The Royal House of Niroli: Billion Dollar Bargains: Bought by the Billionaire Prince / The Tycoon's Princess Bride
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‘Luca—I am not a thief,’ Meg broke in. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I want is a lawyer, someone to ring the embassy so that this mess can be sorted. I’ve never stolen a single thing in my life.’
It was like rewinding his life—watching the woman he adored furiously denying what he had witnessed—only this time he wouldn’t back down. He was a man now—not a confused child. He was a royal prince and he would not be lied to, would not just choose to believe her because it was easier to.
‘Don’t lie to me!’ His words were a roar, his six-foot-two frame jumping from the bed and towering over her. She was so convincing, so utterly, utterly convincing that if he hadn’t seen the evidence himself, he’d have believed her—wanted to believe her—wanted to be taken in by this vixen’s lies.
‘I will not be lied to,’ Luca repeated, but more calmly this time, speaking to her now as he would any of his staff that had overstepped the mark and needed to be pulled swiftly back into line. ‘I am here to try to help you, but how can I do that when still you lie to me? I saw it with my own eyes, Meg. I saw you taking the jewels from the display—they were found in your backpack, wrapped in the top you were wearing last night.’ On and on he went, each word damning her, each word confusing her further, because he clearly believed them, and all Meg knew was that it was imperative that Luca believe in her.
‘I don’t know what you saw or what you’ve been told, but you’re mistaken.’ She stared right at him as she spoke. ‘If you can’t or won’t believe me, then can you please just call a lawyer or the embassy for me in the morning?’
‘It’s Saturday tomorrow,’ Luca pointed out, ‘and it is a long weekend for the Feast—there can be no officials contacted till Tuesday, perhaps even Wednesday.’
‘Then can you please try and get hold of my brother for me …?’ Meg gulped back tears, her voice wobbling with fear as she realised that this nightmare wasn’t anywhere near over and, though she was loath to ask Luca for any assistance, it was infinitely preferable to staying here. ‘His name’s Alex Hunter. He was working at the hospital—’
‘Alessandro Fierezza is on his honeymoon,’ Luca interrupted, ‘on his way back to Australia. Alessandro is not going to be able to help you now.’
‘Alessandro?’ Meg gave a bewildered shake of her head. ‘I don’t know any Alessandro. I’m asking you to find my brother—’
‘My cousin,’ Luca brutally cut in, taking no pleasure as her proud face literally crumpled before his eyes, but his face remained impassive. He knew she needed him to be strong, that this fiery, independent woman wouldn’t take a grain of his sympathy. ‘Your brother is my cousin—get it? Alessandro is a royal prince—’
‘No!’ It didn’t make sense, nothing today made any sense. Alex was a doctor, her brother, the most honourable man she knew, if he’d had news this big he’d have told her himself, face to face….
He’d wanted to.
The truth, however unpalatable, was starting to sink in. Alex had said the news was huge; could this have been it? Like Meg, Alex had been adopted, only at a much younger age, so his past was vague, but he was of Italian descent and the receptionist at the hospital had used the same name Luca was using now—Alessandro Fierezza.
Burying her face in her hands, Meg struggled for control, tried to glimpse some way out of this hellish mess. Drunken, loud voices were coming from upstairs, the tiny cells starting to fill with undesirables, and she was trapped here till God knew when….
‘I can sort this mess out for you, Meg.’
‘How?’ Peeling down her fingers, Meg stared up at him.
‘I just can….’ Luca’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, unsure how Meg would react to what he had done, but somehow guessing she wouldn’t take it particularly well. ‘I can make this go away.’
‘You mean you’ll bribe someone!’Appalled, Meg shook her head, but Luca was insistent.
‘You are the sister of a prince—therefore you do not belong here. The family cannot afford the scandal at this time.’
‘The only scandal is that I’ve been locked up and accused of a crime I didn’t commit,’ Meg retorted. ‘I don’t need you covering my tracks, Luca. It’s your family that will suffer if I stay here.’
‘It will cause shame for your brother,’ Luca pointed out. But Meg wasn’t about to be subdued.
‘Then you clearly don’t know Alex,’ she flared back. ‘He’d tell me to fight my case. Unlike you, Alex would believe a woman who was speaking the truth.’
‘Then your brother is a fool,’ Luca retorted. ‘We both know you lie, we both know the truth. You can stay here and rot, then. I have offered assistance. I have done the right thing by Alessandro. It is not my fault if you will not accept it!’
This was getting nowhere; Luca had quickly realised that. He could hear the processing of the new prisoners taking place upstairs, knew that at any given moment he might be recognised. If Meg didn’t come with him now, he would have to leave her here to fight her case alone.
