Dark amusement tinged his fathomless voice, making her almost see, taste, the smile that tugged at his lips. “You sound awake.”
“I am now, thanks to a royal pain.”
A bone-liquefying reverberation poured right into her brain, yanking at her responses. “So you still wake up ready.”
He didn’t say for what. He didn’t need to. She’d been always ready for anything with him, on waking up in his arms. Even now, when her mind wanted only to roast him slowly over an open fire, her body obeyed his inexorable influence, readying itself with a languid throb of remembrance and yearning.
And that was before his voice dropped another octave as he whispered, “If I woke you up, I’m glad. I shouldn’t be the only one who can’t sleep tonight.”
“Your conscience weighing on you?” Her voice, to her dismay, was rough and thick, aroused, nowhere as demolishing as she intended it to be. “Or have you long had that removed? Or has it always been genetically missing?”
His chuckle was louder this time, more enervating. “Its deployment hasn’t been required in our current situation. As I mentioned before, my offer is beneficial to everyone, starting with you. Now enough of that. What did you decide?”
“You mean I
can
decide? Now, that’s a new development.”
“It’s a few-hours-old one. I already made it unquestionable that it’s up to you. I just couldn’t wait till morning for your verdict.”
“Good thing that you called, so
I
wouldn’t have to wait to tell you that I never want to see or hear from you again.”
“That’s not on the menu of options open to you. Being my temporary princess is a done deal. And as such, you’ll see plenty of me. I’m only inquiring if you’ve decided to see
all
of me.”
Her huff was less exasperated with him than disgusted with the clench of longing at his lazy, overpowering seduction. “I guess you decided to develop a sense of humor and you had to start from scratch. I must have your late blooming to thank for this juvenile double-talk.”
“I apologize for my trite attempts at euphemisms.” He sounded serious all of a sudden. Just as she wondered if she’d finally managed to offend him, his voice plunged into the darkest reaches of temptation. “So when will you let me strip you naked, worship and own and exploit every inch of your mind-blowing new curves for my pleasure and yours? When will you let me kiss and caress you within an inch of your sanity, suckle and stroke you to a few screaming orgasms before sinking inside you and riding you into oblivion?”
Breath sheared out of her lungs, heartbeats fractured against her ribs. The surge of images crowded her mind’s eye with memories of her desperation for his touch and assuagement.
She’d asked for that when she’d taunted him. Not that she’d thought he’d say…
“Mind-blowing new curves?”
She almost groaned. She couldn’t believe that was what she’d latched on to in all the mind-melting things he’d just said. Seemed body-image issues were so hardwired that they’d override even the heart attack he’d almost given her. But she
had
put on weight she wasn’t happy about and couldn’t believe he found it appealing.
“Ah,
si, bellissima,
every inch of you has…appreciated. You were always gorgeous down to your toes, but the years have ripened you into something impossibly…more. I ached the whole time you were at my penthouse to test and taste every remembered wonder, every new enhancement. I am now in agony to explore and devour every part of you. And I know you need every part of me, too, on you, in you. I can feel your arousal echoing mine even at this distance. But if you think you’re not ready yet, I’ll come…persuade you. I’ll remind you what it was like between us, prove to you how much better it will be now we’re both older and wiser and certain of what we want.”
Fighting another surge of response and haywire heartbeats, she said, “Now that I’m older and wiser, you think I’ll let you have me without guarantees, like when I was young and stupid?”
“You want a ring first? I can bring it with me right now.”
“
No.
That’s not what I meant….” She gulped, her head spinning. This was zooming beyond warp speed. Just a few hours ago she’d never thought she’d see him again. Now he was almost seducing her, over the phone no less, and she was a breath away from telling him to just hurry the hell over. “I didn’t mean material guarantees. I meant guarantees of being treated with respect when you decide I’m no longer ‘convenient.’ I don’t even have the advantage or excuse of obliviousness like I did when I believed you valued me.”
A silent moment followed. Then an expressionless drawl. “Let’s leave the past buried. We’re different people now.”
“Are we? Maybe you are, whatever the hell you are. But unlike you, I have one basic character, and I’m pretty much the same person I was six years ago. Just older and wiser, as you pointed out, and aware that what you’re suggesting would cause long-term damage. And mentioning that, if I become your ‘princess,’ temporary or not…”
“
When
you become my princess. Very soon. Though, with the necessary preparations, not soon enough. But say the word, and I’ll be worshiping your glorious body within the hour—”
She cut him off before she combusted. “I demand to have a say in the details, since I have no choice in the fundamental stuff. If part of this charade is a ring, then I want to choose it. You’ll have it back in the end, but I’m the one who’s going to be wearing it, and ‘only a year’ is still a long time.”
