Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) (17 page)

And when Mia turned and saw Vittorio standing there, her face lit up and his chest swelled with an emotion he didn’t want to name. It would do no good to put a name to it. It could never be spoken.

He realized he was still frozen in place and forced his legs to start moving. But instead of heading toward the garden, toward Mia and the children clutching her hands, he nodded at her and turned back to the palace. Back to his responsibilities.

During these last few weeks with Mia, it had been easy to forget about his duty to Mezzano, to the people who depended on him. Thoughts of the willful beauty distracted him, just as his father had predicted they would. Mia occupied more of his thoughts than they should have. He was going to be king. He couldn’t get his thoughts and emotions tangled up with a woman who could never be his queen.

But as soon as he walked into his rooms that evening, her scent wound around him and he wanted nothing more than Mia. Her slender arms around him. Her sweet voice soothing him. His life had become so much more complicated since his father’s illness. But with Mia here with him, he seemed to have found a balance in his life. These few hours out of time, away from the burden of duty, made the hours weighed down by responsibilities that much easier to bear.

But all that would change now.

He shrugged out of his suit jacket, wishing he had never taken that last phone call.

“Mia?”

“In here.”

Her voice came from the bedroom. He strode across the sitting room. His hunger for her made the room seem suddenly way too wide. She stepped out of the bathroom as he entered the bedroom. He nearly swallowed his tongue.

Mia was naked except for the string of diamonds he’d given her sparkling around her neck and settling between her breasts. He never tired of the sight of her slender body and pale skin, of her pert breasts, rosy nipples and tight curls that hid the treasures between her legs. His body reacted as it always did. He was hard for her in an instant. His palms itched. His mouth watered. His heart swelled.

“Finally,” she whispered.

Then she was in his arms, her mouth drinking greedily from his. He thought he could taste a touch of desperation in her kiss. Her hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, tearing the tails from his trousers. He helped her drag the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him and made quick work of his trousers. Vittorio stepped out of them, then got rid of the socks and shoes.

His arousal was hard and ready for her. He plunged his hands into her hair as she laved him with her tongue. He hissed as she took him deep into her mouth. Mia ran her hands up and down his legs as she let him ride her tongue, plunging deep into the wet heat.

It was too good. He didn’t want to come. Not yet. He released his grip on her head and stepped back, even though his body demanded release. He wasn’t going to rush this. Not this time. He grasped her by the shoulders and helped her to her feet. They were both breathing heavily.

Her eyes were wide and tender as her gaze swept over him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up against him. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I told the kitchen to hold dinner until we called for it.”

“I’m not hungry. Except for you.” Vittorio swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. “I want to spend the rest of the evening right here with you.”

“Excellent idea, Your Highness.”

Her body was warm and soft beneath his. He pressed her into the mattress as he had done every night since he’d brought her here, but he doubted he would have ever gotten used to the incredible sensation of her body against his. She fit him perfectly. He wanted her. He needed her. How had he let it get this far?

Her hands came up to cup his face. “Don’t think about it,” she whispered as if she could read his mind. “Not tonight.”

“Yes. You are right.” He brushed his lips over hers, so softly. “Tonight is for the two of us only. There is no Mezzano. No Stagatland. No thoughts of tomorrow. Just you. And me.”

Vittorio dropped tender kisses along her collarbone. He nuzzled her neck, inhaled her scent. He would always remember it. Then he slid lower, his body dragging over hers, sending his arousal spinning even higher. As he traveled along her body, he memorized every inch, every curve, every dip.

He drank from the nectar between her legs, knowing he would never forget her taste. When he drove her over the edge, he embraced the way she cried out his name, knowing he would always remember the way his name sounded coming from her lips.

Her eyes glittered as she silently watched him cover himself with the condom and slide into her welcoming body. How could this feel as if he was coming home? They didn’t belong together. Could never be together. Why did it have to feel so right?

