Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) (7 page)

She gasped softly and his body stirred as the familiar sound brought to mind tangled sheets and busy hands and hungry lips. She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where she is.”

Vittorio would never forget the sound of Birgitte’s voice. Could she possibly share the exact same voice with her cousin? The same blue eyes? The same lovely lips? He took a step closer to this woman and inhaled deeply. He’d never forget that sweet scent or the way it hit him on a visceral level.

“It’s you.” He was unable to keep the wonder from his voice. It took all he had to resist grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

“No. I…”

He turned on Einar. “What game are you playing?” he demanded.

The older man frowned, his bushy eyebrows forming a silver V. “I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness.”

Vittorio whirled and faced Birgitte. Anger simmered, began to heat him. He would discover what was going on before he left this frigid country. “Why are you lying to me?”

Mia’s heart clenched. The pain in Vittorio’s voice was clear beneath his anger. She couldn’t blame him for being confused and angry. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms. To taste him and touch him. To explain her deception and hope he’d forgive her lies.

Had he really come to Stagatland looking for her? Part of her rejoiced even as she stared at the handsome prince, the handsome
angry
prince, and knew that this was the worst thing that could happen. She didn’t know how to respond to his questions. What should she say to him? Either she brazened it out and denied she was the woman he’d met last weekend, the woman he’d made love to all night long, or she admitted her masquerade and betrayed the princess.

She recognized Rico, the tall bald man who had helped her slip out of the palace after those incredible hours with Vittorio. Rico was studying her now with narrowed eyes. He caught her gaze and recognition blazed there. Even if the bodyguard hadn’t recognized her, Mia knew she couldn’t lie to Vittorio any more. There was no point.

He’d told her how much he hated lies. His anger at her deception would be more than enough to push him away.

Mia turned to face the prince and the need to touch him was a physical ache inside of her. The memories of their time together were too fresh. She nearly folded her arms across her stomach to stop the pain. She swallowed before she could speak. “Can we talk alone for a moment, Your Highness?”

He nodded sharply and followed her across the street to a small niche between two buildings. They stopped in front of a snow-covered bench and turned to face each other. There were a few people walking on the snowy sidewalk, but they skirted Mia and Vittorio even as they shot the pair curious looks. Mia knew she’d have to answer a lot of questions later.

Mia ignored the people around them, instead she swept her gaze over Vittorio. She’d been given this one last chance to see him and she wanted to make the most of it. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. A bittersweet sigh escaped her lips. “I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said, even though those were the last words she expected to come out of her mouth.

His dark eyes flared. “So you admit it.”

“Yes.” The one word came out on a shaky sigh.

Vittorio took a step closer to her. His eyes searched her face for the answers he wouldn’t be able to find. “I don’t understand. Why the lies?”

“It’s complicated.” She took a deep breath. She reached out to touch him, but drew her hand back before she did it in front of all the people watching them. There were too many people watching them. “My name is Mia Holmberg.”

“More lies,” Vittorio growled. “Why are you pretending to be someone else, Birgitte?”

“I’m not Princess Birgitte, Your Highness. I am her cousin. We resemble each other.” But she knew, bundled up in wools, she looked nothing like a princess. She didn’t know how Vittorio could even recognize her the way she looked right now, so plain and unattractive. She foolishly wished she looked prettier for the last time he would see her. She wished his last memories of her would be in an elegant ball gown or stretched out on his soft mattress. Not wearing a bulky coat with a knit cap pulled over her head.

“I don’t care how much you look alike,” he snapped. “I know you are the woman I held in my arms.” She hushed him and then he seemed to notice the people around them. He lowered his voice, but went on. “I know you are the woman who was in my bed.”

“Yes. I was,” she whispered. “I will never forget it, Vittorio.” She took a deep breath.

“But I am not the princess. I am Mia.”

Storm clouds passed across his face, rivaling the ones in the sky threatening to dump more frigid snow on Stagatland. “
You
came to Mezzano last weekend?”

