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Marco...Marco...How could this have happened to her? How could she have avoided falling in love with him? What was he doing right now? Who was he with? His grandfather? His family? She mustn't do this to herself. Emily warned herself tiredly. It served no purpose, other than to reinforce what she already knew, and that was that she loved a man who did not love her. She reached for her coat. She might as well go home.
‘What is this I hear about you returning to London? I will not allow you to leave Niroli to go to London. What possible reason could you have for wanting to be there?'
Marco had to struggle to stop himself from responding in kind to his grandfathers angry interrogation.
‘You know why I need to return. I have certain business matters to attend to there.’ he answered suavely instead.
‘I do not permit it.’
‘No? That is your choice. Grandfather, but I still intend to go. You see. I do not need your permission.’
Obstinately they eyed each other, two alpha males who knew that, according to the law of the jungle, only one of them could truly hold the reins of power. Marco had no intention of allowing his grandfather to dominate him. He knew well enough that once he let him have the upper hand, the king would treat him with contempt. Giorgio was the kind of man who would rather die with his sword in his hand, so to speak, than allow a younger rival to take it from him.
The truth was that Marco could have dealt with the business that was taking him to the UK from the island, and that, in part, his decision to go to London in spite of his grandfathers objections had been made publicly to underline his own determination and status. It was more than two weeks since he had first arrived on Niroli and there hadn't been a single day when he and his grandfather hadn't clashed like two Titans. Every attempt he had made to talk to Giorgio about doing something to help the poorer inhabitants of the island had been met with a furious tirade about what a waste of money this would be and a threat to royal rule.
Marco was determined that electricity should be made available to those living in the more remote villages, and his grandfather was equally adamant that he was not prepared to sanction it.
‘Very well then. I shall pay for it myself.’ Marco had told him grimly. But the reality was that things were not as simple as that: the topography of the mountain region meant that they would need to bring in expert outside help, and it was of course Vialli country.
Marco suspected that King Giorgio was being difficult for the sake of being difficult, more than anything else. He could also admit to himself that his years in London running his own life and not having to worry about consulting anyone about his decisions was now making it very difficult for him to conform to the role of king-in-waiting. He was very much the junior partner in this new relationship. He started to walk away.
'Marco, I trust that this visit of yours to London does not have anything to do with that woman you were bedding?'
Marco swung round and looked at his grandfather, his voice flattened by the weight of his fury as he demanded. ‘And if it does?'
‘Then I forbid you to see her’ his grandfather told him fiercely. The future King of Niroli does not bed some commoner—a divorcee, with no pedigree and no money.’
‘No one tells me who I can and cannot take to my bed. Grandfather, not even you.’
Marco didn't wait to hear what the older man might say in reply. Instead he strode out of the room, fighting to dampen down the heat of the fury burning along his veins. The bright sunshine that had warmed the air earlier that day was turning to vivid dusk as he left the palace. He had refused the offer of a suite of rooms within its walls, preferring instead to stay in the nearby villa he had inherited from his parents. His grandfather hadn't been too pleased about that, but Marco had refused to give in. It was very important to him that he retained his privacy and independence.
However, right now it wasn't the villa he was heading for as he climbed into his personal car. He was bound for the airport, and a flight to London, despite his grandfathers opposition. How dared Giorgio attempt to tell him that he couldn't sleep with Emily? He glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his car. It would be early evening in London, just after six o'clock. Emily would most probably have left her shop and be on her way home.
Emily! It hadn't needed his grandfathers mention of her to bring her into his thoughts. Indeed, it had surprised and disconcerted him to discover just how much she had been there since they had parted. It was only because he was discovering that he wasn't enjoying sleeping alone, he assured himself. The fact that Emily was so constantly in his thoughts was simply his mind playing tricks and had no personal relevance for him.
