CHAPTER SIX
During the flight, Darias filled her in on all his siblings’ unusual names and told her a little about them.
Each one sounded more intimidating than the last. She didn’t want to hear any more about how Rigo graduated from Harvard Law School and that little Lina, the baby of the family, was studying philosophy at Oxford. “Won’t they see right through me? They sound like geniuses.”
He laughed. “The smarter people are, the easier it is to fool them.”
“Is that a fact?”
“More of an observation. It has to do with confidence.”
“Then you must be easy to fool.”
“Quite possibly, but only once.”
She laughed, and grew bold. “Have you been in love before?” It wasn’t such a strange question.
He shook his head. A wry expression haunted his eyes. “I used to dream of it but sooner or later they all turn out to be more interested in my title or my money than the real me.”
“Is that why you decided to marry someone who just wants your money?” The situation was laughable.
“Why not? It’s all cut and dried and no one’s faking anything. Maybe one day I’ll fall in love but it’s not the kind of thing you can rush and I’m under a deadline here.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He was already looking ahead to love affairs after this weird business arrangement came to an end. Why did that make her heart sink?
“What kind of woman do you think you could love?” She was curious.
He frowned slightly, pondering her question—which warmed her heart when he could easily have blown it off with a glib answer. “Someone like my mom.” He lifted a brow. “She’s warm, funny, intelligent, caring and beautiful.”
“I bet she’d be touched to hear you say that.” Emma was also touched. They always said that how a guy treated his mom was a vision in to the future of his romantic relationships. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s wonderful. She always encouraged me to pursue art, even when others thought it a foolish waste of time.”
“Art is your passion.”
He nodded slowly. “Always has been.”
“Maybe no woman can compete?”
“You might be right.”
Good to know. Darias had thoroughly warned her off falling in love with him and she’d just have to keep that in mind during all those long dark nights in his presence.
He tilted his head and peered at her. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”
“Not even close. I’m too busy.”
“You can’t have been too busy for your whole life.”
She sighed. “Between school, part time jobs, my crazy brother and trying to help my mom keep things together, I didn’t have time for fun.”
“What was your mom like?”
She inhaled as sadness welled inside her. “Very sweet, funny, loving. Totally impractical. She lived in a sort of dreamworld. She wore an engagement ring my dad had given her once—they never did get married—even after he died. She was a true romantic even when there was nothing whatsoever to be romantic about.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“It’s okay. He died when I was young—a heroin overdose. I barely even remember him.”
“I’m surprised that didn’t scare your brother off drugs.”
“You’d think it would but I suppose he has the same head-in-the-clouds approach to life as the rest of my family. I don’t know why I turned out to be the steady, boring one.” She laughed, but it was rather forced. “I’ve prided myself on being dull and staying out of trouble.”
“I don’t think you’re dull at all. I think you’re very adventurous to agree to my madcap scheme and I promise you it will be worth your while.”
“Even if I can’t right the tell-all biography about it,” she teased.
“What kind of man do you think would be right for you?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Tall, dark, handsome, kind, intelligent, rakish, artistic, royal—she wanted to tease him again but didn’t dare. He really was too delicious. And totally unsuitable. “Someone dull, I suppose. Maybe another teacher. Or a school administrator.”
He chuckled. “You can’t pick your future love by their career. You have to go on personality, compatibility, chemistry.”
“Even if he’s an undertaker?”
“Especially then.” They both laughed and their conversation flowed on in the same easy manner, despite the long trip.
Once they’d crossed the Atlantic, Darias pointed out the Pyrenees as they flew over Spain and France, and she felt her anticipation—and terror—growing as he announced they were now flying over Switzerland and the Alps of Northern Italy, drawing closer to the high peaks.
“My homeland,” he announced with a flourish, as a forbidding range of snowcapped mountains subsided into lush green fields dotted with tiny cows. “I always feel something when I fly back here.”
“I guess that’s lucky, given your situation.”
“Truth.”
A limo picked them up at the airport. As they pulled onto the road, a terrifying thought seized her. “Have you told your mom that…” She blinked. “That we…”
“That we’re getting married? No.”
“Why?” She felt her eyes grow wide. “Wouldn’t it be easier to break the news before she meets me?”
He shook his head, confident as ever. “If I told her over the phone, she’d be full of hard-to-answer questions. When she’s standing talking to you, they’ll fly out of her mind and she’ll be filled with joy.”
