Chapter Six
Mario squeezed my hand and grinned. “Come outside with me. There’s a nice park nearby.”
I welcomed some time alone with him, but then there was his bodyguard. Ernesto would have to come along, so we really weren’t having much privacy.
Outside, stars pierced the blanket of the night sky. White flowers beside the house reflected the moon’s light and gave off a refreshing smell like crocuses in the early spring. Here, as in Texas, crickets and katydids buzzed.
Ernesto walked with us, and another guard, a big hulk of a guy named Dean hired by Mario’s family followed us.
Mario held my hand, his warm fingers intertwined with mine. I liked the way he squeezed my hand and smiled at me. “Luckily,” he said, “we haven’t seen any paparazzi.”
“I’d send them away,” Ernesto said.
When we got to the park, Dean went on ahead to scout around while Ernesto stayed in the background. I caught a glimpse of him looking around checking for danger, but the area was deserted. The grass was mowed and the flowerbeds free of weeds. An occasional branch dipped low, but I the trees had been trimmed so as not to bother people walking along the pavement.
A full moon shone on roses in different shades of red, pink, and yellow. Their scents tempted me to smell one, and I bent down to sniff. As I looked up Mario met my gaze. “I don’t need to smell them. I prefer your scent.”
He stopped beside a tree and gently urged me back to lean against it. “You look lovely in the moonlight.” He fingered a curl. “And I do like your hair.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Did my red hair still remind him of his ex-girlfriend? His mother had praised her so. I wondered if he still missed her. Now that I’d gotten to know him better, it hurt to think I might not be more than a passing fancy. “I know it’s none of my business, but I have to ask. Was your ex-girlfriend as agreeable as your mother suggested?” I was about to tell him he didn’t need to answer, but he shook his head.
“She was all politeness and consideration when she was with my parents. As soon as we left the house, whatever activity I’d suggested, she’d find fault with. But she didn’t stop there. She’d say my shirt wasn’t the latest fashion. Being a gentleman, I’d agree with the place she suggested, which was usually expensive. Of course, that wasn’t a problem, but I wondered if she only went with me to be taken to fancy places. She kept saying it was important for my career to be seen there.”
“But isn’t it more important to practice and be a good player on the field?”
“Of course. Now that you mention it, she did seem to enjoy sitting in a special spot at the games. We’d always have access to tickets for good seats.”
“Thanks again for getting Stephanie and me good seats for the game against France. We could see everything really well.”
He touched my cheek. I liked his touch—too much. I was dying to feel those sensuous lips against mine again.
“I was glad to give you those tickets,” he said. He smoothed his fingers over the side of my face, causing goosebumps on my skin.
“It felt good,” he said, “to know you girls were cheering for Monterra and especially for me. With all the yelling you did, I hope you didn’t get hoarse.”
I shook my head. He moved his face closer. My pulse sped up. He was going to kiss me. Just because his mother didn’t care for me, didn’t mean I was going to miss out on a kiss or two—and I hoped there might be more.
His lips met mine. I reveled in the touch. His kiss was everything I dreamed of and more, even better than last time. I put both hands on his shoulders and kissed him back. He pulled me closer until my breasts were pressed against his hard chest. He smelled woodsy and felt warm. His mouth roved over mine, exploring my lips and skin. His tongue pushed against my lips, seeking entrance. I let him search my mouth, and then pushed my tongue inside his. Our tongues tangled, and my heart pounded. I couldn’t get enough of him. My breaths came faster, and my heart was pounding fast. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, climbing swiftly up a hill. Would I come crashing down when it was time to leave, and he didn’t mention wanting to see me again?
Finally, he released me and moved his face away just a little. His smile beamed, and his eyes twinkled. “Kissing you is like tasting the sweetest, creamiest dessert I can imagine.”
He hugged me and his mouth descended on mine again, sending delicious shivers down my back. I couldn’t help responding. I kissed him back until I had to break away to breathe. And then I sprinkled little kisses all over his face.