His voice suddenly lost the mind-scrambling sexiness and filled with a different passion. “Then you will choose your ring. And everything else you want. As my princess you can and will have everything you wish for.”
Her heart squeezed into her throat. “Weird. I have a two-hundred-page volume detailing how I can’t have anything.”
Silence stretched over long seconds.
A forcible exhalation followed. “That volume is only to…” He stopped again. As if he couldn’t find the right words. Which was even weirder. Vincenzo was never at a loss for words.
She decided to help him out. “Only to protect you from any opportunistic ideas I might develop at contract termination. So it’s strange you’re willing to be wide-open for those same ideas at its start. Not that I want anything from you, but I’m just observing the contradictions.”
Another long silence answered her.
Then another heavy exhalation. “I changed my mind.”
He did? He was taking back his offer of “everything”? Figured. That must have been his need to have sex talking. She must have managed to douse his desire and he was back to thinking straight, and taking back his reckless concessions.
Then he went on. “You don’t have to sign if you find it excessive. And you don’t have to make a decision now. And you
are
free to say no. Of course, I won’t stop trying to persuade you. But for now, you can go back to sleep. I’ll come for you tomorrow at five to pick the ring. Sorry if I woke you up.”
The line went dead.
She pulled the phone from her ear, staring down at it.
What was that all about? Had that been a fourth man inhabiting his body?
What was she walking into? And with which man? Or would it be with all of them? With him changing from one to the other until he drove her mad with confusion, insane with wanting him—whoever he was—and self-destructing in the process?
Not that she had any choice. She’d enter his den, and wouldn’t exit it for the next year. It was doubtful she’d exit in one piece.
No. Not doubtful.
Impossible.
Four
“I
mpossible!”
Vincenzo cocked his head at his valet’s stupefaction. The fondness Alonzo always stirred in him relaxed lips that had been spastic with tension since his conversation with Glory last night.
Even over the phone, she’d seeped under his skin and into his system and confounded his common sense. He shouldn’t have called her in the first place. But he’d been unable to stop. The indiscretion alone had been enough to expose his condition, but he hadn’t left anything to her imagination, had told her in exhaustive detail he was burning for her.
Then at the first tinge of disappointment and indignation in her voice, he’d offered anything at all in hope of erasing it. He’d taken back every precaution his mind—not to mention his attorney—insisted were indispensable to protect him.
He jerked back to the moment as Alonzo, in a totally uncharacteristic action, grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Are you teasing me? Because I was lamenting the other day that it seemed both of us would end up shriveled-up bachelors? But…you never joke.” Alonzo’s vivid green eyes widened. “
Dio.
You mean it. You
are
getting married.”
He hadn’t told Alonzo why, or how. For reasons he wasn’t up to facing, he wanted Alonzo to think this was real. And to treat the whole thing accordingly. To treat Glory accordingly.
“When?
How?
” Alonzo grabbed his own head in dramatic disbelief. “You met a woman, fell in love with her, decided to marry her, asked her and had her agree without my knowledge?”
That would have been an impossibility, indeed. Alonzo was almost his shadow, had been indispensable to him since his teens, even before he lost his parents, smoothing out his daily life, anticipating his needs and providing him with hassle-free, meticulous support and problem solving in everything that didn’t involve work and most things that did. He’d only gotten Glory’s visit under Alonzo’s radar because he’d sent him on some needless errand. Not that Alonzo would have recognized her. In a weird coincidence, Alonzo had taken his one and only prolonged leave of absence during Vincenzo’s affair with Glory. It was probably the reason she’d been able to breach him that totally….
Oh, who was he fooling? He’d been the one and only reason. He’d left himself wide-open to her. And as she’d shrewdly commented, he was doing it again.
Clearly unaware of his turmoil, Alonzo pursued his own perplexity. “But most important, who?” Alonzo grimaced as if at an unsavory thought. “Please, don’t tell me it’s one of those women you parade for the paparazzi!”
This was another of the privacies that only Alonzo was privy to. That Vincenzo’s reputation had been manufactured. By him. To keep hopeful and gold-digging women away. To keep women away, period. He’d found a ruthless playboy’s image much more effectively off-putting than a reclusive scientist-prince’s. Around a year after breaking up with Glory, he’d started hiring “escorts” wherever he went, to paint the image he wanted.
Not that he hadn’t been with women outside his propaganda campaign. He’d tried. If not for long. After a few encounters had ended with him being unable to…rise to the occasion, he’d given up. Alonzo had even once asked if Vincenzo had changed his mind about his orientation, asking if he could take the glad tidings to the gay community that Vincenzo might be on the market soon.