“There’s that dangerous confidence again.” She glanced at the back of the driver’s head. Of course she was only voicing worries that any nervous new fiancée might think. “What if she hates me?”
“She couldn’t hate anyone. She’s the most loving soul in the world.”
Emma certainly couldn’t question that in front of the driver. “I look forward to meeting her,” she lied. “What should I call her?”
“Call her mama.”
Emma’s nerves ratcheted tighter as they drove into a pretty town with a mix of medieval and eighteenth-century buildings. Even the streets were picturesque, with smooth cobbles and larger stones laid in two tracks for carriage wheels.
“This is Casteleone, the town that grew up around my ancestors’ old castle. We’re headed to a newer palace where my mom and dad lived.”
“It’s incredibly beautiful.”
“Casteleone has a long tradition of artists, architects and craftsmen.” He looked out the window. “I’m proud to follow in their footsteps.”
They drove through a tall set of black iron gates with elaborate crests tooled into the railings. Behind them rose a baroque palace, three stories tall, with impressive arched windows and long balconies.
Mama. This was not going to be easy!
“Relax. You’ll be fine.”
“Am I breathing heavy or something?” She was trying her hardest to appear nonchalant.
“You seem a little tense.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Quite possibly.”
As the car pulled in front of the main doors, they opened and an elegant blonde woman appeared, flanked by two gray-uniformed staffers. She came down the steps as they opened their doors and climbed out.
“Mama, I missed you.” Darias kissed her on both cheeks, then again on the first one. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m trying to do things as Papa would have wanted.” She held Darias’s face in her hands. “I do miss him.”
“I know, Mama.” He stroked her hair. They were a very touchy-feely family. Emma’s heart ached to remember that her mom had been like that, too. “I have someone for you to meet.”
His mom looked over at Emma for the first time, and a curious expression crossed her face. She looked back at Darias, now expectant.
Darias held out his hand for Emma to come join them. Heart pounding, she took cautious steps across the white marble pavers. “Mama, this is Emma Ricci. I’ve proposed marriage to her, and she’s agreed. She will be my wife.”
Emma managed a shaky smile. The way he described their union sounded rather businesslike—which it was—and didn’t feel as fake as she’d imagined.
“Emma?” His mom focused her full attention on her, now holding out both hands to take one of Emma’s. “I’m so thrilled to meet you.” Her voice rang with surprise but also pleasure. She turned to her son. “Darias, why have you been keeping this beautiful young lady a secret from me?”
“You know how you are, Mama. You would have peppered me with questions that I wasn’t ready to answer.”
“And here your aunt and I have spent the last three days racking our brains and making phone calls all over Europe, looking for a bride for you.” She tutted, then turned back to Emma. “But I’m thrilled that we no longer need to find one. Welcome to the family, Emma.”
Before Emma could draw breath, she was enveloped in a deep hug. Worse yet, she could hear sobs rising in Darias’s mom’s chest as she was overcome with emotion. Emma tried to hug her back without feeling like too much of a heel. Still, she couldn’t come up with one single thing to say except, “Thank you.”
“Come in. Come in!” Now alive with excitement, Darias’s mom turned to climb the steps. “We must show Emma around.”
“She might be tired after our long flight, Mama.”
“I’m fine, really,” she protested. She wanted to fulfill her role to the best of her ability. “I’d love to see the palace.”
“You’ll live here with Darias, I hope.” His mom squeezed her arm as they reached a vast foyer of white marble. “The kings of Altaleone have lived here since the seventeen hundreds. Darias’s grandmother, the late queen, preferred a smaller residence in the center of town, so my husband and I lived here. I’ll move to the late queen’s house if it pleases Darias.”
“You shall live wherever you like, Mama.” Darias slid his arm around her waist and kissed her on the forehead. Emma was touched by how much he cared about his mom—enough to create an expensive charade just to keep her happy.
“Have the police made any discoveries?” Darias’s question tugged her back to the moment.
“Not a one!” His mom’s voice rang with distress. “I don’t understand how there can be no clues or evidence after the way they died. It was clearly murder.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ve wrapped up my business in New York, and I can stay here now and focus on the investigation. This afternoon I want to visit the crime scene again.”
“It’s under heavy guard right now.” His mom sighed. “Do be careful, sweetheart. We still don’t know why they did this. As the next in line, you could be in grave danger.”
