricco with his charm and funny jokes, whispering to each other, and then shouting magic words when he asked them to help him make a rabbit appear.
And it did!
Under an empty black top hat he’d placed behind a boy’s wheelchair.
I couldn’t stop laughing, watching Ricco chase after the rabbit, and then sliding on the grass when he caught it in his arms. Everyone cheered. Me, loudest of all. Who would have believed this big, handsome man was taking a fall just to make these children laugh? And Sloan said he was a scoundrel. A rogue who captured female hearts and then tossed them away.
I didn’t get it.
Of course, I had no idea I was about to be put on the hot seat when he told them the story about a pretty fairy who loved to play tricks on him. Like tying his scarves into knots, and turning his bottled water into ice when he poured it into a glass. He demonstrated the scarf then the bottled water trick as he spoke, evoking a series of “ahs” from everyone.
“But most of all,” Ricco said in both Italian and English, “she broke my heart when she wouldn’t be my assistant at the magic festival this week.”
He stared directly at me. I sank down in my seat. I was in for it now. The look he gave me was wildly disturbing and made me want to hide in the bunny’s top hat.
“No, no!” cried the children amid what I imagined were protests about this mysterious fairy. Who was he kidding? Not the children. They were laughing and whispering and pointing to me. Begging and pleading for me to say yes.
I didn’t need him to translate. Seeing their faces so happy, I couldn’t disappoint them.
“How can I refuse?” I said in my very bad Italian and then I made a grand bow before him. “I will be most happy to be your assistant, Count Ricco.”
“You know I want to kiss you,” he whispered in my ear so no one could hear him. I prayed for a moment I wasn’t imagining what he said, allowing his royal hotness to come so close to me his shoulder brushed my chest. It took all my willpower not to grab him.
Instead, I looked up at him with a challenge in my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said, “Not here in front of the children.”
He exhaled. Hard. Was he thinking it over? Then why were his hands behind me?
“No, but I will kiss you again, ma bella Afton,” he said, and then with a teasing smile he pulled a long red, blue, orange and yellow streamer out of my ear, making the children laugh.
“When?” I challenged him, just because I could.
“After I saw you in half.”