He grinned broadly. “No one’s kissed me like that—like you adore me.”
I did, but I wasn’t going to let him know how much. Suddenly at a loss for words, I finally got out, “I like you. I really do. And I love kissing you.”
He pulled me back against his warm chest and pressed his lips to mine again. I kissed him back, forgetting all my reservations. I stopped worrying about how he felt about me and just showed him how much I liked him. And from the way he kissed back, I knew he really liked me. I felt wonderful and tingly all over.
Someone cleared his throat. I’d been so caught up with Mario and his wonderful kisses I’d forgotten all about Ernesto. Now, he was only three feet away. How had he come up so quietly? It was a good thing he was guarding us, for I wouldn’t have heard anyone coming.
“Your Highness,” Ernesto said. “You’d better leave now. There’s a man hiding behind a tree. He’s been moving closer.”
My pulse stepped up a beat. How much danger were we in?
Mario took my hand. “Come. Let’s go home.” He set off at a brisk pace.
I matched his stride. My heart beat faster. I could think about what his kisses meant later. Now, we’d better hurry.
I looked back. Now the tall lean man was running toward us. Ernesto blocked his way. “He’s got a club,” I said.
“Run,” Mario said, grabbing my hand.
It was all I could do to keep up with him. I was running out of breath.
He stopped about thirty feet away and released my hand. “Go to my home,” Mario said. “Ernesto, and Dean will take care of him.”
Dean was calling on his phone as he ran toward us. I didn’t see a gun in either guard’s hand. Afraid for Mario, I ran to the edge of the park and hid behind the trunk of a huge tree. Damn I’d left my purse with my phone at the house. I didn’t know if Mario or Ernesto had theirs. I stood there, clutching the tree with my knees shaking. Surely, Ernesto and Dean could fight him off.
I peeked around the tree. Ernesto stood, one hand clenched into a fist, the other holding his phone. The tall lean man faced him, holding the club. Another stockier man came out from behind a tree and stepped up beside them. Both had determined chins.
Ernesto said something to the men and spoke into his phone. The first guy raised the club. Ernesto shoved his phone in his pocket and reached for the club. He grabbed the club from the first guy and tossed it down. Ernesto socked and punching the first intruder. The other man stood, fists ready. My fingers gripped the tree’s rough bark. My heart beat even faster than when Mario had been kissing me.
Ernesto fought back against the stocky man’s blows. The first guy punched Ernesto’s shoulder. Dean paused in front of Mario, whose fists were clenched. “Stand back, Your Highness, we’ll take care of them.”
Ernesto tripped the stocky guy. The man jumped right up and punched Ernesto again. I couldn’t see where the punch landed. Ernesto’s oomph hinted it was his belly.
Dean pointed a gun at one of the two men. “Put your hands up.”
He complied, but the tall man reached for the club. Ernesto was quicker and trained a gun on him. “Don’t touch that club. Put your hands up.”
Sirens sounded. I welcomed the shrill blast. Two cops from separate patrol cars approached the four. “Stand down,” barked one.
Feeling safer, I walked around the tree so I could hear. The fighters and the guards all talked at once. A cop held up his arm, glared at them all and pointed to Ernesto. The office was apparently speaking in Catalan, but I guessed he was asking who started the fight.
Ernesto started explaining and pointed at the two men who’d attacked.
Dean added something, also in Catalan.
The second cop looked at Mario and asked him something.
Mario nodded.
The first cop barked out an order to the two men and handcuffed them. As they tried to lead them away, the tall lean man rattled off a complaint, but the cops continued to lead them to the patrol cars.
The second policeman paused and said something to Mario, then pointed to the stocky man, who pointed to Mario and rattled off several sentences I couldn’t understand.
The cops interviewed Mario and Ernesto, then hustled the two stalkers, one to each patrol car. After they were secured, the police asked all of us to come to the police station and sign statements. The officers climbed in their squad cars and drove off with their prisoners.