Staring down at her, defiant, wary and so very, very scared, Luca knew what he had to do, knew that she was too proud for charity, too proud to back down—so he did what he did best.
Cut her a deal—Luca style.
Let her think she had a choice, let her think she had a chance of winning.
‘Maybe there is another way,’ Luca mused out loud. ‘Last night I said I wanted to spend time with you; last night I explained I wanted the pleasure of your company….’
‘You had that today,’ Meg attempted, but Luca shook his head.
‘Forget today, Meg. Now I know how low you stoop, the offer drops. I will not bribe the guard, but I will pay your bail—I will assure him that I am taking care of you and that you will return for your hearing with suitable representation.’
‘And in return?’ For the first time since he’d arrived Luca actually smiled. ‘You mean you want me as your puttana,’ Meg spat. It was one of the few Italian words she did know—she had heard it several times since she’d been locked up, and it was one of the few words that needed little translation. He was literally offering to buy her company. ‘You’re not doing this out of some false sense of duty to Alex, you’re offering this because of how I look!’
‘Well, you don’t look very good at this moment,’ Luca retorted, ‘but I think you will scrub up very nicely. This is a good offer, Meg,’ he continued. ‘You can stay here and take your chances with the guards and your fellow prisoners, or I will pay your bail and you can come with me and stay in luxurious surrounds until Tuesday, when I will arrange full access to one of the best lawyers on the mainland.’
‘And for the privilege—I’ll have to share your bed!’
‘Of course.’ He stared down at his watch, tapped an impatient foot as he awaited her decision, and her first instinct was to slap him, to spit on his arrogant face and tell him where the hell he could put his offer, but something held her back. Realisation sank in that she was here for the duration. Her passport had already been taken, her belongings locked away. Here she had no rights, no possessions, but as the prince’s mistress she would be afforded decent legal representation—could get out of this mess through the correct channels instead of offering some sleazy bribe.
She still had a choice.
She would choose to eat at his table, choose to share his bed, but she wouldn’t share her heart…. Luca Fierezza had enough money and power to buy her company for a short while, but he would never hold her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEY DROVE IN SILENCE to the palace, Luca’s car hugging the beach road, the palace easily visible thanks to a vast moon hanging low in the sky, but despite the warm night air as she’d stepped from the prison to the custody of her new jailer, Meg had started violently shivering, so she sat now huddled in the passenger seat wearing Luca’s jacket.
‘Why aren’t we going to the casino?’
‘You will be recognised at the casino—you are on the black list. Until we can arrange for some new clothes, your hair to be done differently, you will have to stay away from there.’
‘But surely.’
‘The staff at the palace are discreet—that is why I am taking you there.’
‘Won’t they at least want to know who I am?’
‘Why would they?’ Luca shrugged and she glanced over at him, taking in his perfect profile, the sheer maleness he radiated, the absolute arrogant beauty of him, and the unpalatable truth was further affirmed. They wouldn’t ask questions because this was clearly a regular occurrence—oh, not the rescue from the jail, but clearly the palace staff were more than used to Luca arriving home at all hours with a woman in tow! ‘I will arrange a doctor to come and tend to your cut.’
‘I don’t need a doctor, and anyway,’ Meg added, ‘surely he would ask questions.’
‘Why would he? I pay for his discretion,’ Luca responded with all the arrogance of the truly rich, but he did at least concede that her arrival might cause some issues, because as the gates to a private road slid open and the car approached he momentarily stopped and, with the engine idling, he turned to face her.
‘This is what we do. I tell my family the truth—you are Alessandro’s sister, you came to the island to look him up not realising he had already left. That is why I am taking care of you.’
‘So am I here as Alex’s sister or your mistress?’ Meg quipped, but Luca, as always, had an answer.
‘Both.’ He turned and gave her a dry smile. ‘Just remember, though, your first duty is to me.’
‘And the cut?’ Meg snapped. ‘Did that come in the line of duty?’
‘Jet-skiing.’ Luca gave a rare smile—clearly happy with his fabrication. ‘You had an accident jet-skiing today when you were exploring. You were hoping your brother would be able to patch you up.’
‘That’s not the truth,’ Meg pointed out.
‘Oh, but from now on it is.’ Black eyes bore into hers. ‘You really don’t expect me to tell them you were attempting to steal the Niroli jewels, do you?’
‘No, because that isn’t the truth, either.’
