Chapter Nine

NICO COULDN’T breathe properly. Every lungful of air was filled with the sweet scent of the woman beside him—she smelled like flowers and spring rain with a hint of cinnamon; she smelled like the Lily he remembered. He gently traced the line of the sheet where it lay above the swell of her breasts. He ached with the need to lose himself in her once more, but he knew he should not demand it of her. Not again tonight.

She lay with her head to one side, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling evenly. They’d both fallen asleep after the second time, but now he was awake—wide-awake—and wondering what he should do.

If she’d been one of his mistresses, he’d have dressed and left her apartment. Not that he never spent the night with a woman—he often did—but just as often he felt the need to return to his own home and enjoy his solitude. Tonight he wanted no such thing.

“Nico,” she breathed.

“Yes, tesoro mio?”

“I should check on Danny again—”

“I went a little while ago. He is sound asleep. As you should be.” He threaded his fingers between hers, kissed her knuckles.

“You’re not.”

“I do not need much sleep.”

“Maybe our son gets it from you then,” she said, yawning. She turned into him and he wrapped his arms around her, pressed her naked body against him. Why had he waited so long to take her to his bed? He dipped his head, touched his lips to her shoulder.

It was far more pleasant this way. He flexed his hips against her and her breath caught.

“Oh…”

“Good oh or bad oh?”

“Definitely good. But Nico,” she said, a note of worry creeping into her voice.

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure I can do this again tonight. It’s, um, it’s been a while.”

He tried not to react, but he felt his body stiffen as he wondered exactly when the last time for her was. And who it was with. “I understand, cara.”

“Do you?” she said, her hand resting on his cheek. “Because that felt a lot like you didn’t.”

He turned into her palm, kissed it. “Has it been very long since the last time?”

She laughed. “Yeah, two years.”

He stilled. Blinked. She could not be telling him what he thought she was telling him. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

She kissed his chin. “You did. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.”

A fierce feeling of satisfaction permeated his entire being. She was his, had only ever been his. “How is this possible?” he asked. “Sei bellisima, Liliana. Any man would kill to have you.”

“I never found another one I wanted,” she said very softly.

“You do me much honor,” he replied, uncertain what else he could say to express how grateful he was for the gift of her innocence and trust two years ago, and for her confession now. It was primitive of him, but he liked knowing she’d only been his.

She laughed. “Oh, Nico, you make it sound like we’re living in the Middle Ages or something. For a man who knows how to do the things you do with your tongue, you sound awfully formal and prudish just now.”

“Do I?” He grinned at her. “Perhaps I should remind you how wicked I can be, yes? I’m sure I can think of a few things that won’t abuse your tenderness.”

“I’m counting on it,” she said breathlessly as he rolled her to her back and began another thorough exploration of her delightful body.

Lily had no idea what time she awoke, but when she did she found that Nico had made her breakfast again—only this time he served it in bed. When she finished eating, he ran her a bath in the gorgeous sunken tub, shedding his wet clothes to join her after she playfully splashed him.

She climbed on his lap, facing him, her legs wrapped around him and their bodies touching in that most intimate of places. He was engorged, ready for her, yet he made no move to enter her in spite of the way she rubbed against him.

Instead, he held her gently, grabbed a sponge and squeezed it over her breasts. Her nipples were tight little points that seemed to tighten even more when the air drifted over her wet body.

“Dio santo, you are beautiful,” he said.

She wasn’t, but she loved to hear him say it. Loved him, in fact. How had she committed such a colossal mistake? She had no idea, but she didn’t care. She was in love with the man she was bound to for life. How bad could it be? He could learn to love her eventually, she was sure of it.

He was not like her father. Nico had honor and dignity. He loved their son, he cherished her body, and he felt deeply about many things. He was a man capable of love; he would not abandon her to raise their son alone, would not leave her for long stretches of time and then return and ask to be forgiven only to repeat the entire cycle in a few months or years.

Would he?

No, of course not.

“You’re beautiful, too,” she said, reaching beneath the water to wrap her hand around him.

His breath caught. “You are insatiable, cara. I quite like it,” he finished, dropping the sponge and fusing his mouth to hers. While he kissed her, she managed to wriggle herself up high enough that the tip of him nudged her entrance. She caught his moan in her mouth, then gave it back to him when he thrust the rest of the way inside her.

“I am yours, Liliana,” he said brokenly. “Do with me what you will.”

Hers.