“I’ll watch my back. And I have a feeling a number of experienced security guards will be doing the same thing.” He shot her a wry smile.
“Yes. Security is greatly increased. We’ve hired an expert. An ex–foreign legion man with a reputation for solving this kind of crime. He thinks we should bug every room in the palace. He suspects an inside job.”
Darias’s eyes widened. “I hope he hasn’t bugged my chambers. I don’t think my new bride and I would enjoy our wedding night much if we thought half the guards in the palace were listening in.”
His mother laughed. “Of course not, darling. I told him his idea was nonsense, anyway. We’re all family here, and we look out for each other.”
Emma released a taut breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It would be truly awkward if there was nowhere private for her to talk to Darias. Though she should be mindful that anywhere could be bugged, even their cars.
Darias introduced her to his twin sister, Beatriz, a solemn brunette beauty who seemed deeply surprised to meet his new fiancée, and who explained that the rest of their siblings had all rushed back to their respective careers and schools, leaving her to take care of their mom alone.
“I’m sorry I had to go back to New York. Poor Keane had been putting that show together for months. I couldn’t let him down.”
“You do realize that you’re going to have to stop painting now, right?” said Beatriz. “You have bigger responsibilities. This trip back to New York so soon after the funeral and right before the coronation was really uncalled for.”
“I had to convince my bride to return with me.” Darias slid his arm around Emma in a proprietary fashion that made her skin tingle. Beatriz’s shapely brows lowered slightly. Emma got the feeling that there was more than a little tension between them. Not surprising since he was about to become King and she wasn’t—yet she was the one left there to hold down the fort.
“I suppose it is a relief that you have a bride. Though Mama and Aunt Liesel put together an impressive list of prospects for you. It’s almost a shame to see their hard work go to waste. I had no idea that Europe had so many young royals left in it.” Beatriz snuck a glance at Emma, who’d never felt less royal in her life.
“Perhaps they’ll be a good fit for Rigo or Sandro.” Darias leaned in and kissed Emma on the cheek. Heat flashed through her, and even when he pulled back she felt as if his lips had seared an impression on her skin. Her pulse raced, and she realized she was staring.
He’s just trying to convince his sister this is real.
Problem was, it felt way too real. Warmth now flooded her body, which probably would have liked to turn his quick kiss into something a lot more meaningful. “Uh,” she turned to Beatriz. “Could I use the bathroom?”
Beatriz blinked, as if astonished that such a mundane need should be mentioned in public. “Of course, my dear,” offered Darias’s mom. “Let me show you where it is. Come with me”
She threaded her arm through Emma’s and led her off along a wide hallway with an intricate pattern of black and white marble on the floor.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire!
Emma tried to walk in as dignified a manner as possible, which wasn’t easy since her cute ankle boots had a narrow heel and the floor was polished and slick. His mom didn’t say anything until they had rounded a corner and entered a second hallway, lined with tall wood doors surrounded by frothy white carvings, in a sea of light blue wall. How far away was this bathroom, anyway?
“I can’t understand why Darias never mentioned you to me,” she said at last. “The subject of his marriage came up several times at the funeral, and he never said a thing.” Emma didn’t dare look at her. She was afraid of the suspicious expression she’d see. “I suppose he wanted to ask you in person first.” She took Emma’s hand and squeezed it. “That’s so romantic, really. I’m rather surprised.”
So Darias’s mother didn’t think him romantic? She was right. He’d hired her to avoid the tiresome prospect of a real romance. “I was surprised myself. But I’m very happy,” she stammered.
All true, really. Her brother was finally safe from junkies and mobsters and had a chance to get back on his feet. She’d have an adventure and head home to a nice nest egg.
“So are we all, Emma. You have no idea! His aunt and I were so worried he wouldn’t agree to marry anyone, and there’s an ancient edict that the king must be married to take the throne. Such requirements were rather common in the old days; I suppose to ensure that the royal line continues with at least one legitimate heir. I wanted his father to abolish it, but I’m afraid he rather approved of it.”
Emma watched with horror as tears filled the older woman’s eyes. “Do excuse me. I’m not quite used to the idea that he’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Emma wanted to reach out and soothe her, but that might be against royal etiquette and she didn’t want to commit any gaffes. Darias’s mom pushed open a tall door and led her into a wide chamber with an elaborate parquet wood floor and some elegantly upholstered blue-and-ivory chairs. Huge portraits of eighteenth-century ancestors peered down at her as she picked her way across the ornate woodwork.