She met his gaze, held it. “Yes.”

Understanding straightened his shoulders, making him an even more imposing figure. “But you are not Princess Birgitte?”

“No.” She reached for him, but he pulled his hand away before she could touch him. “Please understand,” she begged in a loud whisper. “The princess could not attend. She asked me to take her place.”

“Take her place?” Vittorio grabbed her arm, pulled her close. Her body bumped up against his and even with all his anger, she yearned to press fully along his hard, hot body. “You mean lie. To me. To my family. To the king.”

She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall from the venom in his voice. “Yes.”

He pushed her away. “You made me a fool.”

She stumbled back into the brick wall of the apartment building. “No. Your Highness, please.” She hated the way her voice cracked. Hated the way she wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. “Vittorio…I’m sorry.”

He waved away her apology as if it meant nothing. “Do you often stand in for your cousin?” he sneered.

Her stomach twisted. She opened her mouth to deny it, but couldn’t. It had always been a game they played. It
had
been a game this time too. At first. But it had ceased to be a game the moment she saw him cross the dance floor to take her hand in his. He would never understand how much that night had meant to her. How much he meant to her.

His leather-covered fingers curled into fists at his side. “Do you often take your cousin’s place in a man’s bed?”

She gasped. “No.” She supposed she deserved that, but it didn’t make the hurt at his words any less sharp. “No, you don’t understand.”

“Perhaps you often find your pleasure by pretending to be a princess.” His snide tone of voice was so at odds with the charm she remembered. “A simple teacher would certainly not find her way into a prince’s bed any other way.”

“Don’t be cruel!” she exclaimed. Then she dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “I was doing a favor, that’s all. I didn’t expect to meet you. I didn’t expect to…”

Vittorio’s face went blank. “Enough. I will not hear any more of your lies.” For a hot-blooded Mezzanoan, his voice was ice cold. “When I talk to your cousin, I will let her know that you played your part perfectly.”

Mia watched Vittorio stalk away from her. Tears she could no longer hold back trickled down her cheeks, leaving icy tracks on her skin. She should have never taken the children out of school today. Now, instead of the lovely memories of her night with Vittorio, she would forever be haunted by the contempt on his face before he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Were there no honest people left in the world? Could no one speak the truth to him? While he was growing up, people Vittorio had thought were his friends had often lied to get what they wanted from him. He’d learned recently that his royal advisors had been less than forthcoming with the state of the country. Even his father was guilty of lies of omission. And now this woman…

Back home in Mezzano, Vittorio stood on the balcony off his bedchamber and stared out into the darkness, seeing nothing but bright blue eyes and a deceptive smile. The connection he’d felt the night of the ball with the woman he thought was Princess Birgitte was something he should have known was too good to be true. She’d been playing a game, while he thought he’d found the perfect woman to rule at his side.

He knew he’d been foolish for thinking he could find anything close to a love match. To have been tempted by this woman, even for a moment, was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He was going to be king. The inevitability had lurked in the back of his mind always, of course. But the certainty of it now hovered over him like the dark storm clouds in the Stagatland skies.

Now, when he should be focusing on the upcoming meeting with his military advisors, all he could think of was Mia and how she’d lied to him. And how she’d touched him. Made him smile. Promised him things she couldn’t deliver. Could never deliver.

At least not in the long term.

But she owed him something for the lies she’d told. For pretending to be the person he wanted her to be. For the unspoken promise of the perfect future she’d dangled in front of him only to snatch it away.

Vittorio spun around, his gaze falling on the bed. It was freshly made, but he saw it as it had been last weekend, the covers thrown back, the sheets rumpled, a long, lean woman stretched along the mattress, flashing that temptress smile. Her hair had been spread out around her like platinum silk. He rubbed his thumb and finger together, remembering the softness of the strands as they had slipped through his fingers.

