The Playboy Prince (Piacere Princes, Book One) (33 page)

“Thank you, Papa,” Magdalena replied, tears shining in her eyes.
 

Salvadore’s hand was on her shoulder. “Gabriel, I’ll send some men to get you moved back home first thing in the morning, so you just sit tight and don’t lift a finger.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Maggie’s father said, a sense of relief and contentment about him that hadn’t been there for weeks. “You take good care of my daughter, now.”

Salvy nodded and shook the old man’s hand. “We’ll take good care of each other, I expect.”

Amalia grinned at the two of them and Juliet shooed them out the door with handfuls of sandwiches for the trip back to Arcobaleno—only twenty minutes by helicopter, Salvy insisted, but they took the provisions anyway.
 

Maggie found that she was quite hungry, and struggled to remember the last time she’d eaten, but once Salvy had lifted her into the helicopter, buckled her in, and the pilot had taken to the sky, she forgot all about food.

For the twenty-minute trip back to the country’s capital, she thought of nothing but the feel of Prince Salvadore’s lips moving against hers, the taste of his tongue as he stoked the fire in her blood to boiling, and the warmth of his strong arms holding her body against his—and the novel, unbelievable truth that she never had to say goodbye to any of it again.

Everything happened quickly once they returned to the palace. They had fifteen minutes alone in Salvadore’s house on the grounds before the guards, then Salvy’s handler, Etzio, came knocking. He’d seemed unfazed by the fact that they were naked in bed, but had seemed shocked when Salvadore ordered him out until they’d had time to get dressed.
 

They had spoken to King Alfonso and to Prince Niccolo, both of whom gave their blessing to announce their engagement to the crowd still gathered on the grounds and planning to stay for two more days. It had been Salvy’s idea to spend a little more time planning the wedding. Now that he would marry a woman he loved, he thought the ceremony should be more than perfunctory, and even though Maggie would have married him that very night, she also liked the idea of tailoring it to the two of them.

“How long do you need to design yourself a dress?”

“I think I’ll ask my father to do it, but a couple of weeks should be plenty of time, if we keep some of the staff that was here for the ball.”

“Two weeks from today it is, then.” Salvy beamed down at her, then kissed the tip of her nose. The hungry look in his eyes said that he wanted more, but Nico had already told them twice to cool it, in a rather exasperated tone.

In his defense, he’d lost track of his daughter sometime during the night and had found her in the kitchen with some of the staff’s children, covered in flour and honey that had been set aside for a mountain of cakes.
 

An announcement had gone out to the guests, asking them to gather at sunrise in the large courtyard below the front balcony—the same spot where Alfonso and his bride had stood for a photo op many years ago, and Nico and his deceased wife had kissed for the cameras more recently.
 

Nerves thrummed through Magdalena’s limbs at the idea of putting herself, and her relationship with Prince Salvadore, on display for the entire country. Gossip shows would parse it out, wonder how long it had been going on. They would speculate as to whether she was pregnant, since that seemed to be a thing with Salvy, and conclude that must be the only reason the King would allow such a match.
 

But when his hand curled around hers, strong and constant, his strength and his smile chased away all of her doubts.

The crowd waited as a royal page stepped onto the balcony with his microphone and cleared his throat. Maggie could almost feel them holding their collective breath, but neither King Alfonso or Prince Niccolo looked the least bit hesitant about what was about to be said. Maggie tried to take her cue from them—if they were confident in how well this would all turn out, then she would find a way to be, too.

If Salvadore said that her belief in him had made it easier for him to see it himself, then his certainty that her birth did not matter, that she was deserving of his love because of the person she was inside, would help her believe the same thing.

“Announcing the royal engagement of Prince Salvadore Piacere to Miss Magdalena Rossi, daughter of Gabriel Rossi, tailor to the royal family. The wedding will be postponed for two weeks, but everyone at the ball is invited to attend, and to extend their stay on the castle grounds until then, if they so desire.”

The page stepped back and cast a glance back through the open French doors. Through them, Magdalena could see the pink and purple hues announcing the arrival of a new day—a new life—the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon, and the ornate edge of the balcony, but not the people waiting expectantly below for a glimpse of Prince Salvy.

Of her, at his side.
 

“Ready?” Salvy looked down, the picture of joyous calm, and surety flowed between them. The peace that came from knowing they’d found their match.

She nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I am.”

He smiled and then led her out onto the balcony at his side, the crowd below erupting in enthusiastic cheers. They stepped to the edge, the waist-high barrier protecting them from the brisk morning breeze, and cameras began to flash. Magdalena began to get a sense of vertigo, but as Salvy turned her toward him and dropped her hand to raise both palms to her cheeks, she felt dizzy for a different reason. Drunk on her own life, it would seem.

Prince Salvadore Piacere looked deep into her eyes, and he didn’t have to say that he loved her—she could see it, and she would be shocked could not everyone see the bare adoration between them. Then he lowered his lips to hers, gentle and searching, a proper kiss as the crowd roared what sounded like, in her dim awareness of a world outside the kiss of her prince, approval of her permanent spot beside him.