I hoped the two thugs didn’t give them any trouble when they reached the station.
Mario put his hand around my waist and pulled me closer. “I was afraid for you, Cara Mia.”
“What was all that talk about? I asked.
“The police said some woman had charged the stocky man with hitting her. She signed the statement, but he must have been very persuasive, because she dropped the charges.”
“Why was he pointing to you?”
“The woman he was talking about was my ex-girlfriend, Delores. He was boasting that she was his girlfriend now.”
Men had no business treating a woman that way. Mario was good with his fists, but I doubted he’d ever hit a woman.
I looked up into his brown eyes, thrilled by his concern and what he’d called me. I could get used to being protected by him and experiencing his fabulous kisses. But his family was another story. He seemed close to them, so I’d have to get them to at least like me. Who was I kidding. The elder Prince Fiorelli seemed okay, but I’d never please his mother. If, wonder of wonders, Prince Mario ever asked me to marry him, she’d probably put up an awful stink.
As the four of us walked back to his house, I couldn’t help thinking about our situation. Mario was a prince and a football star, but I was only an ordinary woman. Did his family expect him to marry someone important? Did nobility excuse a bad temper? Mario’s ex-girlfriend must have hidden hers well. I doubted Mrs. Fiorelli would like that.
If Mario and I ever became a couple, how could I impress his mother with anything I’d done? It probably wouldn’t matter that I’d earned an A in every subject I’d taken while working on my masters. Maybe if the Monterra News printed a travel article of mine, and Mario sent her a copy, she might be more impressed.
And though Mario had kissed me near into oblivion, that didn’t mean he was ready to settle down. Would he kiss me goodnight while his family watched? I hoped not, but I’d have to wait and see.
After we reached Mario’s parents’ house, Ernesto, Dean and I climbed into his car. Mario drove to the police station. At the police office, we all answered questions, gave statements about the attack, waited while a clerk typed them up, and signed them.
Later, when Mario and I walked back inside his house, the only sound we heard was the dishwasher and the clink of pots and pans being hand washed.
Mario held my hand and tugged me toward the kitchen. I didn’t want to face his mother again, so I resisted for a few seconds, but not wishing to tell him how I felt, I went along reluctantly.
It turned out the maid was alone, washing the pots and pans. She turned to face us. “His Highness and his wife have retired. Would you like me to get anything for you?”
Mario turned to me. I shook my head.
“No, thank you,” he said. “We’re going upstairs now.” When we reached the landing, he still held my hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed my palm. I liked the touch of his lips on my hand. He looked at me and winked. “Let me walk you to your room.”
Ernesto followed us. “I’ll sleep in your sitting room, as I always do. Please tell your parents, I appreciate the fact they moved a bigger sofa in there. It’s going to be more comfortable than the loveseat they had there before.”
As Ernesto walked in, I could see the rest of his suite. The teddy bear had been moved to the pillow on the bed. Did Mrs. Fiorelli hope that would deter me from sleeping with Mario? However, being a gentleman, he hadn’t even asked me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to spend my first time with him under the roof of his parents’ home.
Ernesto walked into the sitting room, and Mario led me to the door of the room I had been given. What was it Shakespeare said – ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’? I felt the same way and looked forward to tomorrow.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Mario said. “My friend, Gino, has invited you and me to join him for a drink tomorrow night in Monterra. Are you ready to fly back to Imperia?”
“Of course.” I wasn’t going to tell him how ready I was to leave his parents’ home. “I’ll will pack in the morning and be ready to leave whenever you are.”
“Not until tomorrow afternoon. It’s supposed to be warm tomorrow. I think you’d like to swim in the pool outside. I didn’t have a chance to show it to you, but there will be time for that around eleven. Then we can fly out after lunch.”
At the bedroom door, Mario took me in his arms. “Until morning.” His kiss lingered, warming my whole body. He cradled my face in his hands and kissed me softly. “Sleep well, Cara Mia.”
