Chapter Four

NICO WATCHED a range of emotions cross Lily’s face. Shock, anger, fear—and resignation, grazie a Dio. She would not fight him this time.

“Why does it have to be now, like this?” she asked.

He touched her cheek, wasn’t surprised when she flinched, and dropped his hand away. He’d expected her to be transformed this afternoon, but not like this. She was more beautiful than he’d thought possible. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Was it the smooth silkiness of her hair? The creamy velvet of her skin? Her wide, green eyes?

He didn’t know, but he was having trouble remembering that he was supposed to be angry with her. He couldn’t forget what she’d done to him, but now was not the time to dwell on it or to allow it to color his actions. There was plenty of time yet to deal with her treachery. And he would most certainly do so.

“A variety of reasons, Liliana,” he said. “You must trust me.”

She blinked. “Trust you? How do you expect me to do that?”

He grasped her arm, gently, and tugged her away from the magistrate and his assistant. Nico turned her so her view of the two men was blocked. He put his hands on her shoulders, slid them up to her face, cupped her cheeks and stroked her skin. Her breath caught, sending a warm current of need through him. Dio, if nothing else, he would enjoy taking her to his bed.

He might be marrying her out of honor and duty, but there were parts of it he could enjoy. Would enjoy.

“We must do this for Daniele,” he said softly, knowing those words above all others would soothe her. He could tell her they had to marry now, in France, before returning to Montebianco, but he didn’t think it would persuade her.

He could also tell her that his father was furious, that Antonella’s father and brother were demanding retribution, and that unless they married right now, she would very probably be arrested on her return to Montebianco and thrown back into the fortress on charges of receiving stolen property and trafficking in antiquities.

He had no idea whether it was true or not—he was beginning to suspect it wasn’t, though it was still quite odd that priceless art would find its way to a street vendor to be sold for a pittance. And yet nothing in her background indicated she knew the first thing about antiquities. But until they located the vendor, or caught the mastermind behind the theft, Lily was vulnerable to charges.

That was why it was now or never. If she went to prison, he would have Daniele—but his son would not have a mother. He would not marry Princess Antonella and raise his child with her; he had enough experience as the illegitimate child to know how his son would be treated by a woman who hadn’t given birth to him. He would not take the chance that another woman would view his child as a threat, as Queen Tiziana had always viewed him.

Lily was the boy’s mother. No matter how Nico felt about her, his son deserved a mother who cherished him.

“I want to see my son first,” she said. “I want to know he’s safe and well.”

“He will be arriving in Montebianco very soon, cara mia. The plane carrying him left American airspace over five hours ago. There is no reason to wait.”

She looked both elated and crushed at this news—glad she would be reunited with her baby and sad that her friend had betrayed her. Poor Lily, she’d had no idea that everyone had a price, that those closest to you could always be bought.

“It is time, Liliana.”

She still looked hesitant, looked as if she would argue, so he dipped his head and touched his lips to hers—light, brief, the barest caress. And was shocked that he wanted her instantly, wanted to carry her to the back of the plane and the private bedroom there, wanted to make her his before another hour passed.

He would not, of course. When she didn’t resist, he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, testing. She opened to him, and he invaded, tangling his tongue with hers. Their strokes were light at first, teasing. And then, lightning quick, more desperate. He wasn’t sure who was driving the kiss any longer, but he dug down deep and found his control, pulled back.

She looked dazed. Nico kissed her again, pressing his advantage as she leaned into him and clutched his lapels, moaning so softly that only he could hear.

When he lifted his head this time, they were both breathing a little harder. “Marry me now.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Nico pulled her back to the two men before the effect of his kisses wore off and she dug in her heels again. He held her hand firmly in his, tried not to dwell on how small and cold it was. She’d not been cold when he’d known her in New Orleans. She’d been warm and innocent and vibrant. To see that gone from her now was oddly disquieting.

The magistrate said a few words, they answered questions when prompted, then signed a couple of documents—and it was done.

“You will file these immediately, si?” Nico said as Lily drifted away from his side and plopped into a seat as if she were on autopilot.

The magistrate handed the folder to his assistant. “Of course, Your Highness. Congratulations.”

“Grazie.”

The plane was airborne within minutes after the two men left the jet. Lily hadn’t moved from the black leather club chair. She absently held the stem of a champagne glass a flight attendant had handed her. She hadn’t touched the alcohol. Nico waved off the attendant when she came to offer a refill. Lily turned, her expression troubled.

