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Her eyes flew open, and her cheeks blazed. Nicolo was standing beside her, his face very still.
“What do you dream of,” he said softly, “that brings such a flush to your face?”
“I—I wasn’t dreaming. I was just…”
She couldn’t speak, not with him looking at her that way. Where had he come from? How long had he been standing there? Her gaze flew over him, taking in the deep, deep blue eyes, the faint smile on the sensual mouth, the dark hair that curled lightly over his collar. He had taken his jacket off; it trailed over one shoulder, held in the hook of one finger. His sleeves were rolled back to reveal golden, muscular forearms, the first two buttons of his shirt were undone so that she could see the strong, tanned column of his throat, the hollow where his pulse beat, the start of the strong, hard planes of his chest.
Caroline sat up quickly and put her hands to her cheeks. “It’s—it’s impossibly warm today,” she said with a little laugh. “Anna warned me about sitting out in the sun, but…” She cleared her throat and looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned as he tossed his jacket onto a chair. “I live here, cara. Or have you managed to put that unpleasant thought out of your mind?”
Caroline got to her feet. “You said you’d be gone a week, perhaps longer.”
“And now here I am.” He made a mocking little bow. “Forgive me. I finished my business sooner than I expected.”
Her brows lifted. “Really,” she said coolly. “What’s the matter? Wasn’t the weather good on the Riviera?”
He gave her a long look, and then he laughed. “How perceptive of you, cara. It wasn’t, no. Two days of rain spoiled all my plans.”
She nodded. “I’d imagine it would.” There was a moment’s silence. “Well,” she said, briskly, “Anna’s going to be very happy to see you. She was just saying that—”
“Actually,” he said softly, “I was glad to come home early.”
“To see Anna?”
He smiled in a way that made her heart stop beating. “To put our little wager to the test.”
“What wager? I don’t…”
Their eyes met, and Caroline flushed. “We didn’t make a wager,” she said quickly.
Nicolo laughed softly. “Perhaps we should have. Let me see. What stakes would be interesting?”
The silence, and the heat, seemed suddenly almost oppressive. Nicolo’s eyes dropped to her blouse, and suddenly she was aware of the half-opened neckline. Quickly, fingers trembling, she closed the buttons.
“Dammit,” she whispered, “you promised! You said—”
He caught her arm and drew her back under the cypresses. “I know what I said. Santa Maria, we both said a lot of things.” His hand slid up her arm and he stepped closer to her. “Now,” he said, very softly, “I think, perhaps, it is time to say other things.”
Caroline shook her head. “There’s nothing left to say, Nicolo.”
He smiled. “I think there is, cara,” he whispered.
He bent and kissed her, and the world shifted out from under her feet. How could she have remembered the taste of his mouth? He had only kissed her a few times before, yet his taste was as familiar as the beat of his heart beneath her hand as she clutched his shirt.
Was she clutching his shirt? She was. She was holding on for dear life, leaning into him, lifting on tiptoe so that he could gather her close, hold her tightly in his arms, while his tongue slipped into her mouth, while his hand swept up her ribs and lightly cupped her breast…
Caroline slammed her hands against his chest and thrust herself free of his embrace.
“You—you bastard!” she hissed.
“Cara, listen to me…”
“No!” She stepped backward and shook her head. “No, Nicolo, you listen to me for a change. I—I’m not proud of what just happened.”
“Caroline, please—”
“It—it disgusts me to think that I’d let you kiss me that way.”
Darkness filled his eyes. “Disgusts you?” he said slowly.
No, she thought. That was the wrong word. It—it frightened her. It terrified her, that she could so lose control in the arms of this man who was everything she despised, who despised her, who wanted her for what he thought she was.
His hands tightened on her. “My kiss disgusts you?”
Her eyes flew to his. What could she say that would make sense? What could she say that would not reveal her vulnerability, a vulnerability that she, herself, could not explain?
Nicolo’s nostrils flared. “I see.” His hand fell away from her. “In that case—”
“Nico?” Nicolo and Caroline spun around. Anna Sabatini was rising from her chair, her face beaming with pleasure. “Nico, caro, you’re home!”
Nicolo’s face underwent a transformation. “Nonna.” He stepped forward, bent, and embraced the old woman lovingly. Then he eased her back onto the chaise longue and gave her a stern look. “Have you behaved yourself while I was away?”
Anna made a face. “I’ve been a perfect angel. Caroline will tell you. I have done nothing but sleep too much, eat too much, and sit in the sun and bake!” She smiled. “The doctor says I’m fine. He says you can stop treating me like an invalid.”
“I know. I spoke with him this morning.”
“Well, then, we must celebrate!” Anna reached out her hands, one to Caroline, one to Nicolo. “You must shower and change, Nico, and then—what shall we do?”
He smiled. “Whatever you like.”
“Really?” The Princess’s pale eyes gleamed. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course” He looked at Caroline. “Caroline and I are yours to command.”
Anna looked at Caroline. “Do you agree?”
Caroline smiled. “Of course.”
“In that case…I think first, the view of the city from the Pincio. Or perhaps a visit to the Fontana di Trevi.” Anna made a face. “Soon, it will be impossible to see, because of the tourists, but, for now, the city still belongs to us Romans.”
Nicolo nodded thoughtfully. “If the weather is cooler later in the week, perhaps, we can do one or the other. I shall have your driver bring your car around and—”
“Then the Forum. And the Colosseum. Oh, and the Baths of Caracalla.”
A slow smile eased
across his mouth. “Ah, I see. You have a week’s journey in mind, yes?”
“And we must not forget the Pantheon. And the Vatican Museums, of course.”
Nicolo laughed. “Of course.”
“It will be late by then, a good time for Campari and soda at some out-of-the-way café.” She pursed her lips. “As for dinner…what do you think, Nico? Is that restaurant still near the Spanish Steps, the one that serves that superb vongole veritas? Or do you think Caroline would prefer somewhere more intimate?”
“Not one week’s journey.” Nicolo grinned. “This is a two-week plan.”
“And finally, a stroll around our very own plazza, to see the fountains by moonlight.” She looked up at Caroline. “How does that sound, dear? You would like to see all that, wouldn’t you?”
Caroline smiled. “Don’t you think you should begin with a lighter schedule?”
La Principessa drew back in mock horror. “I? You think I want to go to all those places?” She shuddered. “Not at my age.” A sly smile curved across her lips. “But you—and Nico—will have a wonderful time.”
Caroline’s smile vanished. She looked quickly at Nicolo and saw that his smile had fled, too. He was watching her with that same intensity she’d seen in his face before, the one that made his eyes seem like dark sapphires.
“No,” she said without thinking, “no. I don’t want to go with…” Her words faded to silence. She saw Nicolo’s jaw tighten. “I mean, who would stay with you, Anna?”
“Caroline is right, Nonna.” Nicolo’s voice was flat and chill. “If she wishes to play at being a tourist, I will arrange for a guide for her.”
Anna looked from one to the other and shook her head. “Such nonsense! I do not need you to stay with me, Caroline. You yourself pointed out that the palazzo is filled with people. And Nicolo. Surely a guide would be helpful, but only if you are at Caroline’s side, as well. Who else could tell her as much about our beloved Roma?”
“I have just stepped off the plane, Nonna. What I want most just now is a long shower and—”
“But of course, Nico! You must shower while Caroline changes to something cool. A sundress, perhaps. Oh, and low-heeled sandals, if you have them. Do you, dear?”