As I grasped the doorknob, he turned and walked away. He paused at the doorway to his bedroom and blew me a kiss. With a finger touching my lip, I floated into the bedroom. How could his ex-girlfriend bear to part with such a loving guy? However, if she had a bad temper, he may not have continued to act like the caring and considerate guy I was fast falling for. I had to keep reminding myself this wasn’t likely to last after I left Texas.
But the way I felt now would stay in my memory until a dozen guys had kissed away the memory of his kisses—if that were even possible.
I called Stephanie back in Texas. “Did you have a nice walk?” she asked.
I smiled. “Yes, he kissed me beside a tree, and it was wonderful. Then the two thugs showed up. Luckily, Ernesto and Dean, the family’s security guard, held them off until the police arrived.”
“Did anyone get hurt?”
“Ernesto got punched several times, and even got hit in the stomach, but I think they’re both okay.”
“Were you scared?”
“Yes. I hid behind a tree until the police arrived and took them into custody.”
“It’s a good thing they got there quickly.”
“I know.” A shiver went down my back. “Things could have been much worse.”
In the morning, breakfast was chocolate croissants and Danish pastries with more of that strong coffee. I settled for orange juice instead.
The maid said, “His Highness, Prince Fiorelli, has gone to his office in town. Princess Elizabetta is at an early breakfast meeting to plan a charity function.” No wonder Mario’s mother had told us to help ourselves when we came down in the morning.
Mario joined me and drank coffee. “I’ve already eaten. I’ve been checking the statistics and watching films of the next team we’ll be playing. They’ll be tough to beat. Are you ready to go swimming?”
I nodded. “Give me a few minutes to change into my swimsuit.”
After I came down ten minutes later, he opened a sliding glass door and beckoned me to follow him outside.
The air was warm, and a light breeze blew the scent of roses from the garden on one side of an enormous pool shaped like a five-petaled flower. White lotus blossoms floated in a nearby pond, filled with gold fish and yellow striped ones. Mario tossed some food into the water, and the fish splashed as they jumped to gobble it. At one edge of the pond, a fountain tinkled as the streams hit the water’s surface.
Mario walked down the steps while I stood at the edge of the swimming pool. It had steps leading down. I felt self-conscious in my revealing bikini and wished it didn’t leave so much skin showing. “Is the water cold?” I asked.
After looking me over and smiling, he grinned and splashed me. The chilly drops caused goosebumps on my arms and legs.
“Come on in. You’ll get used to it.” I dipped a foot in. It was cold.
He had already walked in and was swimming to the other end of the pool.
I walked down the steps, slowly chilling my legs and then my waist. After swimming back to stand nearby, he held out his hands. “It’s not deep here.” As I got closer, he said, “I like that bikini on you.” He looked at my breasts, making me feel sexy. He could look at me this way any time he liked. I stood up straighter, making my breasts even more prominent. He smiled, took my hands, and pulled me up against him. There we were, almost skin to skin.
I liked the way it felt, liked the way his chest pressed against my breasts, making my nipples tighten and my heart beat faster. If we’d been alone, and he wanted to make love right then and there, I would have—without giving it a second thought or regretting it later—except for his mother.
It would be fabulous, not because he was a prince, but because he was such a wonderful, sexy man. There was so much to like about him. And best of all, he liked me. Of course, I had no idea how strongly he felt about me, or how long our relationship would last, but I was going to enjoy it for all it was worth.
He gave me a quick kiss. “That’s all I should dare. The maid might be watching. She’d be sure to tell my mother.”
I looked at him, puzzled. Had he figured out his mother didn’t like me? “Uh, what’s wrong with a little kiss?”
“Well,” he frowned, “my mother wanted me to marry Delores. She couldn’t wait to brag about me being engaged to the daughter of a count, especially after my brother, Armando, married a reporter. My mother doesn’t feel other women look up to her even though she’s married to a prince. Since Armando was born less that nine months after they got married, she fears my father only married her because she was pregnant. She hates that people still talk about the rumor of an affair between King Dominic and my mother before either of them married.”