Alonzo had been scandalized when Vincenzo had told him he’d just decided to take an open-ended leave of absence from sex. According to Alonzo, that was the most unnatural thing he’d ever heard. A virile man in his prime owed it to the world to give and receive pleasure to and from as many people as possible. Since he had no partner, of course.
But that had been the problem. While Vincenzo didn’t have a partner, his body didn’t know that. It had already been imprinted with Glory’s code. And though his mind had rejected her, there’d been no reprogramming his body.
Now he decided to tell Alonzo what would appeal to the hopeless romantic in him. What had been true, if he didn’t mention the parts that made it also ugly and painful.
“Her name is Glory Monaghan. She’s an American who was once my executive consultant, and now she’s consulting for major humanitarian operations. I fell in love with her during that time you went with Gio to Brazil. It ended…badly. Then Ferruccio slammed me with a royal decree to get married to clean up my image so I can be Castaldini’s representative to the United Nations. And after all these years, and in spite of the way we parted, she was the only one I could think of. I sought her out again and found her hold on me is stronger than ever. Things…developed, and now…I’ll marry her.”
Alonzo’s eyes, which had been reddening as he listened, now filled. “Oh,
mio ragazzo caro!
I have no words…no words…”
Vincenzo wondered if he’d ever get used to Alonzo calling him “dear boy.” And he wondered if he was making a mistake by hiding the nature of his impending marriage.
Alonzo interrupted his heavy musings by doing something he hadn’t done since Vincenzo was twelve. He pulled Vincenzo into a fatherly hug. Alonzo
had
been that to him, even more than his real father, though Bernardo D’Agostino had been an exceptional father, too.
Vincenzo accepted Alonzo’s distraught joy, only wishing it was founded on something genuine, already starting to regret that he’d misled him.
Before he could make qualifications that would temper Alonzo’s delight and expectations, and his subsequent letdown when things came to an inevitable end, Alonzo pulled back with a look of absolute anxiety on his face.
“Please tell me you’re giving me enough time to prepare!”
Vincenzo shook his head, his lips once again tugging at how passionately Alonzo felt about everything. “Anyone hearing you would think it’s your wedding, Alonzo.”
“If only!” Alonzo’s eyes filled with mockery and not a little resignation. “If Gio hasn’t popped the question in fifteen years, he isn’t about to do so now.”
And for that, Vincenzo considered Giordano Mancini a major ass. Everyone knew Alonzo was his partner, but Giordano seemed to think that if he didn’t openly admit it and didn’t live with him he would avoid the prejudices that plagued same-sex relationships. As a businessman who came from a deeply traditional family, everyone turned a blind eye to his sexual orientation as long as he wasn’t blatant about it.
Which outraged Vincenzo to no end. He considered Giordano a coward who shortchanged Alonzo to protect himself. So same-sex marriages were still not accepted in Castaldini, but Vincenzo had told Gio he’d stand up for them, make sure everyone showed them every respect and courtesy, personally and professionally. His assurances hadn’t been enough for Gio, and he’d convinced Alonzo that they didn’t need a certificate or the world’s acceptance to be happy. Or at least, Alonzo pretended to be convinced so he could stay with the man he loved. But his reaction now proved that he still yearned for the validation of his beloved’s public proclamation, and the delight of preparing a ceremony to celebrate their bond.
Vincenzo’s gaze settled heavily on Alonzo. Everyone thought Vincenzo couldn’t be more different from the man, fourteen years his senior, who’d been his closest companion since he was ten. Only he knew how similar they were where it mattered. They were both detail-oriented and goal-focused. But most important, they suffered from the same fundamental ailment. Monogamy. The one thing stopping him from telling Alonzo to kick that guy out of his life was that Gio was equally exclusive.
At least so far. Vincenzo had made certain. If that ever changed, Gio wouldn’t know what hit him.
“But it’s worse.” Alonzo’s exclamation interrupted Vincenzo’s aggressive thoughts. “It’s
your
wedding. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?”
“I can subtract, Alonzo. Since you started droning that I should get married when I wasn’t yet twenty. It’s been two decades since you started longing to plan the elusive day.”
“But it’s elusive no more! I could kiss King Ferruccio for pushing you to make the decision.”
“You just want to kiss Ferruccio under any pretext,” he teased.
After that, Alonzo deluged him with questions, milking him for info on dates, preferences, Glory and everything besides, so he could start preparing the “Wedding of the Century,” as he was adamant it would be. He insisted he’d have to get his hands on Glory ASAP so he’d get her input, and construct the perfect “setting” for Vincenzo’s royal jewel.