Epilogue

Salvadore

It had been a week since the ball, but he still couldn’t get used to waking up beside Magdalena. Couldn’t stare at her enough like this, with the sunlight streaming over her gorgeous face, lighting her skin and making the gems on her ring finger sparkle.

He didn’t want to get used to it, he just wanted to live inside of it. The fact that his father had agreed to let him marry her still felt impossible to Magdalena, but to him, it had started to seem as if these moments had always been their inevitable end.
 

Magdalena stirred in her sleep, her lips curling into a smile. She looked like a happy cat in a sunbeam and Salvadore moved closer, pressing his torso against hers and reveling in the softness of her skin. Her brown eyes opened when his knuckles grazed her ribcage, desire already burning in them.
 

“Good morning,” he said, leaning down to catch her lips with his.

“Mmm, good morning.” Magdalena stretched, arching her back so that her full breasts pushed out from under the sheet. A teasing glint shone in her gaze as her hair fell over one shoulder, probably at the knowledge that, with her naked body on full display from the waist up, his interest was…piqued. “What are you doing awake before me? Are you ill? Backing out?”

Salvy shook his head, trying his best to keep his eyes on her face. Which held its own charms, to be sure. “Never. To the last question, not the others. I was thinking about our honeymoon, actually.”

“You’re the expert on travel. I’ve barely been out of the country.”

There was so much he wanted to show her. So many places he’d barely taken the time to see, but with Magdalena at his side, they would be full of wonders. The urge to sightsee, to point out the world’s treasures, surprised him. He had figured they wouldn’t spend much time outside their room.

“You’re going to love it all. Just wait.”

“I just want nice weather so we can sleep with the windows and doors open to the water, and a big bed that someone else will change once a day,” she purred, leaning into him.

Salvy rested a hand on her hip, luxuriating in the slowness of a morning seduction. In the blissful knowledge that they didn’t have to leave each other’s presence for the remainder of the day. Her vision of their honeymoon quickly became his. There was plenty of time for sightseeing. “Tahiti, maybe,” he told her, leaning down to kiss her neck.

Maggie threw her head back on the pillow, giving him access to her neck, and toyed with his hair. Her fingers sent shocks down his back and he stood at full attention, aching to be inside her now. He couldn’t believe that he’d almost been the idiot chicken-shit who lost her.
 

He stopped kissing her neck and laid her on her back, stripping the sheet so that he could see all of her at once. It left him exposed as well, and the hungriness in her dark eyes as they raked him, head to toe, made him harder than seemed possible.

Magdalena spread her legs for him, beckoning him on top of her with a come-hither gaze, and he wasted no time complying. He held off giving her what she wanted, though, and hovered above her, taking one firm nipple between his lips. His tongue scraped over the erect nub, sucking until she moaned.

“Salvy,” she whispered. “I want you.”

“And I you, beauty,” he teased, switching his attention to her other tit and dropping one hand between her legs to explore how wet she’d gotten.

His fingers slipped easily inside her, and he bit back a groan in response. She was so ready for him, every time. As eager as he was to bring their bodies together again and again, as if neither of them wanted to let go for too long and find the other gone in a puff of smoke.
 

Magdalena wasn’t keen on teasing, this morning, or waiting. Her fingers wrapped around his dick and moved in long, firm strokes. She writhed underneath him as he pushed her toward the edge of her control, and when she guided him inside the heat pulsing between her legs, he couldn’t resist any longer.

The hot wetness of her nearly undid him. He slid in deep and held himself there, adjusting to the feeling of their bodies joined together. Then Maggie tipped her hips up, inviting him deeper still, and moved against him in that agonizingly measured way that she had.
 

Salvy rocked inside her, his lips kissing and biting at hers. He loved the taste of her, the sensation of being inside her from his tongue to his dick. He felt her orgasm begin to build as she tightened around him and her breathing quickened. When she tumbled into bliss, gasping his name over and over as she convulsed around him, Salvy let go, too. He loved coming with her, the wonder of releasing control to her as she gave it over to him, until they collapsed together with wildly beating hearts and the smell of lust salty in the air.

Her fingers went again to his hair, making lazy arcs in the thick strands. “I think Tahiti sounds nice.”

“It’s private, too, so if we want to be far enough away that clothing is optional…” He murmured this into her chest, marveling at the way her nipples responded so quickly to the sweep of his breath. It wouldn’t be long before he was ready again, too.

“I don’t know. You might have a hard time convincing me to leave.”

He raised his head, propping his chin on the heel of his hand so that he could stare at her. “We have the rest of our lives to pick our favorite spot. Then, we’ll retire there after Elisa inherits the crown, marries a nice man, and has some children.”

She laughed, the throaty sound of it making him twitch inside her. “You’re pinning a lot of hope on a little girl who doesn’t seem to be any more interested in conforming than her wild uncle was a month ago.”

“You saved me, Maggie. From myself.”

Her fingers cupped his chin. “You saved me, too. We’re even.”

“We’re getting married in a week.”

“I know. Then, what will you do with me?”

“I have some interesting role-playing ideas, if you’re interested.”

“I’m interested.” She dipped her finger between his lips and closed her eyes as he sucked on it, flicking his tongue across the tip. “I’m interested in anything and everything, as long as you’re the one leading me through it.”