The Prince’s Royal Love-Child by Trish Morey

12

Theengines slowed as they entered the harbour, and Rafe went and stood at the opposite side of the launch as the pilot skilfully negotiated their way into the marina and to the private landing where Sebastiano stood to attention, waiting for them to dock, the buttons on his jacket gleaming under the sun. He was looking from one to the other, a small frown creasing the skin between his wiry eyebrows.

‘What is it?’ Rafe asked before they’d berthed, obviously eager for a change of topic.

‘The Princess Marietta has arrived. She’s waiting for you at the Castello.’

‘Marietta is here? Already?’ He leapt onto the dock. ‘I’ll take the Alfa. Sebastiano, you take Signorina Wainwright and drive carefully. She’s feeling a little off-colour.’

And then he was gone, and it was Sebastiano’s duty to hand her from the boat ‘You’re not well, Signorina Wainwright?’ he inquired as intelligent eyes scanned her features, and she gained the distinct impression he missed nothing, not even the residual spark of fury that coloured her vision.

‘I’m fine,’ she answered, taking his hand as she stepped onto the dock. ‘Rafe worries too much.’

‘Prince Raphael has not seen his sister in some years. They have a lot to catch up on.’

‘Lucky Marietta,’ was the best response she could dredge up.

He’d tried.He’d cancelled his appointments and taken her out on a cruise around the island. He’d shown her the tiny coves and beaches that dotted the coastline, tutored her in the names of the villages and what specialities each was renowned for, whether it was to do with wine, olives, oranges or seafood.

Rafe took a hairpin bend, his tyres squealing in protest, and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He’d done everything he could. And still she railed against him, blaming him, fighting the inevitable as if she were some innocent lamb being led to the slaughter.

Christo!What was her problem?

Last night she’d been the one to come to him, calling to every last sexual sense he had, the siren, beckoning him, wanting him to make love to her.

Hadn’t he given her what she’d wanted? She’d seemed fine with their arrangement then. What the hell had changed between then and now?

The Alfa Romeo made easy work of the climb, the Castello looming larger and larger in front of him as he neared its iron gates. Maybe she was right Maybe their marriage was a disaster waiting to happen if she could run so hot and cold in the space of twenty-four hours.

Maybe he would be better off with someone more amenable. Or maybe pregnancy was sending her hormone levels haywire. She was having twins after all. Did that mean twice the hormones?

Forget that, he didn’t want anyone else.

Why would he when she was already pregnant with his seed?

Two babies. And she could think what she liked, but he was damned sure at least one of them would be a son and the heir that Montvelatte needed if it was to maintain its status as a Principality into the future.

It was perfect. Why couldn’t she see that?

It had to be hormones.

Rafe pulled into the forecourt and was just uncurling himself from the car when he heard a sound, a familiar voice even as it turned into a squeal of pleasure. He looked up to see his little sister running down the steps towards him, and he wondered when his little sister had turned into such a stunning woman, a younger version of how he remembered his mother— blonde and beautiful and a throwback to another time, when northern Europeans had swept south into Italy. Somehow Marietta had inherited the lion’s share of her genes from their mother. As for him, he’d inherited her height, but the rest of his genes he could attribute squarely to his typically Mediterranean father.

He was glad she’d won their mother’s blonde good looks and that they sat with such apparent ease on her. Maybe he hadn’t taken any notice back then, or maybe it had just been too long a time since he’d seen her. How many years was it since they’d seen each other? Whatever, it was way too long.

‘Raphael!’ she squealed, launching herself at him, and the years faded away, and it was his little Marietta back in his arms. His same little princess. Although now with a discernible hint of a New Zealand accent. ‘I’m so sorry I missed your coronation.’

He grimaced. ‘Don’t be, It was a dry and dusty affair. You didn’t miss anything. But you’re here early. I wasn’t expecting you until just before the wedding.’

