Honeymoon With a Prince (Royal Scandals) (18 page)

“You’re being freed, Ms. Chase,” he said, unlocking the door.
 
The extra keys clanged against the bright yellow bars like in a scene from a movie.
 
He waved for her to accompany him, suddenly in a great hurry to get her out of the small space after hours of telling her to be patient.
 
“Your debts have been paid.”

He said it in a manner that insinuated she’d shirked multiple bills for months on end.
 
She bit back her annoyance and asked, “So the payment went through?”

“No.
 
A payment was made on your behalf for the night you spent in the villa.”
 

She froze in place.
 
“A payment was
made
?
 
By whom?”

The officer seemed surprised by the question, as if Kelly should know who bailed her out.
 
“There’s a gentleman waiting in the lobby who claimed that the bill was his responsibility.
 
He has offered to give you a ride to wherever you need to go.”

She felt her jaw hang open in surprise and quickly pressed her lips together.
 
It had to be Ted.
 

She shouldn’t be surprised to discover he’d come to Sarcaccia.
 
After all, he’d been invited to the charity ball that’d prompted her to look into honeymooning here in the first place.
 
Instead of staying in the villa, he’d likely made a reservation at one of the five-star hotels on the island, which was where he’d wanted to stay in the first place.
 
It would explain why he canceled the villa reservation and why the call she’d placed to him after arriving at the police station—once she’d discovered there was a problem with the joint account—went straight to his voice mail.
 

Great.
 
Now she’d have to deal with Ted on the honeymoon they weren’t enjoying together.
 

The officer pulled open the door to the reception area and waved for her to go through.
 
“Your belongings are at the front desk.
 
Officer Scarpa will have a few forms for you to sign, then you’re free to go.”

She took a deep breath, girding herself for whatever might be on the other side of the door.
 
As the scent of old coffee, dust, and ink filled her lungs, the rest of the officer’s words sunk in.
 
She glanced sideways at him.
 
“Wait…you said the night was paid for.
 
What about the rest of the week?”

“I believe the landlord planned to rent the villa to another couple.”
 
He appeared nonplussed, as if Kelly should’ve expected this.
 
“You’ll need to contact him.
 
We don’t have anything to do with that.
 
Maybe your, ah, friend knows.”

Of course.
 
She wondered what story Ted had fed the police, given the way the officer used the word
friend
.
 
Squaring her shoulders, she passed the officer and sailed through the door to the reception area, ready to face Ted in all his blonde-haired, blue-eyed, polished glory, undoubtedly wearing his usual immaculately pressed clothes and a self-satisfied expression at bailing her out of jail.
 

Instead of Ted, she found herself face-to-face with a scruffy-faced, broad-shouldered man wearing the same white shirt he’d worn to dinner last night.
 
A man whose intelligent olive eyes seemed to see right through her bravado.
 
A man whom, frankly, she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to strangle or take to bed.
 

That is, assuming she even had a bed.
 

She managed to contain her astonishment at the sight of her apparent liberator.
 
She couldn’t call the bank yet to access her account, meaning that, for the time being, she would have to endure the presence of His Royal Highness, Prince Massimo Barrali.

Chapter Eleven

Aware that they stood before a rapt audience, Kelly managed to conjure the same courteous smile for Massimo she often used for ticket takers or waiters, despite the fact that looking at the man made her mouth go dry.
 
She should have realized he was more than a random, good-looking beachgoer when he’d approached her lounger yesterday.
 
She definitely should have figured it out by morning.
 
He radiated charisma and sex appeal even when standing in a nondescript police station lobby.
 
When he tipped his head in polite acknowledgement as she entered the lobby, her stomach did a slow, needful flip.

How was it that she could instantly
want
him again?
 
He appeared as disheveled as she did.
 
Perhaps worse given that, though she could hide her morning breath, he couldn’t hide his need to shave.
 
Yet he drew her attention as surely as a flower turned toward the rays of the morning sun.
 

For crying out loud, she should know better.
 
She
did
know better.
 
He let her go to jail.

Yet he appeared to have the same mesmerizing effect on everyone else in the room…and they were all male.

“Hello again, Ms. Chase.
 
I felt terrible about your situation this morning, given that you located my dog for me.
 
I asked the police if I could pay your debt, as I am in yours.
 
And I vouched for your identity, so they now know that you are, indeed, the person who reserved the villa, even if the names are different.”

His voice sounded so formal, so…
regal
…that she could swear the officers sucked in their stomachs and puffed their chests as Massimo spoke.
 
No wonder the laughing, barfing boys in the cell beside hers had quieted when they’d heard the commotion in the lobby.
 
They likely recognized the voice as belonging to one of their country’s most well-known inhabitants.
 

In her mind, however, she heard the more casual version of that voice, the voice that had whispered in her ear during the night.
 
The voice that offered her wine, teased her in the shower, groaned as he’d found release.
 
It was the most intimate sound she’d ever heard a man make, and it’d come from
this
man.
 

This man who said he’d paid her debt.
 

The dichotomy of it rankled.

“Thank you,” she managed.
 
She stood immobilized for fear of putting her foot in her mouth.
 
