November Harlequin Presents 1(33)

He returned to the table after executing his duty with as much good grace as he could muster. Carrie had gone very pale, he noticed, and would barely look at him. His grandfather seemed pale and unwell, too.

In the short time he had been in Niroli he had noticed his grandfather’s deterioration and could understand his urgent wish to find an heir. He could step in and put an end to the old man’s suffering right away. Accepting the crown was the only thing his grandfather had ever asked of him, and King Giorgio’s increasing weakness brought out the protective elements in his nature. He could think of endless reasons why he shouldn’t accept the crown, but now he tried to find reasons why he must. He would see more of his family, and maybe in time he could bring his head office to Niroli and learn to live happily within the confines of a small island….

Work and rule? Nico frowned as he flicked the edge of his jacket out of reach of Princess Anastasia’s spiny fingers. He had always been an all-or-nothing man. Ruling Niroli would mean relinquishing his business completely. But as the princess reached for him again a smile curved his lips…If he were King he could have Anastasia banned from the kingdom for ever.

Easing himself away from her, he wondered how much more he was expected to take of Anastasia’s suffocating perfume and desperate manner. And now he was forced to jerk his leg away as her bare foot tried to find his calf. The woman revolted him. He had done his duty by her as custom demanded, but the thought of bedding her….

Swallowing back disgust, Nico turned his mind to solving the problem of an heir should he take the throne. He had no doubt he would make a good king. He was an effective leader, and so far there hadn’t been a problem he couldn’t solve. And, he reminded himself, he had two brothers who could provide an heir….

But as Anastasia released a theatrical sigh he glanced at Carrie. She still had her face turned away from him, showing her strong profile, but there was something vulnerable beneath the surface that touched him. The contrast between the two women couldn’t have been more marked. He decided to test his thoughts on his mother. Leaning across, he drew her attention. ‘I could settle at court pretty quickly with Anastasia at my side, don’t you think, Mother? She seems to have every bit of etiquette at her fingertips…’

His mother appeared not to hear him.

‘As a princess born and bred,’ he pressed mischievously, ‘don’t you think Anastasia would slip easily into her role as my wife?’

‘Your wife?’ His mother turned abruptly. ‘Why, Nico,’ she exclaimed, bringing her face very close so they couldn’t be overheard, ‘I thought you could tell a real jewel from a fake, but it seems I was mistaken.’

He sat back, feeling more pleased by that comment than he had expected. Thrusting his jacket aside, he stuck his thumbs into the pockets of his waistcoat to continue his contemplation of Carrie. She so quiet, so modest and discreet…It pleased him to think that only he knew the other side of her. And now he ached to be alone with her. He ached to be inside her.

He felt a rush of pleasure when she turned to look at him. She had sensed his interest. Meeting her gaze, he indicated with the faintest quirk of his brow his intention to leave the banquet. She hesitated, and then, just as he had expected, she quietly stood and curtsied low to his grandfather. The king was too busy talking to notice her, and his mother was back on the gossip trail. Below them on the dance floor couples swirled in a kaleidoscopic whirl of colour. Any remaining guests were chatting easily at their tables now the wheels of conversation had been oiled with good food and wine. No one would miss them if they left, and he didn’t care if they did; some things wouldn’t wait.

Pushing up from his seat, he inclined his head politely as Carrie drew alongside him, and then, offering her his arm, he escorted her from the room.



‘Nico?’ Carrie said faintly, when Nico, having opened the door to her apartment, showed no sign of leaving.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’ he said.

Ask him in and face the consequences? Ask him in and fulfil her role as his convenient woman? She couldn’t even call herself his mistress, Carrie reflected. She was nothing more than Nico’s bedmate, the woman who eased his frustration when he was bored or restless, or had a few minutes to spare before his next engagement. ‘Won’t Anastasia miss you?’

His lips tugged up at that, while his eyes burned with some inner heat. He had no intention of answering her, she knew that, but she still wanted him with all her heart, her soul and every inch of her body. She wanted to lay claim to him, to put her brand on him, to push Anastasia out of the picture once and for all.