‘I finished a design project early. Thought I’d take off before they lumbered me with another. I hope you don’t mind. It’s just so good to see you at last.’ She kissed both his cheeks and then stood back down, a grin tugging at her lips as she gave him a look of mock seriousness. ‘Or should I call you “Prince Raphael” now?’

He squeezed her to him again and spun her around, returning the kiss with one of his own. ‘Only if you let me call you princess.’

‘But you always did,’ she said on a laugh as she settled back to ground level, taking his arm as they headed into the Castello. ‘But who would have imagined one day I would actually be a princess for real—and that this—’ she swept her arm around in a wide arc ‘—would all be yours.’

‘It’s not mine. Technically, I’m just looking after it.’ She turned and switched on that same electrifying smile that had got his mother noticed by a prince who’d lost his wife, only to be thrust into oblivion when he had tired of her, and something tugged at him from way deep inside.

This hadn’t been a happy place for his mother, bearing babies who were destined never to rule, in love with a man who had only sought her comfort on the rebound.

‘You always were a stickler for doing it by the book,’ she said with another laugh, dragging him away from the pit where lay his memories of the time. ‘Can’t you sit back and enjoy it, just a little? I’ve been having a ball looking around this old place. I only know it from photographs.’

He led her into the library, the aroma of fresh coffee and warm rolls reminding him that he’d had a full appetite- building day on the water, a day that had ended less than spectacularly, which meant the comfort factor of the food wasn’t lost on him either. He sat down and poured coffee for them both, adding a liberal dash of cream to his own.

Marietta took the cup he proffered, slipped off her shoes, and curled them beneath her, holding her cup with both hands as she blew across its surface. ‘Plus I think I have incorporated into my memories all those things I heard you and Mama talking about—when you did talk about Montvelatte.’ She took a sip of her coffee, and when she spoke again her voice was subdued. ‘I can’t believe what happened to our father. He never cared for us, never gave us a thought, but I thought he loved his sons. How they could do such a thing to their own father—’ She looked up at him. ‘Have you seen them at all, Carlo and Roberto?’

Rafe leant back in his chair and stretched his legs out long in front of him. ‘I visited them once in the prison.’

‘And?’

He remembered the day, before his coronation, when he’d gone to see them. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he’d wanted to go, just that if they could talk, maybe he could make some sense of what had happened, but all he’d got was their hatred, their sneers and looks of derision, reminding him how he had felt long ago, as if he was still the bastard son who counted for nothing. He shook his head. ‘Nothing’s changed.’ She blinked and took a deep breath, then turned her eyes up at him over the cup and smiled apologetically. ‘What am I talking about? You’re getting married, big brother. How amazing is that?’

‘Why should it be amazing? I’m thirty-three years old. High time I settled down, wouldn’t you say?’

She laughed and put her cup down. ‘Except you were the one who was never going to settle down.’

He looked away. Wondered why he hadn’t yet heard any sound of Sebastiano returning with Sienna.

‘Where is she?’

‘What?’

‘Your fiancee. Where is she? When do I get the chance to meet her?’

‘Oh.’ He shook his head. ‘Soon. I’d like you to be one of her bridesmaids. It’s probably just as well you’re here early.’ ‘That’s what I figured,’ she said, sipping at her tea innocently. ‘Anyone else I know in the wedding party?’

‘Probably only Yannis. I’ve asked him to be my best man, of course.’

The cup stilled at her lips, and something briefly clouded her eyes, something he didn’t quite understand, before she looked up at him and threw him one of those dazzling smiles that lit up the room. ‘Of course. Who else? Anyway, what’s she like, this bride of yours. Tell me about her. This is so amazing, big brother, I’ve never know you to stick with a woman for more than a month in your life. She must be something to have got you to commit.’

‘She is,’ he said with surprise, his voice choking, his ears straining for any sound. ‘You’ll meet her soon.’

‘Is she pretty?’