She’d never felt more powerful in her life as she began to move her hips. His head tilted back on the edge of the tub, his eyes drifted closed, and joy suffused her. She rode him slowly at first, drawing out the torment for them both. But then she needed more, so much more. Water sloshed over the rim of the tub to soak the tile, but he didn’t seem to care.

And, oh God, neither did she.

“Nico,” she gasped as her body began to shudder. No, not yet.

She changed the angle, slowed her thrusts. But he caught her hips tight, held her in such a way that she took him deeper with each thrust.

His eyes opened, burning into her. Burning for her.

“Take me, Lily. Take all of me,” he growled.

This man, this gorgeous beautiful prince, was in ecstasy because of her, because of what she did to him. It amazed her, and humbled her. And sent her tumbling over the edge far too quickly when she wanted to drag it out forever.

“Nico,” she cried as she shattered. “Nico, oh, I…” I love you.

Her heart was full with all she felt and could not say. It was too new, too raw, and she wasn’t yet sure how to deal with it. He held her rigid when she would have folded against him and drove into her again and again, drawing out the pleasure for them both. When she came a second time, he was with her, his groan mingling with her sharp cry.

“I’m sorry, Lily. Don’t cry,” he said long moments later when her heart rate had almost returned to normal. He held her gently, fingers dancing up and down her spine. “It is my fault. I should not have made love to you again so soon. You make me lose control when I should know better.”

She reached up to touch her cheeks, realized they were moist with tears. “Oh. No, I’m fine, really. It’s just so…overwhelming.”

“Si, it is that,” he said, tucking a lock of her damp hair behind her ear. “There have been many changes for you.”

That wasn’t what she meant, but how could she tell him?

“And for you.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Nico. I should have contacted you when I found out I was pregnant. I made a mistake.”

His gaze was troubled, but then it seemed to pass. “We will have to make another baby, yes? A little brother or sister for Daniele.”

Lily’s heart ached with love and a feeling of rightness. “He would like that. I would like that,” she finished somewhat shyly considering what had just happened between them.

Nico’s grin was genuine. “It is my solemn mission, cara. I shall rise to the occasion—just as soon as I recover from this one.”

They returned to the city that afternoon, the journey seeming to weigh on Nico with every mile. The closer they got, the less he spoke, the less he smiled, the less he seemed the same man to her. Lily concentrated on the white buildings and red roofs in the distance, feeling as if Castello del Bianco were a tangible force drawing the life from her husband. And she didn’t know how to fix it.

By the time they reached the Palazzo Cavelli, he’d returned to the coolly arrogant prince she’d thought was gone forever. It confused and irritated her. What had happened to the effortlessly sensual man she’d had a bath with this morning? The man who’d shared his body and his soul with her, cooked her breakfast and slept with a toddler on his chest?

This man, this prince, was not the sort of person who would do any of those things.

Had she judged him wrongly once more? Had she made him into what she wanted him to be when in fact he only did what was expedient to his wishes?

He didn’t stick around for long once they were inside their apartment. He said he had to meet with the king, then left without so much as a smile or a kind word. Lily stared at the closed door for long minutes after he’d gone. Fear, anger and hurt mixed in her stomach, pounded through her with the refrain that she wasn’t really a princess, that she’d given her heart to a man who didn’t love her in return, and that she’d lost any chance she’d ever had at happiness when she’d married him. He’d taken her career, such as it was, her baby and her heart.

After Lily checked on Danny, she retreated to the room she now shared with Nico. The opulence of the palace no longer staggered her, but still her breath caught at the magnificent antique bed, the gilded walls and plush furniture, the marble and crystal and priceless paintings. It was like living in a museum. She, who’d only been to a single art museum in her life, now lived in the middle of one.

It only added to her Alice-in-Wonderland confusion.

A knock on the door sounded and she turned toward it, almost grateful for the interruption.

“Yes?” she said, and then wondered if there was something else she was supposed to say. What did princesses say? You may enter?

A young woman in the palace staff uniform entered, her eyes downcast. “Scusi, Principessa. For you,” she finished, holding out a box.

“Grazie,” Lily replied. The girl shot her a wary smile, then backed out of the room and closed the door.

Lily went over to a table and pulled the lid off the box. She lifted out a stack of newspapers and magazines, confused as to why they’d been sent to her.

Until she realized that it was her picture in a grainy news photo. The paper was in Italian, so she shuffled through until she found something she understood:

Crown Prince Marries Daughter of Alcoholic Stripper, Endangers Relations with Neighbor

By the time Nico made it back to his quarters, he was mentally exhausted. He’d spent the last several hours wrangling with King Paolo and his father over the state of the treaty between their nations.