The memory of her taste lingered on his tongue, leaving him hungry for more of her sweetness. He craved her like a powerful drug. She’d invaded his body, gotten under his skin, into his bloodstream until he couldn’t think of anything else. He wanted her more than nearly anything else. She still tempted him from so far away.

He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and drew out the pair of long white gloves he’d tucked into his jacket pocket that night after he’d stripped them from her arms. Her scent clung to the soft fabric and he didn’t have to lift them to his face to catch it now.

This woman had robbed him of the happy future he thought he would have. He deserved some compensation for the lies she told. She had to pay for her deception.

Vittorio crumpled up the gloves and tossed them back in the drawer. He strode through his suite and flung open the door. He shouted down the hall. “Rico!”

Two days after she saw Vittorio in front of her grandfather’s bakery, Mia was grateful for misbehaving students. As she and Annika broke up the fight over in the corner of the classroom, Mia barely had time to think about how angry the prince had been. Or how good he’d looked. Or how much she missed him.

Eric, of course, had been the instigator, but all the children had cabin fever. Even their trek to the bakery earlier in the week hadn’t given them enough of a chance to burn off all that excess energy adults wished they possessed.

“At least there’s no blood this time,” Annika said as she ducked tiny flying fists and hauled Lars off of Eric. The rest of the children, who’d gathered around the fighting boys, groaned with disappointment when their entertainment was interrupted.

How could they have gotten into that much trouble in the few minutes she and Annika had been looking over progress reports? Mia pointed to two chairs up at the front of the classroom. The boys hung their heads as they trudged across the room.

“Miss Holmberg, you’re not going to tell the headmistress, are you?” Eric asked.

“Don’t you think I should report that a fight broke out in my classroom?” she asked with a frown. Both boys shook their heads vigorously. “Then you should think before you call names or throw punches.”

“Yes, Miss Holmberg,” the boys, best friends, said in unison. They took the chairs and grinned at each other.

Mia hid a smile as she turned back to the class. But the admonition she was going to give the rest of the students was forgotten when the door to the classroom opened and Betty, the headmistress’s assistant, strode into the room. Eric and Lars gasped, but she didn’t look their way.

Betty stepped up to Mia and spoke softly. “Miss Holmberg. You are needed in the office immediately. Miss Lund can take over your class.”

“Yes, of course.” Possible reasons, all horrifying, ran through her head. Was one of her parents suddenly sick? Had someone been in an accident? Had her grandfather collapsed in the bakery? Betty’s high heels echoed off the walls down the long hallway. Mia’s heart pounded with dread. But when she followed her into the headmistress’s office, Mia shock was even greater when she saw a tall, broad, bald Mezzanoan bodyguard standing with Mrs. Svensson.

The elderly headmistress was dwarfed by Rico. “Oh, good, Miss Holmberg. This is the head of security for the crown Prince of Mezzano. He is here to accompany you to Mezzano.”

Mezzano?
“What? Why?”

“Prince Vittorio sent me for you,” Rico said, his deep rich voice somehow holding more authority than her superior.

Vittorio was furious with her. This couldn’t be good.

Vittorio had sent for her. Her heart warmed at the thought.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

The headmistress spoke up. “The prince has talked to King Karl and explained his need for a temporary teacher in Mezzano. I understand you met him the other day when you were out with the children?”

That was the excuse he was using to take her away from her home, her country? “Um. Yes. Briefly.” Mrs. Svensson and Betty nodded as if that answered everything.

“You obviously made a grand impression on His Royal Highness,” Mrs. Svensson said with a broad smile. “How wonderful.”

Mia’s heart pounded. She could see Vittorio again. All she had to do was agree to walk out the door.

“We must go,” Rico said. He took her arm in his iron grip and began to lead her out of the room while the other women merely looked on.

Mia dug in her heels, tried to stop him from dragging her out of the room. “Wait. No. I can’t go to Mezzano. I have responsibilities. My class.”

“Miss Lund will take over your class until you return,” Mrs. Svensson said smoothly.