“How did you manage to do that? Aren’t there laws that must be followed when marrying? Didn’t we need blood tests or documents or something? We’re not even French.”

“Neither were they,” he said. At her quizzical look, he continued. “They were from the Montebiancan embassy, cara. This plane, while I am on it, is Montebiancan soil. Legally, we were married in Montebianco, but a copy of our license will be filed in France.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Nico sighed. “The marriage is recognized in France because of a reciprocity agreement we have with them. Even the king cannot dissolve our marriage now.”

He watched as understanding clicked. She was very fast, his wife.

“Your father disapproves, doesn’t he? And you believe he would have refused his permission?”

“Something like that, si. It no longer matters now. You, Principessa Liliana, are my wife.”

He thought she would say more, but she simply lifted the glass in a mock toast. “For better or for worse.” Then she plunked it down untouched and stood, lines of strain bracketing her mouth. “I’m tired. Is there somewhere on this flying palace where I can lie down?”

“But of course,” he murmured. “An attendant will show you.”

Far better to send someone else with her. His blood still hummed from the kisses they’d shared. If he took her to the bedroom, it would not be to rest.

Lily was numb. She’d gone to Paris for the first time in her life, but instead of it being a wonderful memory shared with someone she loved, it was a duty she’d been expected to fulfill. She’d been married in the most romantic city on earth—yet her wedding could hardly be called romantic. She stared at the rock on her hand as they rode in silence from the airport to the Palazzo Cavelli. She, Lily Morgan from Port Pierre, Louisiana, was now a princess. She should be happy, shouldn’t she?

Principessa Liliana. Princess Lily. Neither of them sounded right to her ears.

She glanced at Nico from beneath her lashes. He was so handsome, so remote, and yet he could be tender. Like when he’d kissed her. Dear God, he’d taken her breath away. She hadn’t known who she was or where she was or what she was doing as his mouth slanted over hers. She’d only known hunger and a feeling of rightness that was shocking in its utter conviction. She’d been dazed and ready to do his bidding—which was certainly what he’d intended.

“Marry me now.”

“Yes.”

But how could he kiss her like that when only a day ago he’d been set to marry Princess Antonella and share his life with her?

Lily didn’t understand, and it frustrated her. She had very little experience with men. And all of it was with this particularly exasperating specimen beside her. She had to protect herself, protect her child. She was smart enough to realize that if she didn’t watch out, Nico would thoroughly confuse her. And that was dangerous for Danny most of all. He was her first priority and she must keep a clear head for him.

When they finally reached the palace, the light was waning. The chauffeur opened the door and Nico exited, turning around to hold his hand out for her.

She reminded herself he was acting a role, just as he was when he’d caught her on the stairs to the plane. It was a public facade, a show for any observers. He appeared solicitous, loving—like when he’d kissed her in front of the magistrate and his assistant. He was a very practiced seducer of women, this playboy prince.

She put her hand in his, trying to ignore the sizzle of awareness that blasted through her. As she emerged onto the cobblestone path, her attention snapped to a helicopter buzzing low overhead.

“It is the media,” he said as they started to walk, her hand still caught in his. “I had hoped to keep them away for a day or two longer, but it seems as if the story has broken.”

“But you said someone would call them when you bought the ring. Why is it a surprise?”

Nico’s expression was stormy. “It is not the ring alone that will have brought them. Someone informed them about our trip today.”

She thought of Antonella, wondered if it could have been her. But she was reluctant to say the name to Nico, unwilling to see even a hint of regret or longing in his face. Right now, she felt brittle enough that it wouldn’t take much to shatter her steely facade.

“What do we do now?” The helicopter whirred closer as it made another pass.

He slipped his arm around her and guided her toward the doors that were being held open by two palace guards who snapped a salute as they approached. “We carry on as planned.”

They passed between the doors and into the ornate gallery that was the main entrance. Nico stepped away from her, his arm dropping. She tried not to be disappointed, was in fact angry with herself for even considering it.

“What is the plan?” Lily said, her body still humming in response.

“We are married, Liliana. We will pretend to be deliriously happy with this state of affairs, si? You will be obedient and, while we are in public at least, you will play the role of happy wife.”

Lily nearly swallowed her tongue. He’d taken everything from her in the space of hours and he wanted her to be happy? She still hadn’t come to grips with the fact she would no longer be able to pursue a career, let alone that she’d suddenly become a housewife for all intents and purposes. “Excuse me? I am to be obedient and happy? What is your role in this farce?”