Paolo had at first demanded he divorce Lily, repudiate his son and marry Antonella. The man was insane and Nico didn’t mind saying so. His father, however, urged a different course. Paolo was posturing for the best deal he could and using whatever ammunition he had in his arsenal to get it. The public humiliation of his daughter was fairly substantial in his mind, though it would never have escalated to this point had he not bandied it in the press. Nico felt sorry for Antonella, but only because her father was a self-important fool. She was a beautiful woman and would command many offers for her hand once her father let this go.

Now, Paolo wanted to hold further talks about the treaty in Monteverde. Nico didn’t want to go, but his father urged him to do so. As Crown Prince, it was his duty. As architect of the current impasse, it was his responsibility. He could hardly refuse the invitation. To be seen in Monteverde, with his wife, would go a long way toward normalizing relations. It would show that Montebianco needed Monteverde’s goodwill, and it would give Paolo a chance to appear both important and magnanimous.

The residence was quiet when he entered. He wasn’t as late as he’d thought he might be, though perhaps Lily had gone to bed. Nico headed for the bedroom, anticipation pumping through his veins. Would his wife be naked in their bed, waiting for him? Would she be dressed in something slinky and enticing? Or would she be wearing that silly shirt with the cat on it?

It didn’t matter which garment she wore—or didn’t wear—because his reaction was the same with each image in his head. He wanted her, plain and simple.

But when he opened the door, the sight he found was not what he’d hoped for.

Papers littered the floor. Lily sat in the center of them, reading. She looked up at him, her eyes red. “Hullo, Nico. Have a good day at the office?”

He crossed over and snatched a paper off the floor. Fury settled into his bones like a permanent chill when he realized what these were. He would make whoever did this pay. An upended box lay under the table, and he knew that someone had saved everything until they’d returned.

Queen Tiziana, no doubt. It was just like her to be so heartless. The more innocent the victim, the crueler she could be. Her treatment of him had changed in proportion to his size and age, but when he’d first arrived, he’d been fresh meat. Just as Lily was. If the queen outlived his father, she would be lucky if Nico didn’t banish her from the kingdom entirely.

He’d known there would be articles, but he’d avoided the papers during their honeymoon. He regretted it now. He was so accustomed to shrugging off what they said that he hadn’t stopped to think he might need to prepare his wife better.

Obviously, he’d been wrong.

“They know everything,” Lily said numbly. “My mother, my father—the town I grew up in, the fact our family took public assistance, that my mother once stripped for a living. They called me a gold digger, said I tricked you, that Danny isn’t yours—”

“I know Danny is mine.”

She waved the paper she was holding. “Yes, well maybe you’d like to tell them that? Issue a statement perhaps?”

“It does no good to answer these swine,” he bit out.

She climbed to her feet, faced him squarely. Fury, he was surprised to see, was the dominant emotion. “I don’t know how to do this, Nico. I’m not a princess. I’m not meant for this. I won’t let them hurt Danny—”

“No one will hurt Danny,” he vowed.

“Then you will make them retract these lies?”

“Montebianco is a free society, Lily. I can’t make them do anything. Nor can I make the European gossip rags do what I wish, either. The best course is to ignore them.”

She looked stunned. “Ignore them? You would ignore people calling your son a bastard and your wife a whore?”

Nico stiffened. “I’m a bastard, cara. And I assure you it makes no difference. The furor will die down soon enough. You are the Crown Princess now, you must learn to handle these things.”

“I didn’t realize that part of the job was learning to ignore lies and put up with insults.”

“You worked for a newspaper,” he said harshly. “How can this surprise you?”

“I worked with reporters who had integrity, Nico. No one would dare to print a lie that was easily disproved. It isn’t professional.”

Nico raked a hand through his hair. “Yes, well tabloids don’t have the same standards. They thrive on lies, the more outrageous the better.”

She gaped at him. “How can you be so dismissive? It’s embarrassing to me, but it makes you look incompetent.”

“You are missing the point, Lily. It doesn’t matter. It will go away tomorrow, or the next day. As soon as there’s nothing left to feed on, they will move on to another target.” He reached for her. “Come, let’s go to bed and forget this. It will look better in the morning.”

She jerked away. “I can’t believe you would allow an insult to our son to go unchallenged. Of course I don’t expect you to defend me, but—”

“There’s nothing to defend,” he roared. “Cavolo, I don’t have time for this! We are flying to Monteverde tomorrow. I need you to be prepared.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, looked away. Her chin quivered and guilt speared him. Perhaps he should be more patient, should help her through this with more compassion. He’d had a bad afternoon, but that was no excuse. “Lily—”

“Monteverde?” she cut in. “Isn’t that where Princess Antonella lives?”