“What does your brother say about that?”
“He always shakes it off. He insists, because we are related to King Dominic, there will always be gossip.”
I was dying of curiosity. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, my father has blue eyes, and my mother has brown eyes. Armando and I have brown eyes, and Isabella has blue eyes. I learned in natural science class in college that combination would likely produce both blue and brown-eyed children, so I don’t know.”
“Is it possible that either your father or your uncle could be his biological parent?”
“Both my parents claim he’s theirs, so I’m going with that. Armando insists it doesn’t make any difference. As far as he’s concerned, he’s their son.”
“I guess gossip can bother anyone who’s in the public eye.”
“It doesn’t faze me. I just ignore it. As long as I play a good game, that’s what counts with my fans. That’s enough about gossip. Let’s swim.”
And we did. We swam side by side, but his powerful strokes moved him faster through the water than I could. Later, we sat on the steps, enjoying the warm sunshine.
After we’d dried and changed clothes, the maid served us a nice lunch of chicken salad sandwiches with crunchy celery and nuts. She set dishes of ice cream on the table. Luckily, I’d warmed up enough so that didn’t send chills down my throat.
The flight back to Monterra was uneventful, with Mario at the controls skillfully guiding us over the mountains.
When we landed, Mario and Ernesto carried our bags. As we walked toward the street, Mario smiled. “There’s my Ferrari. I’ve missed it.”
Mario and Ernesto settled me at the hotel and left after reminding me to be ready to meet Gino for drinks and dinner.
The club Mario drove us to was dark and noisy. He led us past a brass band playing on a small stage set in front of a red wall. Gino already sat at a glass-topped table with a lit candle. It smelled of ginger and anise. He fingered his dark mustache and pulled his white Monterra Jersey with purple letters down so I could see the number. His was seven.
“Hi,” I said. “Is that your lucky number?”
He laughed. “Of course.” Up close, I could see his muscled arms. His strong legs, plainly visible below his knee length shorts, looked as if they could deliver a powerful kick. I could see how he’d be a close competitor to Mario for the captain’s position. He leaned close. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering the house specialty, Braciuolini Di Manzo and a bottle of wine.”
I thought him a bit rude to order without consulting us but said nothing. However, I looked forward to trying it. I didn’t much care for the wine. It was too brut, so I let Mario and Gino finish the bottle off. They offered some to Ernesto, who stood nearby, but he declined.
The waiter set down the plates. Bacon had been wrapped around thin slices of beef, rolled, held together with toothpicks, and broiled. “There’s onion, garlic, and parsley rolled up inside,” he said.
“It looks delicious. Do you eat it with a fork or pick it up?” I asked.
Gino leaned back in his chair. “They don’t stand on ceremony here. Take a bite.”
I cut off a slice with my knife and tasted it. The meat was on the rare side. Savory, juicy, and delicious, it filled my mouth with a pleasing taste, not too spicy, but seasoned just right.
Soon we were eating it as fast as we could slice it. While Gino picked his roll up with his hands, I didn’t want to get my hands greasy, so I used my knife and fork.
After the waiter cleared the dinner dishes, Mario excused himself to go to the restroom. Ernesto followed.
After they left, Gino leaned across the table and took my hand. I pulled it back. “I came here with Mario.” I hoped that would deter him from doing anything more.
He grinned. “But you’re not his fiancé yet, are you?”
“Well, no. We hardly know each other.”
He ran his hand through his dark hair. “Then it’s not too late for me to tell you how lovely you are, and how I’d like to take you somewhere by myself.”
I swallowed. This was awkward. “Thanks for the compliment, but I feel you’re out of line.”
“Out of line?”
“You’re being disloyal to your friend. I plan to spend what little time I have left with Mario. After all, I’ll be leaving for the states soon. I have a master’s degree to finish.”