He jerked his head around, his fingers tangling together, his feet itchy, unable to keep still. Was she pretty? In his mind’s eye he saw her hair, coiling around her face, refusing to be restrained, and shining copper against the most perfect translucent skin. Dio, she wasn’t just pretty, she was breathtaking, a breath of fiesh air on a stifling summer’s day, a slice of paradise in every smile. ‘She’ll make a great first lady for Montvelatte,’ he said, realising how lame the words sounded the minute they’d left his mouth.

Marietta considered him carefully, her long-lashed eyes as calculating as any computer. ‘But you love her, right?’

Sienna had madea hash of the afternoon. Blown any sense of camaraderie she and Rafe had been building up because she’d had an epiphany. An epiphany she wanted to run kicking and screaming from. A thunderclap that, at first, had seen continuing her endeavours to make him love her all but pointless.

She’d wanted to wallow in the depths then. She deserved to wallow. To consider herself lost, like some storm-tossed traveller at sea, miles from home, without a sign of land, and bereft of loved ones. Iseo’s Pyramid had never looked so appealing.

But there was no escape, and nothing would change the truth. She loved Rafe Lombardi. love Raphael Lombardi. She wasn’t supposed to love him, but she’d gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

And she could deny it all she wanted. She could rail against the injustice of it She could drive herself and everyone around her crazy by fighting it and fighting them, but then what good would that do?

Or she could keep going with her plan. Just because her father had never loved her mother, didn’t mean that Rafe could never love her. She was sure he felt something for her. There was a spark—something—that was worth pursuing, no matter how much he tried to compartmentalise her usefulness in his life somewhere between recreation and procreation.

It was no consolation that her mother had probably felt just as sure that she would be able to make Sienna’s father love her. It was no help at all.

But if she was to win through this, then she had to look to the positives. Rafe could love her, she was sure.

She had to be sure.

Sebastiano seemed to respect her need for quiet and drove at a gentle pace up the mountain to the Castello, the shadow thrown by the building casting the road into a half-light that seemed strangely to fit her mood.

Half-light. Where she felt now, knowing she loved Rafe. Knowing he didn’t love her.

Half-light. A possible future of unreciprocated one-way affection if she didn’t try.

Did she want to live life that way? Hell, no.

Rafe’s car was still in the driveway when they pulled up, but something else captured her attention. The JetRanger sitting pretty in the centre of the helipad below, the familiar navy-and-white colours of her former employer proudly displayed. Just the sight of it was enough to rip open the scar of losing her recent life.

Sebastiano opened the door for her, caught the direction of her lingering gaze, and sought to explain. ‘Princess Marietta arrived in it two hours ago. I believe the pilot is waiting to collect a delivery before taking off.’

She turned to him. ‘Who’s the pilot? Do you know?’ She hadn’t been with the company that long, but just the thought of connecting with someone from her former life—anyone— lifted her spirits immeasurably.

Sebastiano gave a nod. ‘I will find out for you. But if you would like to step inside, I dare say Princess Marietta would like to meet you.’

Sienna hesitated a fraction longer, her gaze on the chopper, her fingers itching to hold a joystick again. She’d missed flying, missed being part of the endless sky. A gust of wind came from nowhere, and her eyes scanned further afield, to where the sky was deepening and even the water below was chopping up, looking more threatening. Maybe they were right. A summer storm. That would be something to see.

Then, with one last look at the helicopter, Sienna followed Sebastiano inside.

She heard voices coming from the library, Rafe’s rumbling deep tones and a woman’s voice, her laughter light and infectious, and, without having even met the woman, Sienna liked her already. It would be nice to have another woman around, nice to have someone to talk to, and she was about to enter the room when she heard it.

‘But you love her, right?’

Sienna stopped short of the doorway, holding her breath, her senses on red alert. There was only one person they could be talking about

The silence stretched on for ever as Sienna waited, her ears straining to hear his response over the pounding of her heart. ‘Did you know she was pregnant? We’re expecting twins.’

