The Irresistible Royal Page 2

  She summoned a smile and tried desperately to steady her pulse and gather her wits so she didn’t leave him with the impression that she was a complete idiot. ‘Chloe Salvatore.’

  ‘An American accent, Spanish surname and the colouring of a Celtic princess. It’s an unusual combination.’

  Self-consciously, she disengaged her hand from his, but immediately she regretted the loss of contact. ‘My great-grandfather was Spanish, but my grandfather and father were both born in the States.’

  ‘The blue eyes must come from your mother’s family.’

  ‘Yes.’ But her mother was the last person she wanted to talk about. She hoped fervently nobody ever found out she was related to Lidia. At least Lidia had introduced her to everyone as her American guest, rather than acknowledging she had an adult daughter. Desperate to change the subject, she said, ‘You addressed me in Italian. Is it your first language?’

  ‘Si. I’m Ralvinian, not Italian, but Italian is our first language.’

  ‘You speak English exceptionally well.’

  ‘I was educated in England and am based in London.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve probably spoken more English than Italian since I was a boy.’

  When he unleashed another devastating smile, her breathing became shallow. Somehow she couldn’t picture Marco as ever having been a boy. He was the epitome of masculine, virility—so much so it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn he’d been born with the sexy stubble along his jawline and his first present had been a razor blade.

  ‘Do you speak Italian?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I’d love to speak another language fluently. I understand a little Spanish, but there’s not much call for a second language at home.’

  ‘America is still home?’

  She nodded. ‘California is home. My dad has a vineyard and resort in Wild Horse Valley, which is part of the beautiful Napa Valley.’ On safe ground, Chloe began to relax. ‘I’ve heard of Ralvinia but I’m afraid I only have a vague idea that it’s a small kingdom somewhere in the Mediterranean region.’

  ‘Ralvinia shares borders with Santaliana and Italy.’ He must’ve moved a little, because the distance between them lessened. ‘How do you come to be in England?’

  ‘I flew to London this morning to visit my mother, but I didn’t realise we’d be attending a weekend party.’ Chloe stumbled toward him, jostled by a guest who already seemed the worse for alcohol. Marco’s hand on her arm steadied her and drew her closer so she was out of the path of a couple of people who moved past them. At such close proximity, she breathed in the masculine scent of Marco’s aftershave. Trained at an early age by her father’s master sommelier in discerning the various aromas of wines, Chloe inhaled deeply and picked up hints of sage, patchouli and sandalwood.

  Delicious. Just like the man himself.

  The scent did crazy things to her heart rate. Her immediate instinct was to lean into him, close her eyes and savour the freshness of the blend—to press herself against the heat radiating from him. She barely managed to jerk her body away as her eyes started to close.

  What exactly had they been discussing?

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Marco told her huskily. ‘This party has become so much more enjoyable.’

  Gosh. Those deep, sexy tones were both soothing and arousing at the same time.

  It took effort to pull herself together. ‘Actually, I’m about to leave.’

  ‘Good idea. Let’s get out of all this stuffiness and take a walk in the garden.’

  He made the suggestion as smoothly as if he were a rake in a Regency novel. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean I’m leaving the estate, not just the party.’

  ‘Why?’

  She gestured around the room. ‘I don’t know any of these people and I don’t normally spend my Saturday evenings in opulent surroundings, sipping champagne. Honestly, I don’t feel comfortable here and seconds before you introduced yourself, I’d decided I want to go home.’

  ‘Home as in back to California?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you said you arrived only this morning. What about the visit with your mother?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her since I was a child and I’ve realised we have nothing in common.’ He arched an eyebrow at her, but she ignored the question in his expression. ‘It was nice meeting you, Marco.’ She held out her hand to shake his and bring their meeting to an end. ‘I hope you enjoy your weekend.’