He looked every bit the arrogant prince in that moment. “I have had much practice at living in the public eye. I do not need instruction. You, however, do.”

“So I’m to do as you say, is that it?”

“Si, this would be best.”

“Did you not consider that I might have had a life planned before you interfered?”

He didn’t look in the least sympathetic. “And how could this life compare with what you have gained by marrying me? You will never have to work again, Lily. Many women would kill to be in your situation.”

Lily’s laugh was bitter. “Oh yes, clearly they are banging down the doors. And I’d trade with any one of them in a heartbeat.”

His teeth ground together before he whirled from her and strode in the direction of his apartments. She was so busy trying to keep up that she couldn’t say anything else as she hurried after him, cursing the platform stilettos pinching her feet. He entered his private wing, then crashed to a stop.

Lily slammed into his broad back, cussing. “What the—?”

A child’s giggle registered in her brain.

“Danny!” she cried, darting around Nico’s immobile form and sweeping her little boy into her arms. “Oh my baby, my little sweetie, Mommy missed you so much.”

She hugged him close, burying her nose in his fresh powdery scent. Until this moment, she’d feared she might never see him again. He started to squirm and she lifted her head, smiling at him so broadly her cheeks hurt. He reared his dark head back, his pale blue eyes so much like his father’s as they opened wide to look at her. His little lip trembled.

“It’s Mommy,” Lily said, “Mommy’s here. Oh how I missed you, my darling!”

Danny burst into tears.

Lily closed her eyes in relief when Danny finally drifted off to sleep. It’d scared her when he started crying, but she quickly realized she must look different to him. Plus he’d just had a long trip with a strange lady. Not that this Gisela woman seemed to have any trouble relating to him—in fact, she’d come forward quickly when Danny started to cry, and the little boy reached for her. But the last thing Lily needed was to surrender her child to a stranger and watch her soothe him. Not after everything else that had happened that day.

She’d ripped her hair from its confinement and mussed it up, smiling and talking to him the whole time. He’d calmed when she looked more normal to him, though he was still a bit fussy, and she’d carried him to her bedroom to lay him down for a nap. It was only midday back home, and he was accustomed to that schedule. It would take time to adjust. No one tried to stop her, and indeed she forgot all about Nico and Gisela as she walked to the room she’d stayed in last night with Danny in her arms.

Lily’s heart was near to bursting with love, but her fingers shook as she smoothed a lock of dark hair from her sleeping baby’s face. She’d missed him, and she was frightened for him. For them both. Their lives would never be the same. But for now she was just relieved to see him.

She looked up as the door swung open. Nico stood there, his face clouded with a riot of emotions she didn’t pretend to understand. He’d removed the jacket he’d been wearing. The contrast of the white shirt with his olive skin was stark, delicious in a way she didn’t want to contemplate but couldn’t stop herself from doing. Her husband was a stranger to her, and yet he was connected to her in the most intimate way possible. This child she loved so much was half his.

Half. Lily licked her lips nervously. It seemed incredible they’d come together long enough to make a baby; the man in the entry was so foreign, so unlike anyone she’d ever known. How had they gotten past those differences? How would they ever get past them again?

Nico came over to the bed, gazed down at the child sleeping amidst the pillows Lily had piled around him. Her heart pounded in her temples, her throat. They were so much alike. So very much.

“It is amazing,” he said softly, a touch uncertainly. “I had thought perhaps—”

He shook his head, and Lily bit her lip. She wanted to ask what he’d thought, but wasn’t brave enough to do so.

Nico reached out, and Lily instinctively grabbed his arm. “No,” she said. “You’ll wake him.”

His tortured gaze met hers. It surprised her to see him look so vulnerable, so unsure. He was Nico Cavelli, the Crown Prince of Montebianco—and yet at the moment he looked like a man lost and alone. It made her heart ache. He dropped his hand to his side, and she felt that aching guilt all over again. Was it truly so wrong to let him touch his son? Or was she being overprotective? She didn’t know, and yet instinct made her want to enclose her baby in her arms and never let anyone touch him for fear they would take him away from her.

“I have always been so careful,” Nico said, still watching his child. “This was not supposed to happen.”

“No,” Lily whispered. “But I’m not sorry it did.”

Nico’s sharp gaze turned on her. “Indeed not. You have gained a kingdom out of the bargain, and more wealth than you could have dreamed possible.”