Alonzo only left him alone when he told him of his ring-picking mission, for which he’d yet to prepare.
Alonzo almost skipped out of the room in his excitement about the million things he had to arrange and the prospect of his prince getting a princess at last.
Once alone, Vincenzo attacked planning the perfect ring rendezvous with as much single-mindedness as he did his most crucial scientific or business endeavors. But even with his far-reaching influence, it still took hours to prepare things to his satisfaction, leaving only two before his self-imposed appointment with Glory.
He rushed into his bathroom, ticking off the things he needed to do. To get ready for her.
Lust and longing seethed in his arteries as he entered the shower cubicle, letting the hot water sting some measure of relief into his tension. Not that it worked. He felt about to explode, as he had when he’d called Glory. He’d felt he might suffer some lasting damage if he didn’t spend the rest of the night all over her, inside her, assuaging the hunger that had come crashing to the fore at renewed exposure to her.
But although he was still in agony, he was glad she’d resisted him, and that he’d backed off. And he was fiercely satisfied that his domineering tactics had made her push back. This was how he wanted it, wanted her, giving him the elation of the struggle, the exhilaration of the challenge. And she’d done that and more. She’d asked to pick her ring.
Suddenly, something that had been clenched inside him since he’d lost his dream of a life with her unfurled. The plan he’d started executing only twenty-four hours ago had been derailed. It had taken on a life of its own. He no longer had the least control over it or himself.
And he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.
She’s bewitched you all over again.
He smirked at that inner voice’s effort to jolt him out of his intentions. It failed. He didn’t care if she had. All his caution and self-preservation had only brought him melancholy and isolation. He was sick of them, of knowing that without her, he’d feel this way forever. It had taken seeing her again to prove that she was the only thing to bring him to life.
It might feel this way, but it’s an illusion. It has always been.
He still didn’t care. If the illusion felt that good, why not succumb to it? As long as he knew it was one.
What if knowing still won’t protect you when it ends?
He frowned at the valid thought.
But no. Anything was better than the rut he was in. Apart from those months he’d had with her, all he’d done since he could remember was research, perform his business and royal duties, eat, exercise and sleep. Rinse and repeat in an unending cycle of emotional vacuum. Alone.
But when he had her again, he wouldn’t be alone anymore. And he’d slake that obdurate sex drive of his with the only one who fueled and quenched it, who satisfied his every taste and need. For a year.
What if it isn’t enough
?
What if you start this and sink so deep you can’t climb out again? Last time you almost drowned. You barely survived, with permanent damage.
So be it. He was doing this. Letting go and gorging on every second of her. At whatever risk. He’d never have a real marriage, anyway. His only chance of that had been with her. Now that he’d already experienced the worst, he’d be prepared. At the end of the year, if he still wanted her as unstoppably as he did now, he’d negotiate an extension. And another, and another, until this unquenchable passion died out. It
had
to be extinguished at some point.
What if it only rages higher until it consumes you?
No, it wouldn’t.
You’re only hoping it won’t. Against all evidence.
So what if it did consume him? After six barren years of safeguarding his emotions until they atrophied, of expanding his achievements until they’d swallowed up his existence, not to mention being bored out of his mind and dead inside, maybe it was time to live dangerously. Maybe being consumed wasn’t such a bad idea. Or maybe it was, but so what?
He couldn’t think of a better way to go.
And as long as he took her with him, he couldn’t wait to hurl himself into the inferno.
*
Though she’d been counting down seconds, Glory’s heart still rattled inside her rib cage like a coin inside an empty steel box when her bell rang at five o’clock sharp.
Smoothing hands damp with nervousness over the cool linen of her pants, she took measured steps to the door.
The moment she pulled the door open, she felt like she’d been hit by a car. And that was before she realized how Vincenzo looked. Exactly how he had looked the first time he’d shown up on her doorstep.
Her head spun, her senses stampeded with his effect now, with the reliving of his influence then.
A deepest navy silk suit, offset with a silver-gray shirt of the same spellbinding hue as his eyes, hugged the perfection of his juggernaut body. The thick waves of his hair were brushed back to curl behind his ears and caress his collar, exposing his virile hairline and leonine forehead. He even smelled of that same unique scent. Pine bodywash, cool sea-breeze aftershave, fresh minty breath and the musk of his maleness and desire. His scent was so potent, she’d once believed it was an aphrodisiac. Her conviction was renewed.
Had he meant this? To show up on her doorstep like he had that first day, only a minute after she’d said yes, making her realize he’d been already there? Dressed and groomed exactly like he had been then? The only difference was the maturity that amplified his beauty.