  Although he took her hand, he didn’t shake it. Instead he urged her closer and didn’t let her go. ‘It would be a sin to let the most beautiful woman in the room leave when the party has hardly begun.’ Oh, he was smooth. She didn’t believe for a second she was the most beautiful woman present, but her mother had said she was the only single one. ‘Let me convince you to stay.’

  Huh. If he knew her mother was intent on trying to find her a husband and he’d been pointed out as the main contender, she was certain he’d be bidding her adieu faster than she could blink. With his looks, title and wealth, surely he must be an experienced playboy who’d run a mile to avoid the sort of entanglement Lidia planned?

  ‘I’m not sure why everyone is gathered here,’ she said cautiously. ‘This seems to me to be an event where people have come to... er... network—’ social climb, ‘—and I don’t have any networking to do. Besides, I’m far more comfortable at smaller gatherings with close friends.’

  ‘Is that generally how you usually spend your Saturday evenings?’

  Part of her wished she could respond with something to make herself sound interesting. She’d never felt so socially dull in her life. ‘Not recently.’

  Recently she’d been working almost around the clock, heading up a team of young lawyers who were preparing for trial in a case that was the culmination of two years of hard slog. The trial would take place in two months, so she’d jumped on the aircraft only a day after she’d wrapped up all the pre-trial preparation. The plan of having six weeks away left her two weeks after her return to oversee the final preparation of her witnesses. But none of her work was open for discussion because the case was highly confidential.

  ‘What would you be doing tonight were you at home?’ he asked.

  ‘My father’s recovering from a heart attack so I’ve been helping him at the resort and its restaurant any spare time I’ve had.’ And she’d hated leaving him. It was only at her father’s insistence that she’d come. Everything had seemed to stack up against her objections and had smoothed the way for her to make the trip. The doctor had confirmed her dad was doing well, they had close family friends who could keep an eye on him for the six weeks she’d planned to be away, and her boss had thought it was a good idea for her to lay low before the trial. Otherwise, Chloe would never have left her father’s side. He was the most important person in her life.

  ‘Sundays?’

  Chloe was happy with her life, but just this once she found she wished she could respond with something more interesting than the truth. With a wry smile, she said, ‘On an ideal Sunday...’ God, how long ago had she had an ideal Sunday? ‘I sleep in. Then I might read the paper over a leisurely breakfast, play chess with my father, do some study, and finish the day curled up with a good book.’ Or wading through legal cases. There it was. It might sound boring compared to the lifestyle he must lead, but he didn’t disengage himself from their conversation and he still held her hand in the heat of his own.

  ‘What are you studying?’

  She stifled an inward groan at having to reveal more credentials that would make her seem extraordinarily dull to this high-flying man. ‘I have an arts-law degree,’ she told him as she disengaged her hands from his. ‘Now I’m doing my MBA, but I’m only doing one subject a semester this year.’

  ‘You have brains as well as beauty.’ He didn’t sound bored, he sounded impressed. The admiration in his regard warmed her right down to her toes. ‘Do you work as a lawyer?’

  ‘Monday to Friday I work in a legal-aid centre. It’s on the w
eekends I help out at the vineyard’s resort.’ Well, she did as much as she could while preparing for this high-profile case.

  ‘A busy lady. Is there no special man in your life with whom you spend your free time?’

  His interest made her feel as though the champagne she drank was absorbed directly into her bloodstream, because there were effervescent bubbles of awareness in her veins. ‘My father’s pretty special.’ She smiled. ‘He’s a scintillating conversationalist and a brilliant chess opponent.’

  ‘You’re far too exquisite to stay at home studying and playing chess with your father.’

  Heat suffused her neck and face. A very large part of her was tempted to try to flirt back with him, but survival instincts warned her he was out of her league. He had a stunning Mediterranean swarthiness, and the knockout combination of dark hair and vivid green eyes was guaranteed to increase any woman’s pulse rate.

  Then there was his spectacular bone structure—the strong jaw and high cheekbones were a masterpiece of sculpture. Yet even a master sculptor would never be able to create a piece to capture the essence of Prince Marco. More intense than his physical appeal, Marco radiated command and sexual confidence that made him even more attractive.