“Si.”

Her laugh was unexpected. “Fabulous, just fabulous. What if I refuse?”

Cold anger flooded him. “You cannot refuse. It’s your duty.”

“No, it’s your duty.”

Nico stiffened. “You are my wife, Liliana. We will be in Monteverde tomorrow night, and you will appear to be happy about it.”

“Of course, Your Supreme Majesty,” she bit out. “Is there anything else you wish to command, oh Lord of Everything?”

“Lily,” he said, unable to keep the sudden weariness from his voice.

She sucked in a breath, her chin quivering faster now. He knew it wasn’t from weakness, but from anger that she cried. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Nico. I’m here because you forced me to be here. You’ve tried to turn me into something I’m not. If you don’t like how I do the job of being your wife, then you have only yourself to blame for making a poor choice.”

Nico gritted his teeth. “I did not force you to give me your virginity two years ago, nor did I rip the condom so you would get pregnant. It happened, Lily. Now we deal with it.”

She made a sweeping motion with her hand. “So this is how we deal with it? Ignore the lies and hope they’ll go away? Have you stopped to think what might happen when they actually manage to track my mother down in whatever third-rate honky-tonk dive she’s holding up a bar stool in and ask her how it feels to have a daughter marry a prince?”

“They won’t find her.”

She went very still. “What do you mean they won’t find her?”

“Because I found her first. She’s in a treatment facility.”

She looked as if he just said he’d sold her mother into slavery. But of course he’d had her family investigated. And what he’d learned about her mother necessitated action. The woman had been drunk in a Baton Rouge nightclub when his people found her. And, contrary to Lily’s belief, she was most certainly still stripping for a living. Once she’d sobered, she couldn’t even remember her grandson’s name. Had, in fact, insisted she wasn’t old enough to be a grandmother.

“You sent my mother to rehab? Without telling me?” He watched as a range of emotions crossed her face. Her voice sounded hollow when she spoke. “I haven’t talked with her since shortly after Danny was born. How did you find her? Why?”

“I have many resources. And I had to do something for precisely the reason you’ve stated.”

“I wanted to help her, but she never would listen and I didn’t have the money…” He had no idea what she might do next, but she suddenly gave up the fight and crumpled into a nearby chair. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? I should have known you would.”

“I have no choice, Lily. I must do what’s best for Montebianco at all times.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you married me.”

“There was no choice in that, either. I married you because we have a child together.”

She laughed, but the sound was broken. Then she swiped her fingers beneath her eyes. “Not the best criteria, was it? But duty called, I suppose.”

He resented the way she made it sound as if he’d committed a crime. He’d done what was right. And he’d done it at a personal cost that was still being tallied. “Yes.”

“I wish you’d considered how it would affect me and Danny before you imposed your royal will.”

His brows drew together. What could he have done differently? He’d given them wealth and privilege and a life far removed from what it would have been. “Your lives are immeasurably better now that we are married.”

She speared him with a watery gaze. “Oh yes, very much so. I’ve never been happier.”

In spite of her sarcasm, he wanted to go to her, wanted to sweep her up and take her to bed and make this whole thing go away. Because she had been happy just a few hours ago—he’d have staked everything he had on it.

But she wouldn’t welcome him with open arms, not like this morning. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He went and picked up the phone, gave orders for someone to come clean up the mess.

“Go to bed, Lily,” he said over his shoulder. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

She didn’t answer for a long minute. When she did, her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear. But he didn’t miss a word.

“I liked the man I knew in New Orleans, the one I spent the last few days with. Where is he? Because I don’t like the Crown Prince very much at all.”

Nico swallowed a hard knot in his throat. Was he so different when he was here in the palace? He knew he felt more constrained, but he’d not thought he completely submerged his personality beneath the pomp and circumstance of his duty. Perhaps he did. Perhaps she was far more perceptive than he.

“I am the same man,” he said without turning around.

“I wish that were true. But I don’t believe it is.”

A few moments later, he heard papers shifting and crinkling as she stood and walked across the floor. A door closed. For the longest time, he heard nothing else. And then the snick of the lock fell into place.