Vittorio kissed her gently as he moved in her. “
Cara,
” he crooned. “
Cara mia
.” She whimpered and draped her arms around his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his hips. She held him as if she never wanted to let him go. He knew he held her in the same way.

After he’d emptied himself, after he gave Mia everything he had, he gathered her into his arms. The sun had set but the moon was full and the room was shadowed from the moonlight.

Mia’s head rested on his shoulder. She stroked his chest with her hand.

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Birgitte has returned.”

“I know.”

“We must leave for Stagatland in the morning.” She nodded. “I know, Vittorio. I know.”

The next morning, the tension in the room was a living, writhing pressure bearing down on them both. Mia’s stomach was so twisted up there was no room for the breakfast that had been set out for them. She stood on the balcony, looking out at the now-colorful garden and tears prickled her eyes as she realized that after all the time she’d spent there, all the care she’d given it, she’d never see it again.

Mia refused to let a single tear fall. This day had been looming in the back of her mind since the moment she agreed to stay here with Vittorio. The shoe had dropped. The sword had fallen. If her heart was broken, she had no one to blame but herself. It was time to go back to Stagatland and get on with the rest of her life.

Two servants walked by, rolling large trunks into the bedroom. Mia followed them into the dressing room, then shouted for them to stop when she saw them taking the clothing Vittorio had given her out of the closet and beginning to pack them in the trunks.

“What are you doing?” she cried,

The women froze and looked at her, startled. “Packing your things, Miss Holmberg,” one of them said.

“Oh, no. Those are not mine.” She may have once toyed with the idea of keeping all the things Vittorio had bought for her, but she knew she never could.

“Of course, they are.” Vittorio stepped out of the bathroom. His white shirt hung open over crisp black trousers. He nodded at the women who were standing there waiting for his cue. They went back to their task, filling the trunks.

Vittorio took Mia’s arm and led her out to the sitting room. “I bought those things for you. I want you to have them.”

“But if I come back home with all this finery, everyone will know.” It wouldn’t matter if Birgitte kept her mouth closed.

“Know what?” he asked.

“Everyone at home thinks I came here to help teach the palace children and rejuvenate the garden. They don’t know you brought me here to be your mistress.”

“Mia…”

“I can’t bring them home. They are lovely. Thank you. But I can’t take them back with me.” Mia couldn’t help the desperation that crept into her voice. “I can’t take them.”

“All right. All right. Calm down.” She knew he didn’t understand. She didn’t want him worrying about her after she returned to her homeland. He smoothed her hair back away from her face. “What would you have me do with them?”

“I don’t care. Give them away. Donate them to charity.” She narrowed her eyes. “Just don’t give them to your new bride.”

“Never.” He gathered her close. “Stay.”

She leaned back to look him in the eye. “What?”

He placed a brief, wet kiss on her lips. Her heart raced. “I don’t want you to go. Stay. You can keep your clothes. I will buy you a beautiful house with a garden for you to dig in to your heart’s content.”

A chill ran over her skin. “No.” How could he say that? Didn’t he know her at all?

“Stay in Mezzano, Mia. Stay here with me.” Now she could detect the desperation in his voice. “We can make it work. I will be with you as often as I can.”

“No.”

“I can’t let you go.”

“You have to.” Her voice cracked. “You must know I will not be your mistress while you are married to someone else. I can’t.” To watch him marry someone else? To see him have children with her? No matter how much she loved him, she could never be content with tiny bits of stolen time.

“There seems to be a lot of things you cannot do this morning.”

Mia cleared her throat, stepped away. Vittorio’s fingers dragged along her skin as he reluctantly let her go.

“I did not intend this,” he said. “I did not intend any of this.”

“I know. You will be king. You need a wife. A royal wife to be your queen and bear heirs to your throne. It cannot be me.” She turned away before he could see the tears, blinked them away before they could fall. One last glance out the window at the lovely garden and she turned back to him and lifted her chin. “I want to go home.”