She looked to the ceiling, her fingers clenching and unclenching as Rafe deftly sidestepped the issue. From inside the room, she heard the sounds of Marietta’s delight, her squeal when she heard the news about the twins, while outside the room Sienna closed her eyes and breathed deep. She knew she couldn’t keep standing here eavesdropping forever. She would have to enter the room, meet Rafe’s sister, and pretend everything was all right. When nothing was right and everything was all wrong.

Desperately wrong, when a perfect day could turn upside down. Where a fragile peace was going to be the best they could ever hope for.

She couldn’t meet Marietta now, couldn’t pretend that everything was all right and that she was the blushing bride. Brides were supposed to look radiant, and right now she didn’t have a sailor’s chance against Iseo’s Pyramid of pulling that off. As quietly as she had come, she turned and headed for the stairs.

‘So, big brother,’his sister said, ‘anyone would think you were avoiding the question. You do love her, then?’

His sister hadn’t changed a bit. He’d thought he’d thrown her off topic with the news of the twins, but she could always be like a dog with a bone when it suited her. He got up and walked to the windows, noticed the darkening sky and the brooding light, but it was on noticing the car parked next to his that he frowned. Where was she? He turned back to his sister. ‘You always were a hopeless romantic, Marietta.’

‘And you were always a hard-nosed cynic.’

‘With good reason!’

She got up and joined him at the window, her hand on his arm. ‘Raphael, what happened to Mama, it doesn’t have to be like that.’

‘It won’t be. I’ve made sure of it. Sienna will make the perfect wife.’ Once she could get her hormones under control.

‘Without love?’

‘We get on fine.’ Although, given today’s events, it could be better.

‘So,’ she continued, and he sighed, knowing the interrogation was far from over, wishing Sienna would arrive so that he might be spared, and his sister would turn her powers of inquisition in her direction instead. ‘You’re marrying this woman, who’s carrying your twin babies and who is expected to become part of some royal fishbowl, but you don’t love her?’

‘It’s easier that way,’ he said, turning his attention once more out the window, Iseo’s Pyramid growing more evil-looking in the darkening sky, the usual cloud of seabirds absent, as if they’d all already hunkered down for the storm.

‘So what’s in it for her?’

‘She gets to be a princess. Isn’t that every little girl’s dream? It used to be yours.’

Marietta conceded his point with a nod. ‘Although my father was a prince, so it’s slightly different. But is Sienna happy with that?’

‘She will be.’

‘And she doesn’t love you?’

‘Of course not! ’ And after the things he’d said to her today, he’d be surprised if she was even talking to him. He flinched when he remembered. He shouldn’t have likened her to a high-class whore. She hadn’t deserved that.

‘Just as well.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Only this, big brother. Our mother adored our father and all for nothing because he was incapable of returning that love. She died lonely and bitter because of it. So if you care at all for this woman, don’t let that happen to her.’

He had to prise his teeth apart in order to speak. ‘It won’t.’

Rafe found her in her room, collecting up her damp towels, freshly showered and smelling like a new morning after a night of rain showers. And even in the jeans and singlet top she’d changed into, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail behind her head, she looked so beautiful that the desire to possess her swelled up large in his chest.

‘Marietta was hoping to meet you.’

Her eyes were cool, noncommittal, and he figured she was still angry with him from their argument on the boat. ‘I’m sorry. I needed to freshen up. Is she staying?’

He nodded, watching her carefully, searching for any sign that Marietta could be right, and that Sienna might somehow have fallen in love with him. ‘She’s joining us for dinner.’ ‘Fine.’ She made a move towards the bathroom with the wet towels.

‘Sienna...’

‘What?’

‘Somebody else will get those.’

‘They’re only towels. It’s no trouble to hang them up.’

He followed her into the bathroom. ‘Look, I shouldn’t have said what I did, on the boat.’

She looped one towel over the rail, not even looking at him. ‘Which bit, exactly?’

