Chapter Four
No matter how many times she practiced saying it in her head—I lost my virginity to the Prince of Monaco—it didn’t quite seem to stick. Even when they pulled up the cobblestone road leading to the palace, the foundation having been laid in the 1100s, according to Lou, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it.
Gabi is gonna freak out. Her friend had long advised her to deflower, suggesting plenty of rich, husband-material men. But a prince of a city-state? That had never even been on the docket.
Her breath caught in her throat as they approached a courtyard lined with a meticulously shorn lawn and bright red bushes. The car slowed to a stop, and someone outside opened the door. Antonia stepped out, gawking at the façade.
“All of these frescoes were restored by the renovation efforts of my grandfather,” Lou said, offering his arm while pointing out a few areas. “I’ll take you to the southern wing, where my family’s private quarters are. There you can call your father, and do whatever business you need to do.”
He looked somehow stiffer, more formal, now that he was back in his prestigious home. Or maybe it was the sentries standing guard nearby, rifles in hand, that made him don the royal persona. He led her through the two-story arched opening that led into an inner courtyard full of arches and abundant greenery. Their footsteps scuffed quietly as they walked. A reverent silence filled each area they entered.
“This place is amazing,” she whispered, looking up at him. “You grew up here?”
“I did. And I still live here.” He flashed a disarming grin, one that made her want to grab his ears and cover his face with kisses. But she couldn’t—not while in the sacred, ancient palace.
“I can’t imagine having a place like this as my childhood.” She dragged her fingertips along the cool stone wall as they followed the outer rim of a courtyard. Potted lilies and rose bushes lined the walls, dotting the air with bursts of fresh scent.
He led her to another arched doorway, never letting go of her arm. She admired him as they walked—the squareness of his jaw, the hint of stubble, his steady gaze that seemed so fierce and compassionate at the same time. Or maybe that was just the remnant of their incredible sex the night before… She shivered, which made him glance down at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Very fine. Just thinking about last night.”
He grinned, pushing open the door for her to enter. A plush study greeted them, ancient wooden floors covered by enormous rugs, frayed at the edges but definitely older than anything else she’d seen in life. She stepped cautiously. Bookcases covered the far back wall; several enormous desks dotted the open space, each one with a sleek computer.
When the door shut behind him, he pulled her into his arms. “What exactly were you thinking about last night?”
She giggled, wrapping her arms around him, a hand finding the firm curve of his ass. “Just how sexy you are. How amazing everything is.”
He growled, nipping at her earlobe. “You want to have a repeat tonight?”
Warmth flooded her. “More than anything.”
His lips dragged across her cheek, over her forehead. “Your wish is my command. Would you like to stay in the palace?”
She drew a sharp breath. How quickly her Monacan poker visit was taking on a magical life of its own. “Are you serious?”
“Let’s just stay here. I’ll take you wherever you need to go. We shouldn’t try to go back to the hotel now, not with all the commotion.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right…” Her mind wandered to her room there, the clothing she’d left in disarray, the half-eaten bowl of pasta from the evening before. “But I should at least get my things. If you’ll let me have my room key back, that is.”
He cocked a grin, dragging his thumb over her chin. “You won’t need your things. I’ll take care of everything here. You’re in the palace, my sweet. How long until you return to Italy?”
The appearance of a pet name thrummed through her as she did a quick calculation. “Six days. My flight leaves next Saturday.”
“Wow.” He looked surprised. “So long?”
“I’m here for the tournament.”
He paused, eyes lingering on her. “What tournament?”
“At the casino. The Southern European Poker Tournament.”
A smile crested his face. “Seriously?”
She nodded, enjoying the view of him as the pieces fell into place. “Absolutely.”
Lou swooped in for a kiss, the intensity of his lips making her mind numb, all thoughts receding to a pleasant hum in the background. He pulled away, turning her toward the computers. “Now for your business.”
She drifted toward the nearest desk, mind spinning as she took in the austere quietness, the dark woods and the regal maroon fabrics of this study. She slid into an elegantly stuffed arm chair, smirking at the disconnect between the computer and the rest of the room.
While she used the internet, Lou leaned against the wall near the window, doing something on his phone. It was hard to concentrate on connecting with the outside world when he was only ten feet away. Every movement or sigh from his end snagged her attention. The man was impossible to ignore.
Antonia logged into the social media page she and Gabi always used, firing off a quick message to let her friend know she wasn’t dead or kidnapped. Immediately Gabi responded.