The plane ride to Stagatland was spent mostly in silence. Vittorio regretted that they were parting on bad terms. He would miss the quiet times with Mia, eating together, talking together, nearly as much as he would the passion they’d shared in his bed.

The sudden panic that had crushed his chest that morning had been unexpected. He’d not planned to ask her to stay with him. The yearning to keep her with him had overridden his good sense. Again, he had been thinking with his heart instead of his head. He had to heed his father’s warning.

It was not uncommon for the royal men of Mezzano to keep a mistress on the side. It was the way of men who could not marry for love. If Mia would have agreed, he could have had it all. A royal wife and a passionate lover.

But he knew now he would not have allowed it, even if she had agreed. He would not cheat Mia out of the life she deserved.

They were nearly to Stagatland when Vittorio crossed the aisle to sit beside Mia. She had ignored him for the entire flight. When he sat down she looked away from the window and steadily met his gaze.

“I am sorry, Mia. For everything.” He took a deep breath. “No, I take that back. I am not sorry for spending these past weeks with you. I am grateful for the time we had together. But I should not have asked you to give up your life for me. You deserve a family of your own.

Children of your own.”

She nodded. “I want that. A family. Children. I do want that.”

“I remember seeing you with the children in the garden, holding hands and walking the pathway like I used to do with my mother.” Vittorio took her hand, kissed her fingertips. “You will make a wonderful mother. Some man will be very lucky to have you as his wife.”

“I will miss you, Vittorio. I’ll remember our time together fondly. But once we leave the plane, I cannot acknowledge more than a passing acquaintance with you. You met Birgitte at your father’s birthday ball and I simply agreed to come to Mezzano to help out for a little while.”

“I understand.” Vittorio leaned forward. “If I will never be able to do this again, I must do it one last time.” He slid his fingers through her hair and covered her mouth with his. It was a sweet kiss, a tender glide of lips, a soft exchange of breath. She pressed her hand to his cheek for a long moment, then let it drop.

Mia nodded to him, coolly, properly. “Your Highness.” She turned her face to the window then and didn’t look at him again.

Mia had only just gotten settled back into her little cottage when the invitation came by messenger. Of course, she would be invited to the dinner at the palace the following evening to welcome the crown prince of Mezzano. To celebrate the upcoming union of Prince Vittorio and Princess Birgitte. Mia curled up in the wide chair in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the pain.

Couldn’t she have had a few days to hole up and lick her wounds? A few days to grieve? Some quiet time alone to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life? Just because she’d known her time with Vittorio was going to end, that didn’t mean it was any easier to accept when it happened.

Still, she couldn’t refuse to make an appearance. Looking at her meager wardrobe, Mia regretted not keeping at least one knockout outfit to wear to dinner at the palace. What could she wear that had any chance of helping her stand out against Birgitte and whatever gorgeous dress she would decide to wear?

It didn’t matter what she wore. Mia would never take anything but second place.

She fingered the long strand of diamonds around her neck. It was the only thing she hadn’t been able to leave behind in Mezzano. She would wear this every day beneath her clothing. No one needed to know she wore a string of diamonds given to her by a prince. The stones were warm against her skin and she remembered the fire in Vittorio’s eyes when he gave them to her. The way their bodies had come together afterward.

The ice blue ball gown she’d worn that first night took up too much room in her closet.

She couldn’t wear it tomorrow night. It was Birgitte’s. Would always be Birgitte’s. She’d never wear it again. It reminded her too much of her time with Vittorio.

Mia dug into the back of the closet and pulled out a long dress she’d worn a few years ago to a friend’s wedding. There was nothing sexy about it, but the high neckline would allow her to hide the diamonds.

They would be her little secret.

Annika stopped by the next evening to go with Mia as her guest, so she didn’t have to arrive at the palace alone. Anni took one look at her dress and cried out in dismay. “Is that what you’re wearing?”