'Eat, Luciana,' he ordered, knowing what was coming.
He didn't want Pietro's gratitude. It was Thane's job to procure him a better life. He was the one to blame for the mess they were in. If he'd been stronger, hidden his true ambitions better, his father would have given him the throne upon his death. Instead of passing it over to the power-hungry, greedy lech that was Franco Guerrero.
Naturally Luciana didn't take a blind bit of notice-Dios, she was an obstinate little thing-and she blinked up at Pietro with those gorgeous brandy eyes no man could possibly resist. Not even happily married Pietro, with his six girls and loose tongue.
'He gives us a home, our own land. No one but the crown owns land on Galancia, but Thane gives us acres of his vineyards and my family make the best wines on the island. Then he makes sure my girls can travel north, go to school. He fixes everything.'
'Pietro … don't. Please.'
Every time he heard those words it just reminded him of the thousands of others he couldn't help. Though now he had Luciana all that would change, wouldn't it? Dios, he couldn't wait. His patience shredded more by the day.
Luciana, whose only focus was Pietro, said, 'Oh, he does?'
As if some mental explosion had occurred in that ingenious brain of hers, so many emotions flickered across her exquisite face that he was hard-pressed to pick out one.
'Si,' Pietro said avidly. 'The best man to walk the earth. And now you are here, and everything will be-'
Thane glanced up to silence him. He didn't want these two days to be mired with talk of his throne. But, fisting his hand beneath the table, he warred with an internal battle to be forthright. At least with himself. Truth was, he wanted Luciana to want him. To choose him over Augustus. Not to feel pushed or obligated in any way. And he refused to read too deeply into that.
'Now I'm here … ?' Luciana prompted.
Pietro grinned. 'He will be happy at last. All will be well.'
Guilt blanched her flawless skin and she composed a spurious smile that made Thane uneasy. Made him doubly sure he was missing something.
'You must meet my wife. I will never have peace if she does not speak to you.'
Thane almost groaned aloud. They would be here all day and Luciana would be subjected to God knows what.
'Pietro? I don't think we have time. Luciana wishes to explore-isn't that right, angel?'
The wide-eyed gleam she launched his way was anything but angelic. It was positively devious and it made his blood hum. She wanted to hear more, he realised.
'We have plenty of time … darling.' She emphasised that endearment-the very one that made his heart lurch-with a swift kick to his shin as she peered up at the other man all guile and innocence. 'I think that's a wonderful idea, Pietro. I would love to meet her.'
Relishing Thane's discomfort, she flashed her teeth at him, all saccharine sweetness. The dark look he volleyed back said she would pay highly for it. Later.
Then again, Pietro had wandered off-so why wait?
Easing forward in his seat, he slid wicked fingers over the delicate curve of her knee beneath the table, then made small teasing circles as they ascended higher and higher up her inner thigh.
The light flush that coloured her cheeks made a gradual descent across her chest, down over her breasts, and the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in her fist rippled as she clamped her thighs together, imprisoning his hand.
'See that knife?' she whispered in a rush, motioning to the lethal blade on the table-top. 'I won't hesitate to chop those fingers off.'
'Ah, you won't do that, Luciana.'
'I wouldn't be so sure, if I were you. Don't underestimate me, Romeo.'
Flipping his hand, he forcibly nudged her legs apart. 'While I have no intention of underestimating you, I believe you'll soon see sense. Because what will I pleasure you with then?'
Her breathing became short and shallow, making her deep cleavage taunt him with a subtle quivering heave, and he had the sinful urge to ramp up her erotic want higher still. So he stroked one finger over the lace of her panties and ran his tongue along his bottom lip suggestively.
'Actually … who needs fingers? I can think of various other ways to torment you.'
And he would use every one to lure her in. No matter what it took, by the weekend both Luciana and the throne would be his.
* * *
She was going to murder him. Wrap her hands around his throat and send him to meet his maker-the devil himself. That was if she didn't choke on the uncut testosterone in the air first. Arrogant and downright debauched-that was what he was.