I’ve been waiting to hear from you! How was it? Did you know you left with the PRINCE??
Antonia smiled, looking up at the royal man across the room, his lean figure making her heart flutter. I didn’t then—but I do now! We had an amazing night. I’m at the palace right now. I lost my purse and my phone. Have you seen them?
Gabi’s response came quickly. Ahhhhh! We have a lot to catch up on. I found a friend last night as well. No purse or phone here. Will you be coming back tonight? My flight to Italy leaves tomorrow. Should I just wait for you in Milan?
She hesitated, wondering what the answer would be. If she stayed with Lou, she wouldn’t see Gabi again until after the tournament, when she returned to Milan. Gabi had only come for a quick girl’s weekend before the tournament began. As if on cue, Gabi wrote, I won’t be mad if you stay. I am proud of you, especially if you finally took my advice…
Antonia grinned. We’ll see each other in Milan. Have fun tonight!
Across the room, Lou’s phone rang. He answered it quickly, speaking to someone in hushed French. Giddiness spread through her—even the way he spoke his mother tongue was titillating. She could watch him eat cereal and be enthralled, probably.
Navigating to her email client, Antonia decided that sending her father a message as opposed to calling him would be best. She definitely couldn’t let him know she was calling from her lover’s house—even if he was the prince or his house was a palace. Somehow, she suspected her father wouldn’t be too impressed.
She typed out a fast email with the basics—I’m alive, things are fine, tournament starts tomorrow, gunning for the three-mil jackpot; can you order me a new phone?—and sent it off with a sigh. He’d been hesitant to allow the tournament trip altogether. Losing her phone was both a blessing and a curse—it meant she could disconnect from his long-distance meddling, but she also would be disconnected from everything else. But Lou seemed a worthy prize for the nuisance.
His conversation had made him pace the room, his tone stronger than when he’d first picked up the phone. Her French was rudimentary at best, but she caught enough to know this was a business call. Questions sparked in her—what occupation could he possibly have besides royalty? She knew embarrassingly little about Monacan affairs—so little she hadn’t even realized she’d slept with the prince.
And what she did know came from her father’s business—mostly that the principal importer of Monaco had recently buckled down hard on imports in certain industries, including textiles. Antonia tried to separate herself from the politics of the family linens business, concentrating instead on her designs and innovations. But his recent feud with the Monacan businessman had seeped into their conversations at times.
Something about Lou’s conversation rang a bell.
Her email client dinged with a new arrival. Her father had responded. My only daughter, please be careful there. You fly too far from your nest. I’ll order the same phone for you—it should arrive soon. Your mother and I will be watching on the television every night. I’ll look for your gorgeous designs, too. What a shame that the idiot in charge has made it impossible for your genius to continue to appear in Monaco.
She hesitated after reading the email. Curiosity gnawed at her, especially from inside the walls of the head of government. I love you, Father. Who is the idiot in charge? Should I keep an eye out for him? Tell me his name. I can give him a few choice words if I run into him at the tournament.
She sent the email and closed out of everything. Enough of the real world. It was time to get back to this incredible fantasy life.
Slipping out from behind the desk, she sauntered over to Lou, who stared out the window, phone pressed to his ear. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against the strong plane of his back, feeling a foreign contentment settle inside her.
She could get used to this sort of thing.
***
Lou awoke to the familiar sounds of his palatial bedroom: the soft sounds of curtains brushing against the stone floor as the morning sea breeze entered; the murmur of voices from somewhere in the courtyard below; the distant chirp of birds greeting the day.
And something entirely new: the satisfied hum of his lover Antonia, as she burrowed deeper into his embrace.
A smile stretched across his face. How often did he wake up with a smile these days? He stroked her cheek, studying the curve of her eyelashes and the arch of her brows. After two full days with her, wasting away the weekend in a constant cycle of lovemaking, laughter, feasting and exploration, by Monday morning he was reluctant to let any bit of the real world return.
Because once they left the palace walls, it would be time for him to return to the plan.
Antonia’s first tournament game was later that afternoon. They’d agreed to head back to the Casino around one o’clock, so she could stop by her room and grab some things. Not as if she wanted for much here. He’d sent a tailor out to fetch clothing for her, prompting him to use her social media profiles as a way to glean her style and preferences. The clothes he’d returned with had made Antonia’s jaw drop to the floor.