He nodded. “I see you’re smart too. Mario always goes for the smart ones, but I like smart women too, especially if they’re lovely like you.”
He smiled and leaned closer, his hand reaching toward mine. I slid my hands into my lap.
He was being much too forward, but hopefully, he’d leave me alone for the rest of the evening.
He held out a menu. “See if there’s something you’d like for dessert.”
I pushed it back. “I’m pretty full.”
“I’m not giving up hope. Mario gets all the women’s attention. However, you’re the one I’d like to see more of. Are you free to go to a museum or art gallery tomorrow? I’m sure an intelligent woman like you would enjoy that.”
I shook my head. He sure was persistent. “Sorry. I’m Prince Mario’s guest while I’m in Monterra. If I go to a museum or art gallery, I’ll do it with him.”
He leaned close. “You think he’s such a great guy. What would you say if you knew what he did to a previous girlfriend?”
“If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. For now, it’s none of my business what he’s done in the past.”
“One of his previous girlfriends claimed he sexually assaulted her.”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t think he’d do that.”
“Well, Delores claimed he did, but she didn’t file charges.”
Now I was curious. “Some man who attacked Mario and Ernesto claimed he had a girlfriend named Delores, but since we were in Barcelona, she probably wasn’t the same one.”
“Mario’s parents have lived in Barcelona since he was sixteen. He goes there often to visit. Probably was the same Delores,” Gino said.
Mario and Ernesto returned from the restroom. I wondered about that woman but didn’t feel it was right to ask Mario. Perhaps if we got closer, I could ask about her, but now it would be rude, and it was none of my business.
Mario sat down and looked at us kind of funny. Had he suspected Gino of making a move on me?
Mario took my hand. I smiled at him. He seemed to relax a bit. “How about some gelato?” he asked.
“That would be cool and refreshing,” I said, hoping Gino would cool down too. Suspecting jealousy spurred him instead of any real interest in me, I didn’t want to encourage him. Besides, I much preferred Mario.
Mario beckoned the waiter over. “We’d like another bottle of wine.”
That was the third bottle, and I had only a glass from the first bottle. I wondered if we would be allowed to take the bottle home if the men didn’t drink it all, but I wasn’t going to ask.
A cookie was served with each dish of gelato. Both men offered theirs to me, and they finished off the bottle of wine. As Mario got up to head to the restroom, I noticed he was a bit unsteady on his feet. A few minutes later, Gino followed, and he wasn’t much better. Ernesto hadn’t drunk more than two glasses, and he seemed perfectly sober.
After the two men returned, Mario looked at the bill, threw some bills on the table, and rose. It was time to say something. “Mario, are you going to let Ernesto drive this time, or will you let me try out your Ferrari? I’ve always wanted to drive one. I’ll be real careful. I promise.”
Mario frowned. “It’s only a short distance to your hotel. I’ll drive.”
“But Mario, you’ve had several glasses of wine, and you don’t seem too steady on your feet. Please let me drive.”
He glared at me. “Are you calling me a drunk. I’m not. I’ll drive.”
Oh, no. He was going to be difficult. I’d have to be strong, no matter how mad he got. I’d never seen him mad. If I were going to be involved at all with him, I needed to know how he acted when he was angry.
Ernesto held out his hand. “If you would hand over the keys, Your Highness, I’d be happy to drive.”
Mario shook his head. “I want to drive my own car.”
“But you’re not in any shape to drive,” I said. “Remember the accident you had. Do you want to have another?”
“That wasn’t my fault. They made the curve too tight for that part of the road.”
“But you were going too fast for that curve, and now you’ve had a lot to drink. We have a saying in the U.S. Friends don’t let their friends drive drunk.”
Mario sighed, pulled keys from his pocket, and dropped them on the table. “All right, all right. One of you can drive my baby. But, Kelly, if you drive you have to be careful with the brake. It grabs hard.”