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“Nico.” She touched his shoulder and his muscles stiffened under her fingers. “Nico, it must have been—it must have been terrible for you, loving her and losing her. But—”
Nicolo shrugged. “It was an experience from which I learned something important.”
Caroline hesitated. Instinct told her not to ask the question, but her heart demanded an answer.
“What?”
“That I chose unwisely.” His eyes met hers, and she was stung by the cool practicality in those blue depths. “I made a mistake in asking a woman like Arianna to change her ways for me. Believe me, Caroline, it is not a mistake I will ever make again.”
His words sent her heart plummeting.
“I can see that you’d feel that way,” she said softly. “But—”
“Good.” His tone was sharp, almost curt; he tried to soften it with a smile. “Then, we have nothing more to discuss. Come. We have dinner reservations at Romolo’s, but first I must show you the sunset.”
She stared at him. Then, slowly, she forced a smile to her lips.
“That sounds lovely.”
By the time they’d stowed everything in the boot of the Ferrari and driven to a hilltop where, Nicolo said, they would have the best view, the sun was a fiery ball low on the hills. Caroline held her breath as they stood in the silence, watching as it began its final plunge, and, at just the moment it painted the world crimson, Nicolo put his hands on her shoulders.
“Caroline,” he said softly. “I have something to ask you.”
Her heart did a foolish leap, despite the conversation they’d had moments before. Perhaps the old gods had been listening, when she’d made her wish at the Trevi Fountain.
She felt her lips tremble as she smiled at him.
“What is it, Nicolo?”
“I have been thinking…”
“Yes?” Her heart was pounding harder and harder, as if it were getting ready to leap out of her breast.
He cleared his throat. “I know how you feel about these things, Caroline. You have told me often enough.”
She stared at him, puzzled. “What things?”
“The things we discussed when I first brought you to the palazzo.” He frowned. “And—the things we discussed the other night.”
“I still don’t—”
“Cristo!” His voice was harsh, edged with impatience. “Must I spell them out? You spoke of your feelings about men, about your career.” He glared at her, as if it were her fault she couldn’t remember. “Surely, you recall your own sentiments.”
She did, in bits and pieces. She’d told him she didn’t need a man in her life, that she had no wish for a home and family, that her career was all-important. But none of it was true—she’d only said it to cover her own growing confusion, a confusion she now realized had come out of what she’d begun to feel for him.
“Yes,” she said, “I remember. But—”
“But still, you have a woman’s needs. Yes. I told you that you did, even though you refused to admit it then.” He smiled, and the lack of warmth in the smile chilled her. “I’ve given much thought to what you meant when you said those things—to what you really want, and—”
“What I meant? What I want? I don’t understand, Nicolo.”
“It is quite simple.” The darkness was almost complete now; she could only see the faintest outline of his features, enough to know that they’d taken on a hard, determined cast. “You will stay in Roma.”
Her breath caught. “Wait a minute. Let me tell you what I—”
“Not at the palazzo, of course.” He frowned. “That would be difficult for us all. I will find you an apartment—something old and handsome, that you will like.”
“Nicolo, please. I’ve thought about this, too, and—”
“And a studio.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Or a shop. Whichever you prefer. I don’t know if there are places in Rome where you can study design. If there are, naturally I will pay for your courses.”
Oh, God. God! He was asking her to be his mistress. This was what he’d wanted of her all the time; now, he was finally getting to it, baiting the trap not with jewels or furs but with what he assumed would matter to her.
“Otherwise, I will use my influence to find you an apprenticeship at one of the better fashion establishments.” He smiled tightly. “Anna spends enough money at such places. Surely I can find one of them that would be willing to—”
“To—to help you along.”
“Exactly.”
Caroline took a deep breath. “Let me be sure I understand,” she said softly. “You’ll set me up in my own apartment—”
“Yes.”
“Buy me a career—”
His jaw shot forward. “Why do you make it sound so—”
“So what? Cheap? Tawdry?” A smile trembled on her lips. “You’re right, Nicolo. It won’t be cheap at all. Just tally up the costs. An apartment. A studio. An apprenticeship. Oh, and I’ll need spending money, too, of course. And clothes.”
“Caroline. Listen to me—”
“No.” She slapped his hands from her shoulders. “You listen. You can just forget it.”
“What do you mean, forget it?”
“Can it. Stow it. Put it in your hat.” She took a breath. “I mean no, I am not interested. That’s not an American idiom. Don’t pretend you don’t understand it.”
She swung away from him and started to the car. When she was halfway there, he caught up to her and spun her around to face him.
“You’re being ridiculous! How can you say no to my proposal without even discussing it?”
“It’s not a proposal,” she said angrily. “It’s—it’s an attempt to buy me.”
His fingers bit into her flesh. “I told you once, cara, I have never paid for a woman.”
“It’s a classier offer than the ones I’m accustomed to getting.” Her head lifted sharply. “Hell, no one’s ever offered me a career before.”
“The career you long for, Caroline. Yes?”
“Yes,” she lied, “that’s right. I do long for it. But on my own terms, and by my own e
fforts.” She threw out her hands. “You just don’t understand—but then, why would you? You come from a world in which you make all the rules.”
“Is that what you think?” He moved closer to her. Anger glittered coldly in his eyes. “You think I make the rules, eh? What of you? What rules do you make, cara? None that a sane man can comprehend.”
“Just because you can’t—”
“It is beyond me to understand why you would turn down what I offer when it’s what you want.” His arms swept around her rigid body. “You know you want me, Caroline. It does no good to pretend otherwise. I held you in my arms last night. I heard you cry out, I felt you tremble with need…”
“That was just sex,” she said, the lie cold as winter ice on her tongue. “You were right about one thing, Prince Sabatini. I do have needs—and last night what I did was satisfy them.”
In the last waning glow of daylight, she saw Nicolo’s face tauten with fury as he teetered on the knife-edge of control. It took all her determination to stand her ground until finally he brushed past her.
“It’s late,” he snapped. “I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. You will understand if I suggest we forget dinner and go straight home.”
“And you’ll understand if I leave Rome tomorrow morning.” She stepped into the car and he slammed the door after her. “Just as soon as I can get a flight to New York.”
“I will make the arrangements.” He turned on the engine, slammed the car into gear, and shot her a sharklike smile. “I trust you’ll have no objections if I use whatever influence I have with the airlines to get you the first available seat?”
Tears rose in Caroline’s eyes and she turned her head blindly to the window.
“I’d be happy if you would.”
Nicolo nodded. “Fine.” His hands clamped down tightly on the steering wheel. “By this time tomorrow, your visit to Roma will be history. This is the correct idiom, Caroline, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she whispered. She put her head back and closed her eyes. “Oh, yes, Your Highness, that’s exactly the correct idiom.”
It was the last either of them spoke as the Ferrari raced through the night.