Lily gritted her teeth in an effort not to scream at him. “I was talking about our son. I could care less about the rest of it.”

He snorted in disbelief. “Yes, very easy for you to say when there is no question you’ve benefited enormously from giving birth to my heir.”

Anger and hurt warred in her breast. And the desire to lash out. “I do hope you’ve made sure he’s yours before you committed your esteemed royal self to us for life.”

He looked at his son. “There is no denying this child belongs to me. But even so, I am certain of it.”

A prickling sensation danced on hot feet over her skin. “How? How are you certain, Nico?”

His gaze was haughty. “No matter how strong the resemblance or how convincing the evidence, did you think I would not order a paternity test? He is mine.”

Lily grabbed his arm. The muscle beneath her fingers was warm and unyielding. “You stuck a needle in my baby without telling me? How dare you!” She wasn’t surprised he’d done it, now that she thought about it, nor was she surprised he could get the results lightning fast. But still, she was furious about the pain it would have caused Danny to have blood drawn. If her baby hadn’t been wearing long sleeves, she’d have noticed the mark.

“Do not be a hypocrite, cara. He’s been vaccinated, which certainly involves needles the last time I checked. It was a necessary precaution.”

Lily glared at him. Her voice shook as she spoke. “Don’t you ever do anything to my child again without permission.”

“You mean our child, Lily.” Danger saturated his words, warning her to beware. He shrugged out of her grip, turned away to look at Danny sleeping. “This is my son. He will be king someday.”

And then he began speaking in Italian, shutting her out completely. Lily didn’t say anything as he spoke quietly, though she trembled from the force of the emotions whipping through her. Danny was no longer solely hers, no longer her little boy to raise and love. He was a prince, a future king, an exalted being she couldn’t understand from her perspective as a small-town American girl. Would he despise her someday?

She couldn’t bear to think it, and she sucked in a sharp breath as Nico reached out and touched Danny’s cheek. This time, she didn’t try to stop him.

A moment later, he turned to her, his gaze icy. “We dine in an hour. Be ready.”

Lily crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Why did she feel as if events were escaping her before she could truly understand them?

“I think I should stay with Danny. He’s had a long day. He needs me.”

“Gisela is qualified to look after him, I assure you. She is a very fine nanny.”

“I don’t want a nanny,” Lily protested. “There’s no need.”

He shook his head, clearly pitying her. The thought made her angry. And bewildered. Why did she feel so out of sorts around him? Why did she let him intimidate her? She’d spent three evenings with him two years ago, and she’d never once felt less than his equal. Now? Oh God, now she felt as though she would never measure up, as though everything he said or did was a criticism. She was out of her depth, and she resented it. Resented him.

“You have much to learn, Lily. Princesses have many duties. A nanny is required if you are to perform them all.”

Lily took a deep breath. “He needs a mother, not a nanny.”

“Dinner is in an hour,” Nico said. “We are dining with the king and queen. Refusal is not an option.”

Lily couldn’t find her voice as he walked away. At the door, he turned back. “Wear something formal. Gisela will come to look after our son.”

Dinner was held in the king and queen’s private apartments in a different wing of the palace. If Nico’s quarters were grand, these were opulent. Lily tried not to stare wide-eyed at the priceless paintings, the frescoes and bas-reliefs, the gilding and the footmen, who looked as if they’d been plucked from another era complete with powdered wigs and silk knee pants.

Earlier, she’d thought Nico believed her incompetent because he’d sent not one, but two women to help her dress. Thank God he’d done so. She had to acknowledge that she’d have never managed alone. She was gowned in a dress as fine as anything a movie star had ever worn to a Hollywood awards ceremony, her hair was pinned into a smooth chignon, and she sported an absolute fortune in jewels. Nico had placed the diamond choker around her neck himself, and she’d put on the earrings and bracelet with shaking hands while he thankfully refrained from commenting.

And yet, in the hour since they’d been here, the queen refused to look at her and the king frowned a lot. Worse, they spoke in Italian. Or perhaps that was ideal since she didn’t have to formulate responses to any questions or think up appropriate conversation.

She had no idea what they spoke about, and yet she could see the tension lining Nico’s face. Especially when Queen Tiziana said anything. His fist clenched on the table each time. She wasn’t even certain he was aware of it. What must it have been like growing up with these two for parents? The thought made her shiver involuntarily.

What had she gotten herself into?