  Even though her common sense told her to flee, Chloe found she wanted to stay here, getting a little closer to the warmth of the fire flaming between them.

  ‘You’re also far too beautiful and far too interesting for me to allow you to leave this party.’

  ‘Well... um... Thank you.’ The bodice on her dress must be shrinking for it became even more of an effort to breathe.

  Marco clearly listed mind-reading as one of his talents because his eyes skimmed to her chest and the intensity of his gaze grew hotter.

  Anxious for a distraction, she reached for her champagne flute. She intended to take a sip and try to focus on making conversation instead of wondering how good he’d look naked.

  Marco naked.

  Instead of sipping the champagne, she guzzled the next mouthful of golden liquid then tried not to splutter. Oh Lord. She prayed fervently he wouldn’t intercept those thoughts. ‘How do you come to be here, Marco?’

  ‘Business,’ he answered immediately. ‘But I’m hopeful I’ll convince you to stay so I can mix business with pleasure.’ There was no mistaking the intent in his eyes.

  The mask of sophistication she’d been trying to assume slipped as her mouth opened. ‘I—’

  ‘I find myself compelled to make love to you.’

  Chloe gulped. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously,’ he repeated in his deep, bedroom voice.

  ‘I don’t... I don’t believe you said that.’

  ‘Why are you so surprised?’

  Misgivings flooded through her. This man moved faster than the speed of light and was way too hot for her to handle. She needed to be honest with him before the situation spiralled as rapidly out of control as her galloping heartbeat. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t do that.’

  The disbelieving rumble of laughter working its way up from his chest drew her to him like some unseen magnetic force. ‘You don’t make love?’

  ‘No,’ she blurted. Oh Lord. For a split second, she saw the astonishment in his eyes, before a small furrow of contemplation appeared between his brows. ‘Well, I’ve had boyfriends but...’ Shit. What the hell was she doing explaining herself to him? Could she really make this any more awkward if she tried? But he regarded her as though she’d grown two heads and she felt she needed to justify herself. ‘I’ve had two steady boyfriends. I don’t do casual sex with someone I’ve just met.’ She was in no way like her mother and she never would be.

  ‘But I’m no boy, cara, and our lovemaking won’t be casual. It will be passionate, intense and utterly mind-blowing.’

  She had to take a deep breath to rein in her thoughts and visual images. If her cheeks burned any hotter, there’d be an envoy from the North Pole arriving any second now to ask her to guide Santa’s sleigh next Christmas.

  ‘Have you enjoyed making love, Chloe?’

  How was it she was discussing such a very private topic in the midst of so many noisy conversations going on around them? ‘I’m quite normal,’ she responded defensively. ‘Of course I find lovemaking pleasant.’

  ‘Pleasant?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘Why would you settle for pleasant, mia bellezza, when everything in you knows that with me it will be earth-shattering?’

  Oh, gosh. ‘Let’s not have this conversation.’ Too late, she remembered she’d lost all her stomach contents on the flight coming over, had scarcely eaten all day and the champagne had surely gone straight to her head. ‘I really have to leave. Now.’

  Again his hand arrested her movement. ‘Be brave, cara. Don’t run away when you want so badly to stay. I won’t hurt you.’

  Chloe felt her resolve weakening. The guy was definitely a mind-reader or he could sense that part of her was looking for a reason to take a leap from her usual cautious stance and discover whether his bold words were a confident promise rather than an idle boast.

  She couldn’t stop the nervous laughter from tickling up her throat and out through her lips. ‘I’ve never been tempted to make love with a stranger.’

  ‘Until now.’ He reached out and trailed the tip of his forefinger down her cheek. The light touch lit an instant flame along a fuse that sparked to life and burned from her cheek all the way down to her most feminine recess.

  Dear God. How could she deny it?