It wasn’t her debt.
 
Well, it
was
, but it should never have been a problem.
 
She hadn’t been irresponsible, though everyone in the station treated her that way.
 
And now Massimo wanted to fix things with money and influence.

The creak of a door caught her attention.
 
Officer Scarpa materialized from a room behind the counter, carrying a clipboard with several papers.
 
He extended the clipboard to her and asked that she complete the documentation.
 
Once she finished and handed the papers back to him, he set her purse on the counter and had her check its contents.
 
When she confirmed that everything was in order, he told her she was free to go and that if the police had any further questions for her, they’d be in touch.

He hardly looked at her as he spoke.
 
He—and the rest of the officers—appeared transfixed by Massimo.

Massimo gifted her with a patronizing smile as she turned to look for her bag.
 
“I’m happy to give you a ride, Ms. Chase.
 
It’s the least I can do.”
 
He pushed open the set of glass doors leading to the street, his behavior reminding her of a five-star hotel’s doorman.
 
That’s when she noticed that her suitcase was already in his hand.
 
Rather than yanking it from his grasp and creating even more gossip for the police, she kept her head high and exited into the bright sunshine.
 
Massimo’s Jeep was at the curb directly in front of the station, in a spot marked for government personnel only.

Well, she supposed he was the epitome of government personnel.
 

Massimo lifted her suitcase into the back seat as if it weighed nothing, then opened the passenger door for her.
 
She glanced back at the station to ensure they couldn’t be heard, then said, “Don’t you find this a little bit awkward?”

“Perhaps.”
 
His eyes met hers in challenge.
 

“And you didn’t bring Gaspare as a buffer?”
 

“He’s napping at home.
 
The boy had a late night.”
   

She blinked at the casual, almost flirty tone, so different from what he’d used in the station.
 
The change flustered her.
 
“You do own a dog named Gaspare, don’t you?”

“I do.
 
And you’re asking me…why?”

“To make certain you told me at least one truth last night before I trust you to drive me anywhere.”
 
Not that she had a clue where to go whether he gave her a ride or not.

He glanced up and down the street, then returned his attention to her.
 
“Why, do you have other transportation?”

“I might.”
 
If her feet counted.

“Glad to know we’re being honest with each other.”
 
He gestured toward the front seat with a flourish and issued a commanding,
 
“Get in.”

“First I’d like to know where we’re headed.”

The smile he flashed looked exactly like the polite, professional one she’d deigned to give him only a moment before, when she’d exited the holding area to discover him waiting for her.
 
“Away from the cameras across the street.
 
No, don’t look.
 
There are two of them.
 
My guess is that either the property manager or someone in the police station tipped off the local paparazzi, though they did seem surprised when I drove up.
 
More will come if we don’t leave soon.”

That got her moving.
 
She slid into the Jeep as Massimo rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side.
 
He moved at a relaxed pace, as if he were visiting the police station on a routine errand rather than bailing out the woman with whom he’d spent the previous night.
 
The sun-warmed leather sent heat straight through her T-shirt, bringing sweat to the surface of her skin.
 
Or maybe it was the thought that she was sitting beside a man so famous he actually had paparazzi following him that made her sweat.

“As if I don’t look bad enough already,” she grumbled, pulling her sticky shirt away from her back.
 
Now her clothes would look as nasty as her mouth tasted.
 

“What’s that?”
 
Massimo said as he closed the door.

“Nothing.
 
Talking to myself.”
 
She propped her elbow against the door and scrubbed a hand across her forehead.
 
“The last twenty-four hours have been rather unexpected.”

His silence drew her gaze.
 
Once he had her attention, he waggled his eyebrows—the goofiest, most un-royal action she could imagine, particularly from a man of his size and imposing demeanor—then quietly said, “Surprise.”

He’d done it to make her smile, but she couldn’t muster one.
 
Instead, she exhaled and rolled her head back into the palm of her hand.
 
Yes, his appearance at the station was a surprise.
 
But once the officer stood before her cell and told her that her debt was paid, maybe it shouldn’t have been.

How stupid was she to think for even a moment that Ted had come to bail her out?
 

First, he likely hated her for ending the engagement so close to their wedding date.
 
No matter how placid he’d been after accepting the returned diamond ring, Ted wasn’t the type who’d deal well with asking family and friends to cancel their travel plans because there wouldn’t be a ceremony.
 
She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d learned that she’d opted to take the honeymoon trip on her own.
 
If he had lingering anger, canceling the villa and insisting there was no Mrs. Robards would’ve been sweet revenge for having to make all those embarrassing phone calls about the canceled wedding.
 
He’d probably revel in the thought of her spending their honeymoon time in a cell.
 
He’d only have bailed her out to see the look on her face at having been humiliated.

And second, he couldn’t have used his original plane ticket.
 
She’d have seen him on the plane if he had, plus the manager claimed that Mr. Robards had missed his flight.
 
The word
duh
echoed in her head at that thought.

A mortifying yawn escaped her.
 
Her brain and body both craved sleep.
 
Crankiness had set in and she needed her wits about her to deal with Massimo, her inability to access her bank account, and an angry landlord who may or may not have re-rented her dream villa.