He didn’t respond, just pulled off the handbrake and drove along the stretch of road towards the palace, orange groves flanking their progress. Despite the vile day, despite an exhausted mind that just wanted to switch from all that was happening, Meg couldn’t help but be impressed at the sheer splendour of the building she’d till now only glimpsed from a distance. A huge fourteenth-century castle, it stood proud on the edge of the ocean as if carved out of the rocks itself, and Meg could scarcely believe that this was where she would be calling home for the next few days.
Even before the car had slid to a halt, despite the lateness of the hour the door was opened by waiting staff, but Luca barely greeted them, just exchanging a few words with a burly, suited gentleman before taking a stunned and shivering Meg by the arm and leading her to a side entrance, which Meg soon realised was the access to the palace’s private apartments.
‘That was my bodyguard, Luigi,’ Luca needlessly explained his earlier conversation. ‘He is annoyed that again I did not tell him I was leaving the casino. I will speak with him in the morning—if you need to leave the palace for any reason, he is to drive and accompany you.’
‘I don’t need an escort,’ Meg responded tightly.
‘Perhaps not,’ Luca answered as he pushed open the door to his apartment, ‘but since I signed your bail papers you are my responsibility. I want to be sure I know where you are—and, more importantly, that you will return.’
She was too tired to be indignant or even attempt a smart retort. She stepped inside Luca’s luxurious apartment. Someone on the gate must have alerted the staff, because even though it was only a matter of minutes since the car had entered the palace grounds there was a fire taking hold in the magnificent marble fireplace and the lights were all on. A large whisky had been poured and set on an occasional table, which Luca downed in one gulp while Meg still stood at the doorway taking in her surrounds. Lavishly furnished, the apartment had been exquisitely refurbished—somehow managing to combine the fourteenth-century décor with all the luxuries of the twenty-first century. Vast high walls were broken by voile curtains that swept the shuttered windows, a papal purple carpet runner softened the cool Italian marble floor. The apartment was a virtual treasure trove of antiques and under any other circumstances Meg would have been thrilled to explore, but all she could do was stand and shiver, overwhelmed with fatigue, and Luca, for the first time since the prison, was gently perceptive, guiding her limp body across to the warmth of the fire.
‘Even in summer the castle is cool at night,’ Luca explained, but there was a worried edge to his voice, his hand running over her forehead as if she were a child and he were checking her temperature, ‘The doctor will be here soon.’
‘You’ve called him?’ Meg frowned, worried that she couldn’t remember, but Luca shook his head. ‘I told Luigi to take care of it.’
There was clearly no trouble arranging a rapid house call when you were Niroli royalty, and the doctor arrived shortly afterwards. Any worries Meg might have had about explaining her injuries were quashed when Luca did what little talking was required.
‘You need two stitches on your …’ Luca tapped his own eyebrow by explanation, then gave a small wince as the doctor said something else to him. ‘He says he can give you an injection to make it numb before he stitches you, but that will hurt as much as if he just goes ahead and puts in the stitches without it.’
‘No injections!’
‘Il donatore il suo anestetico locale’ Luca fired at the doctor in rapid Italian. Too quick for Meg to grasp. ‘What did you say?’ Meg asked as the doctor nodded.
‘I said that he was to numb it first for you.’ ‘Well, that’s not what I want. Can you please tell him to just go ahead and do the stitches?’ Meg countered. ‘But it will hurt.’
‘So will the anaesthetic,’ Meg pointed out, ‘and next time you decide to act as a translator for me, please, allow me to answer for myself!’ As Luca opened his mouth to argue, Meg got there first. ‘What is he saying now?’
‘That he will use the finest silk, and that with make-up the cut will not show. After he has tended your wound you are to bathe and sleep.’ He checked his understanding of the order of events with the doctor, who was setting up his tools, then elaborated. ‘You are to bathe, have a light supper and then sleep—he will come and check on you again some time over the weekend. I’ll have the housekeeper run you a bath.’
‘I’d prefer a shower.’ Meg screwed her eyes closed as the doctor poured out antiseptic and proceeded to clean her wound.
‘Would you?’ Luca snapped. ‘Or are you just determined to contradict everything I say?’
‘Yes to both,’ Meg answered cheekily. As Luca let out a hiss of indignation, she caught his eyes and gave him a tiny glimmer of a smile, which, after a beat of hesitation, he reluctantly reciprocated. ‘Let’s just get this over with.’
The stitches hurt, though not that much, and Meg bit hard on her lip as the needle went in and out. When Luca reached for her hand to comfort her, she pulled it back, preferring to see this through by herself.
‘You are very brave,’ Luca commented once the doctor had gone and finally they were alone. ‘Not many people would sit there so still. In fact.’ His voice trailed off—the only other person he could think of who would react as Meg had, who would barely offer a reaction as their wounds were tended, was his mother.
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