He reached a hand behind his neck and massaged muscles tight and stiff. ‘When I likened you to some high-society whore. I shouldn’t have said that.’

She sniffed, sliding the other towel over the rail to join the first, fussing with the edges so they exactly aligned. ‘I don’t know, I actually thought referring to me as “some bitch in heat” was equally as offensive.’ Satisfied with the placement of the towels, she turned and pushed past him, back into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed, slipping sandals onto her feet.

‘I was angry.’

‘I’ll say, not that I think that excuses you. Seems to me that it’s okay for you to demand sex and to tell me that you want me, but that the moment I do, I’m some kind of whore.’ She stood up. ‘How does that double standard work, exactly?’ ‘I’m sorry. I was out of line.’

‘Yes, you were. Now, if you’ll excuse me?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Just for a walk.’ She felt no compunction to tell him where and what for, no need to tell him that the pilot of the helicopter was a former colleague and that she was looking forward to talking to someone she’d known longer than ten minutes. Sebastiano had promised her he’d be able to give her a few minutes before the chopper had to take off, before the curfew came into effect. ‘To clear my head.’

‘The wind’s getting up. Don’t take the cliff walk.’

This time she managed to dredge up a smile. ‘No. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘And, Sienna.’

She turned just inside the door. ‘Yes?’

‘Marietta was worried about you.’ He noticed the slight frown that puckered her brow. ‘I thought I should say something.’ Her frown deepened. ‘About what?’

‘About how things are between us. About how they have to be.’

He had her full interest now, every cell in her body sitting up and taking notice. She shut the door and turned towards him, crossing her arms in front of her. ‘So tell me.’

‘This won’t be a normal marriage.’

She gave a brief laugh. ‘You think I haven’t picked up on that? But why should Marietta be worried about me. We’ve never even met’

‘Because of what happened to my mother. A long time ago.’ He dragged in a breath and threw his eyes to the ceiling, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but here, and meanwhile she waited, caught between wanting to flee and to protect her emotions from yet another roller coaster ride, and wanting to stay and hear what he had to say. To get to the bottom of his fears and hang-ups, to have him open up to her about his family and what made him the person he was—surely he wouldn’t do this unless she meant something to him? She didn’t want to raise her hopes, only to have them cut down again. But neither could she live without hope. Had Marietta made him see something he hadn’t seen himself?

‘My father’s first wife died suddenly,’ he began, ‘and he was left to raise two young sons.’

‘Carlo and Roberto,’ she said quietly, filling in the blanks, and he nodded.

‘He was devastated for a time, thrown completely by her loss and by the unexpected responsibility of deciding what happened to the next generation. My mother was enlisted to help the nanny, and she was very beautiful. When you meet Marietta you will see what I mean; she is very much like her mother, who was not only beautiful, but a rare blonde in an island filled with dark-haired people. She stood out and she was noticed. My father was still grieving his lost wife, but he was smitten with my mother’s beauty and seduced her, wanting no more than relief from the anguish of losing his wife. Meanwhile she was young and overcome by his apparent affection, and she had fallen in love with him.

‘When she became pregnant, he moved her out of the palace, but still he went to her. And still my mother took him in. I think she believed that one day he would marry her and make her his princess.

‘But she fell pregnant again. Meanwhile my father found another mistress, younger and with more time on her hands, and my mother was distraught. He sent her away, offering her a settlement if only she never returned. So she left’

The seconds ticked away, an antique mantel clock that she never noticed except for the deepest, darkest nights, sounding like a drumbeat in the ensuing silence, with only the wind whistling outside for company.

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘So that you know the risks.’

‘Risks?’ She battled to make sense of it all. ‘I still don’t understand. What’s your mother got to do with me?’

His eyes were so dark and deep, she felt in that moment she could fall into them and never find her way out. ‘She fell in love with a man who was incapable of loving her. I’m warning you not to do the same thing.’