He loved surprising her, pleasing her, making her blush. His thumb traced the angle of her jaw, then down the curve of her neck. How had this intended one-night stand turned into something so much more captivating?
That certainly hadn’t been in the cards.
Antonia shifted, a grin spreading across her face. “Is it time to get up?”
“Depends on how much time you need to prepare for the tournament, my sweet.”
She sighed, a hand snaking around his waist, over his ass. His cock stirred for the millionth time since they’d met three days ago—the woman pushed him to new limits of lovemaking. Or maybe it was just their combined corked passions—hers from waiting a lifetime for the right first time, and his from losing himself in endless months of work, turning away carnal pleasures except for brief encounters with his own hand.
Letting off steam in an unexpected weekend with a lady was one thing. Sensual foxes like Antonia were the kind of encounter men dared not dream of.
“You’re going to win today, so you need to be prepared.” He pulled her body tight against his, brushing the tips of their noses together. “What do you need?”
Her breath caught, her plump lips parting as she searched his face. He already knew the telltale signs of desire overtaking her. She arched against him, pressing taut nipples against his chest.
“You know what I need.” Her voice came out husky, firm. He growled and bit at her neck, flipping her over onto her belly.
“I do?” He reached for a condom, the box left out on the nightstand since they were blowing through them like candy. “Will this help you win?”
She whimpered and nodded, hiking her ass into the air. “Give it to me.”
Watching her bloom throughout the weekend was a delight he hadn’t expected. Her sexual appetite was endless. He’d give her all the attention she craved. The only hard part would be ending it as the plan called for.
Confusion clawed at him, and he forced the thoughts from his head as he sheathed his cock, licking his lips at the pretty pink pussy awaiting him. He ran his thumb over the slippery folds of her womanhood, growling low as he pressed himself into her for easily the twentieth time in three full days of knowing one another. She shouted as he entered her, back arching, eyes pinched shut.
The Antonia the outer world knew was sparkling, gorgeous, and sweet, but Antonia from the inside was a carnal pleasure that made his mind spin. Pure velvet and heat—only he knew this side of her. The thought made him dizzy. His orgasm rushed hot and fast, and he grunted, doubling overtop of her, tense against her as he came.
She laughed groggily, eyes hazy with lust. “That was fast.”
“You made me do it.”
He slipped himself out of her, rolling the condom off. She eyed him, her pink nipples still tight and staring at him. “So it’s my fault?”
“Entirely.” He leaned down and kissed her. “You’re too sexy. I lose my mind.”
He hopped off the bed, tossing the condom into the trashcan, where ten of its brothers lived.
“I better keep you locked up during the tournament, then.” She rolled onto her side, dragging her fingertips over the plush comforter. “I can’t have you losing your mind and making a scene.”
“I promise I’ll control myself.” He grabbed a pair of underwear slung over the high-backed chair near the wall. “Only in public, though. When it’s just you and me, I make no promises.”
She giggled and rolled out of bed, kissing his bicep before wandering toward the adjoining master bathroom. The water sprang to life, and over the gentle hum, the same panicked question returned to his mind: What are you doing?
Each passing moment with Antonia seemed to be pushing the plan toward crisis. He’d envisioned a one-night stand, a tour of the city, and then a paparazzi scandal. Instead, he was having the time of his life, and the only paparazzi run-in had been accidental. He’d checked the tabloids enough during the weekend to see that they’d picked up the story and run with it. Not as he’d envisioned, but with a murmur of wonder around them. Returning to the hotel today would fan the flames, launching it from hook-up drama into a different realm altogether.
Which meant he had to milk the new situation for all it was worth. The long weekend with her could brew some type of relationship potential in the magazines, once he chose to break the story. Since he planned to accompany her to the tournament, all eyes would be on them. Speculating. Gossiping. Wondering.
So the one-and-done approach would become a sordid heartbreak. His squeezed the back of the chair as he stared out the window at the bright morning, not really seeing anything as his mind turned over the plan.
The affair would still infuriate her father. Perhaps even more than simply bedding her. Not only did he have her virginity, he had her heart. And when the pieces fell…
A grin flickered across his face, but the familiar lust for revenge had been dampened somehow. Enacting the plan meant hurting Antonia. And the thought of making any pain or confusion cross her face was somehow unsavory.
But no matter. He’d figure it out. He always did. And this turn of events could be squeezed for every last drop—most of all for pleasure.