Where was this toilet? In Switzerland?
“It’s not far now.” Darias’s mom turned to her with a smile. Emma immediately panicked that she had the ability to read minds. “This palace was built back when everyone used chamber pots, and this first floor is all formal galleries that didn’t really lend themselves to having bathrooms installed. Don’t worry, all the bedrooms have an en suite these days.”
“That is a relief. I don’t fancy making a trek like this in the middle of the night.”
They both laughed, and it was a relief to have some kind of normal conversation with her future mother-in-law, even if she’d only know her for one year.
Finally, his mom gestured to a smaller, white-painted door in the corner of a striking blue-and-yellow room with a grand piano in one corner. “They put a lavatory in here because it was the old men’s smoking room. They needed somewhere to stagger to after they’d been hitting the champagne too hard. Darias’s grandmother always hated the room and had it redecorated as feminine as possible when she took over.” His mom’s conspiratorial smile made her smile back with genuine warmth. “Do you think you can find your way back to us?”
“Sure.” Emma tried not to look panicked. If she could make her way back to the group without GPS, it would be a miracle. When she emerged, she could barely remember if she should turn left or right. The room next door had sage green furnishings. That way.
A pretty staffer in a gray uniform smiled at her and she smiled back, hoping that wasn’t a breach of decorum. Her heels made a fearful noise as she headed into the marble corridor. Doors stretched in either direction for what seemed like miles. Could she hear voices?
She heard two people nearby, murmuring in what sounded like French, but they hushed as she came closer and she never saw them.
“Emma.” Darias’s voice filled her with relief. “We’re back this way.”
“I got confused.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. My mom loves you already.”
“She’s very sweet, just like you said.”
“See? Everything will work out fine.”
She glanced around, wondering if anyone could read into his words. She wanted to warn him that they weren’t alone. “I just heard two people speaking French nearby.”
“Probably staff.” He didn’t look worried. “Altaleone is situated in a place where several cultures meet. You’ll hear people speaking Italian, German, French and, of course, English. That’s what we grew up speaking. The Altaleone language is an obscure dialect of Italian that isn’t very useful outside of our borders. We’ll head to your room to unpack.”
“My room?”
“Until the wedding.” He lifted a brow slightly. “I told my mom you were superstitious and wanted us to sleep apart until then.”
“Thank you.” She glanced around. Not that she’d said anything at all incriminating. It was going to take her a while to relax into this charade.
The palace seemed to shrink to manageable size as she kept pace with Darias back to the foyer, then headed up a grand, winding staircase to the second floor. Tall portraits lined the walls of the staircase.
“Are these your ancestors?”
“Yes. That one is Ludovico Leone, who built this palace.” He pointed to a tall man in a powdered wig and a long velvet coat, with two black dogs at his heels. “Legend in the village says that he imprisoned his enemies in the wine cellar until they starved, then fed them to his dogs.”
“What?” She shivered, almost afraid to look at the confident, pink-cheeked man in the painting. “Is that true?”
“There’s no way to know for sure, but I suspect it was a PR campaign to keep his creditors at arm’s length. This was a very expensive palace to build.”
She laughed. “I’d imagine. Not a bad strategy, either.”
“The Altaleone people are known for being wily and defensive. That’s the main reason our tiny nation is still here despite all the upheaval over the last centuries.”
“That and the forbidding mountains all around you.”
“Those too.” He put his hand on a shiny brass door handle and turned it. The door opened to reveal a large, well-lit room with a huge four-poster bed covered in blue velvet brocade.
“I’ll certainly feel like a princess sleeping in here.”
She jumped when the door opened behind her. A young man in a gray uniform carried her two bags.
“He’ll unpack for you,” said Darias.
“Oh, no. I’d much rather do it myself.” She had packed a copy of their contract, which, now that she thought about it, was a very stupid idea. Not being used to living in a palace, she hadn’t considered the total lack of privacy. She’d have to find a way to burn that as soon as possible.
“I’ll leave you to it. Lunch will be downstairs in about forty-five minutes. Be warned. My mom and Beatriz are already planning your wedding.”
“My wedding? It’s your wedding, too.”
“Oh, yes.” He looked almost surprised. “So it is.”