She vowed that Danny would never spend a single moment in their company without her being present. She wasn’t certain if they were truly cold, or if it was simply some sort of royal reserve. Perhaps they were perfectly nice people once you got to know them—but she thoroughly doubted it. And until she knew for certain she would protect her son fiercely.

When Nico stood and informed her it was time to leave, she put her hand in his without argument and allowed him to lead her from the table. The king said something, but Nico ignored him. The king spoke again, more sharply, and Nico ground to a halt.

Slowly, he turned, spoke a few words and bowed. The king’s face softened, though the queen’s did not.

“Good night, my son,” he said. “And goodnight, Liliana. Thank you for joining us.”

Lily blinked and dropped into her best grade-school curtsy. It seemed the appropriate thing to do. “Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty.”

By the time they entered Nico’s quarters, Lily had managed to work herself into a temper. Why had he forced her to endure that? It was humiliating. Even when she’d been working the ten to two a.m. shift at Lucky’s gas station for minimum wage, she’d never been so mortified. It was as if she’d been invisible.

“What happened tonight?” she asked, an edge to her voice as she dropped her wrap on a velvet couch.

Nico’s gaze was shuttered as he contemplated her. “You dined with their royal majesties, the King and Queen of Montebianco. Charming, are they not?”

She didn’t think he required an answer. Indeed, he went and poured a measure of brandy into a glass, held it up in silent question. Lily shook her head. He stoppered the crystal decanter and moved to a window, his back to her, one hand in his pocket as he sipped the drink.

Oddly, she felt sorry for him. And worried for her own child. “It must have been quite different growing up in a palace,” she said. “I never realized how different.”

She turned her head to look at her surroundings, seeing them for the first time in a different light. How would a toddler ever play in a room like this? It was filled to the brim with things that could break or be stained in the blink of an eye. And with things that could injure—sharp corners, glass, small objects that could be swallowed.

In short, it was a nightmare.

“True,” he said. “But I haven’t always lived here. I spent the first six years of my life with my mother.”

Lily blinked. “Your mother? But, I thought the queen—”

Nico laughed, but the sound was more a snort of derision. “Queen Tiziana is not my mother, cara. My mother died many years ago.”

Lily twisted the rock on her hand, suddenly uncomfortable. Moments like this, she regretted never learning more about the man who’d fathered her child. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It matters not,” he replied. “Life is uncertain, si? We cannot look back with regret. It changes nothing.”

She felt her anger dissipating, her curiosity about her husband growing. Clearly his life had not been one of unbroken perfection. “Where did you live before coming here? Was it very far?”

He took a seat opposite her, the brandy cradled in his palm. “Not far enough.”

Lily didn’t quite know what to say to that. She didn’t think he meant to share so much—but perhaps he did. Did it change her opinion of him, knowing he’d lost his mother at an early age and been taken in by that icy couple sitting in their miserable grandeur on the opposite end of the palace?

She didn’t want to soften toward him, didn’t want to have a reason to look at him differently. He’d forced her to marry him, had bribed Carla to turn over Danny, had uprooted her life and changed it so thoroughly she could never go back. And he’d done it all without any care for her wishes.

She despised him and his autocratic ways. And yet—

“My mother had an apartment in Castello del Bianco, and a luxury villa a few miles south on the coast. It was not a bad life.” He shrugged, leaned forward. “I’m sorry you had to sit through dinner with them, Liliana. My father is truly not so bad, but when the queen is near, he is more reserved. He is angry with me, but he can do nothing to change it now. He will get over it.”

“I—thank you.” Good grief, she certainly hadn’t expected that!

He stood and set the drink on a side table. “Come, let me remove that necklace for you.”

Lily’s hand fluttered to her throat. Oh yes, the necklace. The one with the tricky clasp that she’d never manage on her own. He’d changed gears so quickly it threw her, but she went to him, turned and waited, her pulse thrumming so fast that he must surely see it beating in her throat.

His hands, large and smooth, settled on her bare shoulders, sent a chill skimming down the indent of her spine. Lily didn’t speak, in fact didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until his fingers slid toward the nape of her neck and it rattled out of her in a shaky sigh.

“So,” he said, his fingertips slipping beneath the diamond choker, stroking her skin with little motions that made her crazy, made a feeling she didn’t want to examine shoot straight to the liquid center of her, “it is our wedding night, cara. What would you have us do first?”

“D-do?”

“Si, there are many things we could do.” His lips touched her nape, lifted after the barest shivering caress. “Or perhaps we should go straight to bed.”