When She Fell for the Billionaire(51)

It was a check.

“I’m giving you enough money to tide you over until you find your next meal ticket.”

Whoa.

“You’re giving me money to stay away from Luca?” Sabrina felt like she had stepped into a television drama.

“Believe me. This is a better return for your time and effort,” Eleni said reasonably, as if what she was attempting to do did not smack of bitch crazy.

“Time and effort?”

“You’ll do better to accept my money than spend time with Luca just expecting the occasional trinkets or designer clothes.”

Sabrina’s cheeks grew warm with guilt. But she had no reason to feel guilty. She did not ask for those presents!

"You’ll never be more than a plaything to him, my dear. You’re not his type. Luca likes his women with something more going for them than just their looks. He’ll tire of you soon enough.” She tapped the edge of the check on her lip thoughtfully. “You’re just rebound sex.”

“You think Luca will get back together with you once I’m out of the picture?”

“I don’t think it. He will.”

“If you’re sure he will grow bored with me, why bother paying me off?”

Eleni’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “To expedite the process. We both know how it’s going to end.”

Not if Sabrina had anything to do with it. “Actually, Eleni, you don’t or else you won’t be here paying me a not-so-social call.” She snatched the check from a startled Eleni, ripping it satisfyingly in two. She fought the urge to throw it at her face and instead let the pieces fall to the floor.

The Greek woman’s mouth dropped open. Sabrina stalked out of the room, the memory of Eleni’s disbelieving face a small consolation for the desolation she felt.





Chapter 14





Don’t make me fall for you.

Her voice was a refrain in his head. Had she actually said it or had he just been dreaming? Luca stood up as the rest of the attendees in the centuries-old church rose when the bridal march played.

Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandria Maria Gallagher Ligueria was a vision in white as she floated down the aisle, a smile of serene happiness glowing on her face. They had never been particularly close when they had vacationed during those summers in Ligueria, and he had actually felt a little sorry for her growing up with their termagant grandmother. But in the past year since her engagement to a famous polo player, their paths had often crossed at some polo tournaments Argenti had sponsored. Those occasional meetings had rekindled their kinship.

Beside him, his mother was dabbing her eyes with her lace-edged handkerchief. Flanking him was Raphael, who leaned in and whispered in English so their mother would find it harder to understand in case she overheard, “I’m ditching the luncheon. I’m not in the mood for mama’s matchmaking.”

A luncheon was set to follow the wedding for official guests of the royal family and other family members and friends who would not be able to make it to the evening reception. They would be populated with their mother’s set and their single daughters.

He gave his brother a side glare. “So am I. It’s your turn to accompany her.”

Luca had planned on not attending the luncheon himself. Holing up in the yacht and drowning his sorrows in alcohol was the better alternative to hours of small talk. He already had an excuse. Chiara was still sick, so he still had to oversee preparations for the hotel relaunch. Now Raphael was ruining his plans.

“I accompanied her last time to the Milan ball, remember?”

Luca groaned silently. He was right. They loved their mother, but her not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking was mortifying even for grown men such as them. She trotted them out to her friends who were accompanied by single daughters and then after an introduction, left them to fend for themselves.

Luca was in no mood to be social tonight. He just wanted to be left alone.

Had she already left the yacht?

“How about Adriano? Why doesn’t he take a turn with mama?” Luca said out of the corner of his mouth. He knew he sounded like a whiny kid, but he couldn’t stop himself.

The expression on the groom’s face as he waited for his bride to reach his side–a mix of awe, tenderness, and love–was too much that Luca had to look away.

“Adriano will be busy playing the violin during the luncheon.”

“He won’t be playing the whole time¸” he protested, but he knew it was weak. Adriano had a tendency to be…distracted when he was playing. He certainly couldn’t be counted on to escort their mother around when he’d be up onstage. And God forbid any of the guests started throwing their underwear at him like at the wedding anniversary party of an aunt in Rome. He could still remember the look of comical disgust on his cousin Prince Stefan’s face when someone’s knickers landed on his lap. Chiara had giggled when Stefan gave the offending garment an efficient flick of his fingers and it landed on the dance floor. Adriano paused in his playing, went down the stage, scooped it up, winked at Stefan, and pocketed the underwear. Their mother looked on the verge of hyperventilating.