  ‘Until now.’ A long, low groan of mortification escaped from her lips. ‘I wish I hadn’t admitted it.’ Wishing she could control her innate sense of honesty, she glared at the champagne flute and tapped the glass with one fingernail. ‘What are the French putting in their champagne these days? Truth serum?’

  A slight frown of puzzlement accompanied his laughter. ‘I really like you, Chloe Salvatore.’

  Uh-oh. The alarm bells ringing in her head drowned out the music from the string quartet. This was not going to happen. She was not going to have a sexual fling—especially with the very guy her mother had tried to push her toward.

  As she opened her mouth to say goodnight and announce she was leaving, he shook his head slightly and added, ‘I like you a lot.’

  Instead of moving away, she tilted her head quizzically to look at him more intently. ‘You sound surprised. Am I right in thinking you don’t often tell a woman you like her?’

  ‘Si.’ The small twist of his lips was self-derisory. ‘I can’t remember the last time I met such a forthright, fascinating woman at a party.’

  ‘You’re obviously going to the wrong parties.’

  ‘I’ve definitely been meeting the wrong women. Something tells me you’re very special, Chloe.’

  ‘Ha.’ She smiled and wagged a finger at him in admonishment. ‘You’re quite the practised flirt, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m a man who knows what he wants.’ He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her right ear.

  Who knew the skin behind her ear was so exquisitely sensitive? Again, she fought the urge to lean into him.

  ‘I want you, Chloe.’

  This was really happening. The sexiest man she’d ever met was telling her he wanted to make love to her. The light sparkling through the crystal chandeliers somehow seemed brighter, the colours in the room more vivid, but she believed it was the sexual chemistry fizzing between them, and not an excess of champagne on an empty stomach, that caused the fascinating effect.

  ‘What’s to think about, Chloe? I want you. You want me. It’s simple.’ He trailed his fingertips along the line of her jaw and she found she wanted to turn her face and press against the palm of his hand.

  ‘But—’

  ‘From what you’ve said, you’re not in a relationship with anyone.’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Not for a couple of years.

  ‘I’m also unattached.’ His hand smoothed down the side of her neck and around under the curtain of her hair at the nape o
f her neck. ‘I’m proposing a passionate interlude before you return to the States. Nothing complicated. I don’t do relationships.’

  Why didn’t that surprise her?

  This is one more reason you need to walk away now. You know he’s so far removed from the guys you’ve dated it’s ridiculous.

  Prince Marco of Ralvinia was from her mother’s shallow, sophisticated world where casual sex was a given. That wasn’t who Chloe was. She’d always craved a simple, solid life. Both her boyfriends had been regular, steady guys. A stable future in a quiet neighbourhood with a devoted family man was her ideal.

  But those are your long-term needs. What about your needs here and now? There’s no denying you’re incredibly attracted to this guy and it could be an exciting one-off.

  For a few seconds she couldn’t think of a single thing to say as she stood utterly still and wrestled with her conscience, trying to understand how she could even be tempted in this situation.

  Six feet something of commanding, incredibly handsome male is why you’re tempted.

  Before Chloe left Napa, a colleague had urged her to abandon her principles and have six weeks of sizzling sex to launch her back onto the singles’ scene.

  Never had Chloe expected she’d meet a stunning man who offered just that. Well, clearly Marco wasn’t offering six weeks of sizzling sex. Maybe he wasn’t even offering six hours of sizzling sex. But there was no question that sex with the Ralvinian prince would sizzle.

  ‘What do you say, Chloe? I promise you won’t be disappointed.’

  It was all she could do to process his words. There was no hint of arrogance in his regard, simply utter confidence in his own ability to satisfy her. Chloe’s pulse rate kicked up. His silken promises wove around her, pulling her closer to complete capitulation. The force of his sheer willpower was so overpowering it almost rendered her helpless to do anything but bend to his desire. The truth was, she wouldn’t only be bending to his desire if she agreed to his suggestion, she’d be indulging her own.

  ‘I don’t believe you’re the sort of man to tolerate anything remotely resembling failure in any aspect of your life.’