She couldn't move or whimper a sound, since Pietro was still fiddling with a coffee pot at the far end of the deck-and of course the shameless reprobate just loved that … the possibility of them getting caught likely got him off. It certainly didn't excite her blood. A woman of her gentility and refinement should be appalled at his sybaritic behaviour. And she was. Utterly.
Squirming, she tried to dislodge his hand and alleviate the dark pulse that throbbed in her pelvis. She wanted them back on topic. Wanted to hear every word that wasn't being said. It was that stuff that interested her-far more than his wandering lasciviousness.
Liar.
She felt like an insect that had inadvertently strayed into a spider's web, her every move ensuring greater entrapment, but right now she didn't care. Entangled as she was, there was far more going on here than met the eye.
Pietro vanished around the corner and she smacked Thane's arm away as she spun on him, eyes narrowed.
'Your uncle runs Galancia in a dictatorship, does he not? No government, no parliament to speak for the people, all the power coming from the man at the top. The state owns every acre of land, therefore every piece of brick and mortar too.'
That did it.
He flung himself back in his seat, taking his wicked fingers with him. It was if he'd found a state of mindless pleasure and was put out at her stopping his fun. Tough.
'I am sure you know he does, princesa.'
'So by giving Pietro his own land you're breaking your own rules?'
He picked up his espresso and downed the treble shot. 'They are not mine.'
'No? Are you saying you don't agree with them?'
His nonchalant shrug belied the curious tension in his menacingly hard frame. 'I don't think it's fair that the people can't reap the benefits of their hard work, that's all.'
Fair? 'You're indirectly hinting at a democracy, Thane.'
'I might be.'
Shock made her rock back in her seat. The dark, dangerous, autocratic Prince of Galancia wanted a democracy? While Arunthia had been a democratic state for years, it was the last thing she'd expected here.
'Is this what you're planning to do when you rule?'
'I might be.'
Good Lord. 'And so you take from the rich to give to the poor in the meantime?'
He scratched his jaw lazily. 'On occasion. Or I may just have paid Pietro's family for building this house.'
'How much? Thirty million?'
'I'll have you know it's the going rate.'
'Is it really?'
This was unbelievable. Staggering. She'd been absolutely right. She had no idea who he was. And nor did anyone else. Including her father. Which wasn't surprising. Since Thane didn't have overall control he naturally wanted to keep his true agenda firmly under wraps.
'Still being a hero, then, Thane?' she asked softly.
Just as he'd been when he'd saved her from a fate worse than death in Zurich. Just as he'd been when he'd appeared once again out of nowhere in Courchevel. As if she'd conjured him up. Like some freak happenstance or serendipity.
An assassin? A mercenary? This man? She doubted that very much.
But, oh, no, he really didn't like being called a hero. The angry glitter in his eyes told her that. He was a testament to leashed power, Luciana decided. No need to shout when he could incite a quake with one look or a word. So intense. And he was heart-thumpingly gorgeous with it.
'Quiet, Luciana. Or I will silence that mouth for you. Again. And don't think I won't.'
His dominant power pushed at her, hot and hard, and she blushed like a teenager with a crush.
'Oh. I believe you. But this time I'm not giving you the chance.' That was what had got her into this mess to start with.
She might be here against her will, or rather she'd had little choice, but the sliver of pride she had left was a precious commodity she could ill afford to lose. So there was no way she was falling for that again. She knew better. Kiss her once and he'd had her on a plane. Kiss her twice and she'd find herself bound for Outer Mongolia, or flat on her back on her way to a priest. Though why the man wanted to marry her specifically she couldn't begin to fathom.
Why can't you just accept he wants you for you, Luce?
Because that would be plain stupid.
He arched one of those devilish brows. 'You know better than to challenge me, Luciana.'
The dark promise in those words made her shiver. And if his obsidian eyes had seemed compelling before, now they were like magnets, pulling on the iron in her blood, making it race around her body.
Lifting her tall glass, she splashed some orange juice down her parched throat, relishing the tangy sweetness that burst over her tongue, determined to wrestle back her poise. Get back on topic, for heaven's sake.