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They both swung around to see Marco coming over. It broke the tension for a while as Luca greeted Marco, but once the two men were done with complicated handshakes and Marco moved on, the two of them were alone again. ‘I thought you’d have gone in search of nuts by now,’ Luca remarked dryly.
/> ‘I was waiting to say goodbye to you.’
‘Ah.’
Was he convinced, Callie wondered, or had he guessed that she was trapped like a rabbit in headlights by his brazen masculinity?
‘So why are you here, mystery woman? You’re staying at a five-star hotel, but work in the fields picking lemons?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she challenged.
‘Nothing.’
‘Well, now we’ve got that sorted out, I’ll say goodnight.’ To give him his due, there was no more questions. Luca shrugged and stood aside to let her go, but as she passed he reached out to smooth a lock of hair from her face. His touch thrilled her. Her skin tingled, and her nipples tightened, while tiny pulses of sensation beat low down in her belly.
‘Stay,’ he insisted. ‘You’ll have more fun.’
That was what she was afraid of. ‘Should I be flattered by your suggestion?’ she asked coolly, searching his eyes.
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘You should be on your guard.’
She made a point of glancing around. ‘Are there many predatory men at this party?’
‘None that stand a chance of getting close to you.’
‘Will you keep them away? I would have thought you had better things to do.’
‘And I thought you were leaving,’ he countered.
‘I am.’
He could hardly believe it when she walked away. This wasn’t a woman he could tease into his bed, but a woman to be reckoned with. Good. He needed a challenge. There was only one woman who could hold his interest tonight. He could hardly believe the transformation from butterfly at the bar, to working girl in the lemon groves. It was a good mix. That stubborn chin clinched it for him. He was done with insipid. She had a great walk too. He feasted his eyes as she walked away from him with her head held high and her shapely butt swaying provocatively beneath the simple clothes. She hadn’t a clue who he was. He doubted it would have made any difference. Status meant nothing to Callie, as proved by her easy transition from luxury living in the five-star hotel, to some of the hardest physical work in the area.
The sun had been kind to her today. Flushed from physical activity, she looked good enough to eat, something he’d put on hold until later in the evening, he reflected dryly. He watched as she met up with her friends. She was more relaxed than she’d been at the hotel. Laughing easily, she mimed words when the different languages spoken became a problem. Nothing seemed to faze her. Apart from him.
She was comfortable around everyone, as he was, and far more beautiful than he remembered. Young and natural—even the smear of dirt on her neck only made him think about licking it off. It was time he stopped thinking about Callie naked in his arms, or he’d be walking around the party uncomfortably aroused.
And, before he committed himself to taking her to bed, there were questions to be answered. Why was she picking fruit for a few euros a day when she was staying at a five-star hotel? Was it just for the experience? Who was funding her? Why was she in Italy? Was this a holiday or an escape? If she was escaping, from what? He had no intention of allowing Max to lure him into a honey trap that could discredit Luca, and expose the principality of Fabrizio to corruption beneath his half-brother’s rule. It was time to find out more.
As he approached Callie her friends melted away. ‘Where are they going?’ she asked with surprise.
They were diplomatically giving him space. Callie couldn’t help but be oblivious to the dynamics that existed between a prince and his people. However much he would have liked it to be different, obstacles between him and Utopia were not in his gift to remove.
‘Anyone would think you’d got the plague,’ she said, bringing a comic slant to bear on the situation.
‘Let’s hope it’s not that serious,’ he said, loving the way she could pop the pomposity bubble before it even had chance to form. She had raw, physical appeal, he mused as she stared up at him. It was all too easy to imagine her limbs wrapped around him as she sobbed with pleasure in his arms. ‘Dance?’ he suggested, curbing baser needs.
‘Not if I can help it,’ she exclaimed.
The response was pure Callie. ‘Why not?’ he demanded, play-acting wounded.
‘Because I have two left feet and the sense of rhythm of a hamster on a wheel.’
He shrugged. ‘Should be interesting. I’m a fast mover myself.’
She raised a disapproving brow, but her eyes betrayed her interest.
‘Perhaps I can slow you down?’ he suggested. ‘Show you an alternative to racing to the finish?’