The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Lily welcomed the distraction. She was caught in a flurry of fittings and beauty appointments to prepare for the gathering at the Romanellis’ residence in Monteverde later that night. Unlike the trip to Paris, these women came to the palace to attend her. Gisela brought Danny in from time to time, and he amused the ladies to no end with his baby chatter and adorable antics. Lily was gratified by the comments that he looked exactly like his father.

Of course he did. Anyone with eyes could see he was his father’s child, and yet she was still angry with Nico for refusing to correct the tabloids. When she’d worked at the Register, people sent in corrections to stories all the time. And the paper printed them.

She’d thought she wanted to be a journalist someday, but now she knew that was impossible. And she’d realized, after last night, that she really didn’t have the necessary bulldog attitude it required. Some of what the papers said was true—her mother’s alcohol addiction, the fact she’d once been a stripper—but Lily would never be able to write something so cruel and see it published if it meant someone would be hurt by it.

She’d been lulled by her short time at the Register into thinking that all papers and all stories were like the ones in her hometown. Naive of her, she knew. Especially now. She was news, and whatever a reporter could dig up about her was fair game. No wonder Nico was so jaded about fighting back.

But when he had right on his side, she refused to understand how he couldn’t fight the battles that mattered. She didn’t so much care about herself, though it hurt that Nico wouldn’t defend her, but Danny, her sweet baby—he did not deserve the aspersions on his parenthood.

It had infuriated her to read them. This morning, she’d asked for the papers to be delivered to her. She’d thought Nico might have issued orders to the contrary, but within moments a maid brought all the English language papers she could find. The articles had thinned somewhat, though there was a picture of her and Nico on the motorcycle. And a grainier one of them and Danny on the beach.

She scanned the articles, then bunched the papers up and stuffed them in the trash. Privacy was no longer a guarantee. It would take getting used to, but she would survive it, same as she’d survived everything else in her life. It would take more than a few negative stories to defeat her.

By the time evening fell, Lily hadn’t seen Nico all day. When she’d gone to bed last night, she’d locked the door. She’d been angry, and maybe she’d behaved childishly, but she hadn’t expected him to avoid her completely. She’d spent a very lonely night awake on cool sheets, aching for the man she loved and dying inside because he wasn’t the person she’d begun to think he was.

He’d married her for Danny. She wasn’t stupid; she’d known it was the truth. And yet, to hear him say it so baldly, so blandly—it squeezed her heart into a tiny ball. She’d done everything wrong. She’d meant to insulate her heart from him, meant to learn how to live with him without falling for him—but she’d failed.

And now she was paying for it. Was this what her mother had felt all those years? This aching emptiness that could only be filled by one man? Maybe so, but she would not be the woman her mother had been. Danny was her priority. Nico did not care about her, so she would not expend her energy agonizing over him.

She would do her duty, but that was all. She would go to Monteverde and smile as though she was the happiest princess in the world.

After she was dressed, she awaited Nico in the living area. She’d been gowned in the most exquisite silver dress that hugged her curves from breast to ankle. The dress had a small train, and she’d been fitted with a sash like the one he’d worn the first night she came to the palace. Long white gloves went up to her elbows, and a diamond tiara perched on her head. She’d stared at herself in the mirror for long minutes, unable to believe the sight of all those diamonds winking like a neon sign.

When she was eight, she’d had a cheap plastic tiara with paste jewels that her mother had gotten from a thrift store. She’d shut the door to her room and pretend to be a princess, waltzing with her prince at a grand ball. Every night, until the tiara disappeared in one of their moves. She’d cried for a week. That her life should now imitate her childhood dreams was too surreal.

But in her dreams, the prince loved her. Too bad reality was so different.

When Nico entered the room, her heart leaped at the sight of him. He was resplendent in the ceremonial uniform of the Montebiancan navy. Though he had the sash and medals, this time the sword was missing. He drew up short when he saw her.

“Sei belissima, Principessa,” he said.

Lily clasped her trembling hands together. She’d had protocol lessons today, but she had to admit she was nervous about this evening. “Thank you. I think.”

He smiled as if nothing bad had happened between them. “It means you are beautiful.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor, swallowed. She couldn’t look at him and pretend nothing was wrong.

“You are prepared for this?” he asked.

Lily lifted her head. “Yes. I will do my duty, Nico.”

She didn’t have to wonder if he heard the bitter twist she put on the word. Something sparked in his eyes—but was it guilt or resentment?

Or neither?

He held out his arm for her in silence. She took it and they headed for their waiting helicopter. She was beginning to understand that she really didn’t know him at all, no matter what they might have shared.

He’d married her for Danny’s sake. But if duty demanded it, would